Unlawful Seizure (Filthy Florida Alphas Book 1) (21 page)

I
t’s that sick feeling you have in the pit of your stomach; that refuses to let you go. That fear that threatens to buckle your knees and choke you with each step you take into the unknown. The slamming of your heart against your ribcage, so powerful, it is physically painful and the roaring of your own blood echoing in your ears. That’s what today is to me. Each step I take into the police station is agony.

We started this charade yesterday. This is day two. I’m being questioned as a follow-up to the report I filed yesterday.

“Ms. Oliver,” the portly officer at the front desk says. They know me, of course, it doesn’t even matter that I was here yesterday. Everyone knows me because my face has been plastered on the television. I’m wearing black dress pants, a red dress shirt with matching heels and big clunky sunglasses. My hair is pulled back in a reserved, austere look, and I appear to be every inch the cold legal professional—at least on the outside. On the inside, I’m a freaking mess.

It’s no coincidence that I am dressed almost exactly, the way I was, the day I met Max. That’s my signal to him. I don’t even know if I’ll get to see him today, but I’m hoping. He turned himself in yesterday. Marcum has a cop on his payroll, several really, but this one is a detective, and Marcum and Max decided this would be the cop who would take Max into custody. Detective Slater is a nice, older guy, and he treated Max with the utmost respect. I hope that continued, even after Max was arrested again, but I somehow doubt it. Today, I’m being interviewed, by Officer Slater’s partner; Detective Jake De Luca. He is everything that Officer Slater is not. He’s probably Max’s age or younger, he’s got jet black hair that’s trimmed close at the bottom and neat, a little thicker on the top, but styled so that not a strand is out of place. His body is muscled and well defined, in a way that if a girl wasn’t so in love with Max, she might look and enjoy looking, more. He’s got an Italian-New-Yorker-transplant accent, and his voice is deep. I don’t know how he ended up in Florida, or what his story is. The only thing I do know is that Detective De Luca doesn’t like me—or at the very least, he doesn’t believe me.

“I have a three o’clock appointment,” I tell guy at the front desk, but before I can finish, the Detective is standing in front of me.

“Ms. Oliver,” he says looking me over, and the way he looks at me makes me feel as if I have a piece of spinach on my teeth.

“Detective De Luca,” I acknowledge, trying my best to sound my most condescending.

“If you will follow me,” he says, clearly unimpressed.

“Your bodyguard can wait out here,” Detective De Luca says when we reach the outside of the small interrogation room.

“And you can go fuck yourself, Boy-o. I’m sticking close to my daughter in law,” Marcum says, and I can’t help but smile. He hasn’t let me out of his sight since Max left.

“I wasn’t aware that Ms. Oliver and Mr. Kincaid had gotten married.”

“We haven’t yet. Max felt he needed to pay his debt to society first, detective,” I respond.

“Clearly,” he says sarcastically.

His whole attitude is setting me off. I’m doing my best to hold my tongue. Alienating these people will not help Max. I need to get my man home. Marcum and I sit down at a table and wait while Detective De Luca closes the door. He sits down with a yellow legal pad and a pen.

“Before we get started can I get either of you a drink? Soda? Coffee?”

The detective has his own cup of coffee sitting on the table. The smell of it, combined with my nerves is getting to me, so I immediately motion my head no. Marcum doesn’t bother to answer. He’s leaning back in his seat appearing bored as hell. I envy him because I am a step away from screaming like a banshee. There’s silence for a couple of minutes while the detective sifts through papers. I’m think he’s doing it to make sure my nerves kill me. That’s what it feels like.

“I have a doctor’s appointment in an hour,” I tell him, to hurry this along when it becomes apparent I may die of old age before he starts. Marcum reaches behind me and rubs my back soothingly. It almost makes me smile. Max would hate it, but he is so much like his dad. I wonder if I have a son if he will be like the two of them. There are definitely worse things that could happen.

“Oh, that’s right. I had forgotten. You and your abductor are having a child together.”

It takes everything I have, not to flinch at his coldly delivered statement.

“Max did not abduct me. We’ve been over this detective.”

“Pardon me, your boyfriend. I know we have been over this, Ms. Oliver. I’m just finding it hard to connect the dots. There are some major holes in your story.”

“I do not see how,” I tell the asshole. Marcum is continuing to pet my back. He probably thinks I need calming down. I do. I’m about to rip this asshole a new one and then maybe—maybe, I’ll feel better.

“Well, for starters, Ms. Oliver, why did you not go back into the main entrance of the jail, where you would most assuredly be safe? Why follow the inmate further into the jail?”

“His name is Maxwell,” this time Marcum replies, and I almost smile.

The detective doesn’t reply; his eyes are on me the entire time. I take a breath and go over the story and that Max and Marcum have drilled in my head. Honestly, it’s not far off from the truth. Marcum said the best lies always have elements of the truth, so this careful, well-thought out version of the day Max and I met, follows along that line of thinking.

“I told you, detective. The guard panicked. When the alarms sounded, he ran into the chaos. Without him and because the prison alarms were going off, I assumed I couldn’t get the guard to buzz me back in through the locked doors. It was all happening so fast. Max thought if I acted as his prisoner we would have a better chance of making sure I got out of everything safely.”

“That’s the part I don’t get, Ms. Oliver. The cameras show Max manhandling you, and clearly there was fear on your face, a panic even. I saw nothing loving or tender at all, in the way Mr. Kincaid treated you that day, if, in fact, you and he were having this relationship, as you stated.”

“I think we’re about done here,” Marcum says, and the irritation in his voice is clear.

“No, it’s okay, Marcum. The detective here is just doing his job,” I interrupt, and this time I don’t back down from the asshole. I’ll give him my story one more time, so that it’s on record again, without any changes. When they realize that I’m not going to deviate from it, then perhaps they will let go of it and the wheels will slowly start turning. I need Max home. I need him home, now. “I told you, detective; I was terrified. I was in the middle of a prison break. The prison’s guard left me unprotected. Completely unprotected. Max stepped up and saved me. I shudder to think, exactly what would have happened to me if he hadn’t. As it was, the Hernandez brothers tried to get to me. If Max hadn’t rescued me from the state’s negligence of having one, lone guard, and that guard being ill trained. I would have died—or worse. The looks you read on my face were exactly that. Max saved me that day.”

“Are you so naïve that you expect us to believe you trusted a man, a convicted felon, a murderer; to protect you, Ms. Oliver?”

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Marcum says, and his voice would be enough to make me back down. I’m not sure Detective De Luca is smart enough to know how close he is to danger. Then again, I’m kind of done here too. It’s clear what this detective thinks of Max. So, I decide to let him have some hard truths. Fuck this shit. I stand up, take a breath and decide to show him just a slice of the real Tess. The Tess that only Max has ever nourished and touched. The Tess that belongs to him and no one else.

“I trust Maxwell Kincaid with everything inside of me. Have you ever been in love, detective?”

Something flashes in the man’s eyes, but he makes no move to respond.

“Let me tell you exactly what kind of man Maxwell Kincaid is. He’s the man who protected me when the Hernandez brother’s tried to attack me. He’s the man who kept me safe through the swamps and kept me protected in an underground bunker while numerous convicted felons, murderers, as you so colorfully put it, were running around looking for blood. He’s the man who risked his life, to get me to his father. He’s the man who stitched my arm and saved my life after the officers that you work with, shot at me, not Max. Me. Most of all he’s a man who could have run. Who had the means and the finances to skip the country, and instead turned himself in. He’s an honest man. He’s a good man. He’s my man. So yes, detective, I not only fucking trust him, I would fucking die for him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to the doctor and make sure my child is healthy so that when the state of Florida gets off their ass and lets my man free, we can finally live happily.”

Marcum and I are to the door, and my hand is on the knob when the detective speaks up, and I stall for just a moment.

“That’s a pretty speech, Ms. Oliver, if I could discount the fact that Mr. Kincaid murdered someone in cold blood…”

I turn on him then. I want him to look me in the eye.

“Max is a war hero. A hero, detective. All he has ever done is shield people in his care. He went off the rails when his child was taken from him. True. I’m not denying it. He killed someone who murdered his unborn child. A child he couldn’t protect. He killed a monster that was a waste of air, and he has spent years with that knowledge, and he’s done his time. Why don’t you get off your high horse and put yourself in my fiancé’s shoes for a change, detective? I wonder, what you would do if someone you loved was ripped away from you, by a monster. What laws would the sanctimonious Detective De Luca enforce then, I wonder? Because I’m pregnant, and I know that if anyone tried to take my baby from me, I’d kill them, and fucking rejoice while doing it!” I take a deep breath, ending my ill-planned, rule-breaking speech with Max’s own words. I understand them now. I believe in them, because this man in front of me, and his colleagues, are trying to destroy my family.

The detective doesn’t say anything else. He looks almost repentant for a second. Then he moves around me and opens the door.

“I could almost agree with you, Ms. Oliver. I’m doing my job, and I could almost agree with you. Except for one small thing. We’ve had another witness come forward. Her story differs from yours, quite drastically.”

His words make my heart flip over, and fear threatens to overtake me. What is he talking about? It’s then he opens the door, and I come face to face with the woman on the other side. Jenna.

“That’s her! That’s the woman that came to the club a month ago. They’ve been living there. They paid the club a ton of money for safe passage out of the country! She was bragging how Max used the Hernandez brothers to orchestrate the prison break and then murdered them in cold blood! She even laughed about it, talking about how easy it was and how her and Max would be living the high life in Aruba in no time. That’s her, detective! That’s her!” Jenna spews at me with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. Maybe Max and I will get to stay in cells next to each other because I’m going to fucking kill her.

M
arcum and I stand back as Jenna, the cum-guzzling, gutter slut sashays in, wearing more skin than clothes. She’s looking smug, and I do my best not to let my fear show. She could put a kink in our entire plan. She could very well fuck it all up, and get Max taken from me. I need to play this cool. I need to find out exactly, what the cops are up to and then when I figure out a way to fix all of this; I need to fucking end this bitch. I know why Max is the way he is. When someone threatens your family, you do what you have to do to protect them. I get it. I don’t care what society says about it.

“If we could all have a seat, I was hoping we might clear up the discrepancies between the stories. Ms. Oliver?” Detective De Luca motions me back to my seat. I sit, even knowing what this is. Cops don’t just put people together like this. They don’t trust Jenna’s story, but they have given it enough merit to start a gigantic fishing expedition, which is dangerous enough on its own, without Jenna’s added fuel. Marcum sits beside me, but he’s dangerous now. There’s a whole different vibe coming off of him. Before he was upset with the cop. Now he’s furious, and it’s all directed at one person, Jenna. She might be too stupid to know exactly, what kind of trouble she’s buying, but I’m not. Marcum might be in his fifties, but he has not mellowed one bit from the man who started the Vipers. He’s deadly.

“I’m surprised that you are listening to a club whore that’s got an axe to grind because she was tossed out on her ass,” I tell him, my mouth getting the better of me.

“Club whore? I didn’t spread my legs for a man I just met, who was locked up behind bars!”

“No, you’re right. My bad. Max turned you down. You just spread them for everyone else,” I snap back, knowing a moment of regret. I really need to get my tongue under control. I have to help Max.

“You bitch! I’ll…”

“Ladies, please,” Officer De Luca interrupts. “If we could concentrate on the matter at hand, please. Speaking of which, you seem to know an awful lot, about what is going on at the club, for a woman who wasn’t living there, Ms. Oliver.”

Shit. Shit. Shit!

“Tess is now my daughter. She lives with the club; and her and my old lady, Cherry, have become close. She knows everything that went on with Jenna. Including, that I booted her lying ass out. If this is all you’ve got detective, I think we’re done here,” Marcum says, coming to my rescue.

“Ms. Michaels is merely a person who came forward. We have to do our due diligence to solve all cases. I wasn’t aware that she had been banished from the club, however, I’ll make note,” The detective answers, not looking up as he goes back through his file.

I’m waiting for Jenna to respond. She doesn’t. I figure I know the answer when out of the corner of my eye I see Marcum raise his hand in a gun like fashion and aim it at Jenna. He acts as if he pulls the trigger and lifts his hand. Jenna goes white. Perhaps she’s not quite that clueless now. A pity she couldn’t have smartened up beforehand.

“My problem is the bodies of the Hernandez brothers,” the detective begins again.

“I wasn’t aware they died?” I ask playing stupid. Marcum starts rubbing my back again, and I let his warmth ward off the chill surrounding my heart.

“Well, we were working under the opinion that they too had escaped and disappeared, especially after your statement. However, Ms. Michaels does paint a colorful tale about what might have really happened after the prison break when you and Mr. Kincaid were walking through the marshes. She seems to be under the impression that Mr. Kincaid shot the Hernandez brothers in cold blood. Interesting, don’t you think?”

“I think Ms. Michaels has a very colorful imagination,” I tell him standing up. Detective De Luca is definitely fishing, and I’m not about to take the bait. This interview isn’t about me giving my statement again. This interview is a straight-up witch hunt. I need to leave before I mess something up unintentionally. “I imagine when one spends the majority of their life on their back with their legs spread they have to dream up fantasies, Detective De Luca.”

“You cunt! I’ll destroy you! You think you can waltz into my old club and take everything from me that I spent years working for? Max is mine!”

I shake my head. The only good thing is that her rant just now added credence to my story. I can tell that by the look that the detective shoots her.

“I’m late for a doctor’s appointment now. If you’ll excuse me, detective, I think I’ve donated enough of my time to this.”

Marcum helps me up, and we go back to the door, not bothering to wait for the man’s response. The door is open, and I’m outside, finally breathing air that doesn’t contain Jenna when the guy finally responds.

“We’re probably done, Ms. Oliver. My men are combing through the marshlands outside the prison today. I’ve instructed them to pay close attention to areas close to your fiancé’s land.”

“It’s sad when state agencies waste taxpayer’s money, but by all means search away. Goodbye, Detective De Luca.”

I hold it together as we leave the station. I even manage to keep my cool outside of the station. It’s when we make it to Marcum’s car that I let my fear bleed through.

“Are you sure they won’t find any sign of the Hernandez brothers, Marcum?”

“Positive. Got it all handled. How about we go to that doctor’s appointment now and check on my granddaughter.”

“It could be a boy,” I tell him trying to shake off my fears.

“It could, but it won’t be. It’ll be a girl with her mama’s grit.”

I think on his answer and smile. It’s a huge compliment. Marcum likes me. I suddenly get a vision of a little girl with her daddy’s dark locks and eyes, and I like it. I like it so much, I kind of hope Marcum is right.