Broken Road Café 1 - The Broken Road Café (11 page)

Dan smiled. “Feeling much better, thanks for asking. It’s good to see you too. I thought I’d—” He gasped in a breath as pain shot through his shoulder as someone grabbed it and squeezed. Dan’s knees practically buckled, and Nick was at his side suddenly, his strong grip offering support as he was lowered onto a bench.
“So very sorry,” Greg’s voice floated down, his tone solicitous. “I forgot how sore that shoulder must be.”
Spots danced in front of his eyes and tears prickled behind his lashes, but Dan forced down the pain and schooled his features. “It’s all good, Greg. You always were pretty thick when it came to empathy and simple human compassion. Guess that’s why they made you managing partner—those who can, do, those who can’t, manage, right? Which makes it all the more surprising the firm put you in front of a judge. I suppose it’s your turn to take one for the team, huh?”
Greg’s eyes went flat and blank, and the smile on his face looked brittle. Then Abe leaned forward, touching Dan’s arm lightly. “You should take care of yourself better, Dan.”
That was more than Dan could take. “You and Greg, you’re the masters of stabbing the people you say you care about in the back. At least with Delgado, he shot me from the front. I can respect that in a man. But no one accused either of you of deserving respect, now, did they? Keep that in mind, Abe. And you too, Greg; once a cheater, always a cheater. Now, I’d be really interested in your defense strategy here, buddy. And the consequences when Delgado goes to jail. Wouldn’t want to be you, Greggie. I’m sure it’ll make my little shoulder wound seem like child’s play, huh?”
He knew he was fishing, but throw enough shit against the wall and some of it will stick. And Dan’s aim must have been pretty damned good, since both Abe and Greg went deathly still and all five men allowed the charged silence to continue until Greg turned his back, yanking Abe with him, and left.
Fredericks shook his head, and Nick eyed Dan with a calculating stare. Roger broke the silence. “Are you okay, Dan? I can have someone look at that shoulder for you. That was deliberate, and I’ll be letting my staff know about Mr. Simkins’s little trick before the next hearing. And the judge. He won’t be allowed near you again.”
Dan smiled, however weakly. “I’m okay, Roger. Greg and I go way back, and I can handle him. I think I’ll just go back to the inn and lie down for a while.”
“I’ll take you,” Nick volunteered. Dan started to object, but Roger thought it a wonderful idea, and before he knew it, Dan found himself bustled out of the courtroom and into Nick’s car.
“Really, Chief, I’ll be fine. That asshole just took me by surprise.” Dan reached to unbuckle the seatbelt and moaned as a twinge in his shoulder stopped him. “Well, maybe I can just sit here a minute and rest before I head back to the inn.” He relaxed back onto the headrest, closing his eyes and allowing his heart rate to come back down to normal.
After a few moments, he noticed the silence from the driver’s seat, and rolled his head to the left and opened his eyes. Nick was grasping the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension. “What’s wrong?”
Slowly turning his head to face Dan, Nick’s face was oddly sorrowful. “I try to be nice and you slam me.” Dan started to interrupt, but Nick kept going. “Would it fucking kill you to just let me help you without…you know what, just forget it. I get it. I’m not you. I don’t march in gay pride parades, or throw who I sleep with in everybody’s face, or…the point is, I’m the chief of police in a small town, and I can’t be you. And then when I meet someone I like and maybe want to get to know, and you kick me in the balls because I won’t kiss you in the middle of Main Street, it fucking hurts.”
The silence in the car was heavy, and Dan wasn’t sure what to do. On the one hand, he wanted to say
fuck you
and just go home. But…damn it, Nick had a point. There was something between the two of them, no matter how he tried to deny it, and Dan knew he was being unfair to him. Just because Nick wasn’t out, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be, at the least, friends. And he knew a part of him was making every guy he might meet pay for Abe’s betrayal.
“Nick, I’m sorry.” Dan sighed heavily. “You’re right. Would you please drive me back to the hotel, and then maybe we can meet later for dinner? And talk?”
Turning and looking—really looking—at Dan, Nick searched his face for truth, Dan thought, and evidently he was satisfied with what he saw. Slowly nodding, Nick opened his mouth to say something when his cell phone rang. It was an old fashioned ring tone, rather like the man, in a lot of ways. Nick hesitated, but Dan quickly gestured that he should take it, and Nick nodded and smiled.
“Oliver,” he barked. “Yes, Mr. O’Leary’s still with me. I was just taking him back to the Dew Drop Inn; his shoulder was bothering him after that—after Simkins grabbed it.” Nick listened for a moment, then turned his gaze to Dan. “I don’t know. I’ll ask him. Hold on for a minute.” Nick hit the mute button on his cell and turned to Dan. “Delgado sent a message through the bailiff to Fredericks. He wants to talk to you. Says he’ll consider changing his plea if you’ll talk to him. Alone.”
Huh. Dan closed his eyes. “Have some water or something to drink in here?”
“If you don’t mind sharing some spit.”
Dan laughed. “Barney, we’ve shared more than that.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his pain pills, opened the bottle and shook one out. He sat up straight and reached over. “Hand it over. It’s gonna be a long day.”

Chapter Twelve

The hallway leading to the interview room at the courthouse was painted a light shade of tan that, Dan guessed, was supposed to be soothing. To him, it looked like a pukey shade of white covered with years of cigarette smoke. He remembered, apropos of nothing, a dim scene from his childhood, being in some small room with his mother while she waited for her own mother to come out of a doctor’s office. The two women had shared a look he hadn’t understood, then hugged each other and cried, and he’d stood there, uncertain and wanting to cry too. They’d noticed him and taken him out of the claustrophobic room and gotten him ice cream, and talked quietly over his head and then a few weeks later he’d stood in another room, this time in the suit he hated to wear while people around him kept saying things like, “
She’s in a better place now,”
and, “
Thank God she went quickly
.” All he knew was he missed his grammy and wanted to go with her for ice cream one more time.

“Ready?” Nick’s voice jolted him out of his memories. “It’s not too late to call this off, Dan.” He leaned in and gently touched his arm. “Delgado is probably just yanking your chain. I don’t trust him.”

Shaking his head, Dan put a hand on the door handle, then paused. “He wants something. I don’t know what it is, but he’s waived having his lawyer present, and yeah, I know Greg will pitch a holy fit when he hears about this from Roger. But there’s something about all this I just don’t understand, Nick. Hell, a lot of somethings. If I can get just a little information from him, maybe I can make some sense out of things.”

Nick shook his head and sighed. “If you say so. Remember, he’s shackled hand and foot, and they’re attached to the table. You’re as safe as we can make it. I’ll be on the other side of the glass. The sound will be off, but you can walk out whenever you want to. Just knock on the door and the guard will be in there in a second to let you out.” He glanced at the bailiff, then back to Dan. “Ready?”

Dan nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The officer opened the door and Dan entered the small room.
Dan hadn’t paid Carlos Delgado a lot of attention when he was in court earlier. He’d been rattled by Abe being there, but that was stupid—he’d faced a hell of a lot worse and never blinked. Now, standing in the doorway, facing him, Dan really had the chance to study the man. Carlos Delgado was middle-aged, average-sized, with salt and pepper hair; he looked like someone’s dad.
“Mr. O’Leary.” Dan jumped at the voice and realized he’d been standing there for a long moment, staring. He looked up and suddenly was caught in Delgado’s gaze.
There. Now I can see the part of the man who’s a drug dealer and killer
. His eyes were flat, reptilian. No warmth at all. How had he missed that? Well, he’d straighten his spine and never let him see him sweat.
“Mr. Delgado.” Dan moved closer and took a seat at the table facing the man. Delgado smiled wryly and looked down at his shackled hands as if in apology for not being able to shake. Ignoring it, Dan put on his best lawyer’s face and looked at Delgado, pretending he was a bug under his magnifying glass. “I understand you wanted to see me.”
The amusement suddenly left Delgado’s face, and he was all business. “Yes. It seems we’re in a bit of a quandary here, Danny boy. Why the hell couldn’t you have just taken the drug case and all this would have been unnecessary?”
Unwilling to give an inch and pissed at the implied intimacy, Dan leaned in and gave the man a tight smile that never reached his eyes. “First of all, this isn’t some Irish folk song, and I’m not Danny boy to anyone. Secondly, why would I take your case? I don’t practice criminal defense, have no reason to as a partner in a firm, and don’t know you or your trucking company. As far as I know, we’ve never met and I can’t see you frequenting any of the social gatherings I might go to. So, let’s cut through the shit here, Carlie boy, what did you want?”
Fire flashed in Delgado’s eyes, and his jaw clenched, but he managed a tight smile of his own. “Agreed,
maricón
.” He leaned back and those hard eyes assessed him. “I don’t like that lawyer your firm sent in. Never did. I don’t trust him, and he’s in way too deep himself to really try to help me. And then you had to go and get in the way of my shooting that cop friend you fucked.”
Dan’s head spun. “Wait. Wait. What do you mean? You were trying to shoot
Nick
, not me? And what about Greg? What’s he into here?”
“There’s no record, and they can’t use anything I’m saying even if the
putos bastardos
are breaking their word and taping this private conversation.” Delgado’s gaze went to the tinted glass on our side. “Your lover boy was the real target; I might be pissed at you, but you could still be useful. And if you don’t play right, the big fucker might still be in someone else’s crosshairs. He needs to back off on some things he’s looking into. Maybe you can help him wise up.”
“I don’t know what you think you know about him, or about me, but trust me, he’s not my lover or boyfriend or whatever you got into your head, and if you think there’s anything I can do or say to make the thick-headed bastard drop an investigation, no damned wonder you’re in jail.”
“Ah, watch it, little boy, that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.” Delgado sat forward and leaned in, hissing, “Those little kids, the ones that disappeared from that cook at your new business? They are in an…okay place right now. But, those babies might find their way into some bad man’s bed if you don’t mind that nasty tongue of yours.
Comprende, mi amigo?

That was enough. “Listen,
hombre
, it takes a special kind of scum to threaten children that way. You want to threaten me, fine, but leave the kids out of it. Now, you tell me what the fuck you want, and then you tell me how Greg’s involved in all this, and make it good and make it quick, because I’m really feeling the need to go find a hot shower and wash your filth off me real soon. You
comprende
?”
“Oh, but you don’t have any of the bargaining chips here,
mi amigo
. But I’ll humor you.” Delgado’s voice went soft, and Dan had to lean in to hear. “We want you and your lily white reputation to defend the trucking company, and me, against the drug charges. And if you think about it, you’ll add two and two together. Your good friend Greg has been…facilitating…some transactions, and the trucking company delivers from point A to point B. Turns out Greg and your homeboy Abraham are pretty tight, more than you thought. And that just might make some people want to take a look at you, if they followed the trails just right. So, it’s in your best interest to play nicely with me, no?”
Dan’s skin crawled. If he was following this…animal’s…line of garbage, Randolph and Mays Trucking was shipping drugs, and maybe more if he thought hard about it, and Greg, and by extension, the firm, was involved by greasing some wheels. The very thought made him ill. How had he missed it? And, Abe? Oh, God…
Before he knew it, Dan was standing and knocking at the door. As it opened, he heard Delgado behind him. “Think about it and get back to me,
esse
. I’m not going anywhere.” Then he laughed, and Dan slammed the door shut to cut off the noise.
Nick was right there, and it was all he could do not to reach out to the man for comfort. But he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t out him like that. And he didn’t want to fall to pieces, or talk to the district attorney right then either. He had a lot of thinking to do, and the way his mind was whirling and trying to process all the information Delgado had dumped on him…
Then he had to wonder, why? Why would the man take a chance on telling him about Greg’s involvement, about the possibility it went deep into the firm when he had to know Dan didn’t work there anymore. Greg would be furious, and he knew good and goddamn well there was no way he would allow Dan in on this in any way, shape, or form, especially now that he had Abe.
“What the hell did he want, Dan?”
From his tone, Dan knew it wasn’t the first time Nick has asked him the question. Taking a deep breath, he looked around to make sure there weren’t too many ears around. “I need to go get some rest, Chief Oliver. My shoulder’s about to make me pass out.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m not sure who to trust here and really don’t want to say everything I heard.”
Nick glanced behind him and nodded. “But you have to say something, or Fredericks will bust a gut to haul you in and question you. Throw him a bone.” He caught Dan’s eye. “Please.”
Tired, aching, and wanting nothing more than to find a quiet corner and pass out, he nodded. “It seems there’s some sort of drug running operation going on that the main players want to keep quiet. I guess you already knew some of that from his arrest in Atlanta. But somehow it must run up here, because my being shot wasn’t why he was up here. Delgado implied there was another target.” Dan looked at Nick meaningfully, hoping he got the message. From the widening of Nick’s eyes, he figured he did.
Fredericks was suddenly in Dan’s face. “What exactly did he say? Did he name any names? What did he—“
“I think Dan’s about to pass out here,” Nick interrupted. “It can wait ‘til later this afternoon or tomorrow, Roger. I need to get Mr. O’Leary somewhere he can take his meds and rest.”
“But…”
Dan closed his eyes and felt the hallway start to spin, and then the world tilted, his legs gave out, then nothing. *
Dan slowly opened his eyes and wondered for a quick moment where the hell he was. He was lying on a king-sized bed, the room large with light filtering in through windows on two walls. In one, there was a nice bow window with a comfortable-looking nook filled with cushions and a standing lamp. A rocking chair sat beside it, a built-in shelf full of books inviting him to come and sit, relax and read. A tall wardrobe stood against the third wall, and a door led to what he wagered was a bathroom.
He had no idea where the hell he was. But given that Nick Oliver was sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard and his socked feet crossed while he focused on an e-reader, it was a pretty good bet that it was the chief’s house. Nick hadn’t realized Dan was awake yet, so he was able to study the guy without being noticed. A pair of reading glasses sat low on Nick’s nose, and his wide, muscled chest rose and fell, his biceps straining against the plain white tee shirt he wore. His gym shorts were old school, short-legged like boxer shorts, and his long, tan hairy legs seemed to stretch forever down to his—
“Hey.” Nick’s voice jerked his attention back up to his face. “Eyes up here, Slick. I have to remind you about that a lot, don’t I?”
Dan couldn’t help but smile. “Fuck you too, Barney Fife.” He pushed himself up slowly, moving the pillows behind him to support his back and shoulders. Nick watched, he noticed, ready to help but not jumping in, which Dan appreciated. “What the hell happened?” Dan asked when he was settled. “The last thing I remember is”—he closed his eyes to think—“meeting with Delgado, then talking to you and Fredericks out in the hall. Then, nothing.”
Pushing a button to power off his e-reader, Nick removed his reading glasses, cutting his eyes sideways with a sheepish look, as if embarrassed to be caught wearing them. He turned to the side to face Dan, drawing a knee under him, and wrapped his hands around his knee. “You told us you weren’t the real target that night you got shot, then you passed out. I’m sorry, Dan.” Nick reached out and took Dan’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I could see how pale and tired you were getting, and I didn’t get you out of there sooner. There’s nothing Delgado had to say that couldn’t wait, and—“
“No,” Dan stopped him. “I—
we
—needed to hear what he had to say.” Dan squeezed Nick’s fingers, then turned to face him, somehow needing to keep in physical contact with the man. “Nick, I wasn’t the target that night. You were.” He paused to let that sink it. “You’re investigating something that has Delgado and his people worried. It’s all tied in somehow with the trucking company, Randolph and Mays, that my old firm was representing. They were trying to get me to take on the drug trafficking case Delgado was involved with. But Nick, he mentioned something…it makes me sick. He said if I didn’t help his defense, Jasper’s kids would end up in some man’s bed.”
Nick went still, then jumped out of the bed and began pacing around, back and forth, his hands in his short hair. “Are you fucking kidding me? How did you know about that? About the kids? Ohh,” Nick went on before Dan could answer, “the café. It’s fucking gossip central there, and you live in the damn mayor’s pocket.” Dan could see the expressions running across Nick’s face—horror, anger, rage—and knew it wasn’t personal to him, so he let him go. “That fucker has those kids? And he’s into drugs? That means—” He finally stopped his pacing and stood at the end of the bed, looking at Dan.
“What
does
it all mean, Nick?”
Taking a deep breath, Nick blew it out slowly and appeared to make a decision. He climbed back on the bed and sat cross-legged in front of Dan. “This has to be kept in this room, and I’m trusting you with not only Jasper’s kids safety, but a lot of other lives here, Dan.”
Dan nodded. “I understand, Nick, and you can trust me. Let me help. I have a feeling maybe the pieces you’re missing I can help fill in.”
“Blue Ridge is right off Interstate 75, and there’s a lot of cabins up in these mountains. You know, having looked at properties up here that once you get up on some of these roads, you can hide pretty much anything you want up here, and it’s easy to disappear.” Dan nodded, and Nick went on. “We’ve known for a long while that drug mules use the area to drop shipments from Miami through Atlanta, and the drugs are cut and distributed up into Tennessee and back down into Atlanta from here. The problem is trying to find out exactly where they’re based, and who’s dropping them here.”
Dan’s voice was low and soft. “Fucking hell. It’s Randolph and Mays. And from what Delgado says, Greg Simkins is involved somehow. He says Greg’s greasing the wheels.”
Nodding, Nick frowned. “We know these guys bought help in the prosecutor’s office, and probably in my department, too. We can’t figure out exactly who, but they’re keeping one step ahead of us all the damned time. But it’s gotten worse. They’ve expanded into human trafficking, and, Dan, it turns my stomach.” Dan saw the shine in Nick’s eyes and had to agree. The thought that someone would try to sell other human beings, especially children, made him want to kill.
“How do Jasper’s kids fit into this though? Delgado practically said they have them. But how? Why?”
Reaching up and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, Nick huffed out a sigh. “Jasper’s a good man. But his wife…she got bored, didn’t like being a stay at home mom, whatever, and started using. In a small town like this, there aren’t many secrets, and she got to where she was taking the kids out with her when she’d go out to score. Jasper was ready to kick her ass out, but she got in way over her head and owed some people some money. We were watching and were ready to bust her and her dealer. But somehow, before we got our case wrapped up, the guys she was buying from evidently offered to wipe out her debt if she’d make a delivery for them.”
Dan was horrified. “What kind of delivery?”
“We don’t know for sure, but from what we can piece together, she sampled a little from the package, and it came in a little short.” Nick leaned back, rolling his neck. “But the next delivery they sent her on, her car crashes, her kids disappear, and she dies. I searched these hills every fucking day, Dan, but I couldn’t find those kids. I could only imagine what they were going to do with them, and what sleep I got…well, the dreams woke me up sweating and ready to scream.”
Closing his eyes, Dan made a decision. “I have to do it.”
Dan felt Nick move on the bed, and suddenly his arms bracketed Dan and held him against the headboard, his face right up in front of Dan’s. “What do you mean, you have to do it?”
“I have to defend him.” Dan opened his eyes, his gaze determined as he met Nick’s eyes, only inches from his. “I have to keep those babies safe. Whatever it takes. I’ll go back to the firm and take this case, make a deal with Greg and the trucking company owners, and get them back.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll arrest you first. You know how this goes, Dan. Come on, Slick, you aren’t a stupid man.” Nick’s eyes blazed. “They get their hooks into you once, you’ll never get loose. First it’ll be this case, then they won’t give the kids back until you do the next ‘favor’, then you’ll look up one day and you’ll be Greg Simkins.”

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