“You mean because he was such a fine, upstanding citizen himself?” Macen couldn’t resist. “If you discount the fact that he raped and murdered his wife and one of his own daughters…”
“Hammer…” Barnes warned.
“No worries, Sterling. I thought I had a pretty open view of sexuality, but these two? Wow. Buying juicy virgins for the purpose of forced sex and breeding? And I’m the pervert here? Their fantasies are way more twisted than mine.” Hammer leveled a flat stare at the two officers. “I guess working in Vice has given you some ideas over the years. What other non-consensual shit do you get your rocks off with, boys?”
Ignoring his volley, Winslow scowled. “Did you arrange for Bill Kendall to kidnap his own daughter so that Ms. Kendall could kill him in ‘self-defense’ and you wouldn’t have to pay her father whatever else you owed him?”
Hammer couldn’t help but blink at the absurdity of the question. “Dig out your own police reports, gentlemen. One of your peers labeled him a sexual predator and killer. I wouldn’t have put a flea in his path.”
“How much money did you still owe him?” Cameron pressed.
“Hammer,” Sterling cautioned.
Seething, Macen breathed through his anger to keep his shit together. This fucking game was pissing him off. “I’m worth eight figures, gentlemen. If I paid him anything, I assure you two thousand dollars a month would hardly motivate me to plot such a ridiculously convoluted murder.”
“Are those all the questions you have?” Sterling interceded.
“Just one more thing.” Winslow smirked. “Mr. Hammerman might want to consider getting off his high horse, because we have an eyewitness who has corroborated that not only did Raine Kendall work at your club, but she spent nearly every night in your bed since you bought her as a minor.”
Witness? Who the fuck could that lying sack be? Everyone who joined Shadows signed tight legal documents that ensured nothing happening inside the club’s walls made its way to outsiders.
“In fact, the witness said you bragged about it and saw Ms. Kendall act as your domestic slave, cleaning up after you. Cooking for you.” Winslow sneered. “You like apple spice muffins, don’t you? We hear you controlled her bank account, too, so she couldn’t leave you.”
“Don’t respond to that,” Barnes snapped.
Macen couldn’t—without the truth being twisted to make him look guilty as hell. Only those who had spent time with him knew he liked apple spice muffins and that Raine made them for him. That he controlled her bank accounts because he’d never wanted her to worry about money again.
Who could the damn Judas be?
Winslow went on. “According to our witness, you also arranged for Ms. Kendall to have a public beating at your establishment, followed by a sodomizing—all while you watched.”
Hammer knew exactly which night the detective referred to. Only a member of Shadows could know about it. Someone had talked—and misrepresented everything about his relationship with Raine to suit their own purpose.
His heart raced, sputtered. He racked his brain to remember who had been there for that debacle. Who hated him enough to unleash this sort of vendetta?
He was in far deeper shit than he’d imagined.
Christ. This could not be happening. But even his body knew it was as his lungs froze, his mouth went dry, and his heart all but beat out of his chest.
The life he’d waited years to enjoy was slipping through his fingers. Liam would be left to care for Raine alone. And what about their child? Would he ever know the baby they’d conceived in love?
Damn it, he wasn’t going down without a fight. “I suggest you bring in your witness and get your facts straight, because someone is feeding you a metric ton of bullshit.”
“Trust me, Mr. Hammerman, our witness has an impeccable reputation,” Winslow assured.
“Let’s end this charade. Everyone in this room knows you’re guilty. We’ve got the proof right here in black and white,” Cameron growled, scattering the copies of the money orders all over the table. “Give us a statement. Plead guilty. Maybe the DA will reduce the charges he plans to file against you and you’ll only go away for five to ten years. If you want to keep pretending you’re a model citizen, I guarantee a jury will lock you up and throw away the key.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Hammer growled. “You can take your evidence and shove it up your ass. If you’re going to arrest me, then fucking do it. Otherwise, I’m done here.”
“Easy,” Sterling murmured.
Hammer was beyond that. If he didn’t get out of this claustrophobic sweat box in the next ten seconds, he was going to come completely unhinged.
“Aside from yourself, who else had sexual relations with Ms. Kendall when she was a minor?” Winslow continued. A look of renewed vigor lightened his face. “That will count as a charge of prostitution, but we’ll let you share that sentence with the other schmucks if you’ll give us names.”