Levi was willing to bet Shiloh didn’t either. “Does handling it mean Thomas is going to write a check?”
Enzo waved a hand as if money was this ephemeral thing, gone so quickly it wasn’t worthy of their worries. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Are you saying you can get him out without bail money?” Seven clarified, tipping his head back to see him from under his oversized hood. Levi wanted to tell him to take the stupid hood down. Jericho would have slapped the shit out of Seven for wearing his hat indoors, much less the stupid hood, too.
Enzo flicked an irritated gaze to him. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
The older man’s agitation reminded Levi of a cat, tail twitching. He started to pace the length of the conference room, pulling a tennis ball from his pocket and tossing it in the air. Shiloh’s mouth fell open. Levi didn’t blame him. The man’s pants were so tailored, pulling a piece of paper out of them would have looked like a magic trick, never mind an entire ball.
“I’m almost positive your brother bribed someone in the district attorney’s office. It will only take me a couple hours to figure out who.”
“Why do you say that?” Shiloh asked, brows pinched.
“Well, your brother hand-delivered this so-called evidence right to the prosecutor, skipping over the police entirely. At the very least, it’s a chain of custody issue. At most, it’s bribery. You can’t get an indictment without a grand jury and whatever the prosecutor told the grand jury had to have been a lie.”
“Is that a good thing?” Shiloh asked, brows pinched together like he was trying to keep up.
“Depends. Either your brother has been framing Malachi for his own crimes since he began his criminal enterprise, or hepanicked and threw him under the bus because someone was starting to catch on to Micah’s illegal activities. Between my forensic accountants and Thomas’s…Calliope, we can unravel this incestuous little ball of yarn.”
Levi deflated against the chair. “That’s good.” When Enzo didn’t say anything, Levi asked, “Right?”
Enzo grinned. “It’s great.” He flipped the ball in the air, catching it with ease. “But it could take months. Years, even. I can get him out on bail until the trial, but if we can’t find something that forces them to dismiss the charges altogether, your brother could still end up doing time in federal prison.”
Shiloh’s face paled at Enzo’s directness. “What?”
Seven looked at Shiloh. “Look at it this way, Club Fed is way better than doing gen pop at a state level.” When three blank faces stared back at him, he shook his head like they were all stupid. “What? Am I wrong? My dad once dragged a man’s corpse over state lines just to be sure the case went to the feds.”
Enzo blinked at Seven, seemingly fighting a laugh. “Your dad’s in jail?”
Seven’s face twisted into what Levi and Nico liked to call his thinking face. It was this silly little expression that fell somewhere between trying to do a complex math equation and looking mildly constipated. Finally, he said, “I don’t think he is at the moment, but chances are he will be. I’m starting to think he likes it better in there.”
Enzo narrowed his gaze, studying Seven carefully. “You said your name is Seven?”
Seven’s shoulders rolled back, his chin coming up, immediately on the defensive. “Yeah, and…?”
Enzo appeared amused by Seven’s petulance. “So, you must be one of Ledger’s kids.”
Seven flinched at that. Stan ‘The Ledger’ Symanski was given the moniker because he was meticulous with his books andruthless with his collections. He was a big-time mobster back in Poland, but here in the States, his dick and his temper seemed to always get him into trouble.
“I’m not a kid,” Seven said. “But yeah, he’s my dad.” A look of dread passed over Seven. “Please, tell me you’re not his attorney.”
Enzo’s lip curled. “I have no use for men who demand others pay their debts while owing thousands in child support to…what? Nine women?”
“Ten,” Seven said, rolling his eyes. “What kind of criminal defense attorney only represents ‘good’ criminals?” he air-quoted.
Enzo was getting to Seven. He was acting like a brat, which meant he respected Enzo’s answer and was mad about it. Not that he’d ever admit it.
Enzo shrugged. “I represent who I want, when I want. I have my own personal code of ethics.”
Seven didn’t respond, crossing his arms over his chest and staring sullenly at the floor. Enzo bit back a smile, turning back to Shiloh and Levi. “Where were we?”
“My brother in Club Fed,” Shiloh muttered, looking a little green.
Enzo waved his hand like the idea of Mal in prison was silly. “That’s a worst case scenario, and rich people rarely get to worst case scenarios.”
Shiloh shook his head. “But I’m not rich.”
Enzo bounced his tennis ball off the conference room table, then caught it. “Lucky for you, Thomas Mulvaney has a soft spot for adorable urchins in need. Once I get Malachi out on bail, we can figure out how to turn the tables on Micah so he can do a little time in Club Fed.”
