Page 101 of Faded Gray Lines
“Eat shit.”
“No thanks,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “I had a pretty big breakfast.” Picking up the folder, he tapped it against his palm. “Tell you what, hand over what you stole from Diaz, and maybe I won’t leave her in a holding cell.”
I stared at him with new eyes, understanding him now more than ever. That was the thing with men like Atwood—get them talking long enough and eventually they tipped their hand.
No one but Val and Bright knew I’d taken the flash drive from Hector’s apartment.
And only two other people knew what was on it.
“What could Diaz have had that you wanted so badly, Atwood?” I felt relaxed for the first time in five hours, and I suspected, for the first time in five hours, Alex Atwood didn’t.
“Something that could free both of us,” he conceded.
* * *
Houston’s official “on-call” Carrera counsel sat across from me, flipping through papers and making unpleasant grunting noises every time he read something he didn’t like. By the fifth groan and dramatic sigh, I wanted to grab the end of his sblue and white striped tie and choke him with it.
“Why is he here?” I grumbled.
Glancing up from his own stack of papers, Brody glared at me over the wire rims of his glasses. “I called him because you’re a moron and talked to the DEA without a lawyer present.”
I shrugged. “Not my first rodeo.”
“That’s because you’re a gigantic bull’s ass,” he muttered, readjusting his glasses and returning to his files.
I didn’t know whether to punch him or laugh. The Brody Harcourt Val had blackmailed a little over a year ago was a far cry from the Carrera lieutenant sitting in front of me in a private counsel room at the Houston PD.
“You do realize I’m still your boss, right?”
“Speaking of bosses,” he said, taking off his glasses, “I called Val.”
“You...what?”
He held up his hand. “I wanted him to hear this from me before it made its way to Mexico. I also told him all they have is circumstantial evidence.”
“You told Val? Fuck, Brody! If he finds out it was Leighton who caused this, he’ll kill her.”
“Val doesn’t hurt women,” he repeated, his face paling.
Idiota!
“No, but he eliminates traitors. How do you think he’ll see Leighton after what she said to Atwood?”
I didn’t want to be right. It made me physically sick to watch the reality of our world register on Brody’s face because I knew the same truth was plastered across mine. Depending on what happened in the next few hours, he may have just gotten his sister killed.
“Shit. What do we do?” he asked, both hands fisting his blond hair. “They’re holding you until Leighton gives her statement. Once you’re charged and booked, Leighton will be subpoenaed.”
I had no idea what bullshit Atwood was feeding Leighton. I just hoped she believed in us enough to not fall for it. “You’re the ADA,” I countered. “You tell me what we should do.”
The asshole lawyer cleared his throat. “May I interject here—”
“No!” Brody and I shouted at the same time.
Frustrated, Brody pushed out of his chair and paced the room. “I’m not on the inside, Mateo. Because of my affiliation with Leighton, they won’t let me try the case.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” I said, dropping my head back. “The cartel will blow wide open, and you’ll go down too.”
“Too bad it’s not the movies,” he quipped, not breaking a stride in his incessant pacing.
