Lies & Deception

by Nic Starr

  “Like I said, you did good. Stepped up.” Rocky rested his cigarette in the ashtray and folded his arms again. He leaned across the table, his gaze piercing. “We look after our own too, Mitch, and you’re proving yourself to be a real asset. If things had gone pear-shaped, if the cops had found the gear you took from Pete, you could have been in real trouble, but if they found the stuff in Pete’s car, then things would have gotten really ugly. Bad for you, for Pete, for all of us.”

  Mitch kept a neutral expression, as he knew the cops had waited until they weren’t being observed, then searched the car and rifled through the drug paraphernalia in the ute. They’d found a quantity of heroin that definitely indicated distribution and not personal use. They took an inventory but left things where they were—there were bigger fish to fry, and they’d all be brought to justice soon enough.

  “What impact does Pete being out of the picture have on the deal?” Mitch introduced the topic as casually as he could.

  “We’re a man short. But I have a solution.”

  Mitch took a last drag of the cigarette and stubbed it into the ashtray. “What have you got in mind?”

  “I had a talk with Stack, and we agreed that you’ve proven yourself, and we could trust you to step in.”

  “Hell yeah!” Mitch didn’t have to feign his excitement. This was just what he’d been waiting for.

  Rocky raised a brow. “You don’t know what we want you to do yet.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I just want another chance to prove myself to you, to show my allegiance. This’ll get me closer to full club membership, right?”

  Rocky chuckled. “Let’s see how things go first. But it’s good to see you’re keen. And you’ve got more guts than that piss-weak brother of mine. Although maybe I should get him to come along. Getting his hands dirty might be just the thing to toughen him up.”

  The thought of Finn intercepting the shipment, handling the drugs, and putting himself in the direct line of the police sting gave Mitch the cold shivers. Much better that Finn stayed in the office dealing with the books, because God only knew what could go down at that warehouse.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re leaving him out of this because it’s my chance—”

  “Ah, about time,” Rocky said as Stack entered the room, the sliding door slamming behind him. He dropped his large frame into a chair and greeted Mitch with a grunt and a nod.

  “Stack.” Mitch nodded back.

  “So time to go over the plans.” Rocky smiled wide. “It’s nearly showtime.”

  Thank fucking Christ; this can’t be over soon enough.

  FINN FELT awful about the argument with Mitch. He knew Mitch didn’t have much choice other than to follow Rocky’s orders, and it still pissed him off, but he knew Mitch cared about Pete. After Mitch finished his meeting with Rocky and collected Finn from the office, he was insistent they stop by the hospital to see if there had been any change in Pete’s condition.

  The smell of the hospital was unavoidable. The distinctive mix of antiseptic and cleaning products—at least that’s what Finn assumed it was—assaulted his nostrils and stirred the memories of his previous visits. But instead of the overwhelming sense of sadness and the compelling urge to get out of the building as quickly as he could that he experienced the previous night, Finn felt more in control. Just knowing Mitch was at his side was reassuring.

  Their boots sounded loudly on the worn linoleum, but, as if sharing the same thought, they slowed and stepped more carefully as they approached the third-floor waiting room the hospital receptionist downstairs had directed them to. They stopped at the threshold, and Mitch stiffened beside him.

  “Mitch?” The woman who rose from the chair was small, her voice quiet and tentative. “Mitch?”

  She looked uncertain for a moment as she stood across the room and stared at Mitch as if he were an apparition that would disappear at any moment. When he finally moved into the room, her eyes lit up in happiness, momentarily losing that sad, hollow look. When she smiled, she was transformed, looking years younger than only seconds before. She took a step forward, and then another. When she reached Mitch, she wrapped her arms around him, and Mitch pulled her into a hug. The top of her brown curly hair only came up to his chin, and Mitch looked over her head at Finn while he held the woman and gently patted her shoulder. She eventually pulled away and tilted her tear-stained face to Mitch, who met her gaze.

  Her voice quavered as she spoke. “Oh my gosh, it really is you. It’s so lovely to see you, sweetheart. It’s been so long.”

  “It’s nice to see you too, Judith.” Mitch’s voice was gruff. “I only wish it was under better circumstances. How is he? Has there been any change since we last spoke?”

  She dabbed a handkerchief against her cheek and slowly shook her head. “There hasn’t been any change since last night.”

  “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Mitch asked.

  “I think so. The doctors haven’t been providing much information. But I think it’s because there isn’t a lot they can tell us. It’s very much a waiting game. But you’re right, it is good that he hasn’t deteriorated. It could be a lot worse.”

  “I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this.”

  “I know you are, sweetheart.” She raised a hand to the side of Mitch’s face. “You’re looking as handsome as ever. I guess life is treating you well? Peter doesn’t tell me much about what you’re up to. Are you doing okay? How are things at work? Are you staying safe?”

  Mitch flicked his gaze to Finn’s. “Work is going great, thanks, Judith. In fact, let me introduce you to one of my colleagues. I work with Finn at the bike shop.”

  Judith Crowley looked to Finn as she finally noticed him at the doorway. “The bike shop?”

  “Yeah. Come in, Finn.” Mitch beckoned him into the room.

  Finn held out his hand to the woman as he approached. “Hi. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Crowley. I’m Finn Cummings. I work with Peter and Mitch. I’m so sorry about what happened to Pete.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes welled up and she raised the handkerchief again. “You know my son?”

  “I do. Pete and I met a few months ago when he was in Melbourne. He works for my family’s business—Cummings Motorcycles.”

  “Oh, I see.” She looked back at Mitch, her brow furrowed. “And you work there too? That’s a bit of a change.”

  Mitch nodded. “I do. Pete got me the job at the beginning of the year. It’s been great. The job’s good, and it was nice to reconnect with Pete again. Where’s Larry?”

  “He’s ducked down to the café to get sandwiches and bring back coffee.”

  “Perhaps you both should take a break and head out for some fresh air. Or maybe you and Larry could sit and enjoy your coffee in the coffee shop? Finn and I would be happy to wait here for news and can call you if the doctors come or there’s any change.”

  “Oh, thank you, sweetheart, but I couldn’t possibly. I can’t leave until I’m 100 percent certain Peter’s going to be okay.” She looked between Mitch and Finn. “The police said it was a hit-and-run. Do you know anything about it?”

  Mitch glanced at Finn. “Err… yeah. Finn and I were there.”

  “What happened?”

  “Let’s sit down, shall we?” Mitch took Mrs. Crowley by the hand and led her back to the seat where she’d been sitting. She sat and picked up her handbag from the floor, rummaging inside for a clean handkerchief before balancing the bag on her lap. She looked expectantly between Mitch and Finn. Mitch took a seat in the chair adjacent to her, and Finn sat in the next chair along.

  He took a deep breath before beginning the story. “I was in the car with Pete heading out for a few drinks after work. We were parking outside the pub, and Pete had just got out of the car when another car sped past and hit him.” He didn’t want to go into any further detail. Pete’s mum didn’t need to know the horror of seeing Pete lying broken on the bitumen in an ever-increasing pool of his own blood.


  Mitch leaned across and placed a hand on Mrs. Crowley’s knee. “Finn stopped the bleeding until the ambulance arrived, then traveled to the hospital with Pete.”

  She grasped the handles of her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white. “Thank you, Finn. So you’re friends with Peter, then? More than just workmates?”

  Finn nodded, but he wished he’d been a better friend, had tried harder to help Pete. “We’ve gotten to be friends since he stayed with me in Melbourne.”

  “My boy didn’t mention you. Or maybe he did, but only in passing. Peter has been… distant lately, not spending much time with his father and me, not talking much. We don’t know what goes on in his life anymore. We’ve been so worried about him.” She lowered her voice. “The drugs, the dangerous situations he’s putting himself in….”

  Her voice trailed away as the tears rose again.

  Finn felt a need to reassure her. “We can only pray Pete’s going to recover, but you need to know that he’s a good man, Mrs. Crowley. He’s doing some things that would make you really proud.”

  He caught Mitch’s eye and could sense Mitch’s confusion. There was so much he wished he could talk to Mitch about: how Pete felt a sense of hopelessness for his own situation and how he wanted to make amends. Finn wanted to tell Mitch exactly how Pete was trying to make things right.

  Finn had a sudden memory of the afternoon when Pete told him to go to Mitch if anything happened to Pete, that Mitch could be trusted. And Finn’s gut told him that was true—Mitch could be trusted. A weight had been lifted. He smiled at Mitch as he resolved to talk to him later.

  He met Mrs. Crowley’s eyes again. “But he’s going to be fine. He’ll come through this okay, and then he’ll be able to tell you himself.”

  “I do hope so. But thank you for saying what you did about Pete. I’ve been so worried about him.” She looked to the door. “Oh, there you are, love. Look who’s here.”

  Finn turned as an older gentleman entered the room. It wasn’t hard to see where Pete got his good looks from—the man looked like an older and healthier version of his friend, but at that moment, Pete’s father looked devastated. Slumped shoulders and red-rimmed eyes, evidence he’d been crying. Waiting for news of their son was obviously taking a lot out of both Pete’s parents. Mr. Crowley put the cardboard tray he was carrying on a small table. He stood uncertainly until Mitch rose, holding out his arms and pulling him into a hug. They gave each other a healthy back slap, but the hug obviously held a lot of emotion and indicated a once-close relationship between the two men.

  Mr. Crowley pulled back but didn’t let go of Mitch, holding him by the upper arms and smiling at him. “It’s good to see you, son. Thank you so much for being here. It means a lot.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve missed you being around.”

  “I wish it was under better circumstances, Larry. I’ve missed hanging with you guys, too, and Mrs. C’s cooking, of course.” Mitch’s comment seemed to lighten the mood, and Mrs. Crowley smiled a genuine smile for the first time since they entered the room. Mr. Crowley released Mitch and moved to his wife’s side, sitting beside her and placing an arm around her shoulders. Mitch retrieved the drinks and sandwiches Mr. Crowley appeared to have forgotten, and passed a cup to each of them.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” Mrs. Crowley smiled at Mitch. She placed a hand on Mitch’s knee when he sat back down, the three of them leaning close.

  Finn felt slightly uncomfortable as he watched them together, as if he were intruding on a private moment. They shared memories, obviously reminiscing about happier times, times when Mitch and Pete were together. Mitch met his gaze every now and then, giving him a reassuring smile, perhaps trying to let him know he wasn’t excluded.

  With each story, every remembered good time spent celebrating a special occasion, each mention of the past, Finn’s chest tightened. At first he thought it was jealousy, being envious of the close bond Mitch shared with these people. He’d never known such closeness and wondered what it would be like to have a history that was more than loneliness and fear. Perhaps it was the reminder of the time Pete and Mitch had spent together, but the more he listened, the longer he watched Mitch comfort Mr. and Mrs. Crowley, he realized it wasn’t jealousy at all. The strange feeling in his chest, the thickness in his throat, the pricking behind his eyes, was a mixture of pride and admiration at the way Mitch was helping the couple and keeping an eye on Finn, all while dealing with his own emotional state.

  More and more he was starting to realize Mitch was one of the good guys. Isn’t he? He had to be because Finn didn’t think his heart was up to falling for one of the bad guys and then being broken when everything went to shit. Because it would. Things were in motion that would bring everything in Finn’s world crashing down.

  Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

  MITCH TOOK the takeaway coffee cup from Ross, grateful he’d brought it to the meeting at the safe house. He sunk into the seat and took a reviving gulp. Ross slid a paper bag with muffins across the table before making a call. Within moments the teleconference was established.

  “Hi, Rowena. So what have you got for me?” Mitch spoke into the speakerphone.

  He could hear her rifling through some papers. “Got some more detailed background on some of the Soldiers including Warren Jones. He’s one messed-up son of a bitch. I’ve got no idea how he’s managed to stay out of prison.”

  “He hasn’t done any time? It doesn’t make sense, not for someone like him.”

  “Arrested, not convicted.”

  “He’s one lucky motherfucker,” Ross said, glancing up from his laptop.

  “Yep,” Rowena agreed.

  Ross picked up a page from the manila folder in front of him and passed it over the table to Mitch.

  He scanned down the list. When he reached the bottom, he was astounded. “How the hell hasn’t he been convicted? This is a goddamned A to Z of crime.”

  Rowena snorted, the sound loud through the phone. “That man’s like bloody Teflon—nothing sticks.” Once again there was the sound of papers rustling as he assumed Rowena referred to her notes. “He and Rocky are similar in many ways. Rocky is a classic example of narcissistic personality disorder—self-important and needing to have others look up to him. His sense of entitlement makes him appear controlling, intolerant, and selfish. If he can’t get his own way, he resorts to anger, which can have devastating consequences. Drug use would only exacerbate his irrational behavior and violent tendencies. Warren—Stack—has clear psychopathic traits. He’s quieter, more controlled and disciplined.”

  Ross pushed the laptop away and dragged a hand over his tired face. He focused on Mitch. “Couple Stack with Rocky, and the whole club is a recipe for disaster. Imploding isn’t a possibility; it’s inevitable.”

  “Thank God things are coming to a head, then,” Mitch replied.

  “What has me most concerned is what happened to Pete. We haven’t found the white Commodore yet but assume it’s one of the Brute Riders. We’ve checked CCTV footage and canvassed the local area, but no luck getting the plates. We’ll keep digging, and it’s only a matter of time. Did Lucky Reed come close to catching or identifying them?”

  Mitch shook his head. “He had to stop the chase when he saw a police car heading toward him. It was heading to the scene of the accident. Anyway, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself and the bike, so slowed down. By the time he could give chase again, the Commodore had gotten away from him.”

  “Is there any word on the location for the shipment delivery?” Ross asked.

  “Not yet. But as I told you, Rocky wants me to step in, fill Pete’s shoes on the job. I’ve been doing a bit of driving for him as well as taking Finn to and from work, and there’s a meeting on Monday. I’m hoping I’ll get more details then. It’s hard to get access to Rocky’s office, and anyway, I don’t think it’s the type of info he leaves lying around. I managed a quick sweep and came up empty-handed. Finn keeps his computer completely locked dow
n. I think it’s been drummed into him to never leave it accessible, so it’ll be up to Lana to crack that one.”

  “She’s on it,” Ross confirmed. “I hope you’re right about the meeting. With Pete in hospital and out of the picture, we don’t have anyone on the inside to pass us the information.”

  “I’m working on getting them to open up more. After what happened with Pete, they trust me more. I just don’t want to ask too many pointed questions.”

  “What about working on Finn some more? From what you’ve said, he doesn’t like Rocky.”

  “That’s an understatement. He’s also been pretty clear he doesn’t like the direction the club is headed. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have any loyalty and would take direct action against them. After all, he was brought up in the club and it meant a great deal to his father and other brother. If we approach Finn and he realizes how close the task force is, it might backfire. The risk is too high. Especially when I can keep a close eye on him regardless.”

  Ross looked up from his keyboard and leveled his gaze on Mitch. “You know best. But if there’s any chance—”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him and see what else he knows, but I think he’s passed on whatever Rocky has told him. Monday will be D-day. That should give our guys enough time to set things up on this end.”

  “I hope so.” Ross finished typing something and clicked his laptop shut.

  “Do you guys need anything more from me?” Rowena asked, her voice cutting into the conversation “If not, I’ll leave you to it.”

  “All good,” Ross said. “Thanks, Ro.”

  Mitch used Rowena’s departure from the call as a chance to stretch his legs. It had been a long and frustrating morning already. He paced the small apartment before returning to his seat to finish his coffee.