Page 2 of Pike’s Redemption

Macmillan grumbled but reached over and uncuffed Pike. “Don’t go anywhere.” The bored glare Pike gave him was textbook.

As I brushed past the officer, he sneered, “Hope you know who you’re representing. Don’t get in over your head. The guy is a killer.” I flashed my teeth at him in a smile.

“Thanks for the warning. Have a good day,” pausing. I turned back and let my hair swing as I turned. “Be careful out there, officer,” I said sweetly. His eyes had been on my ass but went wide, trying to figure out if I was being nice or threatening him. Walking down the hallway, I put an extra swing in my step and enjoyed the click of my heels on the linoleum. It was the small things.

When we got outside, Pike breathed deeply, looking up at the sky, and rubbed his wrists. I’m sure being locked up again wasn’t on his to-do list. They hadn’t charged him, so he would’ve been out without my help, but he looked as if he was still trying to shake it off. If you had been inside once, you didn’t want to repeat it. Although, I was always surprised when I met someone who didn’t seem to mind it so much.

“How’d you know I was here?” he finally asked after he’d settled himself.

“I was already on my way, but someone from your MC called my cousin when they picked you up, so I came straight here.” Unlocking my car, I tossed my briefcase in the back. I guessed they drug Pike here in cuffs, so he didn’t have a ride. The more humiliating it was, the better the cops liked it. If they didn’t have a real suspect, then they’d satisfy themselves by harassing him. “Is there somewhere we can go where we can talk? I’m going to need some information from you if this is going to work. Somewhere with food, preferably.”

I was tired from the drive to Arizona, but the case was already driving me forward. My mother and sister often complained that I was a workaholic, which was a lie. Mostly. However, I was hungry.

“Yeah, we can go to the diner.” He squinted at me. “It’s not fancy,” he cautioned.

“I don’t need fancy.” Although I loved some designer shoes, I was just as comfortable in a dive bar or a diner as at a fashion show. I could hold my own anywhere.

The Odd Duck lived up to its name. It was a strange little diner that was as homey as it was eclectic. After the waitress had ordered an omelet for Pike and a burger for me, he finally indicated that I could begin. He’d asked the waitress, Daisy, to seat us in a back corner. We’d gotten a few looks as we’d walked in, but it was to be expected in such a small town.

“I’m sure you know I’m Dimitri’s cousin.” He gave a wave of his fork in between bites. “I try to get in some information about my qualifications right away,” I began. I was self-conscious about this part. He looked up at me over his plate, his eyes so dark they could be black. “I graduated from Stanford Law School at the top of my class. I passed the bar on the first try and am a defense attorney exclusively. Normally, I work for Volkov Bratva, but Dimitri asked me for a favor, and I owe it to him. If you have questions, I’m happy to answer them.” I liked to get these pesky things out of the way first. New clients always wanted to find out if I was qualified. I was more overqualified than anything.

He peered at me, cautious. “Is it confidential? What I tell you?”

“Give me a dollar.” He squinted at me and then laid a crinkled dollar from his wallet on the table.

“I can pay you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” I wrinkled my nose. He didn’t know my regular fee. I doubted he could pay it, but we didn’t need to go into that. This whole thing was under the auspices of the Volkov umbrella, so there would be no billed fee. “It’s unnecessary, but now we’ve moved past the favor, and you’re a paying client. Yes, it’s confidential. Everything you say stays between us.” I tucked the dollar into my briefcase. I would have kept it confidential anyway, but symbols meant something important to a man like Pike. I thought I had the gist of the case and the evidence, but I wanted to hear it from him.

“I think my brother’s alive,” he said, shocking the absolute shit out of me.

I wasn’t expecting that. I took a moment to process what Pike had just said, my hand hovering over my fries. “Your brother?” I repeated, my tone neutral as I picked up a french fry, dipping into some ketchup.

“Yeah, Eli,” Pike said, his voice rough with emotion. “I know it sounds crazy, but with everything that’s been happening, I can’t shake the feeling that it’s possible.”

Eli Walters. The name was familiar from my research into Pike’s history. The story was vague at best. Eli had only been five years old when he’d died after drowning in a pond that was located on the property of a foster placement. The coroner had identified minor injuries but had ruled the death to be an accident despite a young deputy on the scene protesting that there was more to the incident.I didn’t remember any mention of Pike in the report, but I made a mental note to go back and see if anyone interviewed him.

“Alright,” I said, setting my fork down and leaning forward. “I did my research about your basic background before I came. There was an identification, but I’ll look into it further. You were nine? ”

“Yeah. I was nine. I’d appreciate it if you’d see what you could find on the report.” He looked like he wanted to vomit. “Look, I just don’t know what to think about all this. I never saw the body. I didn’t believe them when they said he was dead, but what the fuck did I know?” He pushed his plate toward the edge of the table. I was guessing about now that he wished he’d skipped this talk. “Just the eyes and the fact that Porter was found here. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

Pike nodded, took a deep breath, and continued. “Porter, the victim…” he said the word derisively. “He had a connection to Eli and me,” he paused, looking at me carefully. “The police keep hauling me in because I knew Porter when I was younger. You know that already, I’m sure.” I nodded in confirmation.

He was right; I already knew that, but I was curious about where he was going with this and if he would divulge what I thought he was going to. There were some complaints in some of the paperwork in the foster system about the Walters boys. Pike swallowed hard, his eyes darting away. He looked supremely uncomfortable. “The eyes being gouged out. Eli did that sometimes.”

“He gouged out eyes?”

“When he was little.”

“Ok.” The little boy was dead, so I wouldn’t make him out to be a villain if he was some messed up kid poking out the eyes of woodland creatures. “This makes you think that maybe your brother isn’t dead?”

“It sounds crazy, right?”

I pushed away the pie, leaning back into the booth cushions, trying to figure out how to reply to him. It did sound crazy—completely crazy—and impossible.

“I can look into the coroner’s report,” I said carefully. “Let’s just say that you’re right. That Eli is alive. Why would he be dropping bodies in your town? It makes you look guilty.”I had a lot of other questions to ask him, but I didn’t think he could take them today. The guy looked done. I agreed about the coincidence, but to be honest, I liked Pike for the crime. This wild theory about the brother who might be alive and kicking sounded like an improbable fantasy.

“Dimitri mentioned something that struck true to me. If it is Eli.” He turned those black eyes to me again. “That the body was a gift.” A gift? What the hell did that mean?