Despite all of the tough talk with myself about having to break boundaries for the sake of justice for Shannon, I found that actually acting upon that desire was a hell of a lot harder than I had anticipated. I had grown up following the rules and the law to every letter of every book, and to expect I could just throw the switch and become some sort of vigilante for her cause was more than a little ridiculous.
I was that kid in school who, if the teacher forgot to assign homework, would ask if there was anything that we needed to do that night. I was the student who actually followed uniform guidelines and was terrified of saying “no” to teachers and administrators. And I was the person who had gone to law school specifically because I believed it was the most ethical and fair way to bring justice to the world. I could never have imagined being a real-life superhero, because to do so would mean operating outside the law.
And to now realize that that had limitations? To realize I couldn’t just follow every rule in the book and have it all work out? To realize that, for the first time, perhaps in my life, the ideas of justice and fairness didn’t always work out in the law?
That was horrible. That really sucked. It really, really sucked. The foundation of my entire thought process, of my entire career, of my entire life was cracked.
But it didn’t stop me from going into work the next day. Maybe I wasn’t going to be able to make changes within the confines of my office, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t utilize the resources in it to further the action I wanted to take. I would just have to make sure to appeal to my boss as needed, even if Beth seemed to have the world’s largest—deliberately so?—blind spot when it came to the Black Reapers.
At first, the workday started like any other. I answered emails in the first hour, trying to catch up on a task that seemed all but impossible. I then went through a few documents that suggested some drug trading targets, but for the most part, I pretty much just plowed through those. I knew what Beth had wanted me to do, but I knew what I wanted to do, and if we took care of the Reapers first, that took care of the drug problem—or it at least mitigated it.
That’s what I told myself, anyway. It’s what I chose to believe in order to justify my attacks on the Reapers.
And then, about an hour before I took my lunch break, I got a call I never would have expected.
“Angela Sanders, deputy district attorney,” I said.
“Hi, Angela, this is Lane Carter. You spoke to me yesterday at the shop.”
I immediately felt my chest tighten and heat rise in my body as I considered just what threats I was about to get. While Lane’s voice might have sounded very calm and collected in this opening bit, I still felt very on edge. The man anyone feared most wasn’t the one out of control, but the one so ruthlessly in control that he could do anything he wanted.
“What do you want, Lane?” I said, my tone harsh and curt.
“The same thing you do, Angela,” he said. “Justice for Shannon.”
I took a deep breath as a pause came.
“I understand why you’re doing all of this,” he said. “I’m sorry I never knew you. I didn’t do a great job of getting to know Shannon’s friends and her world. But while it’s too late to change that, I want to help you.”
Wow.
That... that I did not expect.
I almost wondered if this was the same Lane Carter I had spoken to at the repair shop yesterday. The shift in tone and empathy was dramatically stark, and to be frank, it was making me look at Lane in a whole different light.
Instead of seeing a man with anger issues who had threatened a public official, I saw a man who had gotten ambushed and had acted on his emotions, not his thoughts. Instead of seeing a man who was terrible for Shannon, I saw a man who had done what he could to help her and tried to make her life better— even if it didn’t work out that way.
Damnit, Angela, he still put Shannon in the line of the shooting. Stay focused. He could still manipulate you— and likely is doing so.
“Well, while I appreciate the gesture, Lane, you are still a person of interest in this crime,” she said. “We may not have gotten anyone arrested for it yet, but I can assure you I will find out who is responsible. And if it turns out to be you, then I don’t care how sweet you sound on the phone.”
I heard Lane taking a deep breath. I told myself not to accuse him of anything, not so much because I didn’t have any proof, but because doing so would get him to hang up faster than saying he was an asshole who would never find love again.
“I get it,” he said. “But you know I didn’t do it.”
I didn’t say anything.
“It’s like I said yesterday. The two most responsible parties are my brother, Cole, and the Fallen Saints MC. I’m happy to tell you more, but I need something from you first.”
“Oh, delightful,” I said. I really needed to quell the sarcasm, but this just had me too angry, too vulnerable. “What do you want?”
“Full immunity.”
I lost it there. I should have known that Lane wasn’t calling me to make nice. I should have known that whatever he wound up saying wouldn’t come without some bullshit protection. I was a fool.
“Are you out of your mind, Lane?” I snapped. “You really think I’m going to give immunity to one of the lead suspects in return for some gossip?”
By now, I didn’t care about violating my rule about not accusing him of anything. If “lead suspect” bothered him, too bad.
