some friends in the prosecutor’s office locally. Talked to one of them this morning. Seeing as you weren’t wearing Nighthawks colors and didn’t instigate anything, they’re willing to look at you as a bystander who got caught up in something, rather than a conspirator.”
“How much did that cost?”
Dobie smiled. “Less than it would cost for a full defense at trial. I’m always looking to save my clients money. Good news is you’ll be out on bail later this afternoon. Still need to work through the formalities, of course. Prosecutor won’t decide whether or not to charge you you until there’s been a full investigation proving your innocence.”
“Glad to know our public servants are so thorough.”
“Always,” Coales said, smirking. “I have to say, in my professional opinion Marsh Jackson is a fucking moron. Not only did he attack an off-duty cop, he had enough meth on him to be charged with intent to distribute. I guess attempted murder wasn’t enough. The rest of the club will likely be charged as accessories. The picture we’ll be painting to the public is that you’re the innocent victim of these terrible drug dealers. Gangs like the Nighthawk Raiders really are a scourge on society.”
I snorted.
“Do you stand in front of a mirror and practice saying shit like that with a straight face?”
Coales smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Just remember, all we need is a story plausible enough that they won’t suspect we paid off the prosecutors. I’ll admit, it’s a touchy situation, considering an off-duty cop got hurt, but I really do think we’ll be okay. They say that kid—Rome—probably saved the guy’s life. He’s an EMT, did you know that?”
I raised a brow. “No shit?”
Coales grinned at me.
“Yup,” he said. “And he’s well enough known and liked in the EMS community that they’d be covering his ass regardless of our influence, and as of now they’re lumping you in with him, not Jackson. The prosecutor already has his bad guys—patch-holding bikers carrying drugs. He plays that up for the public, nobody will give you another thought. They have bigger fish.”
“And Painter?”
Coales sobered.
“He’s being transported back to Kootenai County,” he said. “They’ll set a hearing, and we expect he’ll be sent back down to California to finish out his term. Not a lot we can do about it at this point.”
Leaning back, I stared at the wall above his head, considering the situation.
“And you said his girl is pregnant? Melanie?”
“Can’t remember her name,” he said. “But yes, apparently she told him yesterday. He left her to come over here, and now he’s going to prison. At least he’s only got a couple years left on the term.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s a great comfort,” I said. “What a fuckin’ waste. He’d been here maybe five minutes before shit went down.”
Coales shrugged.
“It is what it is. Ruger and Horse will be waiting for you outside when you get out, along with your bike. None of the Nighthawks have made bail yet—fucking up a cop is a real good way to find yourself in legal limbo. They’ll drag out everything and make it as difficult as possible. We’ll also reach out to the bail bonds community and see if we can’t complicate their situation. Think Pic plans to use that window of opportunity to clean house up in Hallies Falls. They’re expecting you to debrief as soon as you’re back in town. Try not to get yourself arrested again in the process, okay?”
“Thanks,” I told him. “I have a request, if you can help.”
“What’s that?”
“You said it’ll a take a couple more hours for me to get out?”
“Yes. We have to deal with paperwork and bail and some pissed off cops,” he said. “I’m confident it’s settled, but we still have to jump through the hoops.”
“You think you can arrange for me to share a room with Marsh Jackson for a few minutes before I go?”
Coales raised a brow. “Possibly. But think it through first because you’re almost out of here. Why take that risk?”
“Because I owe him,” I replied. “And the club owes me, so can you make it happen?”
“It’s a lot easier to get my clients out on bail when they aren’t picking fights. Something to think about.”
“He just tried to murder a cop. Every person in this station is itching to beat him bloody but they can’t. Let me do the dirty work for them and everyone wins.”
Coales leaned back in the chair, studying me thoughtfully for a minute.