I felt like I’d just taken a sledgehammer blow to the heart.

I stared at Jack, my mouth slightly open, my fingers and hands suddenly ice cold – but he wouldn’t look back at me.

Fordham seemed interested. “So one of your guys killed her?”

“No.”

Both Fordham and I frowned.

“So why pay Peters off, then?” the DEA agent asked. “What the hell were you covering up?”

“To avoid people thinking we had a hand in it,” Jack said, still not looking at me.

“Why would they think you had a hand in it?”

“Because we were at the scene of the crime.”

“And why was that?”

“Because we were going there to meet her.”

I felt sick, like I was going to puke.

Then I felt enraged. After all his sanctimonious bullshit about me keeping information from him –

“Who’s ‘we’?” Fordham asked.

“Me, Kade, and Lou.”

“Why were you going to meet her?”

“We thought she was snitching for you.”

“For the DEA,” Fordham clarified.

“Yeah.”

My stomach twisted into knots.

Jack had never mentioned he’d known any of this.

“Well, you were right,” Fordham said. “She was.”

Jack’s eyes got big, like he’d just been punched. Then he bowed his head, like he was tired of this. Like he couldn’t handle any more. That it was killing him bit by bit, piece by piece.

It was certainly killing me.

Jack lifted his head and looked at me. “Did you know? About Ali and the DEA?”

“Yeah,” I said, and I couldn’t keep the hatred I felt for him out of my voice. “She was snitching for Eddie.”

“And you didn’t fucking think to tell me?!”

“You got a LOT of goddamn nerve acting pissed off, considering what you DIDN’T tell ME,” I hissed.

Jack looked stunned, then turned away again.

“Uh ohhhh… trouble in paradise,” Fordham chuckled. He was obviously enjoying watching us turn on each other.

“I didn’t kill her,” Jack said. “Neither did Kade or Lou.”

“Don’t you think that looks awful suspicious, though?” Fordham said. “The three of you suspected her of being a snitch, and suddenly she winds up dead?”

“Which is why we paid off Peters. But we didn’t kill her.”

“So let me get this straight: the night she died, you were going to have a ‘talk’ with her.”

“Yes.”

“But somebody else beat you to the ‘talking’ part.”

“We weren’t going to hurt her,” Jack insisted. “We were just going to find out if we were right… and if she was snitching, we were gonna find out what she’d told you.”

“Just scare her a little.”

“…yeah.”

“So you didn’t kill her, but you thought the DEA would try to pin the murder on you and the club, and that’s why you paid Peters,” Fordham concluded. “So he could slow-walk the investigation, run interference if the Feds got involved. Make sure it wasn’t an issue.”

“…yes.”

Jack looked ashamed of himself when he said it. And he still wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I wanted to kill him.

All those dozens and dozens of phone calls to the Richards police department… all of their stonewalling…

Nobody ever even tried to solve Ali’s death, and it was Jack’s fucking fault.

He had PAID them not to try. He had PAID for the cops to ignore me.

If I had my gun, I swear to God, I would have shot him in the head right then and there.

“You paid off Peters personally?” Fordham asked.

“…no. It was always Lou.”

Fordham smiled facetiously. “You didn’t want to get your hands dirty.”

Jack stared at the floor but didn’t say anything.

Of course you didn’t, you hypocritical motherfucker.

“Well, that does me no good,” Fordham said. “If you can’t personally testify that you handed money to Peters, then I need proof. Receipts, bank statements, something. I can’t build a case on ‘Yeah, my partner said he’d handle it.’”

I felt absolutely sick over what Jack had said, and I hated him for it – but I couldn’t afford to wallow in that right now. I had to get us out of this first. I could decide what to do about Jack later.

“We came to help you get Lou and the others,” I said to Fordham. “And Peters, too, now that we know you’re gunning for him. If you arrest us, though, you’re throwing away a valuable asset. We can be of use to you.”

Fordham stood there with his hands in his pockets, squinting at me. He didn’t seem to be rejecting me entirely out of hand, so I continued talking.

“Eddie said he wanted me because he wanted somebody deep undercover. Well, you can’t get any deeper undercover than the president of the MC.”

“Former president,” Fordham said.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s got access nobody else would ever be able to give you.”

“If I cut you two loose, what’s to stop you from heading off to Mexico?”

“I risked my life to solve Ali’s murder. You know everything else, so you must know that Lou put a gun to my head. I’m not going to stop now just because you’re threatening me with jail time. I’m going to finish this.”

Fordham looked over at Jack. “What about you, hotshot? What assurances do I have that you won’t just run for the hills?”

Jack took a few seconds to answer. “I knew you might arrest me when we set up the meeting. It was a risk I was willing to take. I’m not about to cut and run now.”

I looked at the mirror in the wall. “I’ll confess on video right now, as long as I can get it on record that if we deliver Lou and Peters to you, then I…”

I stopped, then forced myself to rephrase the sentence.

“…then we walk. Both of us.”

Jack glanced over at me. He looked like he was feeling guilty as hell.

Fordham jerked his head at Jack. “After everything you just heard about this piece of shit paying off the cops to not solve your cousin’s murder, you’re gonna still cover for his sorry ass?”

I stared at Fordham evenly. “You heard me. That’s all I have to say.”

The DEA agent raised his eyebrows like Whatever you say, kid, it’s your life. Then he turned to Jack and smirked. “What about you, Pollari? You gonna tape a confession for me, too?”

Jack looked hatefully at the DEA agent. “If it means that you let me, Fiona, and Kade walk once I hand you Lou… yeah. I’ll give you a fuckin’ confession.”

Fordham stood there thinking. “When was the last time you saw Eddie Deacon?” he finally asked.

“That night at the Roadhouse when Lou backstabbed me,” Jack said.

“That’s the last you saw of him?”

“I haven’t been anywhere near the Riders, the Seven Veils, or the Roadhouse since.”

“What about you?” Fordham asked me. “When did you last see him?”

“The day after the Roadhouse. He met me at the boulders, gave me back my album with all the photos of my cousin, and then I never talked to him again. Why – what happened?”

Fordham took a long time to answer. “We’re going to videotape those confessions, just like you said. I’ll testify on camera at the same time that if you aid in our investigation, I’ll let you both walk.”

“And Kade,” Jack added.

“We’ll see about Kade.”

“Without Kade, there’s no deal.”

“You’re in no position to be bargaining,” Fordham snapped.

Jack answered calmly, “Sounds to me like Eddie’s gone missing. And if Lou was behind it, then he’s probably dead.”

I winced. That was what I’d been worried about from the very beginning, since the Lead Guy at the boulders had refused to answer our questions.

I fucking hated Eddie for taking advantage of me and blackmailing me into snitching for him – but at the end of the day, he was a lawman doing his job. Lou was a sociopathic criminal. I wanted Lou dead, but not Eddie.

Jack stared at Fordham. “If I find out what happened to Eddie, and save him if he’s still alive… or, if he’s not, I give you proof of Lou’s involvement… then Kade walks.”

Fordham smiled grimly. “You give me my agent back, or you hand me that son of a bitch’s head on a plate, you got yourself a deal.”