Fierce Defender: Book 2, Hard to Handle trilogy

by Kane, Janine

  “I think it’s more than that. You know these guys that you’re defending are bad dudes, right?”

  “Everyone deserves a defense. I’m doing my job, and you have no right to tell me how I should do it. If I weren’t defending these guys, the next person in line in the courtroom would be.” As usual, she looked vexed. Why did she always look that way when he was around? “Besides, just because bad ass agents such as yourself arrest them, that doesn’t mean they’re automatically guilty. This is America, you know.”

  Gray sighed as he poured his cup of coffee. It had been exasperating trying to talk to her. He found himself wishing that she was at least ugly. It was hard sometimes to look at someone so attractive and keep the heat in his argument. But she was right; he had no right to tell her how to do her job. He had never tried to do it with any other attorney. He didn’t know why she was different. He didn’t even like her, looks aside.

  That said, he knew he was right about the gut feeling he had about her connection to these guys. But for now, he needed to shake it off and get back to work.

  Stella awaited him. He was taking his Harley on a long ride today, and he was sure she was going to love it. He walked out into the garage and flipped on the light switch. She gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and he could swear she looked happy to see him. He pulled on his black leather gloves and put on his helmet. Her headlight seemed to be watching him as he walked over towards her and slid onto the smooth leather of her seat. He felt that thrill that he always got when Stella was between his legs, and as he fired her up and listened to her purr, he told himself that his last girlfriend had been wrong. There was nothing abnormal about his relationship with his bike.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Accused

  San Antonio, Texas

  Courthouse

  Tuesday Morning

  Danielle felt sick to her stomach as she sat in the courtroom today. She wished it was the venti caramel latte with the extra shot she’d had this morning that had done it. She knew though that it was a combination of two other things. The first one was seeing Grayson at her door last night. The man was incorrigible! Who did he think he was coming to her home? He acted almost as entitled as her next problem. Well, maybe not that bad, she thought as she watched the other “problem” being led into the room by the correctional officers.

  Most definitely not that bad, she reassessed. At least Grayson was one of the good guys, for the most part, and nice to look at. Ayden was neither. She had been “assigned” to him when he’d been brought in by the DEA on drug trafficking charges, but she knew he had requested her. He always did. The DA had strenuously argued against bail being set, due to his history of violence and the known fact that he was a general in the Aryan Brotherhood. Danielle had really done her best to argue for the bail, although she didn’t want him set free any more than anyone else did. He wasn’t too pissed at her when they lost. He could control his empire from inside just as well as he could outside.

  His trial was supposed to begin yesterday, but the DA had requested a one day postponement, which was granted. She was prepared to begin the trial today, but then she received a phone call this morning that changed everything. That’s when her stomach began to turn.

  Last night, she had held out hopes that no matter how well she presented his case, they would lose, and he would go to prison. But after receiving that phone call, she was instead presenting a motion to the judge to have the charges against him dropped completely.

  A large amount of cocaine that had been held in evidence was now missing, and so was a very important witness in the case. Danielle was going to argue that, without the evidence or the witness, they had no case. The part about it that made her so sick was that she was sure Ayden’s crew had a hand in both.

  He sat down next to her at the defense table in the courtroom and smiled. “How’s things, Dani?” he said casually, like they were old friends.

  “Well, thank you,” she answered. She pretended to be engrossed in the file in front of her, hoping that he wouldn’t continue to make conversation. It was to no avail.

  His next words were what kept her doing this.

  “I haven’t seen the boy in a while. How’s he doing?”

  Danielle looked at the minimal excuse for a man sitting next to her and wanted to punch him in the face. He probably knew better than she did how Justin was doing, since her brother was serving a sentence in Dominguez right now that Ayden should be serving himself. The only thing that kept her sane with Justin behind bars was knowing that Ayden paid those animals he controlled in there to watch out for him—as long as she kept doing what she did. It made her sick to be in any kind of cahoots with this man. She had sold him her half of the business her father left her, and she prayed every day that once Justin was home safe, she could cut all ties. He was on the last nine months of his sentence. Almost there…

  “He’s fine, Ayden,” she said. “Let’s talk about the motion today, okay?” He grinned at her. God this man disgusted her to her very core.

  “Not much to talk about. It seems our illustrious District Attorney lost some evidence… and a witness, right? I don’t think there’s much for me to worry about other than what I’m gonna have first when I get home tonight: a steak or a beer.”

  Thankfully, the judge called the court to order. It was perfect timing. She hated when Ayden tried to make small talk with her. He was so familiar with her; he had even told her once that since he’d practically raised her brother, they were like family. He was one family member Danielle couldn’t wait to leave behind, but she shook off those thoughts and tried to concentrate on what the judge was saying.

  “Miss Thurston, I’ve read your motion to the court. Mr. Lane,” he said, addressing the Assistant District Attorney, “you have a copy as well. I see that the defendant is in the court, and I’m ready to hear arguments on this matter. Miss Thurston.”

  Danielle stood. “Thank you, Your Honor. As I stated in my motion, the District Attorney’s office seems to have misplaced two bricks of cocaine with a street value of thirty-six to fifty thousand dollars. I have also been told that the star witness for the prosecution, a man who allegedly saw my client purchase said cocaine for resale, is missing. I feel without these two key pieces of evidence, the District Attorney’s office should drop all charges against my client. Thank you.” She smoothed her skirt and sat down. She didn’t look at Ayden, but she could see him grinning at her out of the corner of her eye.

  “Your Honor,” the prosecutor began, “our investigators are looking into the disappearance of the cocaine. We’ve even called in the local authorities and the DEA. It was stored here in the courthouse evidence vault so that it would be available for trial this week. As of yesterday morning, it was accounted for. As for the witness, Your Honor, we are looking at the possibility that he was coerced into leaving, or that something may have happened to him.”

  “You’re looking into it, Mr. Lane?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. There are a lot of attorneys who, along with the bailiffs and the clerks, have access to that vault for a variety of reasons. We are gathering a list of anyone who may have accessed it yesterday, and who actually had a need to access it. We’re also reviewing the surveillance video. As far as the witness, his wife says that he left in her car two days ago, on Sunday. We have a BOLO out on the car and the witness.”

  “But for today, sir, you have nothing?”

  “That’s right, Your Honor,” the ADA said.

  “Then you give me no choice but to grant Miss Thurston’s request and drop the charges against her client.”

  “But Your Honor…” ADA Lane tried. Danielle actually felt sorry for the guy. His boss was going to fry his ass.

  “No buts, Mr. Lane. Do you have any other compelling evidence to present?”

  “I have a DEA agent that was working the case who will testify.”

  The judge briefly read over the files in front of him. “I see that. An Agent Dillon. Anything else?�
��

  “No, sir.”

  “Then I have no choice.” The judge looked about as happy as the ADA regarding the decision he was being forced to make. “You know you can’t present a case without evidence, Mr. Lane, and one DEA agent does not evidence make. Mr. Styles?”

  Ayden stood up, along with Danielle, and the judge said, “The charges of drug trafficking brought against you by the State of Texas are hereby dropped, and you are released without prejudice. Stay out of trouble.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Danielle and Ayden both spoke at the same time.

  “Buy you a drink, counselor?” Ayden asked her.

  Not in this lifetime. “No, thank you. I’m still working. Ayden… stay out of trouble.”

  “Always, Dani. Always.”

  Danielle packed her things into her briefcase, trying not to let her disappointment show. In a way, she was glad she was being spared having to sit through a trial with Ayden. But she also realized the huge injustice that had just occurred. Ayden deserved to be behind bars. Just as she decided the worst part of the day was over, the ADA approached her, and the rest of her day rapidly went to hell.

  ***

  Samuel Dillon waited in one of the conference rooms with the director, who had yet to leave his side. Ayden Styles had been Sam’s collar, and he had been subpoenaed to testify this week. They had sat in that stuffy room most of Monday, just to be told the trial had been postponed until Tuesday. Now they sat and waited again.

  On Monday, Sam had to go outside every so often to smoke. The director went with him the first time, but after that, he told Sam, “Smoke out here by the window so I can see you.”

  Sam knew that he didn’t have a right, but he was still pissed about being treated like a child. “Can I stop and take a piss on my way?” he had asked him.

  The director gave him a look that both acknowledged the question and warned him off the sarcasm in his tone. He allowed him his bathroom break.

  Tuesday, Sam had automatically parked himself underneath the tree outside the window. It was nice there, anyways. At least he wasn’t behind bars. That knowledge was sweeter than anything he could smoke.

  ******

  Brownsville, Texas

  Tuesday, 9:00 A.M.

  Gray parked Stella outside of a bar in Brownsville. His escort for the trip, a three hundred pound guy named Mick, parked his hog next to him. While Gray had been in lock-up, he had told Ayden that he was tired of being a Nomad. He wanted to be part of a group. Ayden told him he had something new in the works. He was sending a guy out to Brownsville on Tuesday, and if Caleb really wanted to prove himself, he could go along. That, and the fact they were meeting with “a bunch of Mexicans,” was as much information as Ayden would give him. He told him his boy Mick would contact him with the details. Gray had gotten a call from Mick on Monday night, and they arranged to meet the next morning.

  Mick was even less forthcoming with information than Ayden had been. Gray had no idea why they were meeting with the Mexicans, but he knew it wasn’t good. As they entered the bar, Gray instantly put his guard up. It was so small and creepy, it couldn’t even call itself a dive. Gray wasn’t a fan of confined spaces, and with a capacity of twenty that now held thirty plus Mick, it was hard to breathe. When you coupled that with being the only two white faces, and with swastika tattoos to boot, Gray had to hope this wasn’t going to be the last place on Earth he remembered when he reached the pearly gates.

  Mick sauntered in like he owned the place and bellied up to the bar. It was too crowded for Gray to step up, so he hung back slightly, making sure he didn’t put his back to the crowd.

  Mick looked at the bartender and said, “Pablo Lopez?”

  The bartender pointed at a sheltered booth in the back of the room, which given the size of the bar, wasn’t that far away. Mick started towards it, and Gray followed. The thin wooden divider meant they couldn’t see who was sitting in the booth until they got there, but when they reached the table, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. At least, not for this place. A young man in the center, probably Pablo, was accompanied by three other men. They all wore white T-shirts, jeans, and dark blue bandanas. The guy on Pablo’s right had a tattoo on his neck that read: Enrique. Gray hoped that was his name, and not the name of his last cellie.

  “Pablo Lopez?” Mick said again.

  The man in the center stood up and asked, “Ayden?”

  “I’m Mick, and this here’s Caleb. Ayden sent us.”

  The man made a head gesture, and two of his partners took off. “Sit,” he said to them in perfect English. “What are you drinking?”

  “Beer will do,” Mick said, presumably speaking for the both of them.

  Pablo looked at the other young man and said, “Enrique, get the beer.”

  Enrique didn’t look happy, but he got up and went towards the bar.

  “What do you have for me?” Mick demanded.

  “No, that’s not how we do this,” Pablo said.

  “Then how the hell do we do it?” Mick wasn’t pleased. Gray didn’t say anything, but he was concerned Mick’s bad manners might get him into a jam.

  “First, why am I meeting with one of Ayden’s boys? Where is the man himself?”

  “He’s indisposed at the moment,” Mick said. Gray was impressed at the versatility of Mick’s vocabulary. “Besides, I know you ain’t the boss of this operation. Why ain’t he here?”

  Pablo laughed. “Good question. My boss is… indisposed as well. But he said that I can trust Ayden. I’m not so sure you were included in that deal.”

  “Then fuck you,” Mick spat. There was that verbal versatility once again. As he stood up, his belly threatened to take the table with him. Gray steadied it, standing up as well.

  The other guy, Enrique, returned with the beers. When he saw them standing, he looked at Pablo and said, “Estamos bien aqui?”

  “Si, Enrique. We’re fine. Sit back down, my friends, please. I didn’t mean to offend.” Pablo patted his hands down on the table.

  Gray waited to see what Mick did. He sat, so Gray did as well. “Now, can we cut through the shit and get down to business?” Mick insisted.

  “Yes,” Pablo said, “no more shit.” He took an amber-colored vial out of his pocket and set it in front of Mick. “A sample, gratis.”

  Mick opened the vial and placed some of the white powder inside on his fingernail. He rubbed it on the mucous membranes inside his mouth and then handed it to Gray, who did the same.

  “It’s good?” Pablo asked.

  “Yeah,” Mick confirmed. “It’ll do. Where’s the rest of it?”

  Pablo laughed. “I have what Ayden ordered, and do you have what my boss needs in return?”

  Mick took a fat envelope out of his pocket and laid it on the table. Pablo picked it up and counted the money inside. He didn’t take it out of the envelope, but he thumbed through it, moving his lips as he did. Then he smiled and said, “Enrique.”

  Enrique reached down and took a small black duffel bag from under the booth. He sat it on the table in front of Mick, who unzipped it and looked inside. Gray couldn’t see how many, but he saw several bricks of white powder. Mick zipped the bag and stood up, followed by Gray. Pablo stood and held out his hand. Gray waited to see what Mick was going to do, and was glad he did.

  Mick cracked his first smile of the day and said, “I don’t shake hands with Mexicans.”

  ******

  Stockdale, Texas

  Tuesday Afternoon

  It was getting late in the day. The heavy afternoon sun was beating through the window of the bakery. Eva drew the shade and went back over to the counter where one of her two closing-time customers sat. It was Brandon Hillman, who she hadn’t seen since the barbecue. She had been prepping the flour in the back and counting down the minutes until close when he’d come in, clearly in the middle of a phone conversation. He’d mouthed, “Hi,” and, “Coffee please,” and then said, “Mmmm,” and, “Okay,” a lot into the pho
ne. He was now finishing his call. She noticed he had already downed his coffee.

  “Can I get you a muffin or something?” she asked him.

  “I wish,” he said with a grin. “That was my trainer I was talking to. I have a fight this weekend, and if I go in there all muffined up… Well, the fight might just be with him.”

  She laughed. “More coffee then?” she offered.

  He accepted. “I’ll take one more cup.”

  As Eva poured Brandon another cup of coffee, she glanced nervously at the big blonde guy in the corner.

  Brandon noticed. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “Is everything okay, Eva?”

  She smiled at him and said, “Yes, fine. I don’t know what it is about that guy. He’s been in here every day this past week. At least the days I’ve worked. The first day he had a woman with him, but he’s come in alone ever since. He’s been nothing but polite, but there’s just something… off about him.”

  Brandon laughed. “I know a lot of people that can be said of.”

  Eva laughed too. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “What are you doing in town today, anyways?”

  “I did a fire safety class over at the high school. The chief usually does it, but he was sick with the flu today, so I volunteered. It was kind of fun. I don’t remember being quite that squirrely when I was in high school, though.”

  Eva nodded. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how working with teenagers every day didn’t make Trish swear off kids.”

  “It’s so quiet in here,” Brandon said. “Where’s Cheryl today?”

  Eva tried not to laugh at Brandon’s insinuation, but Cheryl really was loud and chatty. “She took off early for an appointment. The bakery’s usually pretty quiet this late in the afternoon.”

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Almost four,” she told him. “Closing time,” she added with a smile.

  “Well, good for you. I guess I better get back to town.”

  “How’s your girlfriend?” Eva asked him.

  “Hayley? She’s not my girlfriend. That was our first, and only, date. I’m just not really feeling the chemistry thing. As a matter of fact, she’s one of those polite but a little off people we were talking about.”