Chapter 50

“He lawyered up,” Henry said, his tone dry. “That bastard’s not talking.”

It was three days after the identification parade. They’d gone back to the police department to give their final statement and sign some necessary paperwork since Chelsea was not up to doing it after the event. When asked about the case, Henry informed them that Jason was not talking and was asking for his lawyer.

“The Feds are being soft on him, that’s what. If it were still my case, he would be singing like a bird.”

“So what happens next?” she asked.

“He must be arraigned before a federal judge, and they will decide if he is a flight risk or not. Given that he was about to leave the country, I don’t think they’ll let him out. In addition, they have a witness,” he replied with a grin.

Colt raised a questioning brow. “A witness?”

“Yes. They refuse to tell me who it is, needing to keep things on the low, I suppose. These ungrateful bastards! Wasn’t it me who got the guy? Now they don’t want to share info with me.”

“Do you have any idea who it is? Did someone witness the kidnapping?” Colt asked.

“I don’t know … maybe. What I do know is your stepsister when she awakes will be one hell of a witness. What I can tell you is that Jason fellow has more charges against him in the federal court.”

A shocked expression crossed Colt’s face as she asked, “The insurance fraud?”

“I’m sure that will be added to his crimes, but there’s more than they are saying.”

Meanwhile in the federal department in their interrogation room, between the agent and Jason stood an eight-foot metal table which was five feet wide. In front of the agent was a file folder and in front of Jason was a cup of water. Jason took a sip, as expected. Behind the FBI man was a glass panel where the criminal psychologist and a few more agents observed.

“Don’t I get a phone call?” Jason’s icy tone did not go unnoticed by the federal agent sitting across from him.

Agent Norman York had worked with the FBI for nearly two decades. He knew the tone well. As he observed Jason Williams, the guy was arrogant and felt that they had nothing on him since Chelsea could not identify his face. He knew the guy was going to call his lawyer with his phone call, and that’s what York was depending on. Williams was making his job way too easy, but he had to appear as though it wasn’t so.

“Why are you wasting time, just tell us everything and save us a whole bunch of time and taxpayers’ money. We could be out of here already,” he said, trying to sound impatient.

York rested a large chocolate complexioned arm on the metal table. His sharp brown eyes studied the suspect as he leaned back in his chair with a smirk. York wanted to wipe the snarky expression from his face. He hated cocky criminals, and Jason was one of them. They believed they were smart enough to beat the system.

“I ain’t saying nothing without my lawyer,” the cocky bastard replied.

Norman chuckled. “Using a double infinitive pencils it out to a positive. I bet you didn’t know that you just told me you would talk without your lawyer, and it’s all recorded.”

The bastard’s eyes widened ever so slightly with a puzzled look on his face. “No, I didn’t say nothing like that, man.”

“You just did it again, but I guess you were too busy kidnapping innocent women that you didn’t have time to learn your grammar, huh?”

“Innocent?” Jason spat but caught himself in time and snapped his mouth shut.

“Alright, I’ll let you have your phone call. Don’t waste it, though; you only get one shot.”

Jason still appeared confused about the grammar issue and looked at York with narrowed eyes and a somber expression. His snarky look was gone, and York smiled with satisfaction. Another agent led Jason out of the room and into the main area where he would make the call. Norman York waited patiently for him to return.

Phone calls were timed, and an agent was stationed a few feet away to monitor any conversation that may seem like a threat to victims or any illegal activity. He’d instructed the agent to stand within two feet, keeping his eyes on him while appearing to take notes. This would make Jason uncomfortable and cut the ten-minute conversation in half.

Within seven minutes of leaving the interrogation room, Jason was escorted back. The junior agent winked at York to indicate success with the little game. He waited until Jason was seated before proceeding with his questions. What he was actually doing was waiting for the lawyer to show and then it was show time.

York’s blood pumped wickedly in his veins. This was a part of his job he liked. The adrenaline rush of knowing you had a criminal right where you wanted them gave him such a rush that he wanted to dance. It never grew old. He loved his job and would never trade it for anything. Half hour later, he got his wish.

The junior agent entered the room and walked over, bent and whispered to York who nodded. “Thanks.” After the young agent left, York stood, picking up his file, smiling at Jason. “I’ll be back,” he said before he chuckled. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The six foot, broad shouldered agent sauntered into the main area where a dozen of his colleagues were standing about. A man in a gray suit with a briefcase was standing to the right, talking to an agent. York could hear the condescending tone in which the man spoke and knew immediately it was Williams’ lawyer.

“Take me to my client or you will be charged with obstructing his sixth amendment rights,” the man said.

“Calm down, Mr. Boyles … it’s Boyles, right?” York said upon reaching him.

“Who are you?” The man turned at his voice with a scornful expression, his pale blue eyes hard as nails.

York ignored the look. “I’m senior agent York; now if you’ll come with me,” he stated in a calm, pleasant tone.

The lawyer snickered but followed behind York into an interrogation room. The room was much like the one in which he and Jason were sitting earlier, with a long metal table and the glass panel. In the four corners where wall met ceiling were cameras, which were trained on the occupants of the room.

In a room on the other side of the wall was a technical agent monitoring the cameras on a large computer screen. York was confident that all his colleagues knew what to do. He guided Boyles to sit while he pulled up a chair on the other side of the table. The lawyer sat glancing at the door several times.

“Where is my client?” Boyles asked.

At that moment, an agent brought in a laptop, opened it, and turned it to face Boyles. On it was Jason in the other interrogation chamber, an agent standing at the door.

“What is this? You said I could see my client.”

“And you’re seeing him,” York replied with a grin.

Boyles stood. “You will hear about this.”

“Tell me about Little Rock Insurance, Mr. Boyles,” York calmly stated, leaning back in his chair.

The lawyer visibly stiffened, turning with a blank look. “I have never heard of them.”

The agent opened his folder and pulled out a file, pushing it across the table. Boyles’ eyes followed the file. He sat once again, picked up the file and examined the contents with his eyes before slowly placing it on the table.

“What do you want?”

York heard desperation in the voice of the lawyer; though he attempted to sound haughty, he was asking for help. What do you want? Was a question asked by people who got caught, and this former DA now turned defense lawyer was caught in a corner.

Boyles had been the Deputy District Attorney almost two decades ago when the case of Montgomery’s mother came before him. Desperate for success, he quickly closed the case in order to have one notch added to his belt. A career move that could earn him stars. The more cases he closed, the further up the ladder he went.

When Detective Henry informed him about the autopsy report, he buried the findings, and since the case was already closed, no one would question anything. While completing the paperwork for the case, he discovered something, a million dollar insurance.

York shook his head as he ran through his mind the report he had in front of him. Boyles was a piece of work. Jason was only fourteen at the time and was not eligible to sign for the money. In fact, his stepmother was the main beneficiary while the children including Montgomery were secondary beneficiaries in the event something should happen to Edna.

“Tell me, how does a prosecutor commit insurance fraud, knowing it’s a federal offense?”

“Are you cutting me a deal or not?” the lawyer asked.

“Deal?”

Boyles rested his elbow on the table, leaning slightly forward. “I have information that may come in handy to you.”

“Let’s hear it.”

What a piece of scum? York thought as Boyles began to reveal client secrets. He was the defense attorney for several high-profile drug lords and politicians. He didn’t care about the fact that he was breaking several laws by revealing his clients’ information, willingly. All Boyles cared about was saving his own skin. He was even willing to bury Williams by saying the boy was the one who bribed and blackmailed him.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked after about an hour of revealing some of the most devastating client information.

“Sorry, buddy, I don’t make deals with rotten attorneys,” York replied dryly, standing.

“Son of a bitch!” Boyles swore, doubling his fist and pounding the table.

York placed both palms down on the table and leant forward, his six-foot frame towering over the seated Boyles. “Is that a threat?”

The lawyer looked away and slumped back into the chair. His face took on a defeated look. York straightened, his eyes never leaving Boyles. He gathered his file and placed it neatly into the folder.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he said to Boyles as he left the room. An agent came and stood guard inside.

A few minutes later, he entered the room where Jason sat impatiently waiting for his lawyer. His face showed his annoyance at having to wait. York ignored him and took a seat while the guard left.

“What am I doing here?” Jason inquired.

“You’re charged with a federal crime, that’s what you’re doing here,” York calmly replied. “I want to show you something.”

Another agent entered with an opened laptop, placing it on the table before Jason. York moved around the table, coming to stand beside the suspect. They both watched the screen as it showed Boyles sitting in the room where York just left him. An agent stood inside the door. A few seconds passed before the door opened and two more agents entered.

“What’s happening?” Jason asked, raising his eyes questioningly to the FBI agent.

York jutted his chin at the laptop. “See for yourself,” he replied.

As there was no sound on the machine, they could only witness the actions of those in the room. One of the agents appeared to speak with the lawyer who stood to his feet. His hands were handcuffed behind his back, and the two agents who just came in led him out of the room.

“You need a new lawyer, one who doesn’t commit federal crimes,” the agent told him before leaving the room.