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“Not yet.”
“Are you going to say anything but various versions of ‘not yet’?”
“How about this? When I’m ready, I will. Be at the station at nine.”
“One,” I say.
“Ten,” he counters.
“Two,” I say.
“You really are a fucking prick.”
“I am,” I say. “Which is why you’d prefer me with sleep and a good attitude.”
He laughs. “Noon.”
“Compromise,” I say. “I’ll take it.”
“Now you owe me one,” he says, hanging up, and I have one thought backed up by a gut feeling that never fails me. This is a setup of some sort. I have a target on my chest and if Lori is by my side, she does, too. I won’t let that happen which means I have decisions to make and things to do, now, before lift-off.
Chapter thirty-four
Cole
At some point during the call with Detective Waller, I’ve unhooked my seatbelt and I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, my elbow on my knees, a wide expanse in front of me compliments of the private plane. I’m aware of Lori watching me, waiting for me to tell her about the call with the detective. Hell, I’m always aware of everything with this woman. She’s climbed inside me, pushed past every vow I’ve ever made to remain unattached, and latched on. Of course, she then proceeded to leave me, blue-balled and obsessed, with no way to find her, but that’s past history, and I intend to keep it that way. For now, though, I don’t look at her. I don’t encourage her questions, and won’t, until I’ve made a few wise decisions about how to best protect the both of us.
I punch in the auto dial for the investigator Reese hooked me up with last year when I was handling Tara’s father’s case. Royce Walker, of Walker Security, answers on the second ring. “Cole Brooks,” he says. “Why did I know I’d be hearing from you?”
“Because you’ve obviously seen the news.”
“I have,” he says. “Are you offering legal counsel to Tara like you did Jerome?”
“Her father doesn’t automatically earn her my counsel, but I’ll get her through the initial interviews, and we’ll go from there. I’m on a plane waiting for take-off now.”
“Obviously you need me. How?”
“After talking to the lead detective on this case, I’m of the opinion there’s more going on here than meets the eye.”
“Payback for taking down a few of his own?”
“Exactly. The detective on the case—Josh Waller is the name—I need to know his story, and I need to know if there’s anything I can use to rein him the fuck in.”
“You think he’s dirty?” Royce asks.
“If he’s protecting ‘his own’ and that means the dirty cops we ousted, then hell yes, but I’m not going to assume he knows the real story. I need to know what side of the coin he falls on.”
“I’ll check him out and look for movement in law enforcement as it relates to Jerome and Tara Knight as well.” Considering his ex-FBI background, and his team of experts that range from ex-CIA, to law enforcement, to special ops, that statement goes a long way toward ensuring I get the answers I need.
“Where are you staying?” he asks.
“Not a fucking clue,” I say, “but I’ll be there about six in the morning. I meet with the detective at noon.”
“Got it. I’ll call you before that meeting.” Royce disconnects, and I stick my phone on the armrest.
“What just happened?” Lori asks, setting her computer aside and unbuckling her seatbelt to scoot to the edge of her seat, right beside me.
I glance over at her. “My gut tells me I’m headed into trouble.”
