Chapter 14 #2
“I plan to make the asshole sorry he dared to cross me,” James sneered. “All I want is his name. He’ll never know how I found out, because unlike you, Dave, and Stewie, I’m not a goddamned gossip.” His statement ended with a menacing tone.
Uncertainty filled Miguel’s eyes, quickly followed by fear.
“And since you all are a bunch of fucking gossips, I know you know who ordered the hit. So don’t for one fucking minute believe I’m going to walk out of here without a name.”
Miguel’s breath started to come in quick pants.
“And let’s be clear,” James added. “If I find out you gave me the wrong name, I will be back to make you pay for your lack of cooperation.”
Miguel looked like he was about to shit his pants. “Dave said it was Gerry Knox.”
It wasn’t a surprise, but it still sent a chill down my back.
James gave a slight nod. “Why does Gerry Knox want me dead?”
Miguel vigorously shook his head. “I dunno.”
“And what is good old Gerry up to these days?”
“I don’t know shit,” he said, panicking. “I only know what I heard about the hit, and now you know too.”
“You expect me to believe you or your dad never worked for Knox or his daddy when he was runnin’ things back in the day?”
“You never said nothing about Gerry’s daddy,” Miguel grumbled.
“Read between the lines, Mig,” James said. “You’re very familiar with the Knox family.”
“Rutherford Knox, sure,” he said, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face. “But that was before I went legit. His son had moved onto Birch by the time I got out of prison.”
James gave another nod. “Who told Dave and Stewie about the hit?”
“I don’t know,” Miguel said in a rush, “but you could talk to Dave. He’ll tell you.”
James gave him a dubious look. “So I’m gonna roll up to Birch Autobody, and Dave’s gonna tell me more about Knox?”
Miguel looked like he was about to be sick. “I guess.”
“And when I leave here, you’re just gonna go back to work and pretend this never happened?”
“Yeah,” Miguel said, shaking his head vigorously. “I swear.”
James made a face. “Why wouldn’t you call your buddies, Dave and Stewie, and let them know I’m on my way to pay ’em a visit?”
“We’re not that close,” Miguel said, a panicky look filling his eyes.
“But close enough for them to fill you in on the hot gossip. At your weekly poker game.”
Miguel swallowed again.
“Maybe you could give him a call now,” James said in a deceptively calm tone, motioning to the phone on his desk. “And put it on speaker.”
Miguel started shaking again.
“What’s got you worried, Miguel?” James asked.
“I don’t wanna get Dave or Stewie in trouble either.”
“No one has to know we got anything from ’em,” James said. “That’s the beauty of you makin’ this call. Your friend will be none the wiser, and Knox’ll never know where I got the information.”
Miguel’s gaze landed on the phone. “What am I supposed to say? It’s gonna be weird as fuck if I call one of ’em up and ask about the hit on you.”
James shrugged. “Then I guess you better think of something creative, so you don’t look weird as fuck.”
Miguel seemed to consider it for a moment, then patted his jeans pocket. “I need my cell phone. That’s where I have the shop’s number.”
James slipped his gun out of his holster and trained it on him. “Go ahead.”
Miguel kept his eyes on the gun as he stood slightly and tugged out his cell phone. He sat back down and tapped on his phone to wake it up and open his contacts.
“Let me see the contact’s name before you place the call,” James said in a demanding tone.
Miguel pulled up the contact, then turned the shaky phone to show Birch Autobody in the screen.
“Set it on the desk and place the call, puttin’ it on speaker,” James said.
“But if you tip off whoever you talk to that I’m standin’ here listening, our cooperative agreement will be null and void and I won’t hesitate to touch you.
” He leaned closer and lowered his voice.
“And you’ll wish all you had was a busted nose. ”
Miguel gave a slight nod, then pressed the send button. The phone rang several times before a man answered. “Birch Autobody.”
“Dave?” Miguel said, his voice quivering slightly. “It’s Miguel.”
“What’s up? You needin’ a part?”
“No… I was telling my guys about the hit on Malcolm.”
“What the fuck, Mig?” Dave snapped. “I told you that was confidential information.”
“It just slipped out,” Miguel said, shooting James a glare. “One of ’em was tellin’ me how much he hates Skeeter Malcolm, and I told him he might not have to worry about him for much longer.”
“You still shouldn’t be spreadin’ it around,” Dave said, calming down a little. “Razor’ll take my head off if he finds out I told you.”
I tried not to show a reaction to his mention of Razor. Maybe the criminal world was smaller than I’d thought. But now we had a direct link to Knox.
“They don’t even know I got the info from you,” Miguel said. “You and I both know there’s not a lot of love for Malcolm out there.”
“That’s the truth,” Dave groused.
“But as much as a bunch of us want the bastard dead,” Miguel continued, “I’m wondering why Knox has a hit on him. Last I heard, Malcolm was layin’ low. Doesn’t he have a bar down south?”
“Word is Malcolm insulted his mother.”
James grabbed a paper and pen off the desk, then scratched, How does Razor know?
Miguel glared at the paper, then asked, “How’d Razor hear that?”
“What does it matter?” Dave shot back.
Miguel glanced up at James, then dropped his gaze. “Just want to make sure it’s accurate. Don’t want to get our hopes up over nothin’.”
“Razor did some jobs for Knox and heard it from one of his guys.”
James wrote Name?
Miguel looked like he wanted to murder James himself. “What guy?”
“What the fuck, Miguel?” Dave demanded. “Why’re you askin’ so many questions?”
“Because everyone was sure the bastard was gone when he was locked up in federal prison several years ago, but he slunk out like a cockroach out of the shadows. I want to know that you have a reliable source.”
“He’s one of Knox’s drivers.”
James tapped the word Name?
Miguel swallowed again. “Was it Tate?”
“Tate? I don’t know Tate. Razor said it was Nixon.
Nixon called to hire him as reinforcement with a delivery for Knox, and while he was on the line, Nixon told him to be on the lookout for the asshole, and if he sees him, shoot first and ask questions later.
” Dave released a low chuckle. “That is, if one of Knox’s guys doesn’t get to Malcolm first.”
Miguel’s finger hovered over the end call button. He gave James a questioning look.
James wrote who took the job?
Miguel shook his head, but James stabbed the sentence with this index finger.
“Knox hired it out?” he said. “Who took the job?”
“How the fuck would I know?” Dave spat out. “What’s up with all the questions?”
“I just want to make sure I’m out of the line of fire,” Miguel said.
“That shouldn’t be a problem since Malcolm’s down in southern Arkansas.”
Miguel glanced up at James, who slowly shook his head in warning.
“Yeah,” Miguel said. “He’s down south, but if he comes up here, I hope Nixon offs him and gets a bonus.” Then he ended the call.
James stared down at Miguel. “Who’s Tate?”
“I don’t know,” Miguel said. “I made it up.”
“So why didn’t Dave call you on it?”
“Dunno.”
“Bullshit. What do you know about Knox’s deliveries?”
“I’m tellin’ you I don’t know shit about nothin’. Not since I came back and went legit.”
A vein in James’s forehead began to throb and he said through clenched teeth, “This is uncooperative, Miguel.”
“I don’t know!” Miguel shouted, his eyes wide. “I swear to God! Rumor has it that Knox is movin’ girls, but I swear I don’t know shit about anything.”
And there was Knox’s link to trafficking. But if this had been hush-hush before, and James had trouble getting any information last year, why did someone like Miguel know about it now?
James lowered his gun and patted Miguel on the cheek with a hard smack. “Good job. Sorry you won’t get your wish to see me dead.”
“The day’s young, Malcolm,” Miguel spat out with a defiant glare.
James cocked a brow and gave him a hard stare. “Am I gonna have to watch my back on my way out, Mig? Should I eliminate any threat from you now, so I don’t have to give you a second thought?”
Miguel’s face paled. “My guys saw you walk in. If you kill me, they’ll know it was you.”
“But will they tell the cops it was me?” James asked in a dull tone. “Or will they claim they don’t know anything?”
Miguel swallowed.
“That’s what I thought.” James reached for the doorknob behind him, still keeping his eye on the man at the desk. “I have no beef with you, Mig. Let’s keep it that way.”
Miguel gave a sharp nod of agreement, but he didn’t look happy about it.
James opened the door and backed into the hall, keeping his eye on Miguel. I got up and did the same.
“Have a nice day, Miguel,” I said cheerfully as I rounded the corner, not waiting for a response.
We headed to the waiting room and then outside. Once we were in the car, James started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Frowning, he said, “I’m waitin’ on your critique of my interrogation methods.”
I turned to him in surprise. “Are you expecting me to blast you for your threats? You don’t have a badge. Miguel needed an incentive to talk. You threatened him, but you didn’t hurt him. He bought your bluff.”
“Nothin’ I said was a bluff, Harper,” he said in a dark tone. “I would have followed through on any of it.”
I took a moment to let that sink in, trying to determine how I felt about it.
I didn’t believe in torture, and as far as I was concerned, harming someone during an interview or interrogation was torture.
Not to mention it was unreliable. Still, I knew James was capable of getting results, which meant I needed to let him do as he saw fit.
Then again, I hadn’t witnessed him hurt anyone other than the man who had killed my sister nearly twenty years ago.
Yes, he’d killed men since we’d met, and if I believed in vigilante justice, they had all deserved it.
I suppose I’d become an accessory.
But I was already a perpetrator of several murders, and even though I’d shot those men in self-defense, I doubted law enforcement would see it that way. Especially if they learned who my companion had been. To be honest, when I was a detective, I probably wouldn’t have let myself off either.
I held his gaze. “As long as you don’t hurt any innocents, for now, I’ll follow your lead.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Okay.”
“You expected a lecture?”
He made a face. “I expected you to set a line you refuse to cross.”
“It sounds like we just got confirmation Knox is selling and abusing human beings, and from where I’m sitting, we’re the only ones trying to stop him.” I paused. “But if I get recognized—or you for that matter—we’ll have to make some decisions.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up, and an amused glint filled his eyes. “Like which non-extradition country we’re movin’ to?”
“Know anyone who makes fake passports real enough to get us out of the country?” I teased.
“Got it covered,” he said.
My grin fell. “Wait. I was kidding.”
“I’m not.”
I considered what he’d said. Would I really run, if it came down to it? Or would I turn myself in?
What did it say about me that I leaned toward running?