Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
My attorneys tried. My father pulled out all his Cooper Steel clout and all his money…but someone was going down for killing this up-and-coming police officer.
I knew only that it wasn’t going to be either of my brothers, so I was the only one left.
My brothers wouldn’t have survived prison.
Hawk would have gotten stronger for sure, but at nineteen, big and muscled though he was, he would have been seen as fresh meat with that cleanshaven face of his. He’d have gotten hurt before he was able to fight back.
And Eagle? At seventeen he’d have gone to juvie and then transferred to the adult prison on his eighteenth birthday. Ex-juvies don’t have an easy time in adult prison. Eighteen-year-olds are kids as far as prisoners are concerned, and kids can’t hack that life.
If the poor guy hadn’t been a cop, I’ve no doubt my father could have made this all go away. Or the worst Eagle would have gotten was a few months in juvie.
But Jaden Perez was a cop. Not only that, he was a new husband with a baby on the way. He worked as a youth counselor at his church, and he’d just lost both of his parents in a car accident.
He was the poster boy for “someone has to pay for this.”
That someone was me.
I had no other choice.
I didn’t fire the shot, but it came from my gun.
And I was the only one who could survive what was coming.
My attorney, Lola Briggs, is dressed in a tight-ass navy blue suit. I hate suits on women. I’m not overly fond of them on men, either. They’re uncomfortable as hell. I loosen my tie a bit…or try to. It doesn’t help. I still feel my throat tightening, as if a boa constrictor is squeezing the breath out of me. Snakes are always bad news.
Lola though, is good news. She’s worked for my family for twenty years, and she’s a fucking shark. But even she couldn’t save me the last time.
This time I’m actually guilty, though not of a crime.
“If the question can be answered with yes or no,” Lola says to me, “that’s all you say.”
I nod. “Got it.”
“If I tell you not to answer, you don’t.”
“Got it.”
“They’ll try to bait you, Falcon. They’ll make you want to defend yourself. Still, if I say don’t answer, you don’t.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I salute.
“Leave the jokes outside,” Lola says. “They won’t serve you well in here. As far as these detectives are concerned, you’re a confessed killer already. That’s how they’re going to treat you.”
“I served my time for that one.”
“You did. But that’s not what cops see. Once a con, always a con.”
I nod, drawing in a breath.
She’s right. I hate it, but she’s right.
The two suits enter, one male, one female. Lola and I rise, and Lola holds out her hand first to the woman, her eyebrows noticeably raised.
“Gina, Marvin, good to see you. This is Falcon Bellamy. Falcon, Detectives Gina Mulvaney and Marv Ericson.”
I don’t shake hands, simply nod.
“Please sit back down.” Detective Mulvaney takes a seat on the other side of the empty table and Detective Ericson sits next to her. Both have manilla folders and iPads.
Detective Mulvaney clears her throat. “Mr. Bellamy, I’m sure your attorney has advised you that this is simple routine questioning. You’re not under arrest or even a suspect at this time.”
“I understand.”
“Good. Now, could you begin by telling me when you first noticed the two victims—”
“Excuse me.” Lola interjects. “Victims? They were trespassers.”
“It’s simply a word, Lola.”
“Words have meaning, Gina. One is recovering, and the other didn’t make it. However, we don’t even know yet what the cause of his death was.”
“We do now.” Mulvaney slides a document across the table to Lola. “Official cause of death is a brain bleed, caused by the blow to the head the victim received by your client.”
“The trespasser also had a history of concussion and the bleed wasn’t even noticed on the initial MRI,” Lola counters as she scans the document. “Nothing in this report says the blow to the head Mr. Josephs received was the cause of death.”
“We think we can prove that it was.”
I stiffen. “This is outrageous.”
“Falcon…” Lola nudges me.
“Are you kidding me? This derelict comes onto my property, holds me at gunpoint, threatens my friend and my dog, and—”
“Falcon!” This time she’s harsh.
I shut up.
“We’re going to go through all that, Mr. Bellamy,” Mulvaney says. “But at this time, we believe we can prove that the blow to the head that you’ve already admitted to was the cause of Mr. Josephs’s death. That doesn’t mean you’re under arrest or even will be under arrest.”
“You may address me, Gina.” Lola shoots darts at Mulvaney with her eyes. “I’m speaking for my client until I tell him otherwise.”
Say what?
Whatever. Lola’s good. I’ll go with it.