Page 70 of Whatever It Takes

Nerves knotted in my stomach with each step closer we got to the interrogation room. Charlotte’s palm was sweating as she clung to me with everything she had. There were a few familiar faces that passed me by and a lot of black suits that I recognized as Feds. This was bad. Very fucking bad.

“What’s up, John?” I said, leaning my arms on the desk and glancing at the monitors. John was the desk sergeant on duty tonight. His round belly built from way too many beers after work and sagging skin was a telltale sign that he was way past his prime. He was also a hard-ass who constantly reminded everyone that life hadn’t been too kind to him. The extra weight around his middle and the two heart attacks he’d had should have pushed him into retirement. Instead, he settled for desk duty. A position he hated, but I guess it was better than the alternative.

John’s eyes shifted to Charlotte. Judging by the frown on his face he looked to be in a shit mood. What a surprise. “We got a full house,” he said, caution in his voice. “She can’t go any farther, and you’re not allowed either.”

“I’m aware,” I said, trying to ignore the agitation that stirred in the pit of my stomach. I knew I wasn’t allowed in that little soundproof box adorned with nothing more than a desk and a couple uncomfortable chairs. That didn’t stop me from hoping to sneak a view through the glass.

I ran my fingers through my hair and then pulled on Charlotte’s hand. “I’m going to bring you to a waiting room.”

“Where are you going?” she asked in a lowered voice, as I steered her down the hall. She kept looking over her shoulder, probably making sure Big John didn’t try to stop us.

“I’m going to the observation room,” I said as calmly as I could, even though I felt anything but calm.

She sighed in frustration. “I want to see him.”

Hatred spun in my gut. I had to clench down on my jaw to keep the words trapped inside my throat. I didn’t want her anywhere near him. I wanted Grant Anderson behind bars and out of our lives for good.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I fucking hate this.”

“Quinn, we can’t avoid this. I need to talk to him.”

“You’re not going to be able to talk to him yet,” I said, helping her sit down on the cold metal chair along the wall. It was right under the vent where the cold air would blast through. I took my jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. “This interview could take hours. Let me see what I can find out.”

She sagged forward and wrapped my jacket tightly around her arms. “Okay.”

I kissed the crown of her head before walking away.

The outside was buzzing with voices of people coming and going. My gaze searched out a friendly face, one that could fill me in on what was going down behind those closed doors.

“Scott.” I held out my hand for a greeting as I approached the man standing vigilant outside the door. Scott Kerr was a retired cop who now worked in the District Attorney’s office in the investigations bureau. He’s an old friend of my father’s who was well connected. If anyone knew anything, it was Scott.

“What’s the word?” I asked, planting my feet firmly on the linoleum floor. I’d spent many hours in that interrogation room over the course of my career. Yet, as I stood there, I had no idea what to expect or how to prepare myself.

He nodded his head to the side, and I followed him to the far end of the hall so we were out of earshot. “They found him in a studio apartment upstairs from The Pleasure Room.” He paused. “I guess he wasn’t the straight shooter everyone thought he was. From what I gather, he was doing some questionable shit and dealing some dirty deals on the side. He was in deep with these bad dudes.”

I roughed a hand down my face. The Pleasure Room was a well-known strip club owned by none other than Vinny Valentino. Marco’s predictions were right. All that time he was hanging out with the kind of people that he once made a career of putting behind bars. It was ironic how the tables had turned. Grant Anderson went from white-collar wunderkind to back-alley bullshitter.

I cleared my throat and shifted my gaze away. “I don’t want any of his shady shit to touch my girls. I don’t care what he landed himself in. He needs to understand that his family’s money and influence isn’t going to make any of his problems go away. He’s not going to be able to buy his way out of this.”

The guys that he was mixed up with would put him in an unmarked grave before he even had a chance to blink. They killed for laughs and wouldn’t think twice about harming anyone associated with him.

Scott straightened his tie and stood straight. “Speaking of money. His daddy and his team of lawyers are on their way. We have a special counsel coming in and he has his first arraignment tomorrow at noon. We are doing this by the book. He’s not leaving. So, for right now your girls are safe. The evidence against him is solid. You might want to convince Charlotte to cut all ties with him as soon as possible though. It will make things a lot easier for her and her little girl.”

I shook his hand and went to go find Charlotte. I pushed past the doors to the waiting room, noticing she wasn’t alone. The Anderson family had arrived and they all looked very fucking cozy. Grant’s mother and Charlotte were sitting next to each other holding hands, while his father and brother sat across from her. All four of them looked to be in a deep family discussion. I hadn’t even stepped a foot into the room yet and I could already feel the frosty air.

Grant’s father looked up at the sound of my dress shoes squeaking against the floor. I’ve been in a lot of awkward situations over the years, but this was a whole new level of awkward.

“Quinn, right?” Mrs. Anderson asked, eyeing me carefully.

Charlotte swallowed and nervously crossed her legs. She pulled my jacket tight across her shoulders. I wanted to lift her from that chair and pull her into my arms, but I didn’t think that would go over very well. So I nodded and stood off to the side, feeling unsure of where my place was.

John Anderson lifted his eyebrow, his eyes shifted from Charlotte to me. “Grant’s attorney is on his way.” He sneered, trying to rile me up.

There was no reason to address his comment, so I positioned myself against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest. His eyebrows shot up higher at my lack of response. I didn’t owe him anything. I especially wasn’t going to argue with him. So, I met his stare with the same level of discontent that he gave me. If he thought he could intimidate me, he could try his best. I wouldn’t go down easy.

I cracked my neck from side to side, gearing myself up for a long fucking night. This was going to take hours.

I cleared my throat and lifted my chin to Charlotte. “They’re going to be awhile. What do you want to do?”

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