Unleashed (Devil's Reach Book 3) Page 7

  “He, ah…” I cleared the emotion that clogged my throat. The last thing these boys needed was to see me break down. “He had to stay back and handle a few things for Uncle Trigger. But he sends me with hugs!”

  They didn’t say anything. I thought they knew the truth, but they didn’t show their fear. Instead, they told me they were hungry. Good, something I could actually do for them.

  “Nice to see you back, Tess.” Big Joe gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder as I whisked through the bar. “You all good?”

  “I feel like I need an I’m good sign,” I joked as I walked backward.

  “It would help.” He winked. “Happy, though.”

  “Thanks.”

  After I got the boys fed and had a much-needed shower, I pulled my laptop free and blew the dust off the top. The curser blinked at me as my head spun with a million different what-ifs. The big one was “what if Trigger doesn’t get released?” Could I really be me without him? I pushed that dark thought out of my head and clicked on the USB drive I had saved in my Drop Box.

  “Please work.” I clicked on the Skeleton Key file, and a million different numbers came up.

  0111

  0112

  0113

  “Shit.” I didn’t know what they meant. The others I had viewed earlier had been videos, but this was the only one that had only numbers.

  “What do you mean?” I muttered to myself as I started to copy and paste it into a Word document to show Morgan later. Then a box popped up for a password.

  I stopped and thought. Click by click I tried to recall what Jace had said.

  Green Bay

  Green Day

  Green Way

  Each time, it turned red, indicating I was incorrect. Shit. I closed my eyes and tried to recall what he’d said by using Savi’s technique.

  I’m there in the rain, Jace is a foot away from my face. His lips are moving, but I can’t hear him.

  Stop. Back up. What could I pull from that memory? The smell of rain, the wind battering my hair into knots, and Jace speaking.

  Come on!

  Jace’s lips are moving, but where’s the sound? Come on, dammit!

  Bend.

  That’s it!

  Green Bend!

  It took me two tries to type the words in the tiny box, but the moment I hit enter, everything came to a standstill.

  “Holy shit.” I slammed the laptop closed and raced out of my room.

  “Do you need anything, Tess?” Cooper called out from the pool table.

  “No, thanks!” I waved him off as I went down the hallway and stopped at the door at the end.

  I carefully knocked twice before I heard Morgan say, “What?”

  I pushed open the door and held up my laptop. “I found something.”

  At the excitement in my voice, his feet hit the floor with a thud. “What?”

  “The night Jace helped me escape, he talked to me about a file called Skeleton Key. I had seen it before, but it was just a series of numbers that didn’t seem to mean anything. But watch.” I opened my laptop and swiveled it in front of him. “When you try to view anything, this password protection box pops up. I thought it was just so no one could change the numbers, but when you type in the password he gave me,” I slowly typed the words Green Bend, “the whole screen flickered to video links.”

  “Videos of what?”

  I clicked on the third one down, and Morgan shifted to sit closer to me on the bed.

  “Well, I’ll be the devil’s bitch. Officer Doyle?”

  “Him and the city councilman’s seventeen-year-old daughter.”

  “Wow.” He rubbed his head and watched me exit the nasty video. He pointed to one that was highlighted in red. “What’s that one?”

  “The ace in our pocket, even without the rest.” I clicked on the link and waited for his reaction. Judge Rothweiler in bed with another man.

  “Fuck me, that’s…” He stood and paced the room. “Well, that explains why they were all after you. You hold the skeleton key to the whole fucking city’s secrets.” He shook his head and whispered more to himself. “How were you not killed?”

  “Because I had no clue! If Jace hadn’t told me about this, I wouldn’t have known. I think they saw that after a while. Plus, look,” I tapped another file, “I don’t know much about the law, but I would think a video of the prosecuting attorney visiting his nanny at home for a few hours a week between ten p.m. and one a.m. would help us out some. No?”

  “Holy fuck, Tess!” He blew out the breath he was holding. “This is huge.”

  He suddenly took both hands and clamped down on my shoulders, “Tess, we need to play this carefully.” He stood and quietly closed his door. “You want Trigger to get out, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you can’t mention a lick of this to anyone.”

  “I promise.”

  “You can’t just go in with this and demand their freedom. We will be squashed or killed before we could ever use it.”

  “Okay, so how?”

  “We use our assets.”

  “Which are?”

  “Your friends.”

  Okay…

  Morgan’s eyes flashed with something dark, but before I could ask what it was, he grabbed his phone and started to scroll through his contacts. “Shit, okay, let’s do this.” He pressed dial.

  ***

  We were in the corner of Bubba Gump’s restaurant. Morgan wanted a place to meet where we wouldn’t stand out. I failed to mention that Morgan alone stood out loudly most anywhere, but whatever. We needed to focus.

  “He’s late.” Morgan strangled the neck of his beer. “Is he normally late?”

  “I trust him, and most of all, Trigger trusts him, therefore you should.” My voice failed to match my words. Truth be told, I was scared shitless if this backfired. What if we poked the devil from behind a little too hard? And I didn’t mean just Allen. I meant all the shit we could unleash on the high and mighty of West LA.

  “Light post, by the door,” I quietly said to Morgan as I nodded with my chin at Mike, who had a phone to his ear. He was in jeans and an Under Armour shirt with a hat pulled down to hide his eyes. At first glance, he appeared to be like any other man, perhaps here to have dinner with his family, but he was really here to help us deliver the first blow.

  “Jesus Christ,” Mike rubbed his bottom lip, “the magnitude of information embedded on this flash drive is unbelievable.” He leaned back and covered his face with his hand.

  “I know this is a lot to ask, Mike, but I have no one else to turn to.” I glanced at Morgan before I took a seat across the table from him. I really needed to make my case here.

  “You protect the good from the bad, and this is what we’re doing here. Well, in a way, we are. Things are not only black and white, but black and white and gray. We’re dealing with high-placed political people, here, people who are well-respected in the community, but they are the ones in the wrong. I know there will be consequences.” I reached out and rested my hand on his arm. “We both know if Trigger committed those murders he would’ve owned up to it, but we know he didn’t do it. I know he doesn’t have the best track record, but he does not deserve to be in prison for life for murders he didn’t commit. Nor do Brick or Rail. Please, Mike, please help me get them back.”

  “It’s not safe, Tess. This is seriously dangerous shit.”

  I gave him a dark smirk. “Do I look like I play it safe?”

  He chuckled softly. “I think you need to meet Lexi.”

  “I’ve heard great things about her.” I grinned and knew he was in.

  “Okay, tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  The door to Bubba Gump’s opened, and in walked an overweight, badly dressed Judge Rothweiler.

  “Fuck me, I hate that man. He’s put me away twice.” A gleam in Morgan’s eye told me he was more than ready to do this. “Now, this is gonna’ be fun.”

  “Judge Rothweile
r.” I waved him over and kicked out a chair as a way of telling him to sit the fuck down.

  “I was told my wife was here.” He looked around, confused, then eyed Morgan. “Why do I know you?”

  “That’s not important right now.” I opened the laptop and pointed it toward the wall. “But this is.”

  The judged leaned around to get a better view. I wished we had recorded his expression. His neck turned bright red, the corners of his mouth dropped, and the veins in his neck bulged.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “I rather like this movie,” I muttered.

  “Agreed. Although that just looks painful,” Morgan grunted.

  The judge pounded his fist on the table, which made the silverware clink loudly. “Where the hell did you get this?”

  “Hush, Judge, you don’t want to draw attention to yourself right now. Do you want your wife and kids to see this?” Morgan sipped his beer. “How is Becky these days?”

  Judge Rothweiler jammed a finger in his face. “You even breathe a word about this to her, and I will make sure you are behind bars for the rest of your life.”

  “Empty promises,” he sighed.

  “What do you want?” The judge glared at me. “You’re a stupid little girl, thinking you can take me down. You are in for a major reality check—”

  “Am I?” I clicked on another link of him and his secretary, Greg. He slammed the laptop closed and took a deep breath. His skin had turned a pasty color. “We have a lot more on here, Judge, including the district attorney and her obsession with the chief of police.” I glanced at Morgan. “I’m sure the chief’s wife would love to know who was over for dinner while she was at cards with her girlfriends.”

  “Shit,” the Judge rubbed the sweat from above his lip. “If this gets unleashed to the media, it would bring total chaos to this city. I was supposed to be meeting my wife for an early dinner.” He seemed a million miles away.

  “And I just want my family back.”

  He shook his head as if to clear it. “Family?” He let out a belly laugh. “You mean those tattooed monsters.”

  I stood and leaned over the table so I was inches from his sweaty, fat face. “We’re all monsters inside, now, aren’t we, Judge?”

  “You can’t blackmail me. I don’t work that way!”

  Morgan chuckled, which turned into a cough. We knew the judge had done many favors for many people, so he was living yet another lie. I started to grow impatient.

  “Release the following three men, and I’ll shelve this. You don’t, and the messenger outside your wife’s office will hand deliver it to her for us. Your Greg is kind of handsome at that angle, don’t you think?” I enlarged the picture a little. “I think your wife might disagree, though.” I showed him a photo on my phone of Dell holding a package outside her office. “Your choice, Judge.”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Once that is done, we will move on to Greg’s wife and teenaged kids.”

  “You’d be ruining whole families,” he sputtered.

  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  “You are a monster!”

  I grinned proudly. “You have no idea.” I handed him a paper with the list of the guys’ names and the name of the prison. “You have until six o’clock tonight to release them.”

  “I can’t pull that off.” He opened the paperwork. “Oh, no way! No one would ever let that happen.”

  “No?” I questioned then turned to Morgan. “Jessica gets out of school soon, doesn’t she? That private school in Vegas?”

  “Yes, and she usually leaves by the east side gate.”

  “Okay!” He held out his arms to make us stop. “Okay! Don’t do anything to her. I’ll handle it.”

  “Wise choice.” I slid my laptop off the table. “Oh, Judge?” I waited for his pale face to turn to me. “This better be handled quietly.”

  Morgan and I walked out, leaving him to come to terms with the enormity of what we had on him. Mike gave me a nod to make sure I was okay, so I smiled and waved that everything was fine. He would stay and make sure the judge didn’t make any unnecessary calls.

  Morgan jumped in the driver’s seat and drum-rolled the steering wheel.

  “Whoo!” he shouted. “Fuck me, I wish Trigger was here to see you! Damn, girl, you are all kinds of badass!”

  “Thanks.” I swallowed hard, as I was just realizing the extent of the power we held. Badass or not, it was fucking scary as hell.

  “Chick or not, you should be patched in!”

  ***

  Allen

  Ring!

  Ring!

  Ring!

  “Who the hell is calling me?” I felt around my bed and under the sheets, until I couldn’t take it anymore and ripped the charger from the wall and finally felt the weight of the ringing contraption.

  “What?”

  “Mr. Vineyard,” his voice purred through the phone like a lion circling its prey, “is that any way to answer your phone?

  Shit.

  “Been a rough night, Mac. What can I do for you?” I flipped on the light above my bed.

  “We’ve been more than fair to you. Now it’s time for you to do the same.”

  I fingered the trigger of my gun and pointed it at the phone. He had worn thin with me lately.

  “Like I mentioned last month, I will, but I don’t have it yet.”

  “Tick tock, Mr. Vineyard.”

  Click, the call ended.

  “Tic tock boom, you fucker.”

  I tossed my phone into the wall and pulled the blankets over my head. As soon as my eyes closed, I slipped back into a memory.

  Allen: I told you to meet me at the club. Where are you?

  Clark: And I reminded you we had an agreement. We each had our own copy. If you lost yours, it’s not my problem.

  Allen: That’s bullshit.

  Clark: Perhaps, but I still have my copy.

  Allen: Do you know what I’m capable of?

  A few moments passed, and a recording popped up.

  Clark: Audio attachment. Press play to listen.

  “This is all an illusion. I actually am hunting for the perfect time to kill my son.”

  Clark: One can never be too careful. Don’t contact me again.

  Son of a bitch!

  Allen: This isn’t over!

  Clark: It just ended.

  I kicked the blankets off and felt my body temperature rise to an uncomfortable level. I spun the top of the bottle and downed a few cups of the amber. Clark was one shady asshole.

  Chapter Six

  Trigger

  “I wish we hadn’t taken kitchen duty.” Brick pushed his bowl of split pea soup away from him. “Now I know what’s in this shit.”

  “Leftovers.” Rail slurped back the last of his. He flicked a fly off his toast and chowed it down.

  I left mine untouched. I had some Power Bars at my bunk I would eat. They served garbage here, scraps of unwanted meat to make up a soup and then call it something normal. I eyed the floating brown lump in the center of my bowl. Last I checked, there wasn’t beef in that recipe.

  “Where are you going?” Brick stood when I did.

  “Work out,” I muttered at his question. I did the same thing three times a day. If I didn’t, I would be in the hole for multiple murders. I needed an outlet to calm the dark thoughts the wild things stirred up to test my sanity. They’d love nothing more than to see me switch and never come back. If things went south, there was a part of me that would want to give in. Everything was black and white on the other side, no room for gray. It was cold, unremorseful darkness that coated me like a thick glue. It filled every little crack and smoothed over reality, and it sharpened things and made it very clear what needed to be done.

  It wasn’t until my shoulders burned to the point of blinding pain that I sensed someone was approaching me. I hooked the bar back in place and swiveled up to a seated position. Sweat dripped down my spine and continued to soak
my waistband.

  The warden stood with the sun above him. He shifted to block the light from my eyes. He looked pissed, with a file tucked under his arm.

  “Nolan Vineyard.”

  I nodded once. He looked over at my guys.

  “Matthew Montgomery and Silas Hunter?”

  “Yes, sir,” Brick confirmed for both of them.

  The warden scratched his cheek, annoyed. “You have ten minutes to grab your bunk shit and meet me in my office.” He waved at three armed guards to escort us to our cells.

  I did what I was told, more out of curiosity than anything else. The entire yard stopped and watched as we were moved quickly from the general population to our corridor.

  “How the hell did you pull off this one?” the guard I befriended whispered under his breath.

  “Feel like sharing what you know?” I kept my head straight as we passed a series of cameras.

  “Just that you pissed off a lot of high-powered people.”

  “That so?” I wondered what the fuck Sam was up to now.

  “Someone came to visit the warden about you three.”

  “Who?

  “No clue, some fat guy with a red face and gray hair.”

  “Sounds like our judge.” Rail snickered.

  “Japson!” the guard up ahead snapped at the officer who was speaking to me. “Keep your fucking pie hole closed. They’re convicts, not friends at a bar.”

  I didn’t push for more information. Instead, I gathered my few belongings and waited for the guys to do the same.

  “You leaving?” Wes returned with another book stuck in the homemade pocket of his jumpsuit.

  “No clue,” was all I offered, and his face dropped. I took the pencil from his desk and scribbled down the bar’s address. “You’ll be out before long. Go there and ask for Morgan.”

  “Sure.” He nodded, but he wasn’t listening.

  “Wes.” I fought the urge to shut him out. I despised feelings. “You took a hit for one of my men. It’s a place to go when you’re out.”