by Jessie Cooke
“Fuck,” Jace said. Dax didn’t flinch, but they both stood up and Finn followed them back through the shop and to the rolled-up doors. The two detectives, Williams and Rivers, were already out of their car and making their way toward the shop. The sheriffs both got out and stood next to theirs. Jace had gotten whatever emotion he was feeling out of his system, apparently, because his face was as neutral as Dax’s was as they faced the cops. Detective Williams smiled and said,
“Good, you’re both here. Where is Miss Golden? Is she around?”
“What do you want with Beck?” Jace asked.
“I have a search warrant for this shop, and an arrest warrant for Rebekah Golden.”
“What the fuck?” Jace said, losing his cool the second the detective brought Beck into it. “For what?”
“The execution of Regan O’Reilly.”
“Execution?” Finn said. Jace held his hand up at him, but Finn didn’t stop. “I told you what this man did to me, what he did to Caitlin and me both. He was a fucking monster.”
“That may well be true, but in this county we can’t tolerate vigilantism.”
“Are you fucking kidding?”
“Finn...”
“Vigilantism? Fuck that! Fuck you! I fucking killed him. I didn’t do it to get fucking even, I did it to save my own fucking life and I’ll stand up in court and show them my scars to prove it.”
“Finn!” Jace and Dax both said his name at the same time. It was too late, Finn couldn’t stop himself. He wasn’t going to let them arrest Beck for doing what amounted to squashing a bug.
“You shot Mr. O’Reilly?”
“Yes.”
“Finn!”
“Where did you shoot him?”
“In the head, right in the forehead, at close range. Beck had gone to get the bike so we could take Caitlin, who was bleeding out, to the hospital. She left me her gun, in case O’Reilly tried anything, or one of his men broke through. I shot him. I put him out of everyone’s misery.”
“Where is the gun?”
“I tossed it into one of the dumpsters at the hospital before I carried Caitlin inside.” He had no idea what Beck did with the gun, but if they hadn’t tossed it yet, he was sure Jace would.
“Well then, Mr. McGregor, I’d like for you to turn around and put your hands above your head so I can make sure you have no weapons on you.” Finn did what the detective asked. He could feel both Jace’s and Dax’s eyes boring into him. He kept thinking about Caitlin too...there was no way they’d survive as a couple his being convicted of murder. But he couldn’t let Beck go to prison for killing a man who would have never been in the States if not for him. O’Reilly was the devil. He was where he needed to be, six feet under, where he couldn’t hurt anyone else. Finn was grateful to Beck and if this detective had any sense, he would be too. The death toll had remained O’Reilly and four of his men. If he’d lived, Finn could guarantee them that much more blood would have been spilled across Phoenix. Dax had told him owning up was the most important thing, so that’s what he was going to do.
24
“What are you doing?” Beck whispered into the phone. Finn understood that Beck hadn’t ever been locked up, but he would have thought she knew they recorded all the calls. He was most especially sure they were recording the one with Beck on the other side of the glass. The detectives had cuffed him, read him his rights, and taken him in, booking him for the murder of Regan O’Reilly, two days before. Beck told him she put money on his books before visiting, so at least today he’d be able to call Caitlin. He wasn’t sure she’d even take his calls, but he was going to try.
“I’m taking responsibility for my actions,” he said, trying to convey to her, with his eyes, to be careful what she said.
“You didn’t murder O’Reilly.”
“I don’t think of it as murder,” he said, widening his eyes again and then looking at the phone cradle. “I think of it as self-defense. It’s the DA that’s calling it murder.”
“Finn...”
“Beck, I know that you all wanted to protect me, but I have to do this. I talked to our attorney yesterday and he says that they’ll not only go through hell proving I murdered him, but that a jury will definitely be swayed by the fact that he was planning on killing me, and the history of the torture. He took photos of my scars and he’s going to talk to Caitlin and see if she’ll testify about the kidnapping.”
“If? You don’t think she will?”
“I’m hopeful. If she refuses, he’ll compel her. But you know that doesn’t look good, that a witness has to be forced to testify. I don’t think she’ll make him subpoena her, though. It’s in her nature to tell the truth and do the right thing. Of course her family doesn’t want her with me and their influence might come into play.”
“Where does she live?”
“I’ll talk to her, Beck.”
“Fine, talk to her. Where does she live.”
“Beck, please. Let me deal with Caitlin.”
“I just want to talk to her. I can get her address off the booking sheet for the assault on O’Hare, since she was a witness to that.”
“They added those charges to this, thinking that it will help their case, I suppose.”
“Fuckers. O’Reilly was a piece of shit. He needed to be dead.”
“Beck.” She stopped talking and he thought she was done and suddenly she said:
“We still haven’t found Punk or O’Hare.”
“You think that was O’Reilly? Wasn’t O’Hare mixed up with Rowdy?”
“Aiden says that Rowdy swore up and down he didn’t know anything about where to find either of them.”
“I don’t know why O’Reilly would take them, neither of them. Didn’t Aiden say that he thought Rowdy was the one who told O’Reilly where I was and O’Hare was just some flunky that Rowdy thought he might be able to use to get to the club?”
“Yes.”
“I just doesn’t make sense then, what was the motive? I mean, we had more motive...oh fuck! Has my...has George left the country yet?”
Beck frowned. “You don’t think...that motherfucker! Surely he wouldn’t have done anything to Punk?”
“I hope not. Maybe he had nothing to do with it at all, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“I have to go, Finn. One of us will be back to see you, soon. By the way, Jace said to tell you to find Newell Jamison. He’ll ‘help’ you out in here, if you need it.”
“Okay, tell him thanks.”
“Have you had any problems?”
“No. Everyone’s been cool.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” She started to put the phone back in the cradle but put it back to her ear and said, “Finn?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks...for doing the right thing.” She rolled her eyes on the last part and Finn smiled.
“No problem.”
Jace dialed Granite’s number for the third time. He had checked with Aiden; Granite hadn’t made it to Dublin yet. Of course there was the possibility that Aiden had already doled out whatever justice he planned for Granite’s cheating with his wife, and Aiden just didn’t want to share that with them. It was doubtful, however. Aiden wasn’t the type to have qualms or regrets about anything he did, at least that’s the way it seemed to Jace.
Beck had come back from her visit with Finn with the idea that maybe Granite was the one who had made O’Hare and Punk disappear. There was no way he could have accomplished it by himself, though, so Jace doubted the theory. He felt like they had to check it out anyway. One of their brothers was missing and it was Jace’s responsibility to do everything he could to find him.
“Jace.” Granite’s voice on the other end of the line surprised Jace. He hadn’t answered the first two times and Jace hadn’t expected him to answer this time.
“G. Where are you?”
“I’m sorry, Jace. I’d rather not say. I only picked up this one last time to thank you for everything you’ve done for
me and my son. I hope that you won’t punish my son for the sins of his father.”
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“I was going to face Aiden...I swear. But then my survival instincts kicked in. Aiden may or may not be planning on killing me, but I’m positive that whatever he does have planned for me won’t be pleasant. So, I’m going to start a new life. I did leave some of the money in the accounts for Finn like I told him, but I had some of my own in offshore accounts that should last me for a while. Please tell my son I did love him, in my own twisted way.”
“You cowardly bastard!” That was Beck. “You’ve never been there for your son, I’m not sure why anyone would imagine that you would be now. Go die on an island somewhere--nobody cares. But first, tell me what you did with Punk.”
Granite actually chuckled. “Ah, Rebekah. I must say that in almost fifty years of life, as many characters as I’ve met, I’ve never met one like you.”
“Yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever. Where’s Punk?”
“I don’t know where your friend is, Beck.”
“Bullshit. You were the only one with any kind of motive. O’Hare knew about Finn and while you might not have even cared about that, there might have been a chance he’d find out about you too. I think you’ve proven to us all how much you do care about yourself.”
Granite laughed again, but his laugh sounded sad, and so did his voice when he said, “I suppose it wouldn’t do me any good to deny that to you. But here’s a thought: maybe I wasn’t the only one with a secret life.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just maybe if you really want to be thorough, you’ll check out your friend’s background. Maybe he’s running from his own demons. Jace, again, thank you for everything and when you talk to Dax, and Wolf, please tell them the same.” The line went dead, and in a huff, Beck grabbed the phone and dialed the number back. It didn’t even ring. Granite had been using a burner phone. He had more than likely tossed it. Not that anyone would be looking for him, Beck announced out loud along with a slew of epithets. When she finished Jace said:
“Don’t get upset with me, baby, please...but maybe there’s something to what he said. We didn’t even check to see if O’Hare had skipped town, and what do you really know about Punk?”
“He’s my friend. That’s all I need to know.”
“You served in the Navy together for what? A year, a year and a half. During that time, what did he tell you about himself?”
“He was from Illinois, right outside of Chicago...” She stopped and she looked even more pissed. Picking up the phone again, she punched in a bunch of numbers, hard. “Radar, it’s Beck.” She had the speaker on and Jace heard the poor guy say:
“Well, I’ll be damned! How are you, Beck?”
“I’m pissed. I need a favor, pronto!”
“Sure, haven’t heard from you in almost a year, but what the hell...”
“Oh, kiss my ass! How many times did I cover for you when you were too drunk or hung over for watch?”
He sighed, heavily. “What do you need?”
“Punk, remember him?”
“Uh...yeah, I never forget a deserter.”
“Excuse me?”
“You didn’t know? Ensign 3 Paul Pinkerton walked off his post just about twenty-hour hours after you discharged.”
“No fucking way! He didn’t show up here until six months ago. He told me he discharged, honorably.”
“He lied.”
“Fuck.” Jace cocked an eyebrow. Normally he would do a background check on anyone that wanted to be in his club, especially before he’d make them executives. Hunter was always willing to help out with things like that. But in Punk’s and Streak’s case, Beck had vouched for them both, so he hadn’t bothered. If Punk was AWOL, he’d been hiding out with them the entire time. Beck finished her call with Radar, practically hanging up on the poor guy like it was his fault. She glared at the office phone for several long seconds after putting it in its cradle and then she looked at Jace and said, “I’m sorry.”
She was sitting on the edge of the desk. Jace reached up and put his hand on her cheek. “You didn’t know, baby.”
“I wonder what spooked him?”
“We can have Hunter try to track him and O’Hare down and find out. I didn’t reach out to him before because we were assuming Rowdy or O’Reilly had them.” Hunter was part of the Southside Skulls, more of an honorary member than a patched-in brother. He was a bounty hunter and an investigator and Jace had known him for years. Dax and Wolf both put a lot of faith in him and that meant everything to Jace.
“Okay,” Beck said, sadly. Jace might not admit it aloud, but he had a feeling Beck would have rather heard he was killed because of his loyalty to the club than that he very likely just ran away. The fact that he was a deserter was also grating on her, Jace was sure. In their world, lying to your club could very likely put them all in a bad spot, even in danger. If he’d been honest with her, she would have never recommended him for a spot in the club, but Jace didn’t doubt that she would have done everything she could to help him. Now when she found him, he was going to get a taste of her wrath...and Jace knew from personal experience that Punk had messed with the wrong woman.
25
“Finn?” Finn knew from experience that the recorded voice on the other end had announced that Caitlin had a call from a correctional facility. He hesitated when he heard her voice. He’d been so afraid that she wouldn’t want to talk to him that he’d almost already accepted it as fact.
“Yes, love, it’s me.”
“Oh, thank God! Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“I’m fine, getting better every day. I can’t believe they arrested you. I’m so upset!”
“Did Beck talk to you already?”
“Beck? Who is that?”
“I guess you’ve never met her because trust me, you’d remember her,” he said with a laugh. “She’s my president’s old lady, and she might come see you. Please promise me you’ll remember that she means well. She’s protective of this club...and by proxy, me.”
“That’s a good thing,” Caitlin said. “But she wasn’t the one who told me you were in jail, it was your attorney. He said they’re not even sure about charging you, and the DA is talking about taking the case in front of the grand jury to seek an indictment. I don’t really understand all of that. If you haven’t been indicted, then why are you in jail?”
“He can hold me for up to ninety-six hours without a formal charge since the charge they’re considering is murder. If he decides to take it to the grand jury, they’ll have to let me go, so keep your fingers crossed. It’s good for more than one reason if they do it that way. I get out of here while I’m waiting, they have to do it within a week, and the only reason he’d take it to the grand jury instead of arraigning me in a regular court would be because they’re not sure they have enough evidence to get a conviction. I didn’t know all of this either; the attorney explained it to me. He said it’s an election year and the DA knows he’s on thin ice with no murder weapon and no witnesses. But he doesn’t want to not pursue it at all since one side or the other, during his campaign, will then say he’s soft on crime and not doing what he can to crack down on gangs. So this way, he has an out, no matter what the grand jury decides.”
“The attorney said you confessed?”
“I did, but I recanted it on advice of my counsel.”
“You can do that? Take it back?”
“Yes. I don’t have to incriminate myself. I don’t even have to testify in front of the grand jury.”
Caitlin sighed. “That’s good...I’m nervous, about testifying.”
“You don’t have to...”
“I know. He told me that. But why wouldn’t I? This man kidnapped me and someone who works for him tried to kill me. The detective came to see me the day I was discharged from the hospital and said they matched the bullet they took out of m
e with a gun one of O’Reilly’s men was using. That man is dead. He was killed in the shootout, which by the way was no different than you killing O’Reilly, yet they’re calling that self-defense.”
“Technically, it is different. O’Reilly was shot in the head at close range...after he was stabbed with that syringe full of opiates. They’re calling it an ‘execution.’”
“Well, they don’t know what they’re talking about,” she said.
“One mess after the other. When this is over, you probably won’t ever want to see me again, huh?” Finn asked.
“Finn, when I met you I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I went to that coffee shop to make Joy happy. But something happened between us that day, and kept happening. I think we’re in some kind of relationship here. Yes, it’s been a pretty messed-up one, but in the short time we’ve known each other, we’ve survived a lot together. If you’re interested in seeing what we can do together when we’re not in one mess after the other, so am I.”
“You’re amazing. But Caitlin, you have to understand that there’s a real possibility that I could be convicted of murder here...and have to go away for a long time.”
“I understand that, but I don’t believe it will happen. There’s no way that jury can see what this devil did to you and hear about what he did to us and me...and whoever else your attorney finds to testify...and blame you or anyone else for his being dead. He meant to kill you that day. It’s nothing less than self-defense and I can’t believe they’re even doing this.”
He sighed and smiled at the same time. “But...there is a chance.”
“Fine, I said I understood that. You know what your friend Dorothy whispered in my ear that day at the hospital?”
“Something about hope?” he said, smiling at the thought of Dorothy.
“Yep. She said that she was married for fifty-two years, and when things got tough in the relationship, it wasn’t their love that saved them, it was hope. She always hoped for a better future. I have hope, Finn. Please don’t lose yours. Now, tell me where the first place is you want to go when you get out of there?”
