Heathens
Page 17
Jackie tried not to puke at the thought as Dean lunged towards the federal agent in anger, shouting threats as the local police restrained him. After several moments, they were finally able to shove him into the back of a cop car.
Diaz sighed happily at the scene, turning to Jackie with a smile. “I tried to warn you this is how things would turn out.”
Not able to form a coherent thought anymore as emotions flooded her, Jackie said nothing and allowed herself to be directed to a separate police vehicle.
41
Jackie sat in a cold, metal chair, thankful to at least be out of the handcuffs. Stuck in the interrogation room alone for what felt like hours, every second that ticked by made her feel more and more nervous.
Agent Diaz finally strolled into the dimly lit room, a massive smile on his face. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, no hint of an actual apology in his voice. “Had quite a few bikers to get booked, but it was completely worth the paperwork.” He pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and made himself comfortable, carefully adjusting his suit jacket.
“Where’s my son?” Jackie asked harshly, trying not to let him get her riled.
“Ah, sweet Oliver is in the good hands of one of the local officers until someone from CPS can get here to take custody of him.”
“You can’t take him!” she yelled, her hands clenching the arms of the chair.
“I can, but whether I do or not is entirely up to you and how cooperative you want to be with my investigation.”
Jackie glared darkly across the table, knowing he was trying to back her into a corner. “I want a lawyer.”
He sighed and gave her a condescending look as he shook his head. “But a lawyer doesn’t help you keep your son.”
Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the gray, metal table with a thud and leveled him with a stare. “I have nothing to do with the club, and you don’t have anything against me that will stick. So just save us all some time and let me and my kid go.”
Diaz stared at her in frustration, hoping she would give up something of use before he was forced to release her. Sure, the charges might stick, but he was all too familiar with the club’s lawyer and knew the likelihood of jail time for Jackie was slim. “Look, sweetheart-”
“You look,” she said forcefully, starting to lose the precarious grasp she held over her emotions. Jackie threw herself back into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve been shot at. I’ve had my hands covered in my friend’s blood. I’ve had my son taken from me. I’ve been put in handcuffs. And I’ve been harassed by you assholes for the last hour. It’s been a very long day, and I’m completely over your bullshit. So get me a fucking lawyer!” She ended in a hysterical screech, breathing heavily as she silently dared Diaz to try anything else.
With a huff, the agent hauled himself to his feet and headed towards the exit. “I’ll be back when your lawyer gets here then,” he replied diplomatically before shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary. He leaned against the handle, shifting his weight to one foot and putting a hand on his hip. Malloy stood at the two-way mirror with raised eyebrows, looking expectantly at his partner. “That went well,” Diaz said sarcastically in response.
“What exactly were you expecting?” Agent Malloy asked as he followed Diaz down the hall towards their temporary desks in the main bullpen near the front of the outdated police station. “She’s a biker bitch.”
“I was expecting her to fear prison time and losing her son enough to give me at least a few tidbits of information. I’m sure she doesn’t know that much, but she could have gotten us started.” He sunk down into his rolling chair heavily, not even bothering to take care of his crisp suit. “And as soon as the club’s lawyer shows up, that’ll pretty much be the end of our information gathering.”
The loud click-clack of stiletto high heels interrupted their conversation, drawing their attention to the short hallway towards the station’s front desk. The sergeant of the local police department entered the bullpen, followed by Luke, Nash, and a pair of sharply dressed newcomers.
The bright red pumps belonged to a middle-aged woman with a tan complexion and a perfectly coiffed blonde bob. Her strict, black power suit perfectly matched the scowl that seemed permanently etched into her face. Her partner was a little younger and a lot more amused by the situation, a smirk gracing his boyish face as he surveyed the scene. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants as the woman pulled out a business card and handed it to Malloy.
“Attorneys Lorraine Davis and Carter Fields of Davis and Fields Law Firm. We’re here to represent the members and interests of the Red Kings Motorcycle Club.”
Agent Malloy whistled lowly as he examined the card, before handing it off to his partner. Diaz was less impressed and leveled the bikers with a stare. “You guys must pay a hefty fee to get the partners of a firm like this to come down here.”
Carter answered, shrugging his shoulders smugly. “They pay a lot to get the best to deal with assholes like you.” He turned his head to look behind the federal agents, pointing casually. “Is that our baby?”
“Ms. Reeves’ son is currently waiting for Child Protective Services to collect him,” Agent Diaz stated tersely, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And what exactly are your charges against Ms. Reeves?” Lorraine said, her unimpressed expression matched with a head tilt to let him know just how stupid she thought he was.
“Child endangerment and being an accomplice to a known criminal organization.”
Carter huffed out a quiet laugh as his partner smiled politely. She took a small step forward, her heels clicking loudly on the old linoleum flooring. “You can try taking that to court if you want. But after wasting months and months of your time, the charges will end up getting thrown out. You and I both know this, so why even bother?”
They stood staring at one another, waiting for the other to concede. When neither budged, Carter took the opportunity to interject. “So we’ll be taking the baby now. Mr. Edwards, if you’d be so kind.” He gestured towards the officer holding the baby a few desks down, and Nash was quick to comply with the request. “And if someone could escort me to Ms. Reeves, that would be delightful.” Carter grinned merrily as the agents exchanged glances, then Malloy sighed and motioned for him to follow down the hall.
“I’d like to see the rest of my clients,” Lorraine said, leaving no room for arguments.
“Of course,” Agent Diaz replied with feigned politeness. “I was just about to start questioning them, so let’s head back, and we’ll get started.”
The pair walked down the opposite hall towards the holding cells, leaving the two bikers and the baby with the aging police sergeant, who coughed roughly before speaking. “Well, if you two would follow me back to the waiting area-”
Luke plopped himself into the rolling chair next to one of the vacant desks, swinging his feet up unceremoniously onto the top of it. “We’re just fine right here, thanks.”
The sergeant’s bushy, gray mustache wiggled as he scrunched his face, contemplating whether he wanted to push the issue. Quickly realizing it wasn’t worth the effort, he shrugged a shoulder and headed back up to his office alone.
Gently bouncing the nervous baby in his arms, Nash glanced around the bullpen area wearily. “This is bad.”
“It’s not great,” Luke said with a sigh, leaning back in the chair and folding his hands behind his bald head. “But right now, these guys are just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. It’s not time to panic just yet.”
The two bikers sat in silence, casting sharp glares at officers that stared too long. The atmosphere in the station was notable, a feeling of triumphant victory filling the air. This was it - the Red Kings Motorcycle Club had finally taken a hit. After all this time, they’d be off the streets and behind bars where they belonged. The law was about to beat them, and the officers were ready to celebrate.
Several
minutes passed before Malloy and Carter reappeared, a visibly relieved Jackie following closely behind the pair. Her eyes immediately landed on Oliver, and she closed the distance between them in seconds. Wrapping her arms around both the baby and the man holding him, she tried to keep her composure as relief washed over her. Nash pulled the smaller woman to his chest, careful not to squish Oliver in the process as he held them both tight in his tattooed grip.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Agent Malloy said with a roll of his eyes. “Child Protective Services will be stopping by to visit you whether we press charges or not. There’s still no guarantee you get to keep the kid.”
“Are you threatening my client?” the attorney asked, shoving his hands arrogantly into the pockets of his blue dress pants. “Because it sounds like you are. Maybe I’ll draw up some papers for harassment? Witness intimidation? I can think of several legal loopholes to make your life a real living hell for the foreseeable future.” Carter smiled smugly, rocking on the balls of his feet happily as Malloy stalked off down the hall he’d come from. He turned to the trio, taking a deep breath. “Well, you guys should get out of here while you still can. I imagine questioning will take all night, can't wait.” He gave them a mock salute, then followed in the direction of the federal agent as he whistled a cheerful tune.
Jackie sniffed, entirely overwhelmed by the whirlwind of the last few hours. “How’s Dean? Have the guys been charged? Is Ian okay?” She rattled off questions as they came to her, not sure where to start.
“Fine, not yet, and we don’t know,” Luke replied casually from his seated position. “TJ is at the hospital with-” He was cut off by the shrill ringtone of the phone in his front pocket. “This is him now,” he said wearily, hitting the answer button as he dropped his feet loudly back to the floor. “TJ, you got an update?”
The other two waited with breaths held, staring intently as they watched Luke’s impassive face for any clues. After several minutes, the club president moved the phone from his face and hit the end call button without a word.
Jackie brought a hand to her mouth as Luke looked up at them. “Oh god…”
“Ian’s dead.”
42
“Move.”
The command was followed by an impatient shove, causing Dean to glare over his shoulder as the cop pulled him down the hallway of the police station in handcuffs.
“Push me again, asshole. Weapons possession won’t be the only thing they charge me with.”
The officer scoffed, wholly unimpressed by the threat. “Yeah, you’re a real tough guy.” He opened the door to an interrogation room, seating Dean in the chair and locking his cuffs to the chain attached to the table. The officer moved to stand by the door, hand arrogantly resting on his gun as he stared at the seated man. “Please, gimme a reason.”
Their standoff was interrupted as Attorney Lorraine Davis and Agent Diaz entered the room.
“Have you had enough time to discuss things with your client, or do you need a few more minutes?” Diaz asked politely, keeping this by the book. He hoped something would shake loose despite the presence of the lawyer.
Lorraine sat down in the rickety metal chair next to Dean, laying her binder open on the table and folding her hands on top of it. “We’re all set. You may begin.”
Diaz bit back a snarky comment and instead optioned to take the chair across the table from them as he motioned for the local officer to exit the room. As the door closed, Diaz took a dramatic breath and propped himself on the table with his forearms. “Where to begin,” he said sarcastically, trying to contain his excitement at finally having a reason to throw this guy in jail. “What do you know about a series of car thefts in the area?”
"You arrested my client for possession of firearms. Let’s keep the questions relevant.”
Gritting his teeth, Diaz tried to hide his annoyance as he watched Dean casually lean back in his chair as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “Of course. Did you know it’s a crime for a felon to possess a firearm?”
“My client is aware but felt it was necessary for his personal safety. As such, he was right, considering a gang known to local law enforcement attacked his club unprovoked.”
“Unprovoked? So there’s nothing you can think of that would have given them motive to shoot up your clubhouse? It was just random?”
Dean smirked, leaning on the back legs of his chair as far as the chain on his handcuffs would allow. “Maybe they were mad that I called them irrelevant.”
“So, you know them?”
“May have run into a few of them once or twice. It’s a big city.”
“Are you aware that we picked up several Dead Saints members about a week ago?”
“I heard.”
“Did you also hear that they thought your club was responsible for the tip that led to their arrest?”
Lorraine began to scribble on her notepad, a stern expression marring her face as she looked back up at the federal agent. “Are you suggesting that this gang was given false information to implicate my clients and thus put a target on the club? Because it sounds very much like your office is solely to blame for the attack.”
“We can’t be held responsible for any incorrect conclusions these guys made based on the information they had, but you’re welcome to file a formal complaint if you’d like.”
“It will be at the top of my to-do list.”
“Wonderful.” Diaz directed his attention back to the man in cuffs. “So this gang you didn’t know that shot up your clubhouse for no reason, did your club have any common acquaintances with them? Any overlapping business practices?”
Dean stared at him, a small, cocky smile on his face. “Not to my knowledge.”
“No? Never crossed paths with them in your dealings with cars at the auto shop you guys run?”
“My client said he has no knowledge of any interactions between the two groups. Next question.”
With a huff at being redirected, Diaz tried a different tactic. “I spoke with Jackie earlier-”
Dean immediately tensed, sitting up and closing some of the distance between himself and the table. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”
“Relax,” Lorraine responded, laying a calming hand on the man’s tattooed forearm as she cut her eyes at the agent. “Ms. Reeves was questioned and subsequently released with Oliver about half an hour ago. They aren’t pressing charges. He’s just trying to rile you up.” She directed her attention back to the man across from her, looking unimpressed. “Juvenile tactic, Agent Diaz. Get to your point, our patience here is running low.”
Diaz narrowed his dark eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as he continued to get nowhere with the conversation. He opened his mouth to try again but was interrupted by a knock at the door. An officer entered, quickly closing the space between them and leaning down to whisper something as he glanced over at the biker in chains.
The federal agent’s brows raised as he tilted his head at the new information. “Thank you,” he said quietly to the newcomer as the officer nodded and exited the interrogation room. “Well, bad news. Looks like your friend Ian didn’t make it.”
Dean’s eyes hardened as he tried to keep his expression neutral. “You’re lying.” He looked to the attorney for confirmation, hoping she would call Diaz out for another attempt at trying to get in his head.
“Is there a question in there somewhere?” Lorraine asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to more stable ground. “If not, then we’re done here.”
“My question is: can you really think of no reason for the Saints to want you and your friends dead?”
“We caught them trying to jack cars in our territory.”
There was a quick pause, Lorraine’s head jerking to stare at Dean in alarm as Diaz sat back slightly at the surprising turn of events. “And you’re willing to testify to that?”
“My client-”
“Yes.” Dean leaned his forearms on the metal table, his nostril
s flaring in anger as he stared down the agent. “I’ll admit to whatever you want so long as you throw those assholes in the cell with me.”
“Dean, enough.” Lorraine closed her notebook forcefully, throwing the pen on the table. “Agent Diaz, we’re done here.”
“Your client just admitted-”
“My client is under extreme duress at the news that his good friend has died. We’re done.”
Diaz stared at her, wanting to push the issue, but knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere right now. He gave a half nod and got up from the table, heading for the door. Lorraine turned to face Dean, a stern look in her eyes.
“Unless you want to do time for more than just weapons possession, I suggest you keep your mouth shut from now on.”
Dean glared in response, unconcerned at the moment with what was going to happen to him.
There would be hell to pay for the loss of his friend, of that he could be certain.
43
Jackie entered the dark apartment with a screaming Oliver nestled into the baby carrier hanging from her arm. “Yeah, I know. I feel the same way,” she said tiredly, flipping a light on and tossing her bag haphazardly onto the small dining table by the door. The chaos from the day had finally settled, but in the quiet is when it really hit her.
She’d been shot at. She’d watched Ian bleed out. She’d been handcuffed and questioned. She’d almost had her child taken from her.
It was all she could do to make it to the couch before she collapsed, tears falling freely down her cheeks as she reveled in the safety of her own home. Dean and the guys were looking at actual jail time with an unlikely chance of avoiding it. She was going to be stuck raising a baby on her own, nevermind the idea of trying to buy the diner now. And Ian…
Ian was dead. His blood had run like rivers through her fingers, staining her hands a bright red. A red that was still smeared on her skin and clothes even as she sat there.