Chapter 23
Shane’s face reddened, and the veins in his neck and forehead pulsed. His hands clenched into fists, and his eyes welled. Rage swelled like a tropical storm. "You found him in a fucking dumpster!?"
I nodded.
Shane paced around like a maniac, on the verge of erupting. He grumbled multiple obscenities.
"Do you know who did this?" I asked.
He glared at me. "No. How am I supposed to know who did this? That's your job. How about you start doing it?"
He was upset and lashing out.
I let it roll off. "I think it's time you come clean."
"Come clean about what?”
"The heist at the Vault.”
That caught his attention. "What heist?”
I scoffed. "Knock it off. You know damn good and well what I'm talking about."
"No, Tyson. I don't.”
"So, someone just randomly shot Wade twice and dumped him in the warehouse district for no reason? His wallet wasn't taken. His cash wasn't taken. His watch was still on his wrist. Somebody wanted him dead."
"You need to find out who that somebody is,” Shane demanded. “Just give me a name, and I'll take care of them."
"No, you won't. I'll handle this.”
"Great. We'll do it together. Just like old times."
"Who owned the vault?”
"I don't know who owned the vault. I don't know what you're talking about.”
"Look, I can't help you if I don't know what's going on.”
Shane's eyes filled, and the tears spilled over. He tried to contain his rage, still pacing back and forth, looking for something to break.
"How long do you think it's going to be before they catch up with you, or your sister?”
Shane grimaced.
“Your brother was beaten and tortured,” I continued. “No telling what they got out of him.”
He didn’t like what I was saying. "You’re way off base. I didn't steal anything from anyone.”
"Cut the shit. You had a man on the inside.
James. Garrett helped you pull it off. Wade hacked the system.
I don't know if it was you, Wade, or Garrett that shot James.
Even if you didn't pull the trigger, you're an accessory to murder.
If you didn't shoot James, your best option is to come clean now, turn state’s evidence, and I'll see to it that you get the best deal possible. "
Shane grit his teeth and glared at me. "I told you," he said in a low growl. "I didn't rob anyone. And I haven't killed anyone in a long time.”
We stared each other down for a long moment.
"If that's the way you're gonna play it, I’d pack your things, get Riley, and get out of town. Because whoever you stole from is a heavy hitter. And they’re pissed off.”
Shane said nothing. His eyes darted about as he contemplated the situation. “When did this happen?”
“Early this morning, between 2 and 4:00 AM.”
Shane moved to the window and peered outside. He mumbled to himself, “Shit.”
“What is it?” I asked, joining him.
“Nothing.”
I looked out. A black sedan with dark-tinted windows had pulled to the curb across the street.
Concern filled Shane’s face.
“Who is that?”
“Why don’t you go ask them?” he snarked.
I gave him a flat look. "If I search the house, what am I going to find?"
"You’re not going to find anything, because you’ve got no probable cause to search. Keep talking like that, and I'm going to ask you to leave."
We stared at each other for a moment. Then I nodded to JD, and we headed for the door. Before I stepped outside, I said, "Watch your back."
"Always."
JD and I stepped onto the porch, my hand on the grip of my pistol, still in its holster. Ready for anything, we marched down the walkway, passed through the gate, and continued across the street toward the sedan. I flashed my badge as I approached.
The driver put the car into gear and sped away.
I made note of the plate number.
Shane stared out the window, watching them go. His eyes found me before he stepped away from the window and pulled the blinds shut.
On my phone, I ran the plates. It came up registered to a holding company. I sent the plate number to Isabella and asked her to track it down.
We returned to the Porsche and climbed inside. JD and I sat there for a moment, keeping an eye on Wade's house.
"How do you want to play this?" JD asked.
I thought about it for a moment, then called Riley.
She answered after a few rings. "Hello?"
"It's Deputy Wild.”
"How did you get my number?”
"I have ways.”
"I'm sure you do. Listen, I'm on the other line with Shane. He just called. Can I call you back?”
"He hasn't told you yet, has he?”
"Told me what?”
"Where are you right now?"
"Is that any of your business?"
"This is important. Call me back after you talk to Shane."
I ended the call and slid the phone back into my pocket. I didn't want to be the one to break the news to her.
We sat there for another 15 minutes, surveilling the house.
Shane stepped outside and gave a cautious look around, then hurried down the walkway and climbed into a black Thundercat 440 with dark-tinted windows. The aggressive car was a modern take on classic American muscle. Shane fired up the V8 and pulled away from the curb.
Jack followed. "Where do you think he's off to?"
“Don't lose him."
The Thundercat squealed around the corner, blowing through the stop sign.
Jack stepped on the gas. We took the corner hard and fast and kept the Thundercat in sight.
"Don't get too close," I said.
JD looked at me like I was crazy. "He knows we’re following him.”
Shane took another left, then a quick right on Pelican Park. He stepped on the gas, and the exhaust rumbled.
The light had turned yellow.
Then red.
Shane blazed through it.
Horns honked from cross traffic.
I growled at Jack, "I told you not to lose him!"
"What am I supposed to do?” he said, motioning to the traffic ahead.
In the distance, Shane took another left and disappeared.
I grumbled.
“Just get Isabella to track him,” JD said.
“He doesn’t have a phone.”
Isabella called a moment later. "You ready for this?”