Silas (Dirty Aces MC #4) - Lane Hart Page 0,3
a shot at finding these assholes? Right now, you’re our only lead. So, unless you give us something else to go on, you could end up behind bars again for a very long time, Miss Walsh…”
“You’re right, I don’t want to get involved because I am terrified!” I shout at them. “It’s a miracle they didn’t kill me before. How do you know they won’t come after me if I talk to you?” I ask.
“Your name won’t be included in any of the court documents or records. You’ll just be listed as a ‘confidential informant,’ so they won’t know it was you who talked to us,” Rollins tries to reassure me.
“But can you guarantee that I’ll be safe?” I ask.
“Of course,” Ashby says, taking a sip of his coffee. “If at any time you think you’re in danger, we could ask the U.S. Attorney for the Eastern District to take over the case, and they could put you in WITPRO.”
“WITPRO? What’s that?”
“Witness Protection,” Rollins explains.
“Oh. Okay,” I say since that makes me feel a little safer.
“But we would only recommend the case to the federal prosecutor if you give us a lead that pans out. If we end up catching these guys without your help, you could still be in danger, but we wouldn’t be able to do anything to protect you.”
“Fine! I may have heard a name,” I say because I don’t want to ever be locked up again or murdered by some insane motorcycle crew. “But I was screaming. It was hard to hear. He had just shot a man right in front of me!”
“What name?” Ashby presses.
“I think it was Nash. One of the men said, ‘What the fuck, Nash’ right after he pulled the trigger.”
“So this ‘Nash’ was the shooter, the killer?” Rollins asks for clarification.
“Yes.”
“You saw him fire the gun that killed the guard that was found dead in the kitchen?” Rollins reiterates.
“Like I said, it was hard to hear. They were arguing, and I was screaming,” I say.
“Do you think you could identify the shooter if you saw and heard him again?”
“If he was wearing a helmet, maybe,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t know! It was dark and hectic! I was terrified,” I remind them, turning on the waterworks since I didn’t have any part of setting up the mob boss and didn’t know any of those men.
The two detectives share a look while I wipe away my tears with my fingers.
“I think that’s all we need for now,” Detective Ashby says when he gets to his feet. “You’re free to leave, Miss Walsh, but stay in town. If we make an arrest, then we’ll need you to come in for a lineup.”
“Sure, okay,” I agree as I quickly stand up and sling my purse over my shoulder. “You know where to find me.”
On the way out of the police station, I feel a great deal of relief that I’m not in trouble, but there’s also a strange sense of…foreboding.
What if the little information I gave the detectives results in those men getting arrested? Or hurts that woman who was in danger? I would feel awful, but it’s better than going down for something I didn’t do yet again.
Chapter Two
Silas
* * *
A few days later…
* * *
“Meeting in the chapel now,” Malcolm, our president and Jesus look-alike, says when he opens the back door of the pool hall where I’m smoking a joint. I’m not usually a day smoker, but the shit with Nash getting arrested has me on edge.
“Good news or bad?” I ask him when I offer him the blunt.
Malcolm narrows his eyes at the offering, opening his mouth to decline before he says, “Fuck it.” He takes a quick hit and then puts it out in the ashtray beside me. “Not great, but we may have a lead on the witness,” he says. “Let’s go. You good? We need everyone’s head on straight.”
“I’m straight as a fucking arrow,” I tell him. I barely feel a buzz thanks to the tremors of anxiety racking me.
The Dirty Aces MC has been the only home I’ve had where someone gave a shit if I lived or died. The boys aren’t just my friends but my brothers, accepting me despite my emotional distance. They would die for me, same as I would for them.
Knowing that Nash, one of the most decent and loyal human beings I’ve ever met, is currently locked up facing a life sentence is complete bullshit. It should be me