Chapter 24
Simon
I was warned he’d retaliate, but after a few years of silence, I thought I was in the clear. Who was I to them, anyway? I was just a man trying to live a simple life. I had no reason and definitely no desire to be a part of their club, yet there I was in my own home with a dead body on my kitchen floor and the FBI with their guns pointed at me.
“Hands up, turn around, and walk backward to the sound of my voice,” the agent ordered, and I complied out of sheer fear.
I was read my rights and walked outside for all my neighbors to see. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was the quiet man who lived in the little house at the end of the lane. I took pride in my property, took pleasure when someone would stop and chat when I went out to mow the grass on a Sunday afternoon. I enjoyed my simple, quiet life. Now I would be the talk of the town, and I blushed at the thought. Then I saw him. He sat on his bike under my big shade tree at the side with an expression that burned itself into my memory.
“When do I get to call my lawyer?” I asked as I was handcuffed.
The agent turned me around and gave me a hard look of distaste. I thought for a moment he contemplated not answering me. “When I say so.”
“Understood,” I whispered and reassured myself that in a few days I’d be back home laughing it off with the neighbors about how big a mistake it all was. This just wasn’t me. I wasn’t a killer of some innocent person.
“You made your choice,” Allen called as the agent stopped to unlock his car. “See ya on the outside.”
“Get lost.” The FBI agent flicked his hand, and Allen turned over his bike’s engine, and I could hear his laugh as he sped down the street. I was suddenly left with a boatload of fear that I just might not be able to walk free from this.
“Duck.” The agent pushed my head down, and I awkwardly shimmied into the back seat. “Get comfortable because you got a long road ahead of you.” He slammed the door, and I swallowed down the panic that tore at my chest.
What the hell just happened?
After that, my memory blurred on the details. I remembered my lawyer warned me not to react and to sit quietly even when so-called eyewitnesses were called and lied about me. I had no family to support me, no friends appeared in the courtroom, the media didn’t care about my plea that I was being framed. I was just another criminal, a man who supposedly got into a fight with my “drug dealer” and killed him. I suddenly had zero control over my life, and it was going down the drain faster than I could take my next breath.
Allen thought of everything. I’d been served up on a silver platter for the FBI. Slam dunk.
“What did he say?”
I looked at my lawyer in disbelief as he tugged at his cheap tie and looked relieved rather than disappointed. “The judge, what did he say?” I repeated as I felt my soul leave my body.
“He said fifteen to twenty, but out in ten if you behave.” I blinked at him and tried to register the length of time that had just been robbed from my life.
“Stand.” The officer pulled me to my feet and yanked me away. When I turned to glance one more time at my lawyer, I saw him use a rag to dry his forehead and knew the truth. Fucking Allen was everywhere. I had ten years to retaliate.
“What a fucking nightmare.”Cameron burst through his office door and jolted me from my past. I quickly got my head on straight and stood up, rubbing my dry contacts. It had been a while since I’d let my head go back to such a dark place. “What do we know?”
“Not much.” I wished I had more to offer him, but the truth was the Gateses had the details of Leo’s death under lock and key. “Grim had the whole floor of their suites sealed down at the hotel even before the police arrived. Everyone who entered Leo’s room had to be vetted. No one else could get near the place.”
“Can’t Kurt pull some strings? Talk to the staff. Someone must know something.”
“He’s digging, but not much luck. No one’s saying anything. I’ve got a couple calls in to people to see what they know. I’m just waiting for some call backs.”
Truth was, I had Kurt building a package for Brick on the whole brother search thing once he told me he hadn’t been able to find out a thing on Leo’s murder. I had to give Brick something soon or he and Trigger would be after my hide.
“Damn!” Cameron tossed his phone on the desk. “Did you send Jim and Laurel the flowers?”
“Yes, the very next day,” I assured him. “I made sure they knew you were thinking of them and that you were trying to get a flight out asap.”
“Good.” He pulled his chair out and huffed as he sat.
I hesitated to share this next piece of news; he was already walking a fine line.
“By the way,” I took my glasses off and cleaned the lenses with the side of my shirt, “Mr. Griple called again.” I shifted my weight from foot to foot as I watched Cameron’s face fall. For years we’ve worked on keeping Griple out of prison, but his trial wasn’t going to wait. No matter how much money he and Cameron tossed at people, he still faced a life sentence for a hit back in Carson City. This was bad—really bad.
“Fuck,” he closed his eyes, “why of all people did that tattooed shithead have to kill my fall guy?”
“Martin Castillo had a lot of enemies, Cameron. If it wasn’t Grim, it would’ve been someone else. It was a matter of time. We all knew he’d be taken out at some point.”
“Are you siding with him now?” He peered over his reading glasses at me, his face red. “You know what it means if Griple goes to jail.”
“I know,” I didn’t need a reminder; it had been the elephant in the room since practically the day we met, “but avoiding his calls will mean he’ll send more sharks.” I paused. “Speaking of which, where the hell is Sasha?”
“Fuck if I know.” Cameron shrugged. “You ask Kenna?”
“No.” My mind went to how she’d looked when I saw her on her way to the rooftop bar.
“Calli’s back.” He shifted some papers around, and I knew he was pleased I was off the Griple topic. “She was looking for you this morning. Something about a case number.” He waved his hand at me. “Make sure you find out what she wants.”
“Of course.” I could use a good night of stress release.
“Oh, yes, I need you to get rid of that envelope I was sent. I want it out of here.” He leaned down and opened his desk drawer. “What the hell?” I moved close as I saw him freeze. He shuffled some things around. “I put it in here, but it’s gone.”
“You sure?” I moved around the desk.
“Yes, I’m sure it’s gone,” he snapped. “It was here, and now it isn’t.”
“Maybe you moved it?”
“I’m not senile, Simon. I know when I move something!” He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to think.” I knew what that meant, and I rushed to get out of there. As I passed by the trash on my way to the door, I noticed a cup of coffee sitting on the top. It had a bit of coffee dripping from the lid. Odd. I looked over my shoulder at Cameron, who still had his eyes closed, and gently touched the cup with my finger. It was full. I turned the cup around and saw Kenna’s name written on the side of it.
“Did Kenna come by to see you today?”
“No. Why are you still here?” He sounded annoyed.
Oh, shit.I charged toward the rooftop to find Kenna.