Redeeming Justice: A Legal Thriller (Bill Harvey Book 2)
Page 12
Lewis stares at Bill intently. “I was taking care of business.”
“Such as?”
“Does it matter?”
“It may tomorrow when you’re on the stand in court under oath.”
“I don’t care about your oath. Those words mean nothing to me. Nothing. I’ll be on that stand, and I’ll lie through my teeth. I’ve done that before, and I’ll do it again. Your lawyer talk doesn’t mean anything to me. I’ll say whatever is in my best interest. And right now, my best interest is to say I was with Carlos that day.”
“I hope you stick to the same story. The prosecution will pounce on you if your story changes at any point during the testimony. If they even get a sniff that something is wrong or misplaced, then they’ll attack you. If you give them the chance, then it’ll be very dangerous for you and Carlos in the courtroom. I’ll give you one word of advice for free, Lewis – make sure your apartment is clean tomorrow because if you slip up in the slightest, they’ll raid your apartment. If you give them the slightest opportunity, they’ll exploit it. They want you behind bars.”
Miles squints as he stares at Bill. “I hope you aren’t thinking of doing anything stupid.”
“I’m not a stupid man. My life has been spent dealing with criminals. I know what you can do.”
A cold silence drifts over the room.
“I have a lot of friends. A lot of powerful friends. They wouldn’t like it if anything happened to me. They wouldn’t like it if I went behind bars.” Lewis leans forward again.
The pressure is building.
And Bill doesn’t want to be there when it detonates.
Miles leans his body slightly forward as well, defending his friend. “I think you’re about to find out how friendly we can be.”
It’s time to leave.
Cautiously, Bill stands and slowly walks to the exit. No sudden movements, but no hesitation.
“Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day, gentlemen. Be prepared.”
Chapter 21
The walk from Bill’s car to the bar is a short one.
And that’s just the way Bill likes it.
He felt the pull for a glass of whiskey strongly after his chat with Lewis and Miles. Despite his flair, Lewis has an air of psychotic danger surrounding him. He has reportedly ordered the hit on as many as twenty people around his neighborhood, and he doesn’t regret it for one moment. He is as ruthless as he is stylish.
That makes Bill uneasy.
The more a criminal evades the police, the more invincible they become.
The more crime they commit and don’t get charged for, the closer they come to losing control.
He’s afraid that Lewis has already walked to the edge and lost control. The power has gone to his head, and he feels invincible. He feels he can get away with anything. He might be the king in his world, but he’s stepping out into a different ballgame. He holds no power in court, and if he isn’t careful, the prosecution is going to tear him apart.
One wrong word from Lewis can destroy any chance Bill has of getting Carlos off the charges.
Despite his past, Carlos López is a good man. Bill knows that. He wants to help him. He wants Carlos back on the street so he can help drug addicts recover.
And he’s willing to sacrifice Lewis’ freedom to make sure that happens.
The chill of the cool night air hits Bill as he steps out of the car.
After Bill steps onto the sidewalk, he tosses a couple of dollars into the hat of a homeless man sitting nearby because he always feels that if things fell apart, that could easily be him. A few dollars don’t mean much to Bill, but it means the world to the homeless man.
When you live life so close to the edge, you have to be prepared to fall over it.
Bill turns his collar to the cold and damp, turning to lock his car door.
The moment that he turns, he feels a large hand rest on his shoulder. Instinctively, he swings around.
He only has time to see a fist coming towards his face.
Smash.
The fist connects heavily with Bill’s cheekbone, throwing him back against his car.
His arms fly out sideways, trying to keep him upright, but he quickly lands on his behind, dazed by the surprise impact.
That wasn’t a lucky punch.
This person knows exactly what they’re doing.
As Bill’s head lifts off the pavement, two men grab him under the shoulders and drag his body into the closest alley.
The fog clears.
The adrenalin kicks in.
Bill attempts to spring to his feet.
He wrestles free with his strength.
Smash.
His world is dark.
Another fist connects with the back of his head. He didn’t see that one.
Smash.
Another fist.
He sprawls onto the pavement.
Crunch.
A boot.
The force connects with his ribs, and he curls over in pain. When another boot comes towards him, his arm instinctively grabs it.
Gripping the ankle tightly, he throws the man to the ground, leaping to his feet at the same time.
Having spent most of his childhood at a boxing gym, he knows how to throw a decent punch. When the second thug gets close to him, he swings, and he swings hard.
They say in boxing that if you hit a man clean on the chin, he won’t feel it until tomorrow.
As Bill’s heavy fist connects with the jaw of one of the thugs, he feels the satisfaction of a jaw breaking under his force.
But that satisfaction doesn’t last long.
Another fist hits him in the ribs.
And another fist hits him in the back of the head.
Two more quick fists into his body and Bill has landed heavily on the pavement.
A quick succession of boots.
He doesn’t stand a chance.
He tries to catch a glimpse of the attackers, but he’s blinded by the barrage.
The taste of blood begins to fill his mouth.
His vision begins to blur.
Another hit.
Another one.
His head is spinning.
His arms flail in a feeble attempt at defense. A heavy kick to his ribs robs his lungs of any existing breath.
His resistance doesn’t last long.
Boot after boot lands on his body.
His efforts turn to protecting himself.
When his resistance is finished, the boots stop flying.
Instinctively, Bill grasps his wallet and holds it against his chest.
“Don’t go digging in the wrong business,” the voice snarls at him, inches from his ear. “You’ll find that people don’t like you sniffing around in the wrong places. We’ll be back if you don’t stop digging. And it won’t just be you we’ll go hunting.”
Of course.
These men didn’t want his wallet.
Chapter 22
The quiet darkness of the parking lot causes Kate Spencer to shudder.
She doesn’t trust the night. She never has.
When she was a small six-year-old girl, she watched as her mother and father were mugged and beaten under the darkness of a still night. She was overcome with fear as her father tried to fight back, struggling desperately to protect his family, but there were too many of them. She watched in terror as her father was kicked on the ground over and over again.
After months in hospital, he was able to walk again, but his gait was never the same.
Nor was his personality.
Tonight, she can feel those same chills in the air. The small hairs on her arm stand on end.
She can sense the danger.
She knows it’s there.
Despite her boss’ desperate plea for her not to work late, she ignored his request. She loves her work – wanting to complete it before she went home to her empty house. Her son is with his deadbeat father for the next two days, and she can’t bear the thought of si
tting home alone. Isolated in her family home.
Empty nesters claim they’re the only ones that know the grief of losing their children to adulthood, but for divorcees, that pain is just as real. Their family, their hopes and dreams, the people they have invested so much in, are suddenly gone, spending time somewhere else; laughing, crying, and growing.
It took Kate a long time to deal with that pain.
Every time her eight-year-old son left to go to her deadbeat ex-husband’s apartment, she cried a pool of tears. Her son was growing without her. Without her love. He was experiencing a life that she had no part of.
She didn’t miss her ex-husband for one minute, not for one second, but she missed her son every waking minute that he wasn’t there. There was an emptiness in her heart; an ache that she couldn’t cure. Over time, she has learned to ignore that pain, distracting herself with work.
Despite the years that have passed since her divorce, going home to an empty house is still filled with dread for the single mother.
Now, she regrets the decision to work late. She should have listened to her boss.
The nerves are already pumping through her veins; she can feel her own heartbeat against the walls of her chest. She can see every movement in her peripheral vision, seeing even the slightest break in the shadows.
Gripping her purse tightly in one hand, her keys in the other, she steps towards her car, parked on the other side of the lot, a mere fifty yards away.
Her knuckles turn white with the force of her grip.
She steps into the dark.
There is movement in the shadows.
She knows it.
She can see it.
But now, the distance between her car and the office door is the same. Twenty-five yards each way.
Each door is locked.
Neither is an easy access.
She’s stuck.
Vulnerable.
Helpless.
In a panic, she begins to run towards her car.
Heart rate pounding.
Muscles clenched.
Vision on her destination.
But then…
Whack.
She’s hit from behind.
Sprawling, she falls to the asphalt.
Clutching her purse, she turns to see her attacker.
The shadow is wearing a balaclava.
Their face is covered.
And then…
Whack.
A fist hits her in the face.
And then another.
Right above the eye.
She loosens her grip on the bag. They can take it.
It’s not worth her life.
But they don’t touch her bag.
They don’t want it.
“Take it,” Kate pleads. “Take it.”
They ignore her pleads.
And then…
Whack.
Another fist.
Kate begins sobbing, her tears mixed with blood, and the attacker stops.
They raise their fist, but this time, the hooded person turns and walks away.
They didn’t take her bag.
That wasn’t their target.
Chapter 23
“Bill?” There is a desperate plea in Kate’s voice.
“Kate. Kate! What’s wrong?”
“Someone… someone… they attacked me.”
“What? Who? Are you ok? Are you hurt?”
“I’m… ok.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m in the car, outside the police station on sixth. I don’t want to step out, Bill. How do I know it’s safe out there? I don’t trust the night.” Her tears start flowing again.
After her attacker left her bloodied on the pavement, Kate focused on getting into her car, locking the doors, starting the engine, and racing to the nearest police station. It was only once she arrived that she let her guard down. It was only once she felt safe that she let the tears come.
“Kate, wait there. Keep the doors locked, and the engine running. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t get out of the car.”
With a swollen face, and still spitting blood, Bill frantically races to the station.
When he arrives, he sees her car, engine running, lights on, exhaust fumes slowly escaping into the chill of the night air.
Carefully, he approaches her driver’s side window.
She’s gripping the steering wheel tightly, staring straight ahead.
The look of dried blood on the face sends anger pulsing through his body.
He let her down. He should have protected her, but he let her down.
Gently, he taps on the driver’s side window.
Kate turns her head, taking a few seconds to process who is standing by her car. When she finally realizes it’s Bill, she leaps out, embracing him in a tight hug.
He holds tight, tighter than he has ever held her before.
This is the woman he cares for more than anything, and he let her safety be threatened. He can’t forgive himself for that. After the lactic acid starts to build in his muscles during his tight grip, he slowly releases her.
“Are you sure you’re ok? Should we get you to the hospital?”
“I’m not hurt.” She wipes the wetness from her eyes, sniffing back more tears.
“What happened?”
“In the parking lot, after work, someone jumped me between the office and the car.”
“At my office?” Another wave of guilt washes over Bill. That’s his office. The place he should ensure is safe. “What were you doing there so late?”
“I was looking for the delivery date of the new armchair, like you asked. I got it, Bill. The armchair was delivered the morning Judge Hardgrave was shot.”
He put the woman he cares for in danger. “That doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’re ok. What matters is that you’re fine.”
“They didn’t want my purse, Bill. I told them to take it, but they didn’t want it. Why didn’t they take my purse?”
Anger continues to cover Bill’s thoughts.
This wasn’t a random attack. This wasn’t a coincidence.
This was a targeted assault.
For both him and Kate.
“Did you get a look at them?”
“No, not really. It all happened so fast, and they were wearing a balaclava. They didn’t want to be seen.”
“Anything? Did you see anything about them? Anything at all.”
“The only thing I saw was that they were wearing a blue and green love heart necklace. It was tight around their neck, but the shine of the love heart caught my eye. That’s all I saw.”
Bill hugs Kate tightly again.
He has seen the necklace before.
He knows who it belongs to.
As they melt into their hug, Bill can start to feel it.
He doesn’t want to, but he can feel the emotion building inside him.
His father was the same. He didn’t want emotions in his life. He only wanted to do his job, provide for his family, and watch the football on Sunday with a beer in hand. He didn’t want to be drawn into the weakness of emotions. He didn’t want to be suckered into feeling something.
That was the only way Bill learned to deal with emotions. It was all he knew as he grew up. His only male role model avoided showing his feelings at all costs.
“Caring for something will make you weak, boy,” his father told him over and over. When Bill was only six years old, he still hugged his pink teddy every night. He loved that teddy, a present from his late grandmother. His father tore it away from him on the night of his sixth birthday and told him that it was time to grow up. The thing he loved the most was torn away by the person he respected the most.
A brick wall has been around Bill’s heart ever since.
For him, caring is a flaw.
But now, as he grips this woman tight, he can’t resist it. That brick wall can’t hold back the flood of emotion any longer.
He should have pro
tected Kate.
He should have been there for her.
And it hurts him more than anything that he put her in danger.
“What happened to you?” Kate asks as she looks up at Bill’s face.
“I just walked into the wrong area at the wrong time,” he lies. “Come on, Kate. Let’s get to the station and make a report.”
She rests against his chest as they walk to the station doors, but Bill’s thoughts are somewhere else.
He’s thinking about the owner of the necklace.
Chapter 24
“What happened to you?” Detective Matthew Pitt looks at his old friend in surprise.
Bill Harvey is standing on his doorstep, dried blood on his lip, a cut above his swollen eye. He’s holding his side tightly with his left hand, leaning on his favored other side. His broken ribs hurt, but there is nothing that the hospital can do about it.
And he hasn’t got that time to waste.
Bill’s response is firm. “I just had a quiet chat with the wrong people.”
“Come in, man.” Pitt opens the door.
Bill limps in, short of breath.
“Bev, get the first aid kit,” Pitt calls out to his wife.
Pitt’s wife rushes down the stairs of her house with the first aid kit in hand. “Oh, Bill.” She sighs. “You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”
“It finds me, Bev.” Bill smiles with a split front lip. “I don’t go looking for it; it just comes and tracks me down.”
She smiles, takes Bill into the kitchen, and spends the next ten minutes cleaning up Bill’s cuts, making small talk along the way.
“But clearly.” She sighs as she finishes cleaning his cuts. “You didn’t come here for my nursing skills. I know that I have a delicate touch, but a handsome man like you can get that anywhere. I’ll let you two boys chat. But Bill, promise me one thing?”
“What’s that, Bev?”
“Stay out of trouble, or next time, it’ll be me giving you a cut lip.” She places her hand on his face in a caring manner before leaving the room.