At the back of the building, Molson was ushered through a door. It seemed bright after the dancefloor, yet it was only dimly lit. When the door shut, the music was down to a manageable level.
A man looked them up and down. “Who is she?”
“She’s with me,” Molson kept hold of her hand.
“She can’t go to your meeting,” the man decided.
“She comes with me or there’s no meeting,” Molson’s tone brooked no argument.
“Then there is no meeting,” the man shrugged. “This was at your request, not Huss’.”
“What if I stayed right here?” Holly asked. “I could wait until Molson was done talking to Huss. You can keep an eye on me the entire time.”
“Holly…” Molson gritted his teeth.
“That’ll work,” the man pointed to a chair. “You can sit right there.”
“See?” Holly sat down with a brave smile. “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”
Molson didn’t like it, but he didn’t see what else he could do. It wasn’t like Huss would reschedule.
The man gestured for Molson to keep going down the hall. After a brief hesitation, Molson went where he was guided to. Another man waited. This one frisked him, checking for any wires or weapons. Molson gave up the single jackknife that he carried in his pocket. It wasn’t worth much as a weapon, he used it mainly as a simple tool.
Molson was led into a dimly lit room. There was a booth where Huss and a couple of his associates were having drinks. They cleared out when he approached, leaving only Molson, Huss and a couple of men a respectful distance away, providing security.
“I considered your request to talk very carefully,” Huss began. “I remembered your help when we brought Erring to you. He’s my cousin. You have ten minutes of my time.”
Erring had been brought to him with a gunshot wound. Molson had helped without asking questions. He knew that no one had wanted the man to go to the hospital where questions would be raised, the cops would become involved and it was possible that someone might get arrested.
Molson knew that helping with his medical knowledge on occasion was the price he would pay for having free access to the neighborhoods where people needed him the most.
“My half-brother has been put in prison for a crime he didn’t commit,” Molson began. “His dad is a drug smuggler. The man framed his son. I know that you, and the other leaders in the gang community have gotten the drugs for your own operations from David Ramesly or his associates. I need to connect the chain upward until it hits David. I need witnesses to testify that they got the goods from David, not Michael. I’m hoping you can help me.”
“I’m hearing a lot about your needs,” Huss took a sip of his drink. He didn’t offer Molson any refreshment. “What do I care about your family issues? Do I even know your brother?”
“No,” Molson scrambled for something to say to convince him. “That’s not the point. David is no good to you guys anymore. He’s a liability. He needs to be taken out of the picture. Prison would do that.”
“We don’t use the courts to settle our disputes,” Huss raised an amused eyebrow at him.
“Yet this time you could,” Molson jumped in. “If I could get you immunity for testifying, you could show up, brag to the world that you’re a king, and not suffer a single consequence.”
“Some of us like to keep our lives private. The less publicity for the police to harass us with, the better,” he shook his head. “You’re wasting my time.”
“I saved your cousin’s life,” Molson pointed out. “I kept my mouth shut. I ain’t never asked for nothing in return.”
“I always said you were more asset than liability,” Huss mused. “I might have been wrong.”
“I will always help with any medical knowledge I have, that’s not in question,” Molson assured him. “However, I need this. I need to get this man out of prison the legal way. To do that, I need your help. I don’t want to say you owe me for your cousin’s life, you don’t. But if you did feel obligated, this would be a way to repay.”
“I’ll think about it,” Huss tossed the rest of his drink back.
Molson nodded, leaving the booth. Retrieving his jackknife, he slipped it back into his pocket as he went to find Holly.
“What happened?” Holly stood up from the chair as he approached, the security detail man still right beside her.
“Outside,” Molson slipped his hand in hers, relieved that she was safe. She held onto his arm with her other hand as they slipped through the noisy throng of people to exit the club. Once outside he pulled out the helmets, handing one to her.
“What did he say?” Holly asked again.
