by Jessie Cooke
“Then why did you tell Garner that Mouse was unconscious when I shot him?”
“I didn’t tell him that...not in so many words.” He could see the angst in her face as she went on, “I’m sorry. He tricked me, sort of. He got me to say that it was possible, and I know that was stupid, but I’m not a good liar, Wolf.”
“Liar? You mean you really think he was unconscious?”
“I honestly don’t know. Was he?”
He stared at her again for a long time. She tried to hold his gaze and pretend not to be nervous, but he could tell that it was making her uncomfortable. That wasn’t his intention...he just wasn’t sure what to say. They hadn’t really talked about what happened that day, he had just assumed that if she thought he’d shot an unconscious man, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. “Would it make a difference to you?” he asked, at last.
Her answer surprised him. “Honestly? No. I know it should, and I’ve put a lot of thought into it. I even talked it over with my dad, who by the way is of the same opinion. It’s just that I feel like a hypocrite. I’ve seen women in prison that killed their abusers. Some of them waited until he was asleep, or even right after she made love to him...and then when he was vulnerable, she put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. It never occurred to me that as horrible as what they’d been through was, that they had any right to take a life...much less the life of someone who may not have been an immediate threat. Then, it happened to me and suddenly it’s different. I don’t want to be a hypocrite, but my thinking is different now and the fact that I don’t care is keeping me up at night. I know I should probably lose my privileges as a therapist for this. How can I counsel someone on forgiving and forgetting and moving on without using violence if I don’t believe it? But that’s the truth about how I feel, and I guess Garner sensed that and before I even realized what I was saying I told him that I didn’t care and I was glad that he was dead. I’m sorry if you’re here because of that...truly. I never wanted to see you hurt for what you did for me.”
Wolf felt himself softening with every word she spoke. He realized at that moment that his worst fear was that Blair thought he deserved to be locked up like an animal. “You shouldn’t lose your license,” he said. “You exude compassion. It’s almost like a magnet for those of us that need it. People like me need people like you, working in the system. We need people that won’t automatically assume that we’re wild animals that can’t be tamed because sometimes we don’t make the best decisions. And as for the other, those thoughts you’ve been having about Mouse are normal. When people hurt you, you want them hurt back—it’s just human nature. He not only hurt you, but you had to watch what he did to Granite. I wish that you didn’t feel guilty about your thoughts. But maybe, this will help...Mouse was awake when I killed him. He looked up at me and I hesitated because at that point, truthfully, I didn’t have to kill him. But then he smiled and all I could see in my peripheral vision was blood. He was sick, and I’m no therapist, but I don’t believe time in prison would have cured him.”
“I’m a therapist,” she said, “and I looked into his eyes...and I don’t think so either. I’m going to do whatever I can to get you out of here, I promise.”
Wolf smiled and something she said suddenly dawned on him. “So...you called me, huh?”
She laughed. “Yeah...I did.”
“And then you went over to the clubhouse?”
Still smiling she said, “Yeah, I did.”
“And what were you going to do if I’d been there?”
She looked up at the little window in the door. Wolf glanced behind him. Deputy Johnston’s back was to the window and all they could see was the top of his head. Quickly, she stood up and bent across the table and just as quickly, her soft, warm lips were on his. He opened his mouth and practically sucked her tongue in. He knew it was probably a bad idea. He was about to get one hell of a hard-on...but the ache in his crotch was going to be worth it. God, does she taste sweet. The kiss was so good...but way too short. She pulled back, looked up at the window again, and then said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Wolf was afraid his voice would crack if he spoke, so he just smiled and nodded at her instead. She picked up her briefcase and went over and knocked on the door. He wondered if she had any idea how much strength her short visit and support had given him.
18
“You’re just going to let your ex-partner, a man who would go behind your back and talk to your captain to get you thrown off a case, send a man to prison that you know does not belong there?”
Blair was standing in front of Detective Meeks’ desk with her arms folded. She’d spoken to Bruf at length about Meeks’ and Wolf’s relationship the day before. She had gotten the full scoop and she intended to use it to guilt him into doing something. “What is it you expect me to do, Miss Newman?”
“Seriously? You’re going to just let Wolf go to trial on a capital murder case, no less, rather than stand up to Garner?”
“Stand up to him? This is his case. I’m no longer on it. Taking a stand with him will only make me look bitter, and just as overfamiliar with Wolf as he was accusing me of being. I’m a good cop and I like my job with the gang task force. I got taken off this particular case, but kept my job, and if I push this, I’d be putting that in jeopardy as well. You of all people should realize that, Miss Newman.”
She paced the length of his office and then dropped down into a chair. “We have to do something.”
He chuckled and said, “Well, I hope Wolf knows how lucky he is to have you on his side. But ‘we’ aren’t going to do anything. You can do what you feel like you need to do. I have to look out for me.”
She made a face at him and wondered how anyone could let someone they called a friend rot in jail because they were worried about looking out for themselves. She stood up and said, “Fine. I hope you sleep well at night, Detective.”
“I sleep just fine, Miss Newman. I’m telling you, if I push this it’s only going to make people believe that I did what Garner is accusing me of doing.”
“Call me Blair, and what exactly is he saying you did?”
“That I glossed over my report so that the DA would look at it and not see any reason to file charges.”
“Okay...can’t you bring in those witnesses and let your captain talk to each one of them? They can tell him that what you wrote in that report was nothing but the truth.”
“Witnesses like you, Blair? Garner got you to admit that you didn’t know if Mouse was even awake when Wolf shot him, and you’re in love with the guy.”
“Excuse me?” Blair’s face went hot. His throwing at her what she already felt guilty about was bad enough, but accusing her of being in love with Wolf? “I am not in love with him.”
“Oh, okay,” Meeks said.
“I’m not.”
“Okay,” he said, again. That time he smiled slightly.
“I honestly barely know him. But he saved my life, so I feel obligated to do something for him.”
“Okay.”
“Stop saying that.”
He let out a little laugh. “Okay.”
“Stop it!”
Laughing harder then, he said, “I’m sorry, I’m just giving you a hard time. Look, I like Wolf, a lot. I don’t want to see him in prison because despite his...lifestyle, I guess you’d call it...he’s not a bad person. But, now that Garner got Alyssa to file...”
“Wait...Alyssa?”
“Yeah, the DA, Alyssa Moore.”
“I know who she is, but talk about sounding...how did you put it, familiar?” Meeks didn’t change the expression on his face as he said:
“I dated her...a long time ago. We stopped seeing each other and things were amicable and that was that. So yes, I might sound familiar when I say her name, but that’s all there is to it.”
“Could you...?” Blair couldn’t even believe she was about to ask a cop if he might be able to...what? Seduce the district attorney?
Meeks didn’t even answer her; maybe he saw her catch herself. She sighed and said, “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated.”
He nodded. “I know,” he said. “Believe me, so am I.”
Blair began pacing again, thinking over what Bruf had told her the day before. Years ago, when Wolf was barely out of his teens and Coyote was still president of the Skulls, Wolf was dating a girl who lived in Meeks’ jurisdiction. Meeks had just made detective back then and the two men knew of each other because of Wolf’s “lifestyle” but they had never met face to face. Then one night, Wolf took his girl out and stayed over at her apartment. He had something he had to do the next day for Coyote, however, and he got up and left before dawn. Back in those days, Coyote still dealt with the cartels out of Mexico and he sent his son to deliver a brick of cocaine and pick up the money. Wolf was supposed to deliver it the night before, but the “client” had changed the plans. That brick was a kilo, and it was worth twenty-five grand according to Bruf. Of course, as he told her the story, he assured her they no longer dealt in drugs. Blair wasn’t sure she believed him, but once again she was surprised at herself for not caring as much as she thought she should have. Maybe this was how women ended up in prison...their morals and values became pliable when they fell in... She stopped that thought there and went back to the one she was having about what Bruf told her.
As Wolf drove along the almost deserted highway just as dawn was breaking, he came up on a car that was driving erratically. He started to pass it when the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes and the car began to spin out of control. It stopped when it hit the guardrail, but was hanging over it precariously, about to plunge down onto the freeway below it. Wolf stopped, left his beloved bike in the middle of the highway, and called 911 as he ran to make sure whoever was in the car was okay. When he saw that it was an elderly man, who was unconscious, he told the operator and she told him to stay back away from the car and wait for EMS to arrive.
Wolf considered that, Bruf said, but when the car began to teeter, he thought about the old man in the car and the people that might be driving below, and he couldn’t just do nothing. Somehow—Bruf wasn’t sure of all the details—Wolf managed to get the old man out and to a safe place. In the meantime, the police showed up with EMS and while the ambulance and fire personnel took care of the man and the car, the police decided that they wanted to give Wolf a sobriety test. It was based on the colors he was wearing and nothing else, but while they were doing that, one of the officers picked up his bike to move it out of the middle of the highway. The brick of cocaine “fell out” of his saddlebag...or at least that was the way the cops put it in the report.
Detective Meeks arrived just about the time all of that was happening...and his grandfather was being loaded into the ambulance. Meeks’ grandfather suffered from Alzheimer’s and that night had gone missing. Meeks had been out looking for him after his brother called and said the elderly, confused man had taken his car. Once he made sure his grandfather was on his way to the hospital, the firefighter in charge told Meeks what had happened and, if Wolf hadn’t gotten the old man out of the car, what likely would have happened. According to Bruf, Wolf never knew exactly how Meeks got those uniformed officers to agree to let him go that morning. Of course, he was sent on his way without the brick and in a hell of a lot of trouble with Coyote...but it beat the hell out of drug trafficking charges and a five-year stint in jail.
That day the two men forged some kind of strange and unlikely bond that had lasted through the years. Bruf and a handful of guys at the club who were around when it happened were the only ones that knew. Blair was touched deeply by the story and her favorite part was that five years after that day, when Meeks’ grandfather passed away of natural causes, Wolf attended the funeral. Not long after, when Wolf’s mother passed, Meeks was at hers. They maintained a level of mutual respect while working on different sides of the law and when Wolf started trying to turn the club around, Meeks was one of his biggest advocates. But now that friendship only seemed to be hurting both of them and Blair was becoming more and more frustrated. She couldn’t imagine how the opinion of the head of the gang task force...
“Oh my God!” she said, suddenly, just as she was about to leave his office.
“Oh your God, what? Or should I be afraid to ask?”
“You’re still the head of the task force, right?”
“Yeah...”
“What if you went to the DA and told her that Wolf would be willing to cut some kind of deal with them in exchange for immunity in this case?”
Meeks snorted and said, “I’d say you watch too much television.”
“Mouse was a member of the White Owls, those Nazi weirdos up the hill.”
“Yes...”
“Somehow, the MC got those guys to help them, that’s how they found him at my house. What if they know something else? Something that might help you take that mess down up there?”
“Do you have knowledge that they might?” Meeks asked, shaking her head.
“No... but it’s worth asking them, don’t you think? I mean, you could do that without risking your job, right?”
“Miss...Blair...has anyone ever told you that you’re like a dog with a bone?”
“Yes, my mother, many times while I was growing up. I only fight this hard for things I really believe in, though. Come on, Detective...help me, please...for your grandfather?”
Meeks laughed and shook his head again, but Blair at least had a feeling she was a lot closer to getting him to agree to try than she had been a few minutes ago. It was more than she’d had when she woke up that morning...and now she had to get over to the courthouse for the bail hearing.
Wolf was grateful to be out of his cell. He was grateful to be out of shackles and cuffs...but most of all, he was grateful to be out of that fucking orange jumpsuit. Normally, bail hearings are done within the first twenty-four hours of an arrest, but Wolf had waived his rights to that at Harlow’s recommendation. Harlow thought it would be best to give him time to gather character witnesses and make a complete list of Wolf’s ties to the community. He knew Alyssa Moore, the district attorney on the case, was going to ask the judge to deny bail because of his affiliation, so Harlow wanted to have his own ammunition ready. Wolf looked over at the sharply dressed attorney next to him now and hoped he had enough. Even if the judge granted bail at a high dollar amount, he was sure the club would be able to manage to come up with the ten percent that the bondsperson would ask for. He could be free by the afternoon. He could be back in his own house before bedtime...hopefully with Blair in his arms.
He glanced around behind him in the courtroom, looking for Blair. He didn’t see her, but in her defense, he hadn’t told her about the hearing. Still, since no one in his club could be there, he had hoped she would. Harlow told the guys to stay away. It was going to be bad enough that the DA tried to use who he was to keep him locked up, but having them there, in the judge’s face, wouldn’t help his cause at all. He shifted in his seat and looked at the clock on the wall behind the bench. It was two minutes before nine. Once more he turned to look behind him and as if she’d appeared out of nowhere, there was Blair, sitting in the front row of the galley. She smiled at him and he felt his heart grow to take up all the space in his chest. God, I want to touch her. I need to hold her. I want to do so many things to her. He smiled back at her and took a deep breath before turning back around in time to see the DA rush in the side door and the bailiff stand up in front and say:
“All rise, the honorable Judge T.J. Aries presiding.”
The judge, a middle-aged white man, balding and with very nondescript looks, entered from his chambers in back and took his seat on the bench. He called the court to order and had the bailiff read the first case...which was Wolf’s. Wolf and his attorney stood again and so did the lady DA. She was attractive, Wolf thought, in a severe kind of way. She looked like she either needed to smile more, or Botox less.
“Miss Moore, let’s hear wh
at the state has to say.”
“Your honor,” she said, “the state would like to recommend remand in this case. The defendant is charged with second-degree murder. He is the president of the Westside Skulls MC, and he has no familial ties to the community.”
“Mr. Harlow?” the judge said.
“Your honor, my client is a lifetime resident of Fresno. He was born here and raised here by his two parents, who are now both deceased and buried here. Miss Moore is correct that he doesn’t have any familial ties to the valley, if family means blood. But as you probably know in the case of a motorcycle club...not ‘gang,’ your honor, ‘club’...the men consider themselves as family. They’re closer than most brothers. Mr. Lee is their president and thanks to him, this community has reaped great benefits from this club. He recently opened a gym, they have invested in real estate...”
“Your honor, do we need a life history?” Alyssa Moore asked.
“Miss Moore, it’s Mr. Harlow’s turn. You did have your chance.” She looked annoyed, but she sat down and Harlow went on,
“It’s true that my client is being charged with second-degree murder, but what Miss Moore is failing to mention here is that the ‘victim’ in question had two hostages, one that he had nearly beaten to death with his bare hands and the other”—Harlow turned to look at Blair and then back to the judge—“this young lady sitting in court today. She was brutalized by the state’s ‘victim.’” The way Harlow said “victim” made it sound like a dirty word, or a bad taste in his mouth. “He broke into her house, kidnapped her, punched her in the face, threatened to rape her, and made her believe that before the end of the day, she would be dead. My client did kill this man; he’s not denying that. But what he did was not murder, it was self-defense. He is not a danger to this community, your honor, and we are requesting he be released on his own recognizance.”