Freddy coughed and leaned forward to extend a hand. “Fredrick Spazzoli from out of town. I, uh, collect Western art and was hoping to acquire a couple of the, you know, the amazing pieces here tonight.”
They shook hands, and Freddy winced.
Quinn cut his eyes to Juliet. “Juliet?”
She took a deep breath. “His name is Fredrick Spazzoli, he’s my stepbrother, and the last thing he wants to collect is art.”
Surprise flashed across Freddy’s face, while no expression marred Quinn’s. He focused back on Freddy. “And?”
Juliet clasped her hands together, drawing dignity around herself like a wool coat. “He’s a criminal who has never been caught. I don’t know why he’s in town, but since there seems to be DEA activity, my guess is Freddy’s up to his old tricks of moving drugs.”
Freddy flushed a deep red. “I’d watch yourself, JJ.”
Disbelief rippled through her so quickly she swayed. “Did you really think I’d lie to him? For you?” The man had never understood her.
“Why not? You’ve been lying to him since you got here.” Freddy snorted snot up his nose.
“Not for you,” she muttered.
Quinn squared his stance. “What exactly are Freddy’s old tricks?”
“They run the gamut from illegal betting, extortion, petty theft, grand theft, and most recently, drug running.” She was dropping her own coffin into the ground, but it was too late to turn back now. “My mother married into the Spazzoli crime family. They were small time…nothing like the mob people you see on television. But, they were into crime.”
Wounded outrage pursed Freddy’s lips. “I think that’s slander, little sister. I mean, since you have absolutely no proof, and your Cuddles here can’t arrest me just on your say-so.” He edged closer and stopped when Quinn’s shoulders went back. “Besides, if there was a family crime enterprise, you’re in the family, now aren’t you?”
Quinn turned his focus to her.
She swallowed. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Quinn. We moved drugs.”
…
Quinn paced his office, confusion and anger mingling inside him until he wanted to hit something. Juliet was a criminal along with her weak and slimy stepbrother? How was that possible? “I want in on the interviews.”
Reese sat in a guest chair, his legs extended, and his new cowboy boots crossed at the ankles on Quinn’s desk. “I figured.” He read from his phone. “The DEA has suspected Freddy Spazzoli of running drugs since the death of his father a few years ago, but so far, we haven’t nailed him.”
“Why not?” Quinn dropped into his chair, a thousand pounds weighing him down.
“Anyone able to testify against the guy ends up dead,” Reese said,
“The guy seems like a moron to me.” No way had the scared dork killed people.
Reese cracked his knuckles. “He is a moron. We’re fairly certain he’s being directed by somebody, but we haven’t nailed down who it might be.”
“No wonder Juliet escaped.” Of course, her statement that she’d run drugs made it entirely possible she’d created a new life to escape the law.
Amusement lit Reese’s normally serious gaze. “Speaking of your love, how long are you going to let her stew in the cell?”
“At least she’s safe in the cell.” Quinn had arrested both Juliet and Freddy the second Juliet had dropped her bombshell, hustling them out the back door and to the station. “Until I arrest her for running drugs. Or until you do.” This still wasn’t possible—there had to be a logical explanation.
Reese’s phone beeped, and he read a message. “There’s no record whatsoever on Juliet Spazzoli. Her mother married Dominique Spazzoli when Juliet was ten and changed Juliet’s last name at that time.”
Quinn frowned. “Spazzoli didn’t adopt her?”
“No. Just the name change. Dom Spazzoli owned several illegal betting operations but didn’t run drugs. For a criminal, he was one of the decent guys. I mean, sure, he killed once in a while, but he didn’t sell drugs to kids.”
“Unlike Freddy.” And maybe Juliet.
Reese’s brow furrowed. “We don’t have any proof against Freddy. Even if Juliet provides proof, according to her own statement, she’s a coconspirator. We can’t arrest Freddy just on her word.”
Quinn shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m not using Juliet’s statement against her until I talk to her officially.” The woman had clammed up the second he’d arrested her, regally lifting her chin. She was the most graceful prisoner he’d ever cuffed and escorted into a jail cell.
Reese shrugged. “We’re talking federal law here. Her statement doesn’t hurt her any more than it hurts Freddy…unless we get corroborating evidence against one of them. Considering she just confessed, I’d bet my shiny new boots she has some evidence we could use against both of them.” He leaned forward. “How well do you really know this woman?”
“Apparently not well at all.” Quinn was 100 percent in love with a woman he didn’t know. How crazy was that? Love or not, if she’d been involved with the drug trade, she wasn’t who he thought. “I wish we could tie Freddy to the murders. Then he’d give up his partner or boss or whoever the guy is.”
“The operation is believed to span several states. We’re talking federal trafficking here,” Reese said.
Dread slammed into Quinn’s gut. Juliet would to go jail for life if she’d been involved in the drug trade. “There has to be some mistake.”
“There’s no mistake,” Reese said slowly. “I definitely want Freddy and his partner on the trafficking and murders. Maybe we could talk to the federal prosecutor about some sort of deal with Juliet—if she has proof that hurts Freddy, or if she knows who Freddy is working with and is willing to testify.”
Hope commingled with fury inside Quinn, but he kept his face impassive. “I’m sure that will be an option—once we find out the entire truth. So far, I’m not believing Juliet willingly trafficked drugs.” He couldn’t be that horrible a judge of character, could he?
“Are you thinking with your head or your dick?” Reese asked.
That the question was valid pissed off Quinn more than he would’ve believed possible. “Don’t make me shoot you.”
Reese lifted a shoulder. “The DEA has waited long enough, and now I’m going to interview my suspect. You in or out?”
Quinn clenched his hands. “I’ll get her.” He stomped from the room, taking deep breaths to maintain control. It’d been years since he felt on edge like this, and he needed to hold it together. The long hallway stretched forever until he reached the first cell. Still wearing her sexy black dress with the sparkly silver shoes, Juliet looked like a captured princess in the dismal cell.
A feminine and fragile princess.
Keys jangled against the old lock as he released the bars. “Come on, Juliet.”
Her pale face whitened further, but she rose gracefully from the single cot. “Where?”
“Interrogation.” Every instinct he owned wanted to reach out and gather her close for a hug. “The DEA wants to interview you about your statement to me.”
She nodded, regally lifting her head and gliding past him into the hallway. “Your friend, Reese?”
“Yes.” Quinn relocked the door. He’d put Freddy in a cell at the far end of the cell block and had every intention of leaving him there until Reese wanted to talk to him.
She stopped. “Quinn, I—”
“Save your statement for the DEA. I don’t want to hear it.” Quinn motioned her ahead of him, his gut clenching at how her hands trembled. Didn’t she know he’d have to testify about anything she said to him?
“Of course,” she said formally. “I apologize.”
For the first time in eight years, he hated the fact that he was the sheriff.
Chapter Fifteen
Juliet shifted on the cold metal chair in the interrogation room. Chilly and intimidating, the room was small with unadorned, dingy, white walls. “I understand my rights as you’ve read them to me.”
Reese nodded from across the scarred wooden table. “All right. Let’s get started.”
Quinn leaned against the far corner, his massive arms crossed. “No. Not yet.”
Reese raised an eyebrow. “Sheriff Lodge, if you’re going to be difficult, I’ll ask you to leave.”
Fire lanced through Quinn’s gaze. In the loosened white shirt and black suit, he looked like a panther ready to strike.
Panic lanced Juliet’s chest. Two old friends might fight because of her. “I’m ready to get started, and I’ll answer anything you ask.”
“No, you won’t,” Quinn ground out.
“Why not?” Reese asked, irritation curling his upper lip.
The door slid open. “I assume it’s because my client is waiting for her lawyer.” Smooth as silk, Jake Lodge stepped into the room. He’d donned a slate-gray Armani suit and carried a hand-stitched leather briefcase. “Would you gentlemen please excuse us so my client and I can confer?”
Reese slowly turned his head to glare at Quinn. “You called your brother?”
Quinn headed for the door. “She has a right to a lawyer. I figured, why not get the best?” He disappeared into the hallway.
Reese stood and rounded on Jake. “You have ten minutes.”
Jake smiled. “I’ll take as long as I want, Agent Johnson. Now get out.” He slid into Reese’s vacated spot.
“Fine. I’ll go talk to Freddy now.” Reese swore under his breath as he left the room. The door slammed shut.
Jake’s face gentled. “How you holding up?”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes. “Not so well. Quinn is mad at me.”
“Ah, yes. But we need to be concerned with the drug charges right now, Juliet,” Jake said.
“He’s really angry with me.” Who cared about drugs? She wanted Quinn to look at her like he did yesterday.
Jake coughed into his hand. “I need you to focus here.”
“Of course.” Relying on years of experience, she drew dignity close. “What do you want to know?”
Jake lifted one dark eyebrow in an expression Quinn often wore. “Everything.”
Juliet took a deep breath. “All right, but I’m only telling the story once. Please ask Quinn to come back.”
“Sheriff Lodge will be subpoenaed to testify as to anything you say. Let’s bring him into this conversation after I figure out our best move,” Jake said, gently.
Juliet straightened. “I’m going to tell him everything, anyway. You’re my lawyer, and you have to follow my wishes.”
“Your wishes are going to land you in federal prison.” Jake rubbed his scruffy jaw. Apparently he hadn’t had time to shave when changing clothes. “It’s well after midnight, you’re tired, and you might not be thinking clearly. Trust me on this. You don’t want Quinn in here quite yet.”
“I can’t do this twice, and he deserves to hear the full truth.” He’d given her his trust, and she owed him. So she had to tell the full truth and not hide behind the law.
Jake shook his head. “You’re acting against the advice of your lawyer.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Jake stood and ripped open the door. “Quinn?”
Quinn appeared immediately. “What?”
“She wants to include you in this meeting.” Still shaking his head, Jake retook his seat.
Quinn frowned. “That’s crazy.”
“I know, but she only wants to tell the story once.” Jake grabbed a legal pad from his briefcase to slide onto the table.
Juliet looked at Quinn. “Do your job and listen to my story, Quinn.”
His jaw tightened until it had to hurt. “You’re putting me in a terrible position.”
She sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”
Anger blazed in his eyes, but he retook his position in the far corner. Of course, he’d followed duty. She’d counted on his sense of honor.
“I lied to you, and I’m sorry.” Clearing her throat, she focused her gaze on her hands. “When I turned ten, my mother married Dominique Spazzoli. He was a criminal. Mainly illegal betting operations, but probably some blackmail and extortion. He took me in, gave me a home, and I loved him.” She swallowed and glanced at Quinn’s expressionless face. “I know he was a criminal, but he was good to me.” Not even to get out of a federal drug charge would she say anything bad about Dom. He was the closest thing she had to a father, and he’d loved her, too.
“Did you partake in any illegal activity growing up?” Quinn asked.
Jake jerked his head toward Quinn. “You’re invited to listen and not ask questions, Sheriff.”
“Bullshit.” Quinn’s arms uncrossed. “I’m here, and I’m partaking. Deal with it, counselor.”
Wonderful. Now the brothers were going to come to blows. Juliet cleared her throat again. “No. Dom kept me as far away from the criminal activities as possible. He didn’t deal with drugs. Freddy entered the drug trade when Dom died.”
“You entered with him?” Quinn asked.
“Of course not.” A shiver racked her.
“It’s too cold in here.” Quinn yanked off his suit jacket and dropped the heavy material over her shoulders.
Instant warmth and the scent of male surrounded her. Something inside her stomach softened. “Not on purpose. The Children’s Art Clinic of New Jersey hired me to teach a couple of classes a week to kids. I had so much fun teaching those kids how to sculpt.” Her hands trembled, so she clasped them together. “The CAC is a nonprofit that exposes underprivileged kids to the arts. The job didn’t pay much, but I loved it.”
Jake tapped his silver pen on the pad. “The CAC was a drug front?”
“Not at all. Freddy put the drugs in my trunk, I drove from New York to Jersey, and somebody would take the drugs out while I taught classes.”
Quinn dropped into the one vacant chair by his brother. “Did you know?”
“No.” She allowed her own stupidity to reflect in her voice. “For six months, I ran drugs, and I had no clue.”
Quinn shook his head. “The kind of danger you must’ve been in…”
She nodded. “I’m a moron. How could anybody have no clue they were trafficking drugs across state lines for six months? But really, how often to you look in your trunk if you’re not storing stuff?”
Quinn stared at his brother. “If she had no idea, if she had no intent to traffic, there’s no crime, right?”
Jake slowly nodded.
Juliet shook her head. “Seriously? I’m Dom Spazzoli’s stepdaughter and Freddy Spazzoli’s stepsister. No way would a federal prosecutor or jury believe I was unaware of the drug transfer. Period.”
“She has a point,” Jake said.
“Besides”—she picked at a sequin on her dress, wanting to get it all out there—“I didn’t call the cops once I found out. I called Freddy and yelled at him. He had me look at a building across the street that had a camera pointed right at me. I was on camera for six months. Freddy believes in insurance policies.”
“Did the cameras ever catch you looking in the trunk?” Jake asked, scribbling on his notepad.
“Not until the day I discovered what was going on,” she said quietly. Crap, she really needed to tell the whole story. “So, I got out of town. I mean, I acquired false identification and got out of town.”
Jake held up a hand. “I believe what my client means is a friend of hers supplied her with false identification. She neither purchased it, nor has she used it since.”
Juliet frowned. “No, I—”
“Good enough,” Quinn growled. “We can revisit the false-identification issue later. For now, I
want you to tell me everything you learned about Freddy’s drug business.”
The door opened, and Reese pushed a rickety cart holding an older television on top of a DVD player. “Freddy was very cooperative and supplied me with a video that is quite intriguing.” He plugged in the electronics and grabbed a rusty remote.
Jake slammed his pen down. “We’re in the middle of something.”
Reese flashed a dangerous smile. “I understand what you’re doing. However, why don’t we watch this video? Afterward, I’ll leave so you can confer with your client on how she wants to plead this out.”
Ice-cold fingers traced Juliet’s spine. This was so not going to be good. Her shoulders straightened, and she flashed Quinn an apologetic grimace. “Push play, Agent Johnson.”
Reese engaged the television and player before starting the video. Several minutes went by that showed several wrapped white packages put into her trunk in front of her apartment in New York and then taken out of her trunk in New Jersey. The men involved were Freddy’s lackeys, but not once did Freddy make an appearance.
Quinn wandered to lean against the far wall.
Jake stretched his neck. “First, there’s no proof those are drugs. Second, not once has Juliet been on screen with the trunk open. You’ve got nothing, Agent.”
Reese pressed a button. “Let’s fast-forward to the end, shall we?”
Juliet briefly closed her eyes. “Good idea.”
The tape scrolled forward until it showed the events of the day that changed her life forever. The camera captured her leaving the art clinic just in time to see a man slam her trunk closed. She stilled, and he ran away. A frown marring her face, she’d hustled forward and opened the trunk.
Cash. Tons of wrapped and stacked cash lined her entire trunk.
The interrogation room went deadly still.
Even with the grainy camera, there was no question that a lot of money sat in her trunk.
She’d whipped out her cell phone and called Freddy, who’d laughed his head off when explaining the cameras. She’d turned to look directly at the camera while still on the phone. Slowly, she’d ended the call, torn her cell phone apart, and left the shattered pieces on the pavement. After slamming the trunk shut, she’d gotten in the car and driven off.
Montana Mavericks: a hot cowboy collection Page 30