The Only Witness: The Center City Series: Book One

by Shannon Flagg

  More hours passed before he finally heard the door to the holding cell room open. “Thanks Chief, I'll take it from here. You know, attorney-client privilege and all that fun stuff.”

  “The attorney on record is....”

  “Mr. Evers is no longer counsel for Deacon Hawke, he's resigned from the case. Now, while I chat with my client, why don't you go and find my other client and put her in a proper cell, if you're intent on pursuing trumped up charges.”

  Deacon was on his feet as a blonde woman stepped through the door. She looked familiar, he couldn't place her, and he didn't really put much effort into it. He was much more focused on who she was and why she was there. He waited until Will closed the door. “My attorney?”

  “Lina Henry. It's nice to see you again, Deacon. It's been a long time.”

  “I know you?” Deacon put some effort into remembering her face. It was familiar, like he'd thought, but placing it just wasn't happening, even with a name to spark his memory. It occurred to him that Lina Henry might not even be her real name.

  “We're distant cousins,” she replied. “I was hired by a very interested third party who wishes to remain unknown, for now. Let's not waste any time here, we need to move quickly to counter the accusations against you.”

  “Not until you get Vera out.”

  “So, she is your mate? Don't look at me like that, a Hawke mates with a human and word spreads through all the circles. I'm sure she's great but we need to...”

  “Get her out and then get me out. It's pretty simple. Until then, I've got nothing to say to you.” Deacon sat back down, got comfortable. The lawyer might have thought he was bluffing but he wasn't.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Do I look like I'm kidding?”

  “Do you understand how serious this situation is? Vera will end up not even being charged with anything. So there's no need to be valiant right now. You need me more than she does.”

  “Then you'd better get her out of trouble fast,” Deacon crossed his arms over his chest, leaned his head back against the wall.

  “Yeah, she's your mate.” The lawyer let out a sigh. “Fine, I'll sort her out, but you're going to need to start being practical. There are a lot of big decisions ahead of you. You're going to need to start making wiser choices. By the time that I get done with her, they'll be in the process of transferring you to court. I'll meet you there.”

  “Bring Vera with you.”

  “If she wants to be there, she will be. This might have changed things for her Deacon, you're going to need to consider that.”

  “Nothing changed for her. Nothing has changed for me.”

  “Actually, everything has changed for you.” She regarded him with what appeared to be a sad expression. What the fuck did she know that he didn't? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but she turned and headed out the door.

  And where did he know her from? Where had he possibly seen her before? She was really pretty, nice blue eyes and long blonde hair. Lina also had a trace of an accent and carried herself with a lot of confidence. She wasn't a forgettable person, so why was he drawing such a blank? Deacon wasn't sure how long he sat there, allowing his mind to just wander whatever way it wanted. Out of nowhere he remembered where he knew Lina from and it made him sit up straight.

  He'd met her at Finn's memorial. She'd been there to represent The Strays. Why was a Stray here to help him? Who had sent her? She'd mentioned big decisions coming up, he'd assumed that she meant because of Graham, but what if it was something else? The outer door opened once more. “On your feet, Hawke. It's time to head to the courthouse.”

  He recognized the officer that stepped through but didn't know him well. Deacon didn't resist. He followed whatever orders he was given. There was a crowd outside when he was brought through the front door and out onto the street.

  The reporter from the local paper, The Center City News, shouted for a comment, and the photographer next to him snapped picture after picture. Deacon wished the officer would move faster, but he was apparently enjoying the limelight.

  It was only once he was in the car, ready to be driven to his date with destiny, that Deacon realized there were faces missing from the crowd. Faces that should have been there, and yet his club was no where to be seen.

  A cold, dark feeling took root in Deacon's stomach. He tried to swallow it down, ignore it or just bury it, but instead of shrinking it grew. Something bad was going to happen, he just knew it. He just didn't know what. All he could hope is that he and those he loved would come out the other side whole.

  There were people outside of the courthouse, too; this time the officer didn't linger. He led him right inside, probably because Chief Will was standing just inside the glass doors, glaring out.

  Vera was nowhere to be seen. Neither was his new lawyer. He wouldn't say that he was panicking, he didn't panic as a rule, but he was more than a little uncomfortable, especially since there was no trace of Vera's calm left to course through his veins. Anxiety had taken the place; for a moment it felt like he couldn't breathe. Fuck. Was that how she felt?

  “Move it, Hawke.” Will stepped forward to lead him the rest of the way; he held a firm grip on Deacon's arm. The other hand hovered over his holster as if looking for a reason to use it. “That's a pretty slick lawyer you got. Tell me, how did you hear of her?”

  “None of your business, Chief Will.” Deacon was pretty sure that poking the man wasn't the best of ideas but it was still satisfying, and if it set Will off, so be it. He'd have a lot of explaining to do if that was the case; the building was full of witnesses.

  “You're not going to be so smug soon. This is the beginning of the end of the road for you, and I, for one, can not wait.” Will nodded at the bailiff in front of the heavy wood door that led to the largest of Center City's two courtrooms. The doors opened and he saw there were people already seated inside.

  Deacon didn't waste a word on Will. Nothing that he said was going to make a bit of difference, so fuck it and fuck him. He stood up straight, walked into the courtroom with his head held high. He would not appear weak or broken.

  Whispers erupted at the sight of him; people began to elbow one another. The whispering grew louder. He caught random words, his name, Vera's name. Something about the warehouse. Deacon's steps slowed, he looked around. Still no sign of Vera or the lawyer. It was looking like he might end up having to speak for himself.

  The judge banged the gavel, drew the attention of the room. “I'll have quiet or I'll clear this room.”

  Deacon wanted to groan at the sight of Judge Harold Underwood; he'd stood before the man before. Just great. If he had to speak for himself, he was fucked.

  “Pardon my lateness, Your Honor,” Lina spoke from behind Deacon, “I'm afraid I got a little turned around on the way here.”

  “You're not late yet,” the judge replied. “But if we could get on with this, that would be great.” He looked down at the file in front of him with a frown. Deacon let Lina move in front of him, followed her to the table. “Deacon Hawke, you're charged with first degree murder in the death of Graham Caldwell. How do you plead?”

  “My client pleads not guilty, Your Honor.” Lina replied. She shot Deacon a look that made it clear she was doing the talking.

  “The record will show it. I'll hear the people on the matter of bail.”

  “We want remand,” the DA rose to his feet. He was a balding man with delusions of grandeur. “Deacon Hawke is a flight risk.”

  “Deacon Hawke has strong ties to this community. He's a homeowner, a business owner with vested interest in this town. He is not a flight risk but will gladly surrender his passport and post bail as a sign of good faith.”

  “Bail is set at one million dollars, cash.” Judge Underwood banged the gavel again.

  Deacon was almost glad that he was restrained because the urge to jump at the DA was strong, really strong. Next to him Lina stood taller, flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “
That's no problem, Your Honor. Should I see the deputy to make arrangements?”

  What the fuck was she talking about, not a problem? A million dollars was a huge problem. He could sell everything he owned, several vital organs and all the sperm he'd ever produce and still not reach that total.

  Judge Underwood looked annoyed, as if he wished he'd set the amount higher. “That's right, Counselor. This case will carry over to trial unless the defendant is interested in making arrangements with the DA.”

  “Thank you but no thank you.” Lina's smile never wavered. “My client is eager to get his date in court and clear his good name.”

  Deacon remained silent, waited until the judge had filed out and the crowd started to disperse. “I don't have...”

  “I've got it covered.”

  “You mean The Strays have it covered,” Deacon corrected. “I don't know why you're here but I...”

  “You'll find out soon enough. Now, I'm going to make arrangements, see what I can do to hasten your release.”

  “Where is Vera?”

  “I left her with a woman named Susan and one of your men, Houdini I believe it was. She is safe and sound but quite emotional. There was no room for emotion here today.”

  As much as Deacon didn't like the fact Vera wasn't there, he was able to relax because if she was with Susan and Houdini, she was safe. “Get me out and take me to her.”

  “First, we should really talk about....”

  “No, take me to her and then we'll talk.” Deacon's jaw set in a firm line. He needed to see her, to touch her and know one hundred percent that she was okay. He needed it.

  “Remember you said that,” Lina replied with a small twitch of her lips.

  Chapter SEVENTEEN

  The sign on the front door of New to You was flipped to “closed.” Several times someone had come along and knocked, but both Houdini and the lawyer, Lina, had been very clear about keeping the door shut.

  Vera wasn't sure that she liked the lawyer, and not just because she'd refused to let her go to the courthouse and see Deacon. There was something about her, something too smooth and slick to be trusted.

  She'd walked into Will's office in her perfectly tailored suit and sky high heels without a hair out of place. Her smile had never faltered as she read Will the riot act over Vera's arrest, demanding her immediate release if he didn't intend on filing charges. When he'd agreed, said that Vera was free to go, Lina had insisted on an apology first.

  It had been strangely satisfying to watch the police chief stumble through that apology; he'd never sounded sorry, though. In fact, Vera was pretty sure that the apology had been too far to go. Will had been pissed before; now he was livid and it was even more personal.

  This was going to get messy and fast. Vera knew it deep down in her stomach, where a sick pit of dread had been brewing. At first the feeling had been Deacon's inside of her, but now Vera owned it as much as he did. She was ninety-eight percent sure that she was going to be sick because of it.

  Susan was pacing the length of the apartment as if it were an Olympic event or her life depended on it. She hadn't stopped moving since Houdini had gotten a cryptic call, grabbed his shit and left. He'd said to stay inside, to not open the door for anyone but him or Deacon.

  Vera couldn't take it as a good sign that he'd specifically cautioned against opening the door for any of the other Vikings.

  “I can't just sit here twiddling my thumbs.” Vera rose to her feet. “There has to be something that we can do.”

  “We wait, Vera. It's all we can do.” Susan was still pacing. “It sucks but we'll get through it. Besides I'm sure that Deacon will be released soon. And I know that he's going to come to you straight away.”

  “What do you think is going on with The Vikings? When Houdini left, it seemed like there was something bad happening.”

  “I don't know,” Susan replied, “but I agree, I don't think whatever is going on is good. I don't know anything about club business, so we'll just have to wait and see what they tell us.”

  “That's not enough,” Vera mumbled the words too low for Susan to hear because she knew how ridiculous they sounded. This was not the time for her to feel all fucking needy but all that would be enough was to have Deacon in front of her. Everything she was feeling from him was confusing, muddled together to help the pit in her stomach grow larger. If it kept growing it would consume her, him, everything.

  Anxiety twisted her lungs, made it impossible to breathe. She pressed her hands against her face, told herself to stop, but she couldn't. Everything was focused on not being able to breathe, on not giving in to the dark that was edging her vision.

  Vera was so focused on herself that she didn't hear the front door open and footsteps on the stairs. She didn't see Susan move protectively in front of her, but she felt it when Deacon stepped into the room. She still couldn't breathe but she got to her feet.

  “Jesus Christ,” Deacon was in front of her in a flash, his hands on her arms. “I'm here, Vera. Come on, calm down.”

  “It's an anxiety attack, Deke. I might have something in my bag if she doesn't start relaxing.”

  “She doesn't need a sedative. She'll be fine.”

  “She's standing right here,” Vera gasped out the words. It was easier to breathe with him touching her, with knowing that he was okay. “I'm okay. It's just a lot of shit to take in.” Her hands ran over his arms and chest. “You're okay?”

  “I'm fine. The lawyer got me released on bail. Where's Houdini?”

  “He's not here, he got a call. It was someone from the club.” Vera held onto his arms as he stiffened. “Deke?”

  “Get some stuff together, you're staying at the house with me.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “You got your car here?”

  “Yes,” Vera told him. “I drove back here from the station.”

  “Grab your stuff, Sweetheart. We've got to go. We need to head to the warehouse.”

  “And I've got to go,” Susan spoke up. “I just got a text, there's trouble at The Old Man's place.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “The text wasn't really clear on that. I'm going to keep my phone on. I'll call you, keep you advised.”

  “This is bad, isn't it?” Vera looked between the two of them. The silence that followed was enough of an answer. Without another word she stepped back from Deacon, grabbed two duffel bags out of the closet and began to pack them full of anything she could imagine needing.

  There were some things she didn't necessarily need but grabbed anyway, the small box of jewelry that her grandmother had left her, along with the fireproof box which contained all of her important papers.

  Susan left before she got the bags zipped, a grim expression on her face. Vera picked up the bags, turned to face Deacon. “I'm ready.”

  “Give me those,” he moved close to her and took the bags from her hand. “I know that you're scared, but we're going to be okay.”

  There was no way that he could know that, Vera knew it and so did he, but she didn't argue the point. Instead she let her arms slide around his neck, stretched up to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I know that we will be.”

  Deacon drove once they got down to the car; it was no real surprise to Vera. For some reason she couldn't imagine him riding bitch. She also couldn't stop imagining him in the back of the police truck. The idea terrified her because of something that Susan had mentioned, she'd said that Deacon's kind didn't do well in jail, repressing the change was possible but not pleasant and it couldn't be put off indefinitely. Eventually they changed or they died.

  She was not going to lose Deacon, not slowly and painfully like that. No, it was not an option. No matter what they had to do to keep him out of jail, Vera was one hundred percent behind that plan.

  It didn't take long to get to the warehouse, not at all. Something was off. This time of day there should have been at least three or four bikes outside, maybe even one or two scantily dressed women hanging outs
ide smoking, but there were no bikes to be seen.

  “Son of a bitch,” Deacon swore. “Stay in the car until I tell you otherwise.”

  “Not going to happen,” Vera shook her head. “I'm going with you. I'm not staying out here alone.”

  They got out of the car and walked to the door. Deacon opened it and stepped in first. Vera was struck by the silence. She'd never been inside before, but she'd expected noise, music of some sort and maybe the sound of a rousing game of pool.

  There was no one in the outer room. Vera had never been inside but she couldn't imagine it normally looked like this. Every piece of furniture was upended or destroyed. There was broken glass and the distinct scent of blood in the air. Even she could smell it.

  Deacon reached out and took her hand, he motioned for her to follow him and to be quiet. The closer that they got to the back of the warehouse, the more tense he became. Vera tried to keep her cool, but it was getting harder.

  “Stay here,” he hissed the words as they approached the back of the warehouse and a closed door. There was a rhythmic thumping coming from inside, it had gotten louder and louder as they got closer.

  Vera listened, not sure that she wanted to see what was on the other side of the door, but she couldn't help looking when Deacon stepped inside.

  Houdini was bound, hands cuffed to an overhead pipe. There was a gag in his mouth and the thumping sound was him trying like hell to get loose. He began to work harder as he saw them, the pipe seemed to be giving way as Deacon moved forward immediately to help him and then stopped.

  The sound that came from Deacon made Vera start to cry, he dropped to his knees and she moved forward, unsure of what she should do or say as he knelt before the body on the floor. She hadn't known Whiskey well but it was obvious to her that he had meant something to Deacon.

  “It was Master,” there was a thud as Houdini's feet hit the floor, he tossed the gag that had been in his mouth. The pipe was hanging down from the ceiling and Houdini just looked pissed. “The fuckhead called church. I thought that it was something about you, I got here and he put a vote on the table for a patch over.”