Page 65 of The Trust We Broke
Atom rubs a hand over his forehead. “Not a hundred percent sure. I was out in the fields this morning. When I heard the sirens, I rode over here but stayed on this side of my property line.”
“You managed to speak with any of them?”
He shakes his head. “Looks like we’re about to get some insight any second.”
The lead FBI agent is a woman in an ill-fitting gray pantsuit and salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a tight bun. “Zachary Williams?” she asks.
“Who’s asking?”
“Special Agent Marling. I’d like you to come with me so we can ask you some questions.”
“Let me see the warrant,” I say, remembering Lucy’s words.
Marling grins. “Showed it to one of your…colleagues.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Yeah, well, that’s not me. You want to talk to me, you’re gonna have to hand me a piece of paper that says I’m specifically mentioned in the warrant.”
Marling moves toward the fence, but Atom puts his hand out to stop her. “Not gonna happen unless you get a warrant to step onto my land. By the time you have that kind of paperwork, he’ll be somewhere within a twenty-thousand-acre radius. Hope you got plenty of resources.”
One of her supporting agents puts his hands on the fence. Both Atom and I look straight at them, and he snatches them away.
“You got some questions for me, they’re gonna have to wait until my lawyer gets here,” I say. “Same with all those men.”
She smirks, like she knows something I don’t. “Those men are adults and can speak for themselves. Their choice to speak before they have lawyers is theirs alone.”
Atom steps over to his horse, unties the rope, jumps on the beast with an agility that appears to surprise Special Agent Marling, and rides up the hill, staying on this side of the fence. When he gets right to the corner closest to the clubhouse, he cups his mouth. “Don’t fight back or talk without a lawyer. She’s on her way.”
Marling looks at me. “What happened to Nolan Deeks that you are now president?”
I cross my arms across my chest. “Why are you raiding my clubhouse?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
I huff. “Not the way it works.”
“Probable cause is a viable reason to search a place like this.”
I grin at that. “Which means, you’re fishing.” I hope the clubhouse is clean. Thankfully, we just moved the weed we’d grown, down to Big Daddy’s, because he needed it a day earlierthan usual. And our weapons store is back up the hill in a concrete underground chamber. Could some of the guys have illegal and unregistered weapons on them? Maybe.
Then, I remember there’s one in the seat of my bike, which is parked right next to Marling. It’s a misdemeanor class one, if caught. Typically leads to a fine of a thousand bucks or, at worst, a year in jail.
I’m praying that Lucy can find something, some technicality, to get this off our backs.
Marling looks at my leather jacket like it’s dirt. “You think the FBI wastes time and resources on an investigation like this if they don’t have shit on you?”
“All the fucking time.”
One of the agents behind Marling steps forward. He’s younger, but wearing a pair of dark sunglasses so I can’t see his eyes. “We got a tip off from a credible source, tells us you’re in the illegal drug trade.”
It always works. Say nothing, and they eventually reveal their hand to get you to reveal yours.
But what he said has me concerned. There are numerous reasons why. We could have a rat. Maybe one of the new prospects or members are getting leaned on because of something they’ve done.
If it had been a regular week, we’d have been holding all of Big Daddy’s illegal weed.
The past year, a lot of our enemies’ activities have spilled into the town. The attack on Margie’s diner and the burning of Ember’s bar.
Perhaps someone has been running their mouth off at the wrong time or place.
