Page 33 of Winning Bid

“I’m gonna need an answer, Anderson.”

I shrug. “I don’t have one.”

Otto’s black driving gloves gleam in the cloudy afternoon light as he grips the steering wheel in anger. But then his shoulders slide back, resigned. “Fine. What would you tell a client who did that in there?”

I grumble, “That running off like that makes you look guilty.”

“Glad I don’t have to be the one to tell you.” He sighs, staring out the windshield. “But in fairness to you, I should have known more about what they were coming with. My guys inside can’t get close to this investigation, or they woulda told me.”

“You need better guys inside.”

He shrugs. “Neither here nor there at the moment.”

“I’m not … I don’t do criminal law, but I don’t think that went well.”

“It isn’t good. They have something, or they wouldn’t be so confident. I’ve dealt with Banks before. His partner’s a piece of work, but Banks is usually decent. I’ve never seen him so adamant, which means?—

“They have something.”

Otto nods. “Not enough, though. That’s what today was about. They wanted to trip you up and get you to say the wrong thing while they recorded it. That, plus whatever they have, would be enough, or at least, that’s what they’re thinking.”

Outside, my jaw firms and my gaze hardens on the police officers going in and out of the building. Inside, it feels like being swallowed by cold mud. It’s funny—before I killed someone, I would have thought being a lawyer in this situation would be an asset, but as it turns out, it’s not. My education only makes me think I should be able to worm my way out of this, and when I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, I end up more frustrated than before.

“I want to see their evidence, Otto. I need to know what I’m up against.”

“The only legit way to do that is if this goes to trial. That’s what discovery is for. But I don’t get the feeling that’s what you mean.”

I try to collect my thoughts. Recently, every illegal thing I’ve done has gone sideways, so I’m not sure about any of this. “Think about it—if they were blowing smoke about everything they said they had, then all they really have is a body. That body was in the water for a long time, so how much evidence can they really glean from it? I’d venture to say none. I think they got some witnesses, put two and two together, and that’s all they have. Otherwise, they’d have me locked up, right?”

“Bet your life on it?”

A twinge of panic tells me no. “I want to see their evidence. Somehow. And I’m not talking to them again, Otto. That was bullshit in there. If they want to talk, they can arrest me. If they want anything else, they can get warrants. We are done being nice about this.”

Otto takes a deep breath and sits back. “You know that’s what they want, right?”

“How’s that?”

“If they can’t get you to confess, their next step is to piss you off and make you do something stupid, so they have probable cause. Banks tried to softball you in there, but Wachowski was going for cause. He knows their next steps are warrants and knocking down your door. If you change your mind about talking, tell them you’ll only speak to Wachowski?—"

“The fuck for?”

He smirks. “Because that hothead is going to get a bad wake-up call one day, and I’d love it if you were the one to do it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Banks has pulled Wachowski’s sac outta the fire too many times. He has a rep for playing just outside the law to get confessions, evidence, whatever. I have no proof, but I know he’s planted evidence. My sources inside don’t like the guy. They don’t trust him, and for police, trust is everything. They want him gone almost as much as you do.”

“So, why the hell would I want to talk to him instead of Banks?”

“Because Wachowski is the one most likely to fuck the case up. He’s volatile. He doesn’t think through things. You can use that to your advantage if the time comes. As much as they’d like to piss you off into doing something stupid, it would be just as easy for you to do the same to him.”

I nod, thinking about how to use that. “If the time comes, I’ll consider it.”

“Aside from all of that, what aren’t you telling me about June?”

“What do you mean by that?”

His lips lock tight in a straight line as his brow arches. “I’m not an idiot, Anderson. You’re a good guy. Protective. You’d do anything for the woman you love, right?”

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