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No one said a word, and I’d have paid good money to be able to read Fred’s mind right then, but one thing I’d learned about this man in such a small time was that when he was ready, he’d tell me.
The police station was rather large and in very good condition. There were district stations, but Westford had a main hub and judging by the size, it was obvious this was the mother of them all.
“I’m meeting a Detective Walters, correct, Aiden?”
“Yes, sir.”
Since we’d all met in the foyer, Aiden had turned from a casual, opinionated man, back into a cold, professional soldier. I wasn’t sure I liked it very much, and I could see that it bothered Fred.
This was one of his main issues. Fred didn’t want to be the boss of a mafia family because he wasn’t built that way. In a perfect world he and Aiden would be best friends who bickered. The fact that Aiden continuously stepped out of line and forced Fred to pull rank didn’t sit right with my Little Red.
“He won’t let any of you in with me, and I won’t push the issue.”
“Your attorney has been called, sir,” Aiden said from the passenger seat. Zion had forgone the spot in order to make this outing as smooth as possible.
“I’m not sure that was needed, but thank you.”
Aiden nodded and exited the vehicle. Zion got my door, and Thomas got Fred’s.
When we all entered the police station, it did not go unnoticed. We were nicely dressed—there were six of us not counting the two outside guarding the SUVs.
“Can I help you?” the officer at the desk asked Fred as she eyed each of us.
“Good morning, I’m Frederick Brennan. Detective Walters is expecting me.”
She motioned to all of us standing behind him. “And them?”
Fred chuckled. “They’ll be staying out here; they’re for my protection. Private security. All unarmed, I assure you, but you are welcome to check.”
That was one thing that bothered all of us—that we had to be unarmed. Our weapons were in the vehicles. Thomas and Beau had weapons on them outside, however.
“I’ll ask them to have a seat, and I’ll let Detective Walters know you’re here.”
“I appreciate that. My attorney is on the way as well, but he might arrive late. Lance Friedman.”
“Oh.” Aiden stepped forward. “Lance wasn’t available. Barry Germaine is coming in his place.”
Fred’s brow furrowed briefly as he faced Aiden. “I don’t know who that is.” He then faced the officer. “Never mind. It’ll just be me, it seems.”
“Ok, please, if you’ll all sit.”
Once we took our seats, Fred looked at Aiden. “Call whoever Barry is, and tell him his services aren’t needed.”
“Sir, you need representation.”
“Not for this, and not by someone I’m not familiar with. Make the call, Aiden, and the next time you decide to bring a stranger into the mix like that, tell me before we’re in the thick of it.”
Fred turned his head in the other direction, anger and hurt evident in his expression.
“Yes, sir.” Aiden gritted his teeth and stepped outside, likely to make the call.
I wanted to comfort Fred, pull him into my arms and tell him he was being such a good boy and that I’d reward him later. But I was sure if I did so, he’d bite my head clean off. I almost laughed at the ridiculous thought that I’d probably enjoy that coming from him.
“Frederick Brennan?” A man likely in his midforties, sandy blond hair, green eyes, and a surprisingly warm expression stepped toward us.
“Yes?” Fred stood.
“I’m Detective Walters. If you’ll come with me?”
