Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Jesus, Spec would lose his shit at that comment.
Jo forced her face to remain neutral instead of showing the hatred she felt for this man. Who the hell was he to make such disgusting and offensive predictions? If there were two women more loved than Brooke and Liv, Jo, sure as hell, hadn’t met them.
“I know,” she whispered when she wanted to whack him in the nuts with her crutch. “It’s so tragic.”
“The thing is,” Andrew said, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “They’re so damn good at evading the law.”
Here we go.
Jo snorted as she shifted on her crutches. The ache in her side turned into straight-up pain, and her leg was beginning to throb from being in the downward position for so long. “You have no idea. I’ve been trying so hard to find some tangible evidence to prove Lock was the one who gave his sister the drugs that killed her. That man cannot be allowed custody of the baby.” She huffed in imaginary frustration. “But I can’t find a damn thing. The kicker is I can’t find a shred of evidence to prove the club even moves drugs.”
Because they don’t.
Plucking at his lower lip, Andrew began to pace. “Okay,” he said after a moment. He stopped right in front of her. “I’m going to tell you something, but you gotta swear on your life this stays between us.”
Bingo.
The listening device burned hot against her sternum.
“Yeah, of course.” She leaned in.
“You and I both know they’re up to their eyeballs in illegal shit over there, right?”
Jo nodded. “Yes, which is why it’s so infuriating we can’t pin anything on them.”
“Mm-hmm, their lawyer is as sick and bent as they are. We’ve been trying to get rid of them since they formed last year.”
“We?”
Andrew’s gaze darted around as though expecting a spy to pop out from the corner at any time. “I meant me… I. Why I can’t get rid of them,” he whispered.
“But you said we. Is there someone else on your… our side? The lieutenant?”
He shook his head. “No. LT hates the club as much as I do, but he plays by the book.”
Jo wasn’t sure about that, but it was good to know he wasn’t dirty like Andrew was.
“So, who else?”
He shifted. “I’m not ready to say. But it’s someone way up the chain. Someone who was around back when Curly was arrested. He’ll help us.”
Shit. This went higher than she’d thought. And someone who was around when Curly was arrested? Did that mean they were involved in framing the MC’s president? If so, they’d slipped through the cracks and managed to hang onto a job they sure as hell didn’t deserve. No wonder they had it in for the club. Getting rid of Curly and the Handlers kept him safe.
“Fair enough,” she managed to say around the bile burning her throat. “So you said you’ve been trying to get rid of the MC?”
He nodded. “We finally decided to take some action.”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand.” She tried to subtly stick her chest out to get the microphone closer to him. If it didn’t pick this up, she’d cry.
“Lock had nothing to do with his sister’s death. One of the only crimes that the club isn’t involved with is moving drugs. Lobo runs the drugs in this town and the Handlers hate him. Soon as we find Lock, we’ll get drugs from Lobo to plant on him and at the club. Put them all away for years to come.”
She sucked in a breath. And there it was. Admission of guilt and the intent to frame a man. But without committing an actual crime, was it enough to bring charges against him?
Probably not. She needed more.
“You work with Lobo?”
Andrew nodded and resumed pacing. “Yeah. All the fucking time. He pays good money to stay off his back.”
Holy shit. She swallowed. He’d just admitted to accepting bribes from a man known to be distributing tainted drugs throughout their town. All she had to do now was get the hell out of there and hand the recording over to the state police.
No bloodshed and no more Andrew.
Then she could quit her job and begin doing who the hell knew what for the rest of her life. She sighed. That was a worry for tomorrow or a few months from now when she could walk without assistance.
“Wow,” she said as she forced herself back to the present. “So, uh… it doesn’t bother you knowing you’re taking money from a guy who laces his drugs with fentanyl?”
The pacing stopped. “No. His money’s green like anyone else’s.”
How had she been so wrong about her partner? This entire time, she thought he’d been a self-righteous prick riding around on his high horse as he looked down on the MC. But that was wrong. He was as dirty as they came, using money from a sociopath to fund his hatred of the Handlers.