by J J Miller
“Not if I kill him first,” said Rollins as he opened the car door.
I stepped forward and grabbed the door. Rollins glared at me.
“Best you step off, Madison,” he said. “I’m going to sort this out right now.”
“Rollins. Listen to me. If you think you can walk into your own company and take Scooter out, you’re mistaken. He’ll be ready for you and he’ll have men to back him up. What have you got? An ‘I’m The Boss’ badge?”
Rollins pondered my words. “What do you suggest?”
“I’ve got an idea. If it works, you’ll get to clean house for good, and get your company back into your hands. And I’ll get what I need to free Chip.”
Rollins cast his eyes out over to the beach and the windswept sea beyond. Then he shut the door, leaned his back against his car and nodded.
“Alright. I’m listening.”
Chapter 48
“Will this take long, Brad?” asked Scooter Slovak after Megan had shown him into my office. “I mean, you said an hour on the phone. Will it take that long? I’ve got a lot going on this morning.”
I gestured for him to take a seat. “An hour at the most, I promise,” I said. “Can Megan get you anything? Water? Coffee?”
“No, I’m good,” said Slovak. “Let’s get into it.”
I went and sat behind my desk, and leaned back and opened my palms as I surveyed the documents I had placed over my desk. “I just don’t get it, Scooter. I’m just stunned by the verdict. I thought we had a good case. And I’m gutted for Chip. Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, of course I am. Of course.”
“But look, thanks for coming. I always do a thorough debrief after a trial. You know, go over everything with a fine-tooth comb to see if I missed anything.”
“But you’re going to appeal, aren’t you? I thought that was your next step.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly right. So to do that I have to review all this shit.” I picked up one pile of documents after another. “Court transcripts, exhibits, briefs, you name it. Lucky me, I get to relive the whole thing, blow by blow.”
Slovak had his fingers interlaced, and he was trying his best to appear relaxed but it was clear his patience was at a low ebb. “I did wonder whether my testimony helped Chip’s cause or made it worse.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be silly. You did great.”
“But the prosecutor got it out of me that Chip saved my life and I know you didn’t want the jury to hear that. I’m sorry I slipped up like that.”
I leaned forward with my arms crossed on the desk. “Listen, Scooter. Don’t beat yourself up about that. Believe me, Chip’s not in jail because of anything you said on the stand. No, our real problem, the way I see it, was with the jury.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I mean anyone who sat through the case knows that there was ample room for doubt about Chip’s guilt. Yet they turn in a guilty verdict almost as quick as it takes to get a pizza delivered. No, something wasn’t right there. That’s my hunch. But none of these documents here are going to shed any light on what the jury was thinking. Court transcripts don’t cover what went on in the deliberation room.”
Slovak looked at his watch, and lifted one side of his mouth. “I don’t see how I can—”
“Sorry, Scooter. There’s so much to go over. But the jury stuff, that’s my problem. But I did want to review your testimony, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.”
“Something you said piqued my interest.”
“What was that?”
“You said, now what were your words exactly?” I flipped through a wad of transcripts and after half a minute or so finally came to the page I was after. “Here it is. You said, ‘He’s not dumb enough to allow himself to be blamed for it either. I think someone wanted the money and thought this was a good way to get him blamed for it.’”
Slovak remained silent as he tried to gauge whether or not there was anything to read between the lines. “And?”
“And, well, I think you’re exactly right. I think you described exactly what happened.”
“Yes?”
“Well, who do you think would do that?”
“I said in court, I seem to recall, that I thought the guys from Bravo could pull that off.”
“Yeah, I thought about that too. But then why would Chip be spared?”
“To frame him. Look Brad, is talking to me about this stuff necessary? Because it seems we’re just raking over the coals. And, as much as I’d like to help, that’s really not my job. It’s yours.”
“Right you are. I did think framing Chip might be the answer but then I thought of another possibility.”
Slovak was no longer able to hide his frustration. “And what’s that?” he asked flatly.
“Maybe the reason Chip’s was allowed to live was because he saved your life.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Think about it.”
“Madison, you’re fucking insane,” Slovak said, his eyes filled with scorn. “You go shooting your mouth off like that and—”
“Hey, relax, Scooter. I’m not saying you did it. I’m talking about Rollins. Shit, I thought that was obvious. I’m saying the fact that Chip saved your life might have earned him some grace.”
Slovak checked himself. He said nothing. Then a cold resolve seemed to come over him. “You want to fuck with me, Madison? Is that what you brought me here for?”
“Easy, Scooter. Come on. We’re on the same side here.”
Slovak was leaned forward in his chair with a look to kill. “We’re not on the same side, you fuck. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here but you’re walking on very fucking dangerous ground.”
I found myself facing the man who everyone, including me, had underestimated. I understood the fear he could instill in some guy off the street who’d been roped into jury duty.
“Hey, Scooter. There’s not need for that. Please, calm down. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
Slovak jumped to his feet. “Shut your mouth, Madison.” He put his hands on the desk and loomed over me. “You want to start throwing theories like that around then you’d better think about this. Think about that daughter of yours. Bella, right? I will shoot her in front of your fucking eyes, if you cross me. You got that?”
I held up my palms and backed myself hard into my chair, barley gain to look at Slovak. “Scooter, I’m sorry. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not going to be telling anyone what I just said. I promise.”
“You know how easy it was for me to drop Nate and Bo? I did it like that,” he said, snapping his fingers.
Slovak pushed off the table and stood tall, the rageful power I’d provoked taking over his entire being. He looked at me with contempt.
“They were my friends. You think I’d have any hesitation to drop you and your little girl?”
I paused for a few moments, then unfurled myself from my near-fetal position. With my eye on Slovak, I leaned forward and pressed a button on my phone.
“Did you get all that, Ed?”
“Yes, we did. Loud and clear.”
Slovak’s face contorted into a maze of confusion. Then an instant later, when he realized what he’d just done, the flesh slackened in shock.
“Why don’t you come join us, Ed and Quinn?”
At the sound of the door swinging open behind him, Slovak spun around. Quinn Rollins stepped forward and slammed his right fist hard into Slovak’s cheek, dropping him to the floor. Ed Frierson shot his arm out to stop Rollins from moving in for the kill.
“Best let us take it from here, Quinn.”
Chapter 49
From my poolside table, the clear, jade water of Turtle Bay wrapped around the coastline and stretched out to the white lines of foam that marked the outer reef. With only the slightest of breezes and no swell, the shimmering surface was as smooth as brushed hide. The North Shore’s famed surf breaks of Waimea, Banzai Pipeline, and Sunset wer
e just a few minutes’ drive away, but now, in mid-summer, even they were as flat and tame as a wading pool.
In the middle of the bay, I could see Bella on her paddleboard with two friends she’d made the very first day we arrived. I heard a gleeful cry and saw that they’d spotted a turtle and were paddling to get a closer look.
Bella and I had agreed to a partial digital detox. Our phones were to be left in the hotel room. So our time was mostly device free, and we filled it with just about every activity available under the Hawaiian sun. Bella loved surfing, and for the past few days, the trade winds had created a little swell that peeled around the point. Gentle and full, these ideal beginner waves would take us all the way to the beach. Playing in the warm sea water on cloudless days was a tonic for the soul.
Los Angeles felt a world away, as did Chip Bowman’s case. He’d come to see me after his release from prison to express his gratitude. Rollins had asked him to return to HardShell to work as his trusted second-in-command, and Chip gladly accepted. The two of them were going through the entire personnel to weed out the bad eggs that had been corrupted by Slovak. It pleased me to hear that Cliff Loda was not just retained but promoted, even after Chip and Rollins discovered that his resume had been embellished.
Running the broom through HardShell was being aided by the fresh investigation launched by Frierson and his team. In building their case against Slovak, they’d been putting our drone footage to good use. A few of the men, when presented with video of them working at a meth lab, decided to turn on Slovak. Mercenaries to the end, they told Frierson’s team everything they knew about Reed and Hendricks and the jobs they did for Slovak.
Piece by piece, Slovak’s plan was unpacked. The men told Frierson that Slovak had a lot of them under his thumb, calling in favors against the sizeable sums of money he’d lent them. He had Reed and Hendricks by the balls more than most, as he possessed material from Iraq that could see them brought up on murder charges in a heartbeat. And fittingly, for this pair of rogue soldiers, it appeared he deployed them as hitmen. With his sights set on seizing control of HardShell, Scooter could not allow Henry Tuck to remove his money and cripple the business, so he had Reed and Hendricks do what they did in Iraq: commit murder and cover their tracks.
Frierson would have a tough job charging Slovak for Tuck’s murder. In the case of Reed and Hendricks’s murder, though, the prospects of a conviction were far more promising.
Rollins and I had spoken several times since Slovak’s arrest. And as time progressed, the scale of his treachery had become apparent. Rollins said the cops finally discovered what was left of the stolen money and drugs at a property Slovak leased under a false identity. When they went through the computer found at that location, they discovered he was selling the cannabis and the meth on the dark web.
Rollins believed Slovak planned the heist with two goals in mind. First, to get rid of Reed and Hendricks so they could never hold the murder of Henry Tuck over him. Second, Slovak wanted to build up a war chest to evict Rollins from HardShell, and then ramp up the company’s illegal trade. When Rollins ordered the HardShell vans to be pulled apart, secret compartments were discovered in the panels and floors of every vehicle.
“Chip was right all along,” Rollins said. “But I trusted the guys who’d worked for me for years. I could never believe that Scooter, Nate, Bo—all three of them—were using my trucks to run illegal drugs.”
After Slovak was arrested at my office, Frierson’s men were delighted to find a lot of interesting material on his cell phone. A bank of WhatsApp messages saved onto the cloud treated the cops to a blow-by-blow account of how Slovak planned the heist.
They asked Cliff to swap shifts with Chip so that Chip would be on the job. When they got to the lot on Morrison Street, Nate’s job was to knock Chip unconscious. Then Slovak arrived. He may have pretended to check Chip’s vitals while he was lying on the ground, and used the opportunity to take his weapon. Slovak then stood up and shot his accomplices dead before using Nate’s weapon to fire a bullet in Chip’s leg to point the finger of blame at Chip. He could not afford to have Chip interfering in the illegal trade, yet he was reluctant to kill him. Making Chip the scapegoat was the perfect solution.
A waiter arrived with my second ice-cold beer. I felt lucky, and couldn’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed.
A group of us were planning a farewell meal that night at the resort’s bar and grill. I was initially disinclined to be social with other guests, but Bella’s charm had spread throughout the resort and I found myself having to follow her lead. Her fans included not just the girls she was now out paddleboarding with but their parents too, whose remarks about my daughter made me immensely proud.
Bella was blossoming into a young woman whose future was something I’d feel privileged to witness. I wasn’t concerned with what she wanted to be, where she wanted to study, or when she might tell me she’d met the guy she wanted to marry. She was going to write her own story—a rich, original and, hopefully, happy one. I was humbled to be the father she loves. I’m sure Claire felt the same. When I thought of those two, I felt sad to know that they had grown a little further apart over the years. Nothing that couldn’t be bridged, I thought.
“Dad!” I heard Bella cry out, the sound of her voice carrying clear across the water. Now that she had my attention, she flung her arms up in the air and did a backflip off her paddleboard into the water. When her head emerged next to the board, I could see she was beaming at me. I raised my beer in one hand and gave her the thumbs up with the other.
I intended to finish the beer and then grab a board and paddle out to join Bella and her friends. I’d noticed that the wind had picked up a little and there was a half-foot wave peeling around the point. This could be our last surf session before we checked out the next morning.
As I drained the bottle, the waiter approached my table carrying a tray. I could see him looking at me and I motioned to him that I’d had enough. He kept on coming, though.
“Sir? Mr. Madison?” he said.
“Thank you, but no more for now. I’m about to get back in the water.”
“Sir, there’s a call for you.”
That’s when I noticed the telephone resting on his tray.
“Oh, okay,” I said. Must be Megan, I thought. Couldn’t she just leave a message on my cell?
“Hello?” I said into the mouthpiece. “This is Brad.”
“Brad, I’m so sorry to call,” said a woman’s voice that I didn’t recognize immediately.
“Who—?”
“It’s Nina, Brad. Nina Lindstrom.” She sounded upset, her voice unsteady. Instinctively, I looked out over the water to Bella, who was now paddling her board toward me. She saw I was looking and pointed excitedly at the surf, knowing that there was some great fun to be had and wondering why I hadn’t already noticed and come to join her.
“I’m sorry to call you like this. And I hate to be the one tell you.”
“Tell me what?” My heartbeat dropped instantly. Nina was crying.
“It’s Claire,” she said tearfully. “There’s been an accident.”
“What kind of accident? She’s okay, isn’t she, Nina?”
I ran a hand over my head and looked out again at Bella, who was now paddling hard to catch a wave.
“No, Brad. No, she’s not okay. You need to come home. Both of you.”
“Is she in the hospital? What’s happened?”
Nina coughed as she struggled for breath.
“Yes,” she said, struggling to get her words out. “She was hit by a car.”
I felt nauseous. I didn’t know what to ask next. More to the point, I didn’t want to leave myself open to hearing the worst. Nina was now sobbing, almost overwhelmed by grief.
“Nina,” I said. “How bad is it?”
“You need to come back right away,” she said, once she’d caught her breath. “We don’t know how long she can hold on.”
THE END
Books by J.J. Miller
THE BRAD MADISON SERIES
Force of Justice (Book 1)
Divine Justice (Book 2)
Game of Justice (Book 3)
Blood and Justice (Book 4)
THE CADENCE ELLIOTT SERIES
I Swear To Tell (Book 1)
Stay in touch with J.J.
Contact: [email protected]
Facebook: @jjmillerbooks
Blog|Website: jjmillerbooks.com
NOTE FROM J.J.
Thanks so much for reading Blood and Justice. I really hope you enjoyed the ride.
Could I ask you to do a couple of things to help the book’s prospects? First, please a review on Amazon. Second, please recommend the book to fellow readers. This support means a great deal to a small-fry writer like me.
And if you’d like a free read, grab a copy of Code of Justice below. This short story was the first Brad Madison book I published.
All the best,
J.J.
When a Tinder date turns deadly, Brad must fight to free his client ... and to save his own family. This is the short story that launched the Brad Madison series.
To get yourself a free copy, sign up for J.J.’s newsletter here.