Tartlet (Turf Wars #4) Page 11

  He never wanted me to plant that evidence, he wanted me to take it and have it on me so he could have me arrested.

  My father.

  My own father.

  By the time we arrive at the station for processing, the tears have dried up and the anger has set in. I don’t say a word as they put me through and take me to an interview room where two officers come in. A woman and a dark man. They’re both friendly enough looking, I’m guessing detectives. They sit across from me, and I place my cuffed hands on the table.

  I won’t break.

  My father won’t get away with this.

  So help me god, I’m getting out of here.

  “Gabriella Cutter, is that correct?” the woman asks.

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Officer Sheryl, and this is Officer Quinn. We’re going to be conducting your interview today.”

  They go over my rights, and then we get started.

  “Can you please explain to us how you know Constance Hayes?”

  “I don’t,” I say, my voice firm. “I’ve never met her.”

  “We have reason to believe otherwise. Evidence was found in your possession tonight, evidence that links you directly to the crime.”

  “What evidence would that be?”

  They glance at each other. “Her phone, necklace, and a few items of clothing. All blood stained. The phone has your fingerprints on it.”

  How in the ever-loving fuck are my fingerprints on it? How is that possible? How the hell would that happen? My mind spins as I try to figure out what the actual fuck is happening right now.

  “I have never met her in my life. You’ve got the wrong person; my father is the one you should be looking at.”

  “Care to explain that more?”

  I tell them everything I know, from start to finish. I give every ounce of information. Including my searches on my laptop recently and my argument with my father tonight. They write the entire lot down, asking questions as I go, and when I’m done, they both nod.

  “We’ll be questioning those involved, but at this stage, you’ll be held until we have proof otherwise.”

  “You’re sending me to prison?” I gasp.

  “If you’re approved for bail, you will be released. If not, you’ll be held until a trial can be arranged.”

  “What trial? I didn’t do anything. I swear to god. I’ve never met her in my life. Go and ask her family, her friends, do your damned jobs.’

  The two of them stand, and Sheryl looks at me. “We’ll do our jobs, you have my word.”

  Her eyes, a little kind, soften. Maybe she believes me? If she believes me, will she prove my father is lying?

  God.

  How the hell am I going to escape this?

  What has he done to me?

  “ARE YOU OKAY?” EVE asks, sitting across from me the next day at a table in the meeting area.

  She’s with Riggs and Remy, both of them have come in to try and figure out where to go from here. I have a meeting with the detectives again after this, but right now, my mind is as fuzzy as they come. I can’t think, I can’t do anything but try to figure out why the hell my own father would do something like this to me.

  I don’t understand.

  We’re not close, but his own daughter.

  He would see me go down for murder ... Fucking murder?

  I don’t understand.

  “I’m okay,” I say, shrugging even though it feels like a weight is bearing down on my chest constantly. “I haven’t been assaulted yet, so that’s something. I’m sure I’d make a good prison bitch for someone out there ...”

  “Now’s not the time to joke, kid,” Remy mutters.

  “What else is there to do?” I say, meeting his gaze. “My own father literally put me in jail for murder. I’m not certain there is much else I can do.”

  “What you can do is tell us everything you know,” Riggs informs me. “Every fuckin’ thing you can think of.”

  “I suspected it was my father, but he wasn’t alone. My brother had something to do with it, I’m sure of it. I overheard them talking about cleaning out the basement. I went in there to check things out and there were these shackles on the wall. I’m telling you, my father and brother did this, I just don’t know what they did with her ... her body.”

  “You take any pictures, get anything?” Remy asks me.

  I shake my head. “I didn’t honestly know it would come to this. They asked ... they asked me to plant that evidence on your club,” I admit. “I wasn’t going to, I took it because I wanted to see what they were trying to get rid of. I was going to make sure they went down for what they did, but as always, my father was one step ahead of me. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

  Riggs stares at me for a minute. “Why would he plant it on the club?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, because you’re in his town and he doesn’t want you here.”

  “He said that?” Remy asks.

  “We’re getting off track,” Eve interrupts. “We can discuss that part of it when Gabby is home, until then, we need to figure out how the hell to get her home.”

  “My brother,” I say, carefully. “He’s the only other one who knows. Make a deal with him, do something, get him to agree to tell the police everything. If he can get immunity for confessing ...”

  “Your brother ain’t goin’ to do jack shit,” Remy growls. “He is as selfish as your father.”

  I close my eyes. “Someone told the cops about my father and Constance. He was freaking out, yelling at Brad and saying it was him, but Brad made it clear he wasn’t the one to tell the cops. Which mean someone else knows.”

  “Any idea who that might be?” Riggs asks.

  I shake my head. “It could be anyone, but if I were to start somewhere, I’d start with Becky and Magnus.”

  Riggs nods. “We’ll find out what we can. In the meantime, you don’t tell them shit. Keep your head down and let us figure this out.”

  I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.

  “You good?” Remy asks.

  I look up at him. “My own father put me in prison. I’m not great.”

  “We’ll get you outta here, babe. I promise you that.”

  Eve nods. “We will.”

  “Time’s up,” the guard yells.

  The three of them stand. Remy holds my eyes for a long moment, and then they all leave. I’m escorted straight to the questioning room where I meet with the same two detectives as last night. I sit across from them, and Sheryl smiles at me, her face kind. Quinn keeps a stony face, but he doesn’t look mean, just smart.

  “How are you feeling, Gabriella?”

  “My father had me locked up for a crime he committed because he’s powerful and god damned rich. How do you think I’m going?”

  Sheryl nods. “We want you to see if you recognize any of this stuff.”

  She opens a bag and pulls out a cell phone. It’s small and black, and I know for certain it isn’t mine.

  “Have you seen this phone anywhere before?”

  I stare at it. It’s hard to tell when it has a blank screen. I rack my brain trying to come up with anything I can, anything I could be missing. I’m taken back to a few nights ago when I was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. My father yelled out at me to get him the phone off the kitchen counter. I picked it up and took it to him. This phone looks a whole lot like that one.

  It clicks.

  That’s how he got my fingerprints on it.

  All along, this was his plan?

  To let me go down for this crime?

  Oh, my god.

  I look up at Sheryl and a tear rolls down my cheek as the reality of the situation sinks in. “My father asked me to pick up that phone and take it to him a few days ago. It was on the kitchen bench. He never asks me for anything. I should have known. I ... oh god.”

  Sheryl nods, writing it down. “We need you to tell us anything you can. Anything at all.”

  I go over everything w
ith them again. The basement, my searches, everything I can tell them about Constance and what I’ve learned about her.

  “We have retrieved your laptop, there are a lot of searches for Constance on there, which could be used against you,” Sheryl informs me.

  “If you pay attention to those, you’ll see I was searching for what happened to her, I was typing in her name with my father’s. If I did it, why the hell would I need to know all of that. I know you don’t believe me ...”

  “I never said I don’t believe you,” Sheryl tells me. “We’re just doing our job.”

  So they do believe me?

  “We’re requesting information from your father’s cameras and other personal information,” Quinn tells me. “He’s not happy about it, we’re hoping we’ll find something.”

  “My brother,” I say softly. “He knows what happened. You need to talk to him.”

  “We’ll be questioning him and your sister this afternoon. Your father is refusing to pay for a lawyer, but one can be appointed to you from the state,” Sheryl tells me.

  I laugh bitterly and shake my head. “You know what, I don’t care. Just don’t let him get away with this.”

  They talk to me for another grueling two hours, before finally letting me go back to my cell. We’re waiting to see if I’ll make bail before I’m moved to a bigger prison, a prison where I’m certain I won’t be treated nicely. If people think I murdered an innocent young girl, I’ll be slaughtered.

  I lie on my bed, close my eyes, and for the first time in my life, I pray.

  God dammit, let that piece of shit I call a father go down, just like he deserves.

  Please.

  Don’t let him get away with this.

  13

  I MADE BAIL.

  My judge must have been in a good mood, because she ordered that I could be released on bail, but the conditions are that I have to check in twice a day, I can’t go near my father’s house, and I have to wear a god damned ankle monitor. Still, it means I get out of here until they can make their next move. The club pays the bail, without a second thought, and I’m processed and released from the prison.

  Sheryl tells me she’ll be in touch and they’ll be investigating further, but at this stage me being charged with murder for simply having an evidence bag on me, isn’t enough yet. Not when there is so much other evidence pointing to my father. He’s trying his best, of that I have no doubt, and I’m no way near free, but at least I have the chance now to find a way to get him down for this.

  I might not be able to go near him, but I sure as hell will fight until I’m locked up again.

  I won’t let him walk away freely from this.

  “Hey,” Remy says when I’m released from the prison. “Lookin’ pretty fine with that ankle bracelet.”

  I flip him the bird. “I’m pretty much still confined to a damn cell, but at least I can help you all find evidence my father did this now.”

  “You’re stayin’ with me, by the way.”

  I blink. “Wait, what?”

  “Gotta keep you safe, your father finds out you’re free and he might just do somethin’ stupid. We’re not riskin’ that. The garage is still within your boundary from my house, so it’s the best option if you want to get back to your life just a little.”

  Dammit.

  He’s going to make me cry.

  I’m not a crier.

  “I appreciate it, really.”

  He shrugs. “I find prison girls sexy, somethin’ about their newfound toughness ...”

  I laugh and shove his shoulder. “You just wait to see what I can do with handcuffs ...”

  He chuckles. “Your friend has been lookin’ for you, I told him we were pickin’ you up today. Prison wouldn’t let him visit.”

  I shake my head. “My friend?”

  “Cowboy.”

  “Oh,” I laugh. “Rhett.”

  “Yeah, that guy.”

  “He’s not just my friend, he’s my best friend, and you’re going to have to get along because I don’t do life without him.”

  Remy looks at me. “Whatever, but I don’t have to be nice.”

  “You do.”

  “I don’t.”

  We get into his truck, and I close the door, thankful to be out of there.

  “Did Riggs find anything out?”

  “Nothin’ yet, your father keeps things close to the chest, but we’re tryin’ to get hold of Becky. She’s MIA, but when we find her, she’ll be the first person we talk to.”

  Becky hates me. She’s not going to say a damned word.

  Still, they have to do what they have to do.

  We arrive at the clubhouse, which is still in my little radar, and I climb out of the truck. Eve, Ramona, and Poppy rush over and hug me, holding onto me so hard I can’t breathe, but god damn, it makes me feel better.

  “Come on, guys,” I say, pulling back. “I didn’t even get violated in there, I’m okay.”

  Ramona laughs. “Only you, girl.”

  I smile at her. “Got to make some light of the situation.”

  “You’re a better woman than me,” Poppy says. “Man, if that was my father, I’d be planning his murder.”

  “Oh,” I say, eyes widening, “you think I’m not?”

  They all laugh.

  “Come on, let’s go talk to Riggs and the guys and then I’m taking you to Wildflowers and feeding you until you pop,” Eve says, putting her arm around my shoulder.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  We head inside the clubhouse and to the meeting room where everyone is already sitting, discussing things. This club doesn’t have to help me, they owe me nothing, and yet they’re all pulling together and doing what they can. I’m ashamed I ever agreed to betray them. They didn’t deserve that. God, if they found out ...

  I shake my head.

  “How’re you doin’?” Riggs asks me when I sit down.

  “Outside of my new fashion band, I’m fine,” I say, pointing to my ankle.

  “Always wondered what one of them looked like.” Hugh nods. “Very nice.”

  I laugh. “Thanks, I think it’ll look nice with a pair of jeans and some boots.”

  He grins at me.

  “So,” Riggs says, getting right to it, “we’re still tryin’ to get hold of Becky, and your brother hasn’t left your father’s house since you were arrested. Chances are he’s suckin’ up big time, so he’s goin’ to be no use to us.”

  “I could have told you that. Becky won’t give a crap, either.”

  “I think you’re wrong,” Beckett says. “I know she’s your sister and you know her better than me, but I don’t think she’ll want you to go away for this.”

  How sweet he thinks she’s that kind. Her act really got to him. I feel for him, believing that shit, but he doesn’t know her like I do. There is no way, no way in hell, that she would ever do anything to help me. I’m in this one with the club and that’s it, I have to figure it out myself.

  “Look, I appreciate what you’re saying, but Becky isn’t going to help me.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  I turn my head and see the one and only standing at the door, alone. She studies the large group of bikers, her eyes zoning in on Beckett. He looks to Poppy, who looks like she might just throw down right there and then, but she keeps it together.

  “I called her,” Beckett says.

  I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Then I open them and look right at my sister. “If you’re not here to help, Becky, then you need to leave. Dad has already done enough damage.”

  “I know what he’s done, and I don’t agree with it. Which is why I haven’t been home and I haven’t been contacting people. I know what Dad did. I was the one who told the police to look at him. What I didn’t know is that he’d pin it on you.”

  I blink, slowly. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

  “You told the police?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yes. What happened to that gir
l, it was a monstrous act, and he shouldn’t be able to get away with it. I might not like you, Gabriella, but I’m not going to watch you go to prison either.”

  “Oh, how sweet,” I mutter.

  “If you don’t want my help ...”

  “Wait,” I mutter, exhaling. “Of course I don’t want to go to prison, but excuse me if I don’t trust you and what you’re saying.”

  “Okay, okay,” Riggs says, putting his hands up. “We’re runnin’ out of time here so let’s get this figured out. Becky, tell us exactly what you know.”

  She takes a deep breath, and her face actually looks like what she’s about to say bothers her. That terrifies me, because whatever they did to Constance has clearly fucked with her head, and it’s about to fuck with ours.

  “I didn’t know at first, the only way I found out was because I accidentally went into the basement one day ... and there was this girl, all bloodied and half dead. I freaked out and Dad told me that they’d found her, and didn’t know what to do. I was begging them to call the police, to take her to a hospital, but they just dragged me out. He told me they did take her in, and she was okay, but then a few weeks later I saw Constance missing and I figured it out. I knew they’d done something, so I confronted him. He told me if I so much as breathed a word, he’d take me down with him. He’d make sure that I went to prison. I believed him, of course I did, I knew how powerful he is. So, I never said another word, until now ...”

  I feel sick, my stomach twists as I think about what that poor girl endured.

  “What actually happened to her?” I whisper.

  Becky looks away, her eyes glazing over with unshed tears. “It was a hit and run, without the run part. She was walking home from a party, and Dad was driving with Brad. They were arguing and I guess Constance was too far out onto the road. They didn’t see her. They hit her. But ... she wasn’t dead. They freaked out and took her, putting her in the basement. She was alive at that point, and she freaked out, screaming and yelling, telling them she would tell the police everything. They chained her up and then ... she must have had some sort of internal bleeding. They went in one day and she was ... she was ...”