Counter To My Intelligence (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC Book 7)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “So…like one specific guard’s shift, correct?” I asked.

  His eyes widened slightly, but he nodded instead of lying.

  Police officers had a code.

  Protect your own.

  And it looked like the warden and his guards had a similar saying they did their job by.

  Needless to say, he answered me, even though I could tell it was bothering him to do so.

  “I have four guards on that cell block that work that shift. One of them is in charge of the cameras, and the other three rotate positions on the same cell block,” he answered. “I’ve already called Jody Daniels, the guard in charge on the women’s side, to bring them in. They should be arriving within the hour.”

  I was glad that the men’s side was the one that handled all the legal stuff.

  The courtroom was on the male side, while they shared an infirmary between the two.

  A fifteen-foot-high brick fence spanned the separation between the two sides, with security guards on both sides being able to monitor the walk between them.

  Neither one of them had access to the other prison’s tapes, though.

  Warden Walker was bigger than just a ‘warden.’

  He was also a retired special forces officer that was in charge of both units. He kept such a strong leash on both units that I was truly surprised that this entire thing went by unnoticed to him.

  “Speak of the devil,” Walker muttered, going to his door and opening it.

  I didn’t look up at the door, instead keeping my eyes on the video monitors on Walker’s wall.

  There was a woman there. Possibly around thirty-five or forty.

  She had blonde hair tucked up into a tight bun on the back of her head. Her eyes were hard, shoulders stiff.

  She looked pissed off, and she hadn’t even heard what we had to say yet, because then she’d really be pissed.

  “Thanks for coming, Jody,” Walker said, holding out his hand.

  She took it, but her eyes went to the three of us standing behind Walker.

  “What can I do for you? You know today’s a busy day for us. We have an inmate that wasn’t scheduled for release for another two months being released, and I wanted to look into why,” Jody said, crossing her arms in a defensive move.

  I smiled inwardly.

  Good luck with that. I covered my tracks well.

  Ruthann was getting out whether Miss Jody liked it or not.

  She was nervous.

  “It’s been reported by a prisoner that she’s been sexually assaulted. On the days she claimed it happened, I’ve looked back over the security feeds during those times, and they’re nonexistent. Something was placed in front of the camera, and the video is a blank piece of paper for exactly an hour,” Walker said.

  I watched Jody’s face during Walker’s explanation, and I knew immediately she had no part in the assaults.

  She was horrified.

  “That’s why you had me call the four guards in on B shift?” She asked, horror evident in her voice.

  Walker nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly why.”

  “Motherfucker,” she breathed. “Goddamn motherfucker.”

  Walker’s office phone chimed, and I watched him as he picked it up, frowned, then said, “Show the first one to the conference room. One at a time, please. Wait till the other leaves before you let the next one in,” Walker instructed before hanging up and crossing his arms.

  “If you all will follow me, I’ll take you to the conference room and then we can get started with the questioning.”

  Four hours later, I watched as the four guards on the shift responsible for making Sawyer’s life hell, were loaded into the back of separate police cruisers.

  They were being taken to the police station where they would then be questioned further.

  I’d planned on a different course of action when I’d arrived, but with so many witnesses, I realized that I’d never be able to get away with what I really wanted to do.

  “Take it easy, Silas. I hope next time we speak it’s under better circumstances,” Walker said as he shook my hand one final time.

  After he disappeared back inside, it left just the three of us standing there, waiting.

  Kettle, Torren, and I were waiting outside the huge brick wall for Ruthie to be released.

  “So what’d this girl do to get in there?” Kettle asked to pass the time.

  “She killed her husband,” I answered.

  There were a few moments of stunned silence while they digested that.

  “And why are you trying to get her out early? Just because she’s your girl’s friend?” Torren asked.

  There was no accusation in his tone, only curiosity.

  They knew there was more to it than that, so they patiently waited for me to explain.

  I took a bite of the sandwich I’d had Torren run up to the corner deli to get, chewed, and then explained.

  “According to one of the conversations I had with Sawyer, Ruthann was beaten, nearly to death, by her husband when the cops finally showed to intervene. He was arrested, but arraigned less than two hours later, only to come back for her. She was able to get away once again, but the cops weren’t able to do anything from there until his trial. Trial date comes and the husband is let off with an ankle monitor and a slap on the wrist telling him to stay away from his wife. Ruthie was in jail because her husband tried to beat her to death, and instead of taking it lying down, she shot him while he was taking a piss.”

  “Well fuck,” Torren said.

  I nodded. “Fuck indeed.”

  ***

  Sawyer’s eyes narrowed on me as I pulled up to the back of Berry’s house.

  She was pissed, that I could tell.

  Then again, having a woman on the back of my bike that wasn’t her had to look bad.

  “Take your helmet off before my woman goes postal on your ass,” I ordered Ruthie.

  Ruthie immediately complied, pulling the helmet that Sawyer usually used, off her head and shaking out her wild mane of red, curly hair.

  Instantly, Sawyer went from ragingly pissed off to stunned.

  Then she started to cry.

  Her hand rose up to her mouth, and she covered it as a cry escaped her lips.

  I pulled to a stop finally and shut the bike off.

  With both feet on the ground, I smiled at Sawyer and held out my hand for Ruthie.

  Ruthie used it to step free of the bike, then immediately started running full tilt toward Sawyer.

  Sawyer caught Ruthie, and both women went down to their knees as they wailed and cried.

  “Looks like you did well,” Kettle surmised.

  “Looks like you are going to get some good hea…” I gave Kettle a glare that could wither his balls to raisins.

  Needless to say, he shut up.

  I got off my bike and walked up to the two women, stopping beside them to look down at them.

  Sawyer was babbling about how happy she was to see Ruthie.

  “Ruthie,” Sawyer wailed. “I’m so glad you’re here! How’d you get out? I thought you had two more months!”

  Ruthie clung tighter to Sawyer. “Your man is what happened. He worked some magic with the Warden. They were able to move up my release to today. And you should see how crazy that place is right now after he got rid of four guards. They had to go into lockdown for an hour because they were questioning every single guard there about their involvement. It made the five o’clock news!”

  Sawyer’s eyes widened, then she turned her face up to my accusingly.

  “What’d you do?” She hissed.

  When I didn’t answer in enough time, she stood up and crowded in close to me.

  “Tell me,” she growled.

  I had to contain my smile.

  She was like a little housecat with her ferociousness that bordered on suicidal.

  It was refreshing to have someone stand up to me.
/>   Normally, they backed off before they could get too close.

  “It took some doing, but I started doing some research after hearing you cry about this in your sleep a few weeks ago. Then the night before last, when you were asleep in my arms, you spoke. I got two names out of that, and from there I was able to talk to your friend and get the rest,” I explained.

  “Had you asked,” Sawyer hissed at me, poking me in the chest with one long finger. “I would’ve told you that I was never raped.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “So you weren’t raped…were you ever touched inappropriately? Was something done to you that you didn’t want to happen?” I asked carefully.

  She snapped her mouth shut, moving her face from me to Ruthie.

  “I handled it…we handled it,” she finally decided on.

  My brows rose.

  “And what about all those other women? So y’all protected yourselves…good. But what about the other women who don’t have what y’all had with each other? Where did that leave them?” I countered.

  Her head dropped, and her shoulders dropped instantly in defeat.

  “I don’t like this,” she whispered. “I’m going to have to go to a court hearing now and tell them what happened.”

  I moved so my hand could cup her face.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do. And it’ll make you feel better when they’re gone. And because you don’t want me to kill them and go to jail if you don’t,” I whispered to her.

  Her eyes widened.

  “You wouldn’t,” she challenged skeptically.

  I smiled.

  I would, and she knew it.

  Not that I’d go to jail.

  I had too many connections and knew too much for the charges to stick if I were caught, which wouldn’t ever happen.

  I was too good to get caught.

  “I think you know the answer to that,” I said, placing my lips against hers softly. “I’m going to leave you here to catch up with your friend. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She pressed her lips against mine and wrapped her hands around my shoulders.

  “Thank you, Silas,” she said urgently. “Thank you so much.”

  “What are you doing with my sister?” Dallas bellowed from behind us.

  Fuck!

  Chapter 14

  Real women ride men who ride Harley’s.

  - Fact of Life

  Sawyer

  “I asked you a fucking question, you cradle robbing son of a bitch!” Dallas continued.

  “Jesus, Dallas, chill the fuck out!” I yelled a little too loudly.

  Dallas and Bristol were at the back steps of their house, watching the five of us, taking us in and sizing us up.

  Well, Bristol was.

  Dallas was upset over something that was quite ridiculous.

  “That’s your brother?” Ruthie whispered from behind me.

  I looked at her over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, that’s one of them, anyway. The oldest of the four of them,” I told her.

  I’d yet to see the other three. They were all in the Army and each one was currently deployed.

  Cole, Brody and Johnson were all the most badass badasses that I knew, and I was so damn proud of them that I could barely see straight.

  I just wished I could have seen them in the past eight years.

  Hand written mail just didn’t cut it sometimes.

  Dallas, though, was making up for their lack of being there.

  In spades.

  “I asked you a fuckin’ question, old fuckin’ man!” Dallas continued to scream.

  My eyes rolled over to Silas to see his eyes smiling, but his mouth set in a thin line.

  “I guess we’re not a secret anymore,” I whispered. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell him that we’ve used his car as a ‘fuck stand.’”

  He snorted and aimed his eyes down at me.

  “You’re not helping,” he growled.

  I shrugged. “I was always good at really fucking shit up,”

  “Obviously,” Ruthie said.

  Bristol finally broke from her husband, an official looking document in her hand.

  “Um, this just came for you. I had to sign for it. It’s from the state,” she said, handing it to me.

  I frowned, brows furrowing, and took it from her.

  “What is it?” I asked worriedly.

  The last time something official had been delivered, it was at the hands of two police officers saying I was being arrested for the death of those four people.

  Scared as hell to open it, I clutched it to my chest and looked at Silas worriedly.

  “It’s okay. Open it,” he urged.

  My brows rose. “What is it?”

  He smiled. “Just open it.”

  So I opened it, with my brother fuming at my front, and Silas and Ruthie at my back, giving me silent encouragement.

  And what I saw the minute my eyes met the paper astounded me.

  “What…how…why…” my brain wasn’t working.

  I couldn’t get my thoughts together.

  “The charges against you have been dropped, and restitution has been delivered to you from the state,” Ruthie said in awe as she read over my shoulder. “$25,000 is all they’re going to give you for them being wrong? What the fuck is that supposed to be?”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on. Why would I be proved innocent? I killed four people!” I burst out, surprising everybody.

  “I don’t understand,” Dallas said, reluctantly adding his two cents into the conversation.

  “How about we all take this inside, and I can explain. It wasn’t supposed to happen until next week,” Silas said. “I was going to ease everybody into this before it blew up in y’all’s faces.”

  Everyone followed, even the two big guys.

  Torren and Kettle, a.k.a. Mohawk Guy.

  Dallas entered first, being sure to toss ugly looks over his shoulder at Silas the entire way.

  We both ignored him.

  “When did you do this?” I asked him, holding back from the others.

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “That was who I was on the phone with the day you showed up to help with the tornado aftermath. I’d been working on that for nearly a month, trying to figure out just what the hell happened.”

  I looked at him. “I killed them, that’s what happened.”

  He took me by the hand and led me through Dallas’s house, like he owned the place.

  Must be a skill, though, because he did the same in my apartment.

  “Sit down and let me explain this, okay?” He asked.

  Reluctantly, I did so, sitting down in the chair that was facing the room as a whole.

  I loved this house.

  It was the same house that I’d grown up in when I was a young child.

  My parents had turned over the payments for the house to Dallas about a year after I’d been incarcerated. They had moved what was left of the family to the lake house.

  Something that’d burned since I’d expressed interest in taking over payments since they’d hinted at wanting to move out to the lake as soon as we were all out of the house. It was easier to make one house payment, so they had moved sooner.

  And it’d burned when my mother had told me she’d given the house to Dallas and Bristol.

  Burned deep and became a wound that would never heal.

  The whole entire house was an open floor plan. The dining room, kitchen, living room and entry way were all part of a single, massive room.

  There were four bedrooms, three of which we’d had to share between five kids.

  “Alright, cradle robber. We’re all here,” Dallas growled deep in his throat.

  Instinctively I grabbed for the nearest object, which happened to be a throw pillow, and launched it at him.

  It smacked him in the face, and he turned his glare on me.
/>   “We’re not allowed to throw stuff in the house,” Dallas said sarcastically, pulling the pillow into his chest.

  I rolled my eyes. “Says who?”

  “My wife,” he shot back.

  My brows rose. “And since when does your wife have any control over me?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re in her house, so you need to have more respect.”

  I was sure that my eyebrows were even with my hair-line at that moment in time.

  “I’ve lived in this house longer than she has. So if anybody has claim over the happenings, it’s me. I’m the eldest, after all,” I countered.

  “Yeah, but mom gave it to us, not you. I’m the one making the payments on it, not you. That’s where you’re wrong,” he hissed. “This isn’t your house anymore. And hasn’t been since you killed those people.”

  Dallas realized what he said when it left his mouth, but the damage had already been done.

  I turned my tear filled eyes to my Silas and said, “If you could tell us, that’d be great.”

  Silas’ eyes were not on me, though.

  They were on Dallas.

  He was acting like an ass, and Silas noticed.

  Hell, everyone in the room noticed.

  Ruthie was sitting on the side of my armchair now, and sometime during the spat between me and my brother, Kettle and Torren had migrated to stand directly behind me, giving me their silent support.

  I wasn’t sure how I’d won over these two men, but I was thankful.

  I could use all the help I could get right then.

  “Silas,” I said again.

  Reluctantly, he turned his head to me, then squared his shoulders.

  “The boy that was driving the car with the Neeson’s in it, his father, Rydel Jones, was understandably upset, and he paid off everyone involved to make sure that you went to prison for the maximum amount of time that you could,” Silas said without hesitation. “It took a while, but I realized the boy’s father was involved heavily with the government. He knew the right people, and he made sure he could fix it to where you went to prison based on evidence that wasn’t actually viable. You, although technically had some hint of alcohol in your system, had nowhere near enough to be considered legally ‘drunk.’ Although it’s still technically ‘manslaughter,’ it’s not something you should’ve been imprisoned for. And once I followed up with a few of those involved, I started to see a trend. I followed the money trail, something that Jones didn’t do a very good job of hiding.”