“He said everyone is fine.” A sour expression crosses his face “Otherwise, you know Glassman. All business.”
Shit. He hasn’t complained much, but Heidi’s close to finishing up her last few college credits. Murphy’s been worried about the move downstate fucking with her grades. This arrest has only made him twitchier. People can say what they want about him, but he worries about his fiancée’s education more than he ever worried about his own.
I drop onto my cot and Murphy sits next to me. He leans in and, in a lower voice, adds, “Glassman said your attorney should be coming soon.”
“Thank fuck.” Although soon in here and soon on the outside means two different things.
“What, are you two gay?” Someone calls out.
Both of us glance up. I hadn’t realized the guard never left. He’s standing there watching us like a bored kid at the world’s worst zoo.
Murphy gives me a subtle elbow to the ribs and stands. “Only out of necessity.” He approaches the bars. “But you can’t, you know, say anything to anyone. Our club wouldn’t approve.” He finishes that last part in a low, dramatic voice as if the guard is now part of a big secret that might get us killed.
Inside, I’m choking with laughter but somehow manage to keep my face straight.
The guard lifts his chin at me and I shrug. “Everyone needs a little lovin’. But he’s right, it’s frowned upon.”
Still not sure if we’re serious or fucking with him, the guard scoffs at us and walks away. “Whatever, fags.”
Murphy watches him until he’s out of sight, then turns and grins at me.
“Asshole,” I mouth at him in case anyone’s listening. I motion him closer. Not that we’ll talk about much of substance. “What else he say?”
“They got nothing ‘cause I didn’t do anything.” He glances around, his gaze lingering on the camera bolted to the wall outside our cell.
Whether the camera is focused on us or can pick up sound is hard to tell from here. I haven’t been able to get a good look at it when I’m outside the cell either. My guess is they’ve planted a listening device on the other side of the wall our cots are shoved against, which is why most of our ‘important’ conversations happen here.
“They tried to press me on the arson again,” Murphy says. “Glassman’s got balls of steel. Told ‘em to charge me with it or let me out. Not sure I appreciated the dare.”
“Glassman knows what he’s doing.”
“That’s why I didn’t throat-punch his overpriced ass. These cocksuckers must have nothing.”
“Fucking assholes.” I cock my head and pretend I’m considering something. “They asked me about Shadow and I can’t figure out why. You think there’s any way he was involved? He was supposedly tapping a waitress there. Spent more time there than anyone else in the club ever did.”
Murphy studies me for a few seconds before answering. “Who the fuck knows. Way he up and took off with almost no notice, anything’s possible.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. He left me here with my dick in the wind. With no clue what damage he left behind.”
“You didn’t pick him, bro. Not your fault.”
No, but I still see his blood on my hands when I close my eyes.
Throwing a brother in the path of the cops isn’t how we usually operate. But Shadow’s a piece of shit who betrayed the brotherhood. For all I know, he played a part in burning down Malone’s. Probably should’ve questioned him more about that before I slit his throat.
Speaking of, if I can shift suspicion to him and convince the cops he skipped town, all the better for me.
“I need to talk to the guys and see if any of the other charters have heard from Shadow. He should’ve shown his face somewhere by now.”
“Better make it a casual inquiry. He gets wind they’re looking at us for the arson and he did do it, no one will ever find that bastard,” Murphy says.
“Bullshit, we should be able to—”
“Nope. Guys said he’s a motherfuckin’ ghost if he wants to be.”
I snort, as if I just can’t believe Shadow’s good at anything—which isn’t a stretch. All I need to do is send the cops searching in any other direction than mine for this fucking arson. But I can’t afford to seem too eager to give up a brother. These cops might be dumb, but they’re not that stupid. They’ll know something’s up if I start freely giving them information about Shadow.
“Frazier, you’re up,” a different guard calls out.
This one’s quiet and doesn’t try to insult me or engage me in conversation which suits me fine.
I’m led to a small, stark-white interview room. Smaller than the one the police used.
The guard secures me to the table leg, but frees my hands, which I appreciate.
I assume I’m finally meeting my attorney.
Of all the things I never expected in life, my best friend’s wife visiting me in jail is probably near the top of the list.
Hope smiles softly as she enters the room and rakes her gaze over me. Cataloging everything. Shit, I want to hug her.
I’m shocked Rock let her come see me and I suspect Wrath or someone equally terrifying from the club joined him in escorting her here. Otherwise, her visit makes perfect sense. Hope was a lawyer. She still works on cases with Charlotte from time to time and keeps her license current. She’s Lilly’s friend and in the best position to let me know how Lilly’s doing.
Or break it to me gently if Lilly took off.
“Since Glassman’s representing Murphy, we thought it would be better for you to have separate counsel,” Hope explains as she gestures to the suit who enters the room next.
Okay, so she’s not representing me, but I assume she trusts this guy to do a decent job. Hope’s picky about lawyers. Hates most of them, honestly.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Frazier,” the attorney says, holding out his hand. “Abraham Sanford, your friend Mr. North retained my services.”
“Thank you for coming down.”
“I’m right here in Union City so I can be here fast if anything comes up in your case. We want you out and home as soon as possible.”
My gaze slides to Hope. She smiles and gives me a subtle nod. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. How’s everyone?” Hope must have come for more than the lawyer introduction. Please let it be to give me a message about Lilly. I’m going crazy not being able to talk to her.
“I haven’t been home much.” Her gaze darts toward the closed door. “Rock and I are staying at a friend’s house nearby.”
That probably means my house. “I’m sorry you have to do that.”
“It’s fine. We’re helping out. The place is a little run down but, otherwise, lovely. Has a pool and everything.” She stares me dead in the eyes. “It’s given me a chance to reconnect with my inner mermaid and we’re having a good time.”
The lawyer slowly turns and stares at Hope, as if he’s checking for signs she’s in the middle of a stroke.
“Run down, huh?” I ask, ignoring the lawyer. I’m not liking that run-down part. Did she have to talk Lilly into staying?
Hope shrugs. “It’s weathered a storm, so it’s missing certain structural elements, but the foundation is strong and secure. Everything will be fine once the owners can provide a little TLC together.”
Thank fuck.
My takeaway—Hope’s staying at the house to help Lilly out and both Lilly and Chance are okay. Lilly misses me but she’s not going anywhere. I wish like fuck I could reach over and give Hope a damn hug.
Organized crime must be this lawyer’s specialty because he doesn’t ask questions about our bizarre conversation. Instead, he pulls out a folder and flips through some papers.
“I’ve conferred with Attorney Glassman,” he finally says. “Your friend, Mr. O’Callaghan, will probably be released soon.”
“Good.” I blow out a breath. “Sh
ould’ve never arrested him in the first place. They only took him in to be assholes.”
The lawyer nods. “Seems that way. Glassman threatened them with a subpoena for the dash cam footage since multiple witnesses mentioned one of the arresting officers, uh, Officer Banks, used excessive force.” He glances up and meets my stare. “Your friend Logan Randall stated that the property that was the location of the arrest has cameras around the perimeters and the entire arrest was captured on camera. That footage is in my office safe and two other copies are in secure locations.”
Knew Rooster was the right person for the VP job. Brother’s on top of shit. I suspect there are way more than three copies of that video in existence.
“That’s great. But I don’t want to get off on some police procedure technicality, Mr. Sanford. I didn’t have anything to do with the arson.”
“Z, we want you home any way we can get you,” Hope says.
“Ms. Kendall’s right. Also, at the moment, our main concern is having bail set for you and that tape helps me there as well.”
“Okay.”
The lawyer flips to a clean piece of paper. “How much can you afford to put up—”
Hope cuts him off before I even open my mouth. “Whatever it takes. He has friends and family who will cover whatever amount the judge sets.”
“Don’t use that as an excuse to settle, though,” I warn him.
“Of course not, Mr. Frazier. I’ll argue for a reasonable bail to be set, no matter the circumstances.”
Hope’s mouth quirks as if I’ve committed some client sin but she doesn’t say anything. While I would’ve loved to see Lilly, seeing Hope and hearing her semi-coded message is the next best thing. I have so many more questions for her, but Sanford’s here and I don’t trust the guy yet. Plus, even though they’re not supposed to listen in on attorney meetings, I don’t believe for a second someone’s not recording our conversation.
“It looks like they’re charging you for the arson of this Malone’s bowling alley. You know the place?”