Golden Trail

  Cal cut his eyes to Layne and Layne watched his friend’s lips twitch while he pressed his own together.

  Then Layne looked to Tyler. “What’s it gonna be?”

  Tyler stared at him again then his eyes did a sweep of Cal and Jasper.

  Then he flipped open his phone, pressed a few buttons, put it to his ear and after a few beats, said, “Mom?”

  * * * * *

  Colt and Sully left the interrogation room, both their jaws tight, their faces hard.

  They left behind Tyler Berger and his father Travis. Travis Berger was probably an inch shorter than Layne but no less fit. But whereas Layne worked at being lean and strong, Travis Berger worked at bulk and intimidation. The man was a brute in a suit and his son was definitely a Mama’s Boy. Layne reckoned Tyler got to be a punk because Dad worked long hours, Mom was a pushover and Dad wasn’t all that thrilled with the results of his inattention but his priorities were fucked. One look at those two and it was evident that career was definitely more important than family. Watching them for half an hour, it wasn’t only evident, it was definite. Travis Berger barely knew his boy and what he knew he didn’t like much.

  Cal and Layne were both in the observation room and the air was thick and volatile. They’d watched Colt and Sully work the kid and they’d done it in silence. The silence was because even a word could spark the invisible fuse in the room and when it did, that fuse was short and, once lit, the room would explode.

  Travis had let Colt and Sully go all out on his boy, he hadn’t intervened once. He was now standing in the corner, staring down his nose at his son, legs planted wide, arms crossed on his barrel chest, face a mask of pissed way the fuck off.

  The door barely closed on Sully when Travis spoke. “What’d I say?”

  Layne watched Tyler stare at the table in front of him but he whispered, “Dad –”

  “Three strikes,” Travis cut him off. “I told you after you kept fuckin’ around and didn’t listen to me, you had three strikes left. Now, one was that pot I found in your room two weeks ago. Two was that fuckin’ party and I saw your Mom’s Royal Doulton smashed, Ty. To bits. She loves that shit. God knows what other damage was done. I work hard, Ty, I work fuckin’ hard to give you and your Mom nice things, I go away for work and come home and I get this?” He sucked in breath, his face twisted with rage, gearing up for the worst part and he continued. “And three is you drugging Joe fuckin’ Callahan’s daughter in order to get in her pants.”

  Layne had been right. Tyler had been hiding something and what he’d been hiding was that Cosgrove gave him the drug to frame Jasper. He was supposed to give it to Keira, lead her away, get her in a compromising position, “find her” and tell everyone, including the cops, he saw Jas do it. Considering he’d given her Rohypnol, even Keira wouldn’t have known who slipped her the drug or what happened to her because she wouldn’t have remembered. Jasper would have been fucked, his future ruined, his reputation destroyed and he’d lose his girl.

  Cosgrove didn’t go so far as to tell Tyler to compromise Keira, just to remove her shirt and undo her jeans. Under not-so-delicate pressure from Colt and we’re-all-men-we-get-it bullshitting from Sully, Tyler had given up that he felt this was a golden opportunity he wasn’t going to pass up. His intention was to take advantage of Keira who he suggested, lamely and by no means convincing anyone in that room, had a thing for him.

  What he didn’t plan on was that Jasper and Keira were as tight as they were and Keira wasn’t big on leaving her boy’s side so she didn’t except to go to the bathroom and, on the way back, accept an ill-advised shot after which she wasted no time in getting back to her boyfriend. He also didn’t plan on Jasper turning the tables and enhancing his reputation by publicly taking care of his girl.

  The door opened and Sully and Colt walked in but Cal and Layne didn’t move, Cal probably couldn’t move for fear he’d commit murder.

  Tyler’s head came up, “But Dad –”

  Travis Berger leaned forward and roared, “Shut the fuck up! Jesus Christ, whose kid are you?” Tyler blanched and Travis threw his hands out then clenched them in fists. “You drugged a girl for fuck’s sake! Who does that?”

  “Dad, Coach Cosgrove said –”

  “I don’t give a fuck what that twat said. Jesus, Ty, Jesus, the man beats his wife and kid. Jesus. You see a man like that, that man hands you an illegal substance, you call the fuckin’ cops, you do not take direction from him! Fuckin’ shit.” Travis shook his head but his eyes didn’t leave his son. “Jesus fuckin’ shit. What do I even do with you? I gotta deal with you and I don’t even wanna look at you.”

  Tyler’s face crumpled and Layne knew he was going to cry. He didn’t need to see that shit so he forced his eyes away, reached out to flip the switch to shut off the audio and looked at Colt.

  “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” he asked and Colt nodded.

  “Yeah, man, but you don’t know what I know,” Colt replied and Layne felt Cal move to position himself at Layne’s side.

  “What do you know?” Cal growled and Colt and Sully looked at him.

  “Hendrick’s County Hospital had seven admissions last night, six females, one male. All unconscious or incoherent on admission for reasons unknown until the test results came back and all of them had been roofied. Last, all of them had been drinkin’ at J&J’s Saloon,” Sully answered.

  Layne shook his head. Cal planted his fists on his hips.

  “Was Cosgrove seen at J&J’s?” Cal asked.

  “Yep, Cheryl clocked him, pointed him out to Darryl and Darryl showed him the door. That said, it was Saturday, it was a madhouse as usual and Cheryl, Morrie, who was also on, nor Darryl know how long he was there before Darryl chucked his ass out,” Colt answered.

  “So, Cosgrove is metin’ out payback. I confronted him, Cal’s providin’ safe harbor for his wife and kid and you’re both sittin’ sentry, that the play?” Layne asked but he knew, that fucking dick, he knew.

  “That’s my guess,” Colt replied.

  “Goes without sayin’, I want his ass in a cell,” Cal snarled.

  “Goes without sayin’,” Colt agreed.

  “Also goes without sayin’ I want that punk-ass piece of shit in that room to face some serious as fuck consequences,” Cal went on, jerking a finger to the observation window.

  “Goes without sayin’,” Colt repeated.

  “Good news on that is, it’s pretty clear his Dad’s feelin’ much the same way,” Sully murmured.

  “No, Sully, he’s not. He’s not feelin’ the same thing I’m feelin’ right… fuckin’… now.” Cal’s voice was a scary whisper.

  “I get you, man,” Sully whispered back but his whisper was conciliatory. “I’m just sayin’ you won’t have a battle on your hands on top of all this shit. He’s not gonna fight his son’s side ‘cause he knows his son doesn’t have a side. He didn’t step in once when we were questioning him. He’s gonna let that boy swing.”

  Cal was silent and so was the rest of the room, everyone stuck with pretty fucking unhappy thoughts.

  Sully broke the silence. “Got shit to do. A bulletin to put out. Bar patrons to interview. Shit like that. Am I gonna be able to get down to that or am I gonna get a busted lip and split knuckles losin’ my fight to lock down you three badasses?”

  Layne and Colt instantly relaxed, Colt’s lips even formed a small smile.

  Cal didn’t think anything was funny. Then again, Cal’s stepdaughter narrowly missed getting raped the night before. It was going to take awhile before Joe Callahan cracked a smile.

  “We’re good, Sul, do your work,” Colt muttered, Sully studied Cal, must have read what he wanted to read, he nodded and walked out.

  Cal turned to Layne. “You straight with your kid?”

  “Yep,” Layne answered.

  “You gonna share that shit?” he jerked a thumb at the observation window.

  “Not sure about that,” Layne replied because he wasn’t
sure. He shared what Tyler Berger and Adrian Cosgrove had planned, Jasper would be uncontrollable. He knew it because that shit happened to Layne, he’d be uncontrollable.

  Cal nodded. “I’ll talk to Vi. Keira’s not only supposed to be off her phone but she’s also grounded until next Monday, no studyin’ at Jasper’s house, no visits from Jasper, no dates. I’m thinkin’ after what went down last night, it wouldn’t be good to keep her from Jasper or Jasper from her. I’ll talk Violet into lettin’ Jasper come over.”

  Translation: I’ve been reminded my girl is vulnerable and it’s been proved your boy has her back so he’s just been recruited to keep having her back indefinitely.

  “Be appreciated,” Layne murmured.

  Cal nodded and walked to the door. Before he opened it, he turned back.

  “Lotta boys would do different, they got a hot, unconscious piece in their car. Lotta boys wouldn’t even bother takin’ her to their car much less makin’ sure she’s safe.”

  “Jasper’s not a lotta boys,” Layne replied.

  Cal held Layne’s eyes. Then he nodded. Then he left.

  “You gotta be all kinds of stupid to fuck with Joe Callahan.” Layne heard Colt mutter and he looked to him to see Colt staring into the interrogation room.

  “He’s seventeen, Colt, his brain is in his dick and you’ve seen Keira. That kid had no shot and he’s not used to not havin’ what he wants and he’s got no qualms about doin’ whatever he feels like doin’ to get what he wants. Cosgrove knows this kid. Cosgrove knew exactly what he was doin’. And Cosgrove’s convinced himself after spendin’ years cowing his wife and son that his balls are big enough he could take on a badass like Joe Callahan. Bad luck that Tyler threw that party and Jasper and Keira gave him his shot.”

  Colt turned to Layne. “You gotta be all kinds a stupid to fuck with Cal but Cal’s retribution would be swift and painful. Yours, man, slow and lasting.” When Layne’s eyes met his friend’s, Colt finished, “What I’m sayin’ is, you’re standin’ here, so I’m guessin’ you’re takin’ this a lot better than I expected.”

  “I started my day with Gabby in my face, spent most the rest of it listenin’ to the masterminds behind a child prostitution ring havin’ a twenty minute conversation and then a lot of nothin’. I got a good kid and he made the right decisions last night which means right now we’re dealin’ with justice not tragedy. I’m feelin’ pretty good about that and I’ve gotta hold onto the good because fuck knows what’s gonna hit next.”

  Colt grinned. “What’s next is, it all eventually goes away and you’re left with wakin’ up next to Raquel Merrick every day and goin’ to sleep next to her every night.”

  Layne grinned back. “Yeah, that’s the plan, except she was there when Gabby came over to throw down this morning and Rocky wasn’t down with that. First time in two decades, brother, I took a moment to reflect on what it would be like to have a shy, retirin’ woman sharin’ my bed.”

  “How long’d that moment last?” Colt asked.

  “About a nanosecond,” Layne answered.

  Colt’s grin got wider as he laughed softly.

  Then Colt quit laughing and his face got serious. “I had shy and retiring. Trust me, brother, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  Layne wasn’t around when Colt was married to Melanie Seivers, who was painfully shy and retiring, but his mother was and the tragic, lost love of Alexander Colton and February Owens was ‘burg lore. That meant Vera Layne and her cronies had spent a lot of time chewing over the fact that Alec Colton and Melanie Seivers were not a match made in heaven. Layne knew this because Vera knew Colt was a friend and she repeatedly shared her cronies’ conclusions. No one was surprised by Colt and Melanie’s divorce. And no one was surprised when Colt hooked back up with February, a woman who was not shy and retiring by any stretch of the imagination.

  “So you got yours, I got mine, what the fuck are we standin’ in a little room for?” Layne asked.

  Colt’s grin came back. “Fuck if I know.”

  “You got anything to brief me about that other shit?” Layne asked, moving toward the door.

  “Nope,” Colt answered, following him and they stopped. “Same as this mornin’. We talked to IMPD and they know all about Nicolette Towers. What they don’t know is where she keeps her stable. We have boys on her tail at all times and she’s steerin’ clear of that location and Rutledge is steerin’ clear of her. He doesn’t leave the ‘burg and he’s been nowhere near her. We’ve clocked her with some of her muscle so we’re puttin’ names and faces to her crew but she’s not leadin’ us to her girls and neither are they.”

  “She know she’s been made?” Layne asked even though she gave no indication of that during her conversation with Jeremy that day.

  “Nope,” Colt shook his head. “Rutledge doesn’t either considering he visited a known prostitute last night, took his twenty minutes, got his blowjob and went.”

  “Got a source that says she’s hands on,” Layne told him.

  “Don’t know what to say, Tanner. We can pull her in on identity theft and hold Jeremy Goulding over her but she’s gonna have to roll over we do that and what I’ve read and what IMPD know, this bitch is made of steel. We’re not gonna break her. We need evidence. You said your man didn’t find the photo shoot photos at her apartment?”

  “Dev found nothing. He had a good amount of time to look and it was clean so he planted the bugs and got out.”

  “Even if he found ‘em, not against the law to take pictures of teenaged girls. It’s not cool but we got nothin’ messy to stick to her.”

  “Jeremy bought us a few more days,” Layne told him. “Heard it when I was listenin’ this morning.”

  “Well, let’s hope she fucks up before he cracks. Read up on him too. Small time con, not too bright, stupid recruit for her but maybe not, since she’s made him nearly the sole face of this shit so he’s also the perfect fall guy. It’s a miracle he hasn’t disintegrated before now.”

  That was precisely what Layne was worried about.

  Colt’s voice dropped lower. “This shit moves a lot faster, your source comes out in the open.”

  “I told you, I told Merry, that can’t happen,” Layne replied just as low.

  “Tanner –”

  “We still have no evidence, we don’t have the location of her stable, we don’t have a lock on her army and we don’t have anything to connect her to Rutledge except the word of a small time con and whatever the fuck Ryker is and Ryker only saw Rutledge visit the apartment once. My girl would be swinging in the wind and, trust me, brother, you’d never hold Towers on the word of my source and without any evidence, she wouldn’t even go to trial. We need patience.”

  “We don’t need patience, Tanner, we need time and I’m guessin’ a coupla days isn’t gonna get us shit. Goulding is gonna cave and she’s gonna bolt.”

  “You got any bright ideas?” Layne asked.

  “Only one I got is not bright, it makes my teeth hurt and leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Colt answered.

  “Set up one of the girls,” Layne muttered.

  “Not gonna happen,” Colt muttered back.

  They shared unhappy silence until Layne broke it. “Patience.”

  “Prayer,” Colt returned. “They used God, let’s hope He feels motivated to lend us a hand.”

  “I’ll get Vera on that,” Layne offered.

  “Yeah,” Colt replied, one side of his mouth up in half a grin.

  Layne opened the door and walked out.

  Colt followed.

  Layne nodded to men he knew as he walked through the bullpen on his way to the backstairs. He pulled out his cell as he jogged down the stairs and was out the door and nearing the Mercedes when Rocky picked up his call.

  “Hey sweetheart,” she answered.

  “Hey baby, where are you?”

  She’d called and told him that Spike had relieved her, she’d gone down to Mimi’s, ran into Feb and since she w
as rideless and Layne was busy, she and Feb were going to hang.

  “At Vi’s. Where are you?”

  “On my way to Vi’s,” he replied, folding into her car.

  He heard her soft laugh then it went away and she asked, “Everything okay?”

  “It will be.”

  A pause and then, “That’s not a great answer, Layne.”

  “Best I can do for now, sweetcheeks. I’ll brief you when we get home. Is it your house or mine tonight?”

  “Mine,” she replied immediately.

  “You don’t like the toothbrush Jas bought you?”

  She burst out laughing and Layne listened to it thinking Rocky’s laughter made a day of good and bad turn mostly good again.

  When she got it under control, she answered, “No. My house doesn’t have Devin and Vera in it.”

  Oh shit.

  “I thought you and Mom were cool.”

  There was nothing for a few beats and then he knew why when she spoke quietly. She’d been looking for privacy.

  “Vera and I are cool. But not so cool I suspect she’ll be happy to hear her son making me moan and I enjoy you, baby, but I don’t want to court suffocation every time we have sex.”

  This meant Layne was going to get him some that night. This wasn’t surprising, eighteen years had done nothing to shear even a layer off Roc’s sexual appetite, or Layne’s. But that didn’t mean the promise of it didn’t feel fucking great.

  Shit, it was almost over but the day kept getting better.

  “Good call,” Layne muttered and twisted the key in the ignition.

  “See you soon,” she replied.

  “Absolutely.”

  Layne flipped his phone shut, put the Mercedes in gear and backed out of his parking spot.

  Then he flipped his phone open, scrolled down to Jasper’s number and told his son just enough so his boy would sleep in peace that night.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Man You Would Become

  Monday, 5:12 a.m.

  “Layne,” Rocky breathed, one of her hands in his hair, cupping the back of his head tight, one of her arms caught under his body, her fingers curled into his ass.