The Devil's Silver (The Road Devils MC Book 2)

by Marysol James

  “No fuckin’ shock,” Wolf said brusquely. “Silver, you’re up, man. She’s all yours.”

  “No problem, Prez,” Silver said quietly, loving the words that Wolf had chosen to use: he liked thinking of Jolene as his. “How much stuff do you have, Jolene? Do we need some packing boxes from Satan’s back room?”

  With a silly thrill, it occurred to Jo that she actually couldn’t fit her whole life into one crappy little suitcase anymore. In a weird way, this felt like progress somehow, and in this moment of shattering uncertainty and unanswered questions, she’d take it as a minor win. Stupid little nothing thing and it didn’t change a thing about Brian, but hell. It was a reason to smile.

  “Yes,” she said. “Maybe six?”

  “I’ll get ‘em,” Scars said. “We have a bunch of boxes from a big alcohol delivery before the New Year that we haven’t recycled yet. I’ll grab a few.”

  “Thanks,” Jo said. “Thank you, all of you. Would you pass that on to Ice too? He left before I got the chance.”

  “You know it, sweetheart,” Scars said as he walked out the door. “I’ll meet you guys behind Satan’s. You need the bar delivery van, Silver? Or you’ll take the cage from The Garage?”

  “Kansas has it for some pick-ups,” Silver told him. “So I’ll borrow Satan’s.”

  “No problem. Meet you in five minutes?”

  “You know it.”

  Jo was just opening her mouth to excuse herself to get a fresh coffee from Rebel at the bar, when the door opened again. Ice was standing there holding his cell and looking grim. Scars was right behind him, wearing a matching expression.

  “That was fast, man,” Wolf said, startled. “Even for you.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that.” Ice shut the door behind him and Scars, leaned against it, crossed his massive arms so his biceps bulged. “It’s not great.”

  “I guessed.” Wolf sighed and beckoned with his hands. “Give it to us.”

  “It took one call,” Ice said.

  Wolf, Scars and Silver all started at his words.

  “Shit,” Wolf muttered. “That bad?”

  “Yep.”

  Jo looked from face to face, wondering just what the hell they were talking about. What was the significance of a single phone call? She stayed quiet, though, waited for enlightenment to be delivered by the glacial god who’d descended to deliver bad news.

  “I’ve got a great contact in Minnesota and he’s seriously wired in,” Ice said. “You guys remember Davis?”

  “Your Rangers buddy from back in the day,” Scars said. “Sure.”

  “He’s in private security and private investigation work now, so he works pretty closely with the cops. Lawyers, too. Turns out, he knows Bradford and Sons very well.” Ice looked directly at Jo, and she almost shrank under that cold blue stare. “In fact, he knows your ex. And he knows some dirt.”

  “He does?” she stammered. “What does he know?”

  “That Brian Fielding is bad fucking news.”

  She blinked. “You mean – as a lawyer?”

  “As a lawyer, and as an accessory, and as an accomplice.”

  “He – what?” she squeaked. “Accessory to what? Accomplice with who?”

  “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  “It’s suspected that your ex conspires on legal cases with an ex-law-school friend named James Worth.”

  “James Worth,” Jo repeated, the name ringing bells loud and clear in her head but not sure why. “I know that name. James Worth…”

  “Let me save you some time,” Ice cut her off. “He works at Delaney and Wiecki.”

  “He –” Jo stopped. In her mind’s eye, she walked down the hall at D&W and saw the name plate reading ‘J. Worth’ on the office… two doors down from Millie’s. “Wait. You mean –”

  “James and your ex work for competing law firms,” Ice said. “But the word on the street is that the old law school buckaroos freely exchange information back and forth on corporate cases when their firms are on opposing sides of the courtroom. Sometimes they throw the case one way, for lack of a better term.”

  “You’re saying that they conspire for one lawyer to have a stronger case than the other?” Silver asked. “They stack the deck?”

  “Damn right,” Ice said. “They decide what will be presented in court and what won’t. They make sure that certain pieces of evidence land in the hands of the lawyers who are prosecuting the cases, and others don’t. They come up with arguments to help each other’s firms. They discuss strategy against their own firms, if need be. They arrange for the outcome they want.”

  “They pervert the course of justice,” Scars said, so utterly appalled that he lost his more sophisticated and intelligent vocabulary. “They fuck over the legal system.”

  “According to Davis, they’re being investigated, but they don’t know it yet,” Ice continued. “It’s all very hush-hush for now, since the case against them is still being built. Davis is helping out a bit, so he knows for sure that they’ve been up to shit.”

  “So…” Jo was putting the pieces together. “So James Worth maybe got my case file from Millie?”

  “And he told your ex where you are,” Ice finished. “That’s what I think. I can’t prove it yet, but I will.”

  “How?”

  “Davis is heading over to D&W now. He knows them well. He’s going to ask a few people that he trusts if James Worth got your file from Millicent. Once I know for sure that he did, Davis might be requested to… talk to Worth. If he’s given the green light by us.”

  He looked at Wolf, who nodded. Every man in the room knew then and there that if it came to that, Davis was going to be paid for his specialty services – whatever they may end up being, depending on Worth’s level of cooperation – out of The Road Devils treasury. Or, actually, not the treasury because that would be one hell of an invoice for Jo to have come across her desk and prepare payment for.

  This was going to be strictly a cash-in-hand job, and the money was going to be privately and quietly collected from every Road Devils member.

  Just like the good bad old days. But for something like this, everyone would be more than happy to stick one foot into the past for a few minutes.

  “Talk to him?” Jo asked faintly. “Like – interview him?”

  Ice paused. “An interview of sorts. More of an interrogation.”

  “OK, that’s enough,” Silver broke in. No need for Jolene to know more than she did; in fact, he didn’t see why she needed to know anything more than how Brian might have found her. Anything beyond that was MC business and the less she knew, the fucking better. “How long until you hear back from Davis?”

  “Two hours. Three tops.”

  “Great.” Silver went to Jolene, pulled her to her feet. She wasn’t looking good at all and he wanted to get her the hell out of there. “Call me later?”

  Ice nodded.

  “Just a second,” Jo said. “Why?”

  “Why what, sweet thing?” Silver said gently, hoping against hope that she wasn’t going to ask why Davis was going to beat the information out of James Worth, if Wolf deemed that it was necessary.

  “Why did they do it? The conspiracy and all that? I mean, I get that Brian got me, but that’s just a side-bargain. So did they make money out of it somehow? But it’s not like lawyers are paid directly, firms are paid. So what did they get out of it, all that cheating the legal system?”

  “Actually,” Scars said, surprised that it hadn’t occurred to him. “That’s a damn good question.”

  “Always following the paper trail and money, ain’t you, girl?” Wolf said in a teasing drawl. “Can’t switch off that accountant’s brain for even one minute.”

  “Nope,” she said, grinning back. “I don’t see why they’
d risk all of that for no payday – and I don’t see a way to get paid. Unless…”

  “Unless what?” Silver asked, liking that intense, focused looking her face as she worked the problem through at roughly the speed of light. “You come up the answer already?”

  “I’ve come up with one answer.”

  “Hit us with it,” Ice said and she was taken aback to see that he looked amused and intrigued, two emotions that she’d never have associated with the man. “Davis gave me the most likely working theory, so let’s see if you got there. Or close.”

  “Ice, you said that they conspire on corporate cases, right?” Jo said. “Just corporate?”

  Ice stared at her for three seconds, then he broke into a massive grin. Jo was astonished at what a difference it made to his face: he looked ten years younger and so freaking handsome. She’d noticed his good looks before, of course, but they’d been off-putting and cold, hidden under a layer of ice. But that grin cracked the glacial surface wide open and she saw the man peeking out from underneath.

  “Right,” he said. “And yes. So?”

  “So.” She cocked her head. “So the clients are in on it. Some of them, anyway. I imagine that Brain and his buddy figure out who has the biggest bank balance, or the strongest motivation to win, and they cut a deal. I figure they ‘arrange’ the win and then they take a kickback from the grateful company.”

  “That’s it,” Ice said. “More or less. Davis thinks that pay-outs are the key, but they’re damn hard to prove. They need a paper trail to really build a case and that’s hard to do quietly. If either one of these yahoos suspects that they’re being investigated, they’ll be on a plane within two hours.”

  “Yes. It is hard to do it without tipping off the subjects. They’d need the accountants to cooperate.”

  “It’s a challenge,” Ice said, still clearly amused at her lightning-fast deductive skills. “It’s going to take more time.”

  “It might never happen,” Scars said. “Right? I mean, how easy is it to bury and hide money that big?”

  “Easier than you’d think,” Jo told him. “If you know what you’re doing.”

  “Could you do it?”

  She flashed them a cheeky grin, and Silver almost sighed at her dark angel beauty.

  “Could I? Hell yeah, querido. No problem.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Wolf said in a deadpan voice, and even Scars wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “Now… outta here, baby. Settle into Silver’s place, unpack your stuff, get yourself together, get some rest. See you back here tomorrow, if you feel ready.”

  “Yes, boss,” she said smartly, resisting the mad urge to snap him a quick salute. “And thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome again,” he said. “Now move that sweet ass. I ain’t tellin’ you again. You do remember my biggest pet peeve?”

  She did remember; this time, Jo did as he said.

  **

  Almost three hours later, Jo happily looked around her new bright, spacious bedroom. She’d unpacked and fussed and arranged, and now everything was precisely where she wanted it to be. Silver had helped unpack, between setting up the new security codes and cleaning up a few bits and pieces, and then he’d offered to go out and buy her some groceries.

  She’d stared up at him, her hands full of t-shirts that she was folding and putting in her dresser, stunned at how thoughtful and kind he was being. More and more, the New and Improved Silver was morphing into the Old and Amazing Zeke – and she was liking this transition more and more with every passing moment.

  “You’d really do that?” she’d asked. “You don’t mind?”

  “I don’t mind, angel,” he’d said. “Make me a list and I’ll go for you. The last thing you want to think about is hauling ass to the store after you unpack. All’s you’re going to want to do is plunk down in front of the TV and kick back with some junk food.”

  She’d laughed. “That is the truth.”

  Before he’d left, Silver had shown her how to arm the security system from inside. Jo knew nothing at all about these types of devices and systems, but even she could tell that what she had between her and the world – and Brian – was pretty damn top-of-the-line. She’d watched Silver drive off and she’d taken a deep breath, held it, then released every last bit of her tension and worry. It had occurred to her that that was the first full intake of air since she’d seen Brian enter her office.

  She felt safe here in this house. It felt good.

  What hadn’t felt good (at least not at first) had been telling Silver where she’d been staying so they could go pick up her things. It had killed her to answer his question of “Where am I driving to?” with “The trailer park.” He’d paused then, given her a quick glance from the side, before putting the van into gear and simply saying, “OK, baby. Cole lives out there too, so I know where it is.”

  “He does? I’ve never seen him around the park.”

  “Well, he keeps to himself when he’s at home.”

  She’d nodded, all the while fighting with herself to not explain a damn thing, then lost the struggle after about three minutes:

  “I couldn’t afford anything else when I first moved here. I mean, I didn’t have the job yet, and didn’t know if I’d even get it, so… well. I just wanted a roof over my head and the motels that I looked at were the worst. The trailer is small and old, but it’s pretty clean and the park has 24/7 security, so…” Her voice trailed off as she realized that she was protesting way too much, and she finished her defense with a lame: “So that’s why.”

  “Not even one ounce of judgement from me, Jolene,” he’d responded. “I was raised in a trailer. It was all that Dad could afford after Mom died and he was stuck with tens of thousands in medical bills. You do what you gotta do in this life to get by. Dad did and you did, and if you think that I think less of either one of you for it, you’re dead wrong. I think more of both of you.” He’d shrugged and turned onto the highway leading to the park. “Reality can be hard to face sometimes, and it takes fucking guts to look it in the eye and carry on.”

  “I’m sorry about your mother,” she’d said quietly. “How old were you?”

  “Six. Don’t get me wrong and think that I’m complaining, because Dad was awesome. He worked two jobs and kept us together and fed and warm. He paid off a bit of the medical bills every month and still managed to set aside something for pizza and birthday presents and Christmas. The trade-off was that we didn’t have an apartment and I had one pair of shoes. You get me? Falling down isn’t the end of the goddamn world, Jolene. Staying down is.”

  “When I first came to Denver, I had one suitcase with me. It was all I packed before I ran.” It felt like a confession or at least an explanation; she knew that he didn’t need or even want one, but Jo wanted to put down this stupid piece of baggage once and for all. “Brian didn’t let me wear anything nice, so I showed up here with nothing but oversized, awful clothes and flat shoes with holes.” She grinned. “I had a couple of nice things, though: a bit of makeup that I’d bought before going to The Roaring Red – and a red dress and high-heeled, knee-high boots.”

  “I remember those boots,” Silver said, his voice pitched low and husky. “I remember you in that dress. I remember everything. Believe me.”

  She’d blushed as red as the dress itself, and looked out at the trailers.

  “This one,” she’d pointed out. “With the green trim.”

  He’d pulled up to it and looked at it.

  “It’s cute. It’s really not bad at all.”

  “You think?” she’d said. “I mean – I guess it’s not horrible.”

  “Not even close.” Silver had gotten out of the van and frowned at her when she’d gone to open her door. “Stay there, Jolene.”

  “Erm, why?”

  “Because I’m going to open your door for you.
”

  “Oh.” She’d been so taken aback, she’d just sat there still holding the door handle, and watched him walk around the van and open her door with a flourish. He’d bowed. “M’lady.”

  “M’gentleman,” she’d rejoined and regally taken his outstretched hand. “So polite.”

  “Well, I have lots of time to make up for,” he’d said as they’d walked up to her soon-to-be-former home. “I need to be nice to you, because God knows I’ve been far from polite or nice for far too long.”

  And now here she stood in a large, bright, safe house that was about twenty times the size of the trailer, and it was all thanks to Silver. She’d say that if he was aiming at being nice and polite, then he was hitting a bullseye, boy.

  Just then, she heard the doorbell. Startled, surprised, suddenly afraid, all of her bravado and sense of security evaporated like a morning mist. She had the crazed urge to dive and hide under the damn bed, because Brian was out there and what if he’d followed them from Satan’s?

  Instead of hiding, instead of falling victim yet again to his goddamn manipulation and her own fears, she headed for the laundry room to look at the monitors, to see who was standing at her door. The biggest part of her knew damn good and well that Brian would never simply show up in broad daylight and knock at the door – if he came for her, he’d do it like the coward that he was. In darkness and without warning and when she wasn’t looking.

  But a tiny, niggling part of her still had to check. To be sure before she opened the door.

  Jo switched the monitor to ‘FRONT DOOR CAM’ and smiled. Of course it was Silver standing there with his arms full of groceries; the man had all the codes and could have walked in the door unannounced and at any time… but he was respecting her space and privacy. He was treating it like her home and he was saying that she decided who she let in, and when.

  No way he was ever just going to walk in on her, just because he could.

  She went to the door and opened it with a flourish. “M’gentleman.”