Page 157 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“Yes, of course. I must say, you look completely different in this get-up, Jaine. Next, you’ll be telling me you arrived here on a motorcycle.” He smirks at me.

“Why else would I be wearing leathers?”

It would appear I’ve rendered the DA speechless. It’s understandable. He’s used to seeing me in a tailored business suit and stilettos and, more often than not, being chauffeur driven around in an everything-proof SUV.

I walk past him, taking in the monochrome space. It’s immaculate, which is what I fully anticipated. Workwise, everything with Nate is organized and precise. It’s only to be expected that he carries that trait into his personal life too.

I turn to face him, watching as his eyes rise from my ass level. He makes no attempt to disguise the fact that he was checking me out.

He grins once more, his auburn hair perfectly groomed as usual, his eyes smiling and blue against a face that gets better looking with age.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you out of a suit too, Nate.” I take in the black jeans and white fitted t-shirt he’s wearing on his six-three athletic build frame.

“Please sit, Jaine.” He motions toward the black leather three-seater couch. “Drink?”

“No, thank you.” Taking a seat, I watch as he fixes himself a whiskey before sitting beside me.

“Firstly, I’d like to say how sorry I am, Jaine.”

His sincere apology causes tears to prick my eyes. I know immediately what he’s referring to. The fact that we now have a suspect for Ace’s death.

I nod but say nothing. What’s there to say? I opened my mouth, my husband got shot as a result, and now he’s dead.

I wait for him to speak further. As soon as I received the brief synopsis from Jessie, I immediately forwarded it on, names, etc., withheld obviously.

“The document I received contains a great level of detail, Jaine, but if you want my unbiased personal opinion, it’s not enough. It could see us drag these people into court only for them to then walk free. A lot of the information relates to a grudge held against you personally and to an ambition by these people to overthrow the Dusters and then assume their organization and their mantle.”

His answer is what I expected. While it’s enough for the O’Connells to know who is responsible, it’s not enough for it to ever stand up in court.

“What do you need?”

“Ideally, a confession.”

I snort. “And how do you expect anyone to obtain that, Nate?”

He smiles at me, displaying dazzling white teeth. “That’s not really my problem now, is it? You want my help. Then you need to give me something tangible to work with. I’m not in the habit of taking on cases I have zero chance of winning. You typically represent these sorts. You know as well as I do that if it’s not concrete, they’ll walk. All we’ll have succeeded in doing is rattling a mafia hornet’s nest.”

I close my eyes and rub my hand over my tired face.

“The alternative, of course, is that we let the mobsters handle it between themselves, but that could see a lot of guilty parties scattering to the wind. We both know what will then happen is they’ll regroup and come back bigger and stronger and with an unquenchable thirst for vengeance.”

He pauses. “I’m sorry, Jaine. I wish I had better news….”

“I understand. It’s what I half expected you to say.”

He stands, leaves the room, then comes back to join me, passing me a device as he retakes his seat. I stare at it in my hand. It’s similar to a small round watch battery.

“Now, this remains strictly between you and me, Jaine.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a state-of-the-art recording device.”

“What do you expect me to do with it?”

“I want you to get me a recorded confession.”

I watch as he flips it over. “Just press the back, and the red light will come on. Then it's voice-activated. You can carry it on your person, or you can swallow it. Everything from the point of activation will then be recorded. It will also transmit to my phone in real-time.”

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