When he said no more, she prompted carefully. “And those would be…?”
He answered immediately. “He likes a certain kinda people. Only that kind. His kind. Which means other kinds, like g*ys, liberals, hippies, he don’t like. He also don’t like color. Top of the heap he don’t like is color.”
She closed her eyes slowly then opened them and locked hers with his.
“Fuller’s got a brother,” he told her.
She pressed her lips together.
Walker continued, “Cut from the same cloth, Fuller and his brother.”
She stopped pressing her lips together and he saw her clench her teeth.
He kept going. “Fuller’s brother is a cop in LA.”
She closed her eyes slowly again but this time she dropped her head, reached out a hand, took a step back, her hand hit island and she leaned into it. Then she sucked in another breath, lifted her head, opened her eyes and caught his.
He went on, “Don’t know yet why. Just know the California Fuller had a problem. His brother offered me up as a solution.”
“Ty,” she whispered.
“Got his boys in on it. Recruited outside help. I didn’t have a prayer.”
“How?” she asked quietly still leaning into a hand, this news weighing on her. He could see the weight. She was barely holding up.
“There are about three clean cops in the Carnal Police Department that’s how.”
“But… California? You said you’d never been there.”
“My word against theirs. Rowdy Crabtree made a statement that he heard me talkin’ in Bubba’s about hitting a game in LA over Labor Day weekend. Witnesses in LA corroborated I sat that game.”
“So?” she asked, pulling herself straight, expending effort to do it, having that effort to give because she was getting pissed.
Getting pissed for him.
“So, cop says I headed to LA, I headed to LA. Cop buys witnesses, pulls in favors or extorts statements, they got witnesses.”
“LA isn’t an hour away, Ty,” she told him something he knew. “You can’t pop over there, commit a crime and pop back no matter what witnesses say.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Lex,” he replied. “But see, over Labor Day weekend, I hooked up with pu**y named Misty. Hot snatch, all over me, she didn’t let me up for air for three days. It wasn’t the first time I had her, we were on and off. I liked what I got from her but knew she was trouble. Like it or not, Lexie, pu**y can be trouble and it can be the worst kind. She’s the worst kind. Thought I had it under control. She let me in, I took what she gave, I didn’t give back shit except as many orgasms as she could squeeze outta me. Had no f**kin’ clue she was also bangin’ someone else. Now she’s married to Chace Keaton. Detective Chace Keaton, Carnal PD.”
Lexie sucked in a sharp breath.
Walker finished it. “She was my alibi. The only person I saw the whole weekend. When I offered her up, they talked to her, she said I’d lied about bein’ with her but also shared I told her I was hitting a game in LA. Can’t prove it was her but there were prints found at the scene in LA. Someone had to lift mine. Not hard, Bubba’s, Pop’s garage, coulda got them anywhere. But she was here, in this house, for three days and she’s a cunt and that weekend she was a cunt sent on a mission.”
“That’s why,” she whispered and he knew what she meant. That was why he knew pu**y came with a chain.
“That’s why,” he confirmed.
She stared at him.
Then she stated, “You’re going after them.”
“Fuck yeah,” he replied immediately.
She took her hand from the counter and straightened her shoulders and Walker thought this was an interesting reaction. He thought she’d bolt. He thought he’d see disappointment.
She wasn’t giving him that.