Blood and Justice: A Legal Thriller (Brad Madison Legal Thriller Series Book 4)

by J J Miller

  Slovak gave me the rundown on what HardShell offered their clients. They had vaults on this premises as well as other compounds in LA. All their bases, Scooter said, were safer than banks. Slovak said he took an early interest in Bitcoin and had suggested to Rollins that they could sell finance systems to clients as an add-on to the couriering service. He made crypto accounts easy for HardShell clients. A safe, discreet way for them to store money. And the fact that Bitcoin and others had shot up in value brought a smile to all involved.

  “So how’s business?”

  “Booming. It’s going off the charts. At least it was until Chip screwed it up.”

  “So you do think he did it?”

  As I said this, I noticed that, over Scooter’s shoulder, Cliff was paying close attention to our conversation, his eyes fixed on the back of Scooter’s head.

  Scooter, realizing he’d spoken too readily, sought to modify his position. “All I know is that we’re struggling to keep our clients now. They’re a nervous bunch of people anyway, and this bullshit has scared the shit out of them. We handle millions of dollars. That’s our stock trade. If we can’t be trusted to handle millions of dollars safely, then we have no business. It’s not rocket science. Our reputation has taken a blow, and Rollins is out there trying to stop clients from pulling out.”

  “For argument’s sake, let’s say Chip was in on it. He had to have inside help, right?”

  “Not necessarily. He could have gotten anyone to help him if he planned it. And I don’t know anyone at HardShell who’d be willing to kill Nate and Bo in cold blood.”

  Slovak’s face had hardened with anger.

  “Is that why you put the cops onto Chip’s money?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you look pissed. Did you know half a mill had just dropped into Chip’s account after the robbery?”

  “No, I didn’t. How could I? I can’t access Chip’s account. I just gave the cops the block chain, or account data. They did the rest.”

  “You had no problem helping the cops investigate Chip, the guy you say saved your life?”

  “Look, of course I was torn. But they’d subpoenaed our own financial statements. They were going to find it one way or another.”

  “I see.”

  I switched my eyeline to Cliff, who was not looking happy and shaking his head. Then, as soon as he realized I was watching, his head went still immediately.

  Slovak surmised that I was skeptical. “Mr. Madison,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “Just come out and say it. You think that because I’m the money guy here I helped Chip steal from my own company? You think I’d do that? For a million dollars?”

  He shook his head and scoffed. “Look, I’m not on the Forbes rich list or anything but I’m doing okay. And the idea that I’d risk not only destroying this business but pissing off people who’d skin me alive if they ever suspected I was involved… I’m not that stupid.”

  “But you think Chip is?”

  “He’s not stupid, but he’s no saint either. Like I said, risk brings its own rewards.”

  There was a pause. Slovak sat back and folded his arms.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked.

  “No, Scooter. That’s enough for now. Thanks.”

  “Well, thanks for dropping by,” he said, getting to his feet and putting out his hand. “If I can help anytime feel free to give me a call.”

  “Will do.”

  “Cliff will see you out,” he said without looking back. Cliff was already at the gun rack.

  At the scanner, I lowered by head.

  “Seems to me you didn’t like what Scooter was saying back there,” I said to Cliff quietly.

  Cliff said nothing.

  I moved through the scanner and turned back to see that his face was as impassive as it was when I first entered the building.

  I heard a click behind me as Cliff released the lock from where he stood.

  “Good day, Mr. Madison,” he said, his voice cold as stone.

  Chapter 16

  I got back to the office around three. I was two steps into the foyer of my building when I heard my phone ping with a text message. I fished it out of my pocket to see a message from Bella.

  “Hi Dad. Back at Mom’s now. Miss you xx”

  My heart melted. I had my thumb poised to reply when a booming voice filled the room.

  “Madison!”

  I didn’t need eyes to tell who was addressing me. I instantly recognized the voice and its owner’s fondness for deploying it at full volume.

  The one and only Wes Brenner was striding towards me. “Striding” was putting it favorably. A man Brenner’s size doesn’t stride so much as stomp. There are fatter men than Brenner, but he was snout-in-the-trough politician fat. Fat cat fat. He looked like there was never a free meal he’d turn down, never a hot dog he’d refuse on the campaign trail, never a burger he was too full to demolish. And the thing was, he seemed pleased with his bulk. To him, it was part of his power. Occupying more space in the world than most people was something he felt entitled to.

  Another thing he felt entitled to was to reclaim his seat in the State Senate.

  As he stepped toward me on the carpeted cement floor, I could swear I felt the ground shudder. That was the thing with Brenner: he disrupted the very earth around him.

  “What do you want, Brenner?”

  He stopped a yard in front of me, panting. “I should have known you’d take the case.”

  “Is there something you want to talk about?”

  He nodded. But of course, there was no way he just wanted to talk. He wanted to give me a piece of his mind.

  “You’re defending a man who murdered his friends and stole a million dollars. What a life you lead.”

  “I know it means nothing to you, Brenner, but what you are referring to are allegations. My client is entitled to his day in court, and I mean to see that he gets it, and that he is treated fairly. It’s a fundamental citizen’s right. But that’s not something you’re too concern with, is it?”

  “This state’s cannabis laws are a travesty,” he yelled, as though he was addressing people in the mall outside as opposed to me three feet in front of him. “I warned everyone against Proposition 64. I said it would foster a nefarious industry ruled by lowlifes. And that’s exactly what’s happened. And we have you liberal bedwetters to thank for it.”

  Brenner had always been a staunch anti-drugs campaigner and the spate of cannabis-related crime had put extra wind in his sails. He took one step closer and shoved a finger into my face.

  “Let me tell you, Madison. When I get back in the Senate, things are going to change. I’ll be shutting down the scum like your client. Kicking them out of business.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You mark my words. I’m going to clean house. If I can’t get a repeal of the cannabis laws altogether, then I’m going make sure the only companies that can operate in it are those of tried and tested standing.”

  “Brilliant. A policy of idiocy and misunderstanding glued together with misinformation. Let me guess, those companies you speak of. Big pharma, am I right?”

  “It’s the only way to clean up this mess.”

  I tapped Brenner on his fleshy upper arm. “Good for you, Brenner. How much are they paying you to champion their cause?”

  “They’re not—”

  “It’ll be interesting to get a close look at who’s funding your campaign,” I said as I made for the stairs.

  “Just good-hearted people who are sick of woke liberals turning this country to the dogs,” he called out at me.

  “Okay, Brenner. Lovely chatting with you.”

  As I passed the elevator, I stopped and pressed the up button.

  “That’s for you,” I said. “I’m guessing you’re not taking the stairs.”

  Chapter 17

  The banter flew thick and fast as the players bustled around the court. It may have be
en just another meaningless game of streetball, but to these guys it was all that mattered right now.

  A shirtless black player took possession and paused outside the three-point line, dribbling the ball with smooth, casual confidence as he weighed up his options. He then dummied a snap pass to a team-mate before driving hunched over for the hoop. His first opponent was left clutching air. The second, though, checked him hard inside the paint. The dropped ball was snapped up by another opponent, who raced to the other end, leapt high and slammed the ball through the netless hoop.

  As he trotted back down court, high-fiving his team-mates, that’s when Cliff, the guard who’d greeted me at HardShell, saw me. Immediately, his happy grin evaporated. His brow furrowed in annoyance.

  He called for a player to sub for him and marched straight for me. I stayed where I was, leaning against the black chain-link fence.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Cliff demanded.

  “Really, Cliff? As good as you guys are, I didn’t come here to watch a pickup game.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “What can I say? I’m resourceful.”

  “Did you follow me here?”

  Cliff stepped even closer, looking like he wanted to punch me. I ignored his question. But for the record, yes, I did follow him.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Like hell we do,” said Cliff. He spun his back around to see who was watching us. All his friends were paying no mind to us at all. They were absorbed in the game. “I got nothing to say to you.”

  “What’s with the hostility? Don’t you want to help your friend Chip?”

  “I can’t do anything for Chip.”

  “Is that so. You can’t or you won’t?”

  Cliff didn’t answer. One of the other guys called him back to the court. Cliff waved him off.

  “I just need a few minutes,” I said.

  “You can wait all day. I ain’t staying, and we ain’t talking.”

  I pulled out my phone. “You got the job at HardShell through Nate Reed, right?”

  Cliff made a point of keeping his mouth firmly shut.

  “That was a rhetorical question. I know you did.”

  Cliff just stared, jutting his chin out at me.

  “You, Cliff Loda, and Nate did basic training together. Nate went on to join the 5th Infantry Regiment and got posted to Iraq. And you were there alongside him. All the way. Or so the story goes, right?”

  Cliff began grinding his jaw.

  “But you and I both know that that’s bullshit, don’t we?”

  Nothing. Standing dead still. Nostrils flaring.

  “You never deployed with Nate.”

  I could almost see the panic erupt within.

  “You never went to Iraq, Cliff Loda. You never got posted anywhere. Because you never finished basic training. For the ten years prior to joining HardShell, you were posted to stand guard over nothing more hostile than a parking lot. Isn’t that right?”

  Fear had now seeped into Cliff’s eyes.

  “Now, I understand if you don’t feel up to talking with me. I’ll just take that to mean you’re okay with me setting Quinn straight about the bullshit artist he’s got working for him. If I’m any judge of character, he’s not going to be happy about being lied to. Especially not now, when he’s in the thick of a crisis, and he doesn’t know who to trust.”

  Cliff turned his head around, looking over his shoulder as if checking whether Quinn was in the vicinity.

  “You’re scared of him. No shame in admitting that. If he’s anything like me, he hates guys who go around impersonating a soldier. Someone who completely fabricates their military record. Someone who’s never fired a single shot in defense of his men, his unit, his country.”

  Cliff bowed his head and his body sagged.

  “I needed a job. You pretty much have to be a vet to get the gig, so I stretched the truth, with Nate’s help. Quinn didn’t even interview me. And Scooter was so busy he just took Nate on his word.”

  “I’m sure you don’t need to be a war hero to do your job, Cliff. But is that the extent of it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you one of those weasels who goes out on Memorial Day wearing a uniform they bought from a surplus store and fake medals they got off eBay? If I find out you are then, I promise you, I will bring the four walls of Hell down upon you.”

  “Shit, Mr. Madison. I don’t do stuff like that. I don’t go around telling people I served. It was just to get the job. And even at work I keep my mouth shut. I never talk about anything to do with the military. I can do the job. It’s not that hard.”

  “But it entails a significant degree of risk, and your co-workers are counting on you to know what to do if and when bullets start flying.”

  “Yes. That’s true. But it hasn’t come to that. And I’m no coward.”

  “Just a liar.”

  Cliff’s head dropped.

  “That’s right. And I’m in good company there at HardShell.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Cliff exhaled, kicking himself for speaking without thinking. “It’s a good company in that it pays well…”

  “But?”

  “But it’s not good in other ways.”

  “Like what?”

  Cliff paused, trying intently to read me. “Why should I tell you anything? Why should I trust you?”

  “Listen. You don’t have to. But what you do need to understand is that I don’t give a damn about what you get up to, so long as your military role-playing bullshit is limited to HardShell. My one aim is to defend my client. I’m out to clear Chip’s name. I don’t think he committed this crime and something tells me you don’t either. Am I right?”

  Cliff nodded. “Yes.”

  “Okay. You said the company wasn’t any good in some ways. I’d like some specifics.”

  Someone from the court called out Cliff’s name. The game had finished and they were getting ready to leave. One guy came up and asked Cliff if he was coming for a beer. He declined. Cliff’s friend got the feeling I wasn’t someone Cliff wanted to introduce him to, so he went on his way. When the guy had gone, Cliff turned around and gazed over the court.

  “Nate and me were buddies long ago but he changed a lot, man.”

  “How so?”

  “He was wild. Out of control, sometimes. I mean, there were a lot of stories flying around, some were hard to believe but other shit rang true.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I heard he’d killed some dude. Him and Bo.”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t know. It was over money. A shit load of money.”

  “When was this?”

  “Not too long ago. A few weeks. But it was grapevine chatter that I didn’t take much stock in. But those two guys, they were always up for some mad shit.”

  “What can you tell me that they actually did?”

  “They hit a couple of dispensaries.”

  “They what?”

  “They robbed them. The cops never found out it was them, of course. They hit these places at night and left no trace. I saw in the news the cops described one as a military type hit. They said they thought professionals were responsible.”

  “Did they admit this to you?”

  Cliff nodded.

  “How do you know they weren’t lying?”

  “They took photos. That’s how cocky they were.”

  “And they showed them to you?”

  “Nate did. We were both drunk and I guess he wanted to tell someone.”

  I took a moment to consider this news.

  “Do you think they were part of the HardShell heist but were double crossed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  Cliff shifted around on the spot. He looked down at his feet.

  “Nate told me to change shifts.”

  “What?”

  “I was supposed to be driv
ing on that run, not Chip. But Nate told me to swap with Chip, and he was always eager to pick up some extra cash.”

  “I see. Did Chip take part in these robberies with Nate and Bo?”

  “I don’t think so. My understanding was that it was just Nate and Bo, but hell, you never know. It would have been a nice side hustle for Chip, working as their driver.”

  “Okay, let’s just say Nate and Bo were part of the heist but someone double crossed them. Who would that be? Who would be in on it with them?”

  Cliff paused.

  “I don’t want to say what I think.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if I do, I’m a dead man. I won’t just lose my job. I’ll lose my life.”

  I grabbed Cliff’s shoulder and turned him to face me. “Cliff, do you consider Chip to be your friend?”

  “Yes,” he nodded solemnly.

  “Well, he could go to prison for the rest of his life for something he didn’t do. Don’t you want to help him?”

  “Of course I do, man.”

  “Okay. Then who do you think Nate and Bo might have been working with?”

  Cliff looked over my shoulder and let out a heavy breath.

  “Look, all I know is that they were pretty tight with a couple of guys from Bravo Security.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And?”

  “And well if you think things are wild at HardShell, well, those Bravo dudes fly way faster and way looser.”

  “How so?”

  “They’ve got all sorts of shit going on, from what I hear. They even got cops in on it, using fake search warrants to seize drugs and cash.”

  “You’re shitting me?”

  “Nope. It’s out of control.”

  I was starting to think Wes Brenner had a point. Legal cannabis was giving some very dangerous men the license to run amok.

  “What about Quinn? Do you think he’d be involved?”

  “No, he hates those Bravo guys.”

  “Yeah, I know that. But take Bravo out of the picture for a minute. Could you imagine Quinn pulling off something like this?”

  Cliff shrugged his shoulders.

  “The only reason I’ could see him doing it would be to get the insurance. You know, double his money.”