Nickel City Storm Warning (Gideon Rimes Book 3) by Gary Ross (100 best novels of all time txt) 📗

Phoenix had been right about the set-up, but realizing I was not a bargain basement target after all did nothing for my self-esteem. “So instead of shooting me, you announced yourself. Having two guys was supposed to give you better odds before you pulled the gun.”

“Yeah.”

I was tempted to ask how that had worked out for him, but something else had nagged at me since that day on Franklin. “How long were you following me?”

“About two weeks. Not every day but a few times a week. I waited down the street from your office one day. Bag Man said you were a big black guy with salt-and-pepper hair and glasses. When you stepped out, I was sure it was you, so I followed you on foot to the grocery store and the coffee shop.”

The Lexington Co-op and Spot Coffee, both on Elmwood near my office. I could have seen him at either location. In the Elmwood Village, full of students, hipsters, young professionals, and old hippies, a red and black tattoo would not have seemed out of place.

“Sometimes I followed you in my truck. Twice when you went out with your lady friend.” He half smiled. “Both times you parked at her place all night.”

My temples began to throb again. I had wondered if he’d seen enough to realize the nature of our relationship, which was why I had asked Phoenix to stay away today. My plan was to tell him she was my lawyer, nothing more. But if he had sat on her place through the night, he knew the truth. Now maybe Hellman knew as well.

“I got lucky the second Sunday,” Joey continued. “I saw the two of you drive away in the morning but I lost you so I went back to a spot outside her building. When you came back and parked, I got out of the truck. I followed you to the theater and asked what time the show was over so I could pick up a friend. Then I texted my guys to say we were on. While you were in the restaurant, they came. We waited in my truck for you to come out.”

“Tell Mr. Rimes how you were supposed to get paid,” Tripp said.

“Not yet,” I said. “First, does Jasper Hellman know about my…lady friend?”

“No. Least not from me.”

I placed both my hands flat on the table. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

I took a deep breath and stared into Joey’s eyes, hard. I wanted him to see the killer inside. As pissed as I was Phoenix might be a target, it didn’t take much acting. “That’s the whole truth? In all these weeks you haven’t somehow sent a message to Hellman?”

“If he lies, his deal goes away,” Tripp said.

“No,” Joey said. “You look like you want to reach across this table and snap my neck. I do believe you could. I don’t believe either one of these men could stop you.” He gulped. “But I’m not lying, sir.”

“Because if anything happens to her…”

Tripp placed a hand on my forearm and leaned on his other elbow toward Joey. “If anything happens to Ms. Trinidad, you will be charged as an accessory, sentenced to life, and transferred to Attica or a place like it, where most of the inmates are Black and Latino. By the time you get there, they will know you’re responsible for the murder or attempted murder of a Puerto Rican soul sister.” Tripp withdrew his hand. “Do you understand me, Mr. Snell?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

Tripp looked at me just as I finished rolling my eyes. Puerto Rican soul sister?

“Mr. Rimes, doesn’t Ms. Trinidad have clients who ended up at Attica and other prisons in the state system?”

I nodded. “They all love her. Too bad she wasn’t your lawyer, Joey. Could have got you a better deal.”

Protecting the plea at all costs, Aronson ignored my eye roll and now said nothing about my threatening his client or insulting his competence.

“Has Hellman made his thirty thousand dollar pitch to anyone else?” I asked.

“Fifteen thousand,” Joey said. “Lots of guys heard him. I don’t know if anybody took him serious, but I was the first to get out.”

“I need the names of any men you think heard him,” Tripp said. Then he turned back to me. “We’ll investigate further to see who’s in Hellman’s circle, who else got out or will soon get out.”

“Wouldn’t hurt also to see if anyone has white power or Aryan nation connections.”

“Right.” Tripp angled his head at Joey. “Tell us how you were to get your money.”

Joey shifted again, avoiding my eyes. “When he saw on the TV news that you were dead, he’d send me a phone number to call. We know they read our letters, in and out, so we had a code worked out. I would call the number and his wife would send me a special bank check for fifteen thousand, which I was gonna put right in my mother’s account. The rest of the money was for his wife and daughter.”

Though I stifled my chuckle, a good measure of the tension building inside me dissipated. “A special bank check? Any check that size automatically gets a review back to the source. You think money to an ex-con from a convicted killer’s wife right after the arresting officer is murdered won’t make somebody’s spider-sense tingle?”

Joey said nothing but his Adam’s apple bobbled as he considered what he’d heard.

“We checked,” Tripp said. “No unsolved robberies anywhere in Pennsylvania when he was there that would give him that much money to hide. He never sold drugs or guns...”

“Bag Man set you up,” I said. “He sent you to do his wet work and didn’t care if you got caught. It was a mistake to believe him.”

“I know that now.”

“Do you also know he’s never been married?”

“What?”

“His lawyer pulled every trick in the defense playbook,” I said. “Laid out every detail of his miserable life. A childhood marked by poverty and deprivation.