Chapter Twelve Brigit

CHAPTER TWELVE: brIGIT

Wildcard stiffens next to me at the mention of how Misha creeped me out. I lay my hand on his leg to calm him. He slides his fingers between mine and squeezes.

"Misha knows you saw him?" Chill asks.

I nod. "Oh, yeah. I made a noise when he shot Mike. He looked right at me before I took off running. His two thugs chased me outside and shot at me as I drove away."

"Can you remember anything that they discussed? Like why Misha killed Mike?" Havoc asks. "Might help us if we knew the motive."

"Yes, Misha was angry at Mike because of an undercover cop. Something about Mike not vetting the customers. Mike blamed George."

"George who?" Wired asks.

"George Calloway. He's the night manager."

"Was he in the room, too?"

I shake my head. "I don't think so. At least I didn't see him. He usually leaves before I arrive."

"What else did they say?"

"Misha said he disposed of the cop. Wait. Maybe Mike was the one who said that. I can't remember. I just know it sounded like the cop was dead."

"Did you see anyone besides Misha and his men?"

"No. Why?"

"Because the cops have a witness who says they saw you leaving Mike's office right before they found the body."

"I didn't go into the office. I only stood outside. Who said they saw me?"

"My contact doesn't have that information. According to him, you're the only suspect."

I feel my heart drop, but then I remember something. "What about the security cameras? We have cameras inside the hotel and outside. Not inside the offices, but they cover the hallway."

"Did you have access to the security cameras?" Spark asks.

Nodding quickly, I give them the name of the network and my login information. "This should give you access to everything that's on the server."

"Unless they suspended your account," Chill comments.

I shake my head. "I'm the one that managed employee computer access. Being the head of HR, Mike thought it made sense for me to do it. I doubt anyone there knows how to use the system. Mike was my backup."

"Excellent," Spark says. "I'll work on getting into the server. Once I have something, I'll let you know."

"I'm working on gathering traffic cam footage and footage from security cameras in the area," Wired says. "If we can get footage of Misha's men chasing you, that might help. Whatever Spark and I find, we can send to the cops anonymously."

"Will the cops go after Misha?" Puma asks. "I expect someone like him to own a few cops."

"He does. But I know a few who aren't on his payroll. I'll find out which detective caught the case. My contact will get back to me as soon as he knows more."

"What about the FBI?" Chill says. "We could find an agent who would love a crack at Misha and the Bratva."

"Might be an option. I'll see if I can find out if the FBI is looking at Misha," Havoc offers.

"Okay, so we'll gather what we can and figure out our next steps," Puma says, ending the call.

"We have another problem," Puma says, but he's addressing Chill. "Rafe."

"Who's Rafe?" I ask.

"He's Viper's man," Chill says. "He's also a cop."

"He's crossed into the gray for us, but I don't think he'll ignore the fact we're hiding a fugitive. Even if we can convince him of her innocence."

"He won't be a problem. According to Viper, he's too busy to come to the clubhouse any time soon. Not only is he still working the case against those assholes who targeted college students, but he's dealing with the fallout of his boss's arrest. Viper said he's also hearing rumblings that more women are missing than just the ones found at the dump site."

I don't know what they're talking about, but by the looks the four of them share, I'm not sure I want to know. Besides, a dump site? I've had enough experience with death to last me a lifetime. Now, I just want to think of something happy. Like visiting my dad and seeing Colt play with his new friends.

"Is that all you need from me?" I ask. Wildcard looks at me with concern, so I offer him a smile. "I just need a break from murder."

Wildcard draws me in for a hug and kisses the top of my head. "Why don't you go find Colt and your dad?"

"That's the plan," I say, standing up.

"I doubt I need to tell you this, but I'm doing it, anyway. Don't leave the clubhouse. You can go out to the backyard, but not out the front. Okay?" Puma asks.

I nod and leave the room. Spark walks out with me. "I'll help you find them. This place is a maze until you get used to it."

He leads me back outside, where I find Colt and a pretty little blonde girl standing at the top of a tower. The two are taking turns ducking and shooting their Nerf guns at the other tower, where Elina and another little boy are doing the same. The four are laughing so hard that I doubt any of them are hitting their targets. My heart bursts to see Colt having so much fun. He had a quiet life back in Boston with very few friends.

I sit next to my dad as a prospect comes outside and hands water bottles to the adults. He also has juice boxes, which has the kids rushing out of their fortress to grab them. The kids thank him. Elina introduces the prospect to Colt as Max. The little blonde girl wraps her arms around Max's leg and tells Colt that he's her brother.

"They're going to sleep well tonight," I say to my dad, who chuckles.

"We were just talking about that. This is a daily occurrence. The kids go full tilt all day and then crash."

"I've met Elina, but I don't know the others."

"The other boy is Slade. He belongs to Chill and Hunter. Hunter is a prospect and well Chill…"

"Is the club SOA. I've met her. That's her son?"

"Stepson. Hunter's wife died a few months back. The other little girl is Angel. Her mom is Angela." Dad nods at the pretty blonde woman sitting with Elina's mom, Alisa. She was married to Viper and Max's father."

"Is he here?"

"No. Someone murdered him. He wasn't a nice guy, from what Viper has said."

We sit in silence for several minutes before I broach the subject of dad's attack on Wildcard.

"It was a misunderstanding. Mine. Something you need to know about being in prison is that everything you know no longer matters. It doesn't help when you know you're innocent. I didn't commit the crime they accused me of. Everyone says they're innocent, but I was. The gun they found on me wasn't mine. I hadn't been carrying. When the cops pulled us over, Squiggy shoved the gun at me. He said that he'd go to prison if they found it on him, but that I'd be okay since it would be my first offense. He promised that they'd never send me to prison. That he'd take care of it."

"He didn't."

"No, he didn't. Didn't take me long to realize that he set me up and that he wanted me to go to prison. The club lawyer told me to plead guilty, that the judge would commute my sentence since I was a single dad, and it was my first brush with the law. I argued with the lawyer and Squiggy told me to shut up and plead guilty or I'd never make it out of prison. That's when I contacted Wildcard and begged him to take you away from here."

"Okay. But then…"

"I'm getting there," Dad grumbles, making me laugh. As a little girl, I'd always push him to get to the good part in his stories. He side-eyes me, but grins. "I plead guilty, as I was told, and they sent me to prison. The lawyer told me the judge made an example of me. That he was sorry he couldn't get my sentence reduced. Bunch of lies. Squiggy stopped by and asked about you. I told him you left weeks ago. Told him we had a row, and you took off. I don't think he believed me, but it sure pissed him off. Seeing him rant and rave about you being gone told me I made the right decision, asking Wildcard to get you away when he did."

"So, why…?"

"Girl," Dad growls out a warning. So I shut my mouth and wait impatiently for him to continue. "I was grateful to Wildcard and trusted him to take care of you at first. When I didn't hear from Wildcard, I started having doubts. That's what prison does to a man. It makes him get lost in his head. They wouldn't let me talk to anyone outside the prison. I wrote letters, but got nothing back. Met with a prisoner liaison and made inquiries about getting an appeal and wanting a new lawyer. That's when I got a visit from Dale Westbrook. He was the President of the Original Chapter in San Diego. Dale told me I needed to keep my mouth shut and do my time. He told me I trusted the wrong guy and that Wildcard sold you to a sick motherfucker. Promised me you'd stay alive as long as did what I was told."

"You believed him?"

"What else was I supposed to believe?"

"But Wildcard said he tried to visit you in prison. You refused to see him," Viper chimes in. I didn't realize she'd moved closer to us and had been listening to our conversation.

"He didn't."

"Could someone have refused his visit on your behalf?" I ask. "Squiggy or Dale, might have had someone on the inside watching you? How else could they have known you were asking for an appeal?"

Dad nods slowly as he considers my questions. "I wouldn't put it past the bastard. I never considered it. Shit, I'm an idiot."

"You couldn't have known," I assure him.

"But going off half-cocked was stupid. I'm lucky Puma didn't kill me."

"You aren't off the hook yet," Viper says. "He probably won't kill you…"

"But he'll make it hurt. Yeah, I deserve it."