Page 15 of Pulse

“No idea,” he said with a shrug. It felt as though he’d swallowed a pint of sawdust. Had the DEA orchestrated this whole thing to reel him in, or did they piggyback on some poorvictim’s trauma? He wasn’t sure which was worse, but they’d done something to get him in their interrogation room.

And now he had to lie to his attorney to keep her from finding out he’d been a DEA agent. They might have attorney/client privilege, but the club paid the bills, so her loyalty would lie there. If she found out he’d been a fed and they wanted him back, she’d tell Curly.

As she should.

The club came first.

“Who was in here talking to you before I arrived?”

He shrugged. “Just another cop trying to get me to talk. You know how they are.” He needed the one thing he didn’t have—time. Time to think about the best response. Time to plan and process.

Talia set her papers down and narrowed her eyes at him. “Hmm.”

Could she tell he was lying? Could she see right through him? Curly wouldn’t hire a law firm without significant vetting and research. This woman had to be at the top of her field, which meant she’d be skilled at sniffing out bullshit. He’d worked alongside plenty of lawyers in his day, and the best could spot a lie from a mile away while blindfolded.

“Okay, guess we’ll come back to that.”

Pulse released the breath he’d been holding.

Picking up the file again, Talia gnawed on her lower lip. The silence allowed him to study her as she read the case notes.

Those fucking glasses.

“Victim’s name is Alicia Minor. She’s eighteen…Christ,and goes by Kitty on the streets. The poor baby,” she muttered. With a huff, she lifted her gaze and stared straight into his eyes through those pornographic glasses. “What’s your connection to the victim?”

It was Pulse’s turn to huff, but it came off as more of a grunt. “Never heard of her.”

“No?” She pulled an eight-by-ten photograph from the file and turned it his way.

He shook his head as his stomach soured. “Jesus, she looks like a child.”

“Eighteen. She basically is.”

He racked his brain. Had she been a patient at the hospital? Did she have an affiliation with one of his club’s enemies? Or the most likely question to have a big fat yes as an answer—did the DEA pressure her into implicating him by offering her an out on prostitution charges?

“I’ve never seen her before.”

She studied his face for at least thirty painful seconds before speaking. “Okay, then.”

“I work in Tampa but got off shift before three. After that, I drove straight to the clubhouse. I’ve been there all night, and everyone there can vouch for me. The whole damn club was there. And if they don’t want to take the word of a bunch of bikers they fucking hate, there are photos and videos from throughout the night. Phones timestamp that shit.”

“They do.” Talia frowned. “And they’re saying this assault occurred around eight. I know you said this already, but to clarify, you were at the clubhouse surrounded by others at eight o’clock, correct?”

He nodded. “I arrived around four and did not leave until the detectives shoved me in their car at ten something.”

“Well, I guess there’s nothing left to do but invite the detectives back in and see what garbage evidence they have on you, and why this young woman named you when you couldn’t have been there.” She tilted her head and pursed her lips before asking, “Are you the type of client who’s going to drive mebatshit crazy, or are you going to listen and only open your mouth when I tell you to?”

He snorted. “I’ll be a good boy.” He’d do anything she wanted if she wore those glasses a little longer.

Talia winked. “Just how I like ‘em.”

Five minutes later, Detectives Wallace and McGee sat across from him once again. Did they know? Were they aware the DEA had their grubby hands all over this, or did they think this was a typical investigation?

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Talia said. “My client would like to get home, and I’d like to be able to grab a few hours of sleep tonight.”

Pulse’s lips twitched as the detectives frowned. Talia had a way about her, that was for sure. He liked her no-nonsense style and almost aggressive approach. No way in hell would anyone be walking all over her.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath there, Ms. Davenport. Our victim has both named and described Mr. Vargas in detail as well as exactly how he beat the absolute shit out of her. So how about you start by telling us where you were this evening between seven and ten p.m.?”

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