“Over two hours,” she whispers, somewhat dazed.
“You stuck a pregnant woman in an interrogation room for two hours and just left her there?” my lawyer hisses.
“I’ve got to pee.” She shakes me off as the woman in front of us points to the restroom doors. I watch her go and keep my eye on the door so she can’t slip past me.
My lawyer and the cop are arguing, drawing attention from others, when the captain walks in. “Someone want to tell me why my precinct sounds like a preschool?”
“Your officer here told my client he was being arrested and didn’t read him his Miranda rights. After interrogating him, he told him he was mistaken and wasn’t under arrest. Unbeknownst to us, he had also brought in a pregnant woman, a friend of my client, and left her alone in an interrogation room for over two hours before berating her in front of witnesses when she needed the restroom. That sound about right?” my lawyer snaps.
The captain looks to his man and frowns. “My office. Now.”
The officer glares at me before storming off.
“I’ll handle it,” the captain states.
“Make sure you do because that officer is about as prejudiced as they come. He saw my client as a member of a motorcycle club and decided he was guilty of a crime. He just hadn’t figured out what the crime was yet. Eventually, he settled on stalking and provided zero evidence to back that up.”
“I said I’d handle it. If we need to bring your client back in for further questions, I’ll be sure it’s done with a different officer.”
“Thank you,” my lawyer answers curtly. We wait for him to leave before he looks at me, warning me to shut my mouth. “Here are the keys to your truck. One of the prospects drove it over. I suggest you leave now so you’re not brought up on another bogus charge like intimidating a witness.”
I want to tell him to fuck off, but this isn’t the time or place. “Fine. I’ll walk out with you.” I turn to the woman waiting outside the restroom door. “Can you tell her I had to go, but I’ll call her?”
My lawyer curses but lets it go. “It might be wise to inform the lady that she is no longer needed here—if she ever was. If she’d like to lodge a complaint, I’d be happy to help her.” He hands a business card to the woman, who looks like a deer in headlights.
“Erm…sure.” She takes the card and watches as we leave. He doesn’t say anything else until we step outside.
“You’re parked just around the corner there.” He points and I follow his finger, just spotting the tail lights of my truck. I start walking toward it, and he follows. “Tell me what happened.”
“I went to check up on Legs after a suspicious package turned up at the clubhouse.”
“What kind of package?”
“The kind we thought was a bomb to start with. In the end, we realized it was a message. The bag contained personal items that belonged to Legs.”
“Like photos?”
“Like underwear.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, that was my thought, too. I turned up there, and when there was no answer, I went next door to wait?—”
“You know the person who lives next door?”
“Not really. He threatened to hurt Legs, so I threatened to break his legs. He ran off like a pussy and I’ve been waiting for him to come back,” I lie.
“So you’ve been using his apartment?”
“I needed Legs to be safe.”
“For fuck sake, Midas. They could at least get you on breaking and entering.”
“I have a key. As far as they’re concerned, I’m watching the apartment for the guy.”
“And the wall of photos?”
I swallow the bile rushing up the back of my throat. “Are new. I’ve been busy the last few days, with Havoc being gone and fixing up my apartment. Whoever did it, did it recently.”
