Birds of a Feather. Don Easton
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in concert with each other.”
“Everyone knows about Satans Wrath. Tell the judge to read a newspaper.”
“The prosecutor thinks I’ll be done by eleven.”
“You never know how long an interview will take. I’ll call you or leave a message as soon as I’ve talked to him.”
Jack gave his evidence and was off the stand by eleven. He had not heard back from CC yet and as he was the last witness, he decided to sit in the courtroom and listen to the summations by the Crown and the defence lawyers. The courtroom was almost empty, with the exception of a couple of wives and girlfriends. The defence lawyers knew it wouldn’t help their cause to show their solidarity by having it packed full of bikers.
The only club member who did show up to watch was dressed in a suit and tie and looked like the wealthy businessman he was. Damien was the national president of the club and he and Jack knew each other well. Too well, in both their opinions.
The judge was about to render a decision when Connie stuck her head inside the courtroom and motioned for Jack to come out into the hallway.
“You got time to talk?” she asked.
“Yes, we’re about done here. I think the judge has to get back to Disneyland.”
“Where’s your sidekick?”
“I’m flying solo these days. Laura’s on holidays. Gone for three weeks. So how did it go with Porter?”
“I talked to him. To start with, he is paranoid as hell. Something has him scared. I had to hold my badge up to the camera at the front door before he let me in. He even locked the door once I was inside.”
“What about Lily Rae?”
“No sign of her. I asked when he had last seen her and he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. It was more like he wanted to know whatever I knew. Things like, ‘What makes you think I would know where she is?’ or, ‘If something happened to her, I had nothing to do with it.’”
“The bastard.”
“He’s really insolent … kind of got my goat. I tell ya, he’s one guy I’d feel almost justified in smacking around. In the end, he said he dumped her over a week ago and didn’t know where she was.”
“Maybe he did and she got embarrassed or something and ran away. Marcie said she had run away before.”
“Not a chance. That son of a bitch has done something to her.”
“You absolutely certain?” asked Jack.
“One hundred percent. You should have seen his face. A kid in kindergarten could have seen he was lying. I think we should get our ducks in a row. Maybe check his phone records and talk to his neighbours. Find out if anyone heard any fights or anything and then bring him in and really question him. If he doesn’t lawyer up, I bet I could get him to crack within an hour.”
“How did you leave it with him?”
“I remained noncommittal because I wanted to talk to you first. I didn’t want to freak him out any worse than he is and get him to thinking he should call a lawyer. I gave him my card and told him to give me a call if he heard from her or remembered something.”
“I doubt you’ll get much in the way of phone records. If he and his buddy Clive Slater are dealing coke, they’ll be changing cellphones faster than you change your panties. I think you —”
Jack stopped talking as Damien exited the courtroom and walked over to them.
“Good day, Corporal Taggart,” said Damien with a smile. “Hope you have a pleasant afternoon. I know I will,” he added, before walking away.
“What was that all about?” asked Connie.
“He was letting me know the judge didn’t accept my evidence.”
“What? You’re kidding! Everyone knows Satans Wrath’s history of murder and dope dealing. How could a judge even consider the idea that they’re not in it as a criminal venture?”
Jack shrugged and said, “Your guess is probably about as good as mine. Maybe the new law wasn’t worded to the judge’s liking. Or it could be one of a number of other things. The judge could be scared, obtuse, bought off, or has a utopian belief that any potential violation of civil rights outweighs the need to protect society as a whole. Take your pick.”
“You don’t seem all that upset,” noted Connie.
Jack shrugged and said, “I’ve lost all faith in the justice system. Nothing surprises me anymore.”
Connie studied Jack for a moment. Of course you don’t believe in the justice system. Explains why you completely ignore it a lot of the time. You prefer to send people directly to the morgue …
“Now, back to Porter,” continued Jack. “Do your thing first. Get your ducks in a row and bring him in for proper questioning.”
“Sounds good. Hopefully he doesn’t lawyer up.”
Jack’s face remained impassive, hiding what he was thinking. For his sake, he better hope he talks to you. Otherwise I’ll get him to talk my way …
chapter seven
In El Paso, the sun had barely cracked the eastern horizon Monday morning when Adams went to the hospital. Becky was at her husband’s bedside when he arrived, but when she saw Adams, she quickly got up and met him at the door.
“Becky, I’m so sorry,” said Adams. “How’s he doing?”
“Awful, but he wants to talk to you. He spent most of yesterday under sedation, but when he was awake, he kept asking for you.”
“The doctors said to let him get some rest and give him time to settle down before debriefing him.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’m just glad we got him back.”
“What is there to say?” she replied bitterly. “Except that it’s over. We’re done with this shit,” she added defiantly. “I can’t take it anymore. As soon as he’s out of here he’s putting in his papers to resign … and don’t you try to talk him out of it,” she added, vehemently.
“I won’t,” replied Adams softly. “I don’t blame him. I expected he would quit. Anybody would.”
Becky studied his face, wondering if he was telling the truth and said, “I’ll wait out here, but keep it short. He can barely hold it together enough to say more than a sentence or two without breaking down.”
Adams nodded and walked into the room. Patton propped himself up on the bed. His eyes were watery and one was bruised and swollen, leaving only a slit to peer out of.
“How ya doin’, partner?” asked Adams. “Hanging in there? I’d have brought you a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, but the stores aren’t open yet. Figured it would be better than whatever prescription shit they’re feedin’ ya in here.”
“I’m not good, John,” admitted Patton. “I’m … I’m finished. I’m quitting. It’s my idea as much as Becky’s.”
“I know, she told me,” replied Adams, sitting down. “Don’t blame you a bit. Yesterday Yolanda and I talked about it, too … and we don’t have any kids.”
Talk between Adams and Yolanda of quitting was a lie, but it was a lie Adams felt his partner needed to hear. The truth was that Adams was too enraged to quit. He wanted to get even. He wanted justice.
“There’s something else. I, I really screwed up,” Patton said, covering his face with his hands to try and stifle a sob.
“You didn’t screw up. We’re always working alone over there. They set you up and wanted you to follow the Mercedes.