“Fuck, man, that would be great.”
A little while later I leave the bar sober and feeling like maybe a small part of my life is coming together.
***
The next morning I have to shade my eyes against the sun’s glare in the room as I roll over to pick up my cell phone and see who’s calling. Irritation flares through me as Agent Bass’s name flashes across the screen.
“Yeah,” I answer, as I sit up.
“Ben, it’s Agent Bass. We were wondering if you could come down to the bureau this morning. Josh Hart’s trial concluded yesterday and I’d like to fill you in.”
I throw myself back on the bed trying to process what she just said. “Ummm . . . yeah, sure but I was never called to testify.”
“I’ll explain when you get here.”
“I just have to swing by the office and then I’ll head over.”
I hang up. Fuck, what the hell is going on? Why is Hart’s trial concluding already? And why hasn’t the drug cartel’s trial even begun? I can’t stand being left in the dark. All I know is that I am to stay put until all of the legal proceedings across these multiple cases are complete.
Last night I called Jason to ask him if he could help me out with Ruby’s situation. He said it was no problem. He had a buddy still on the force who he’d talk to. I was actually surprised that he agreed so quickly. But when I asked him what he knew about the data on the flash drive, he told me he had no idea what I was talking about. I’m going to throw it all on table today when I meet with Bass. Like I said, I hate being left in the fucking dark.
Before getting up, I roll over and grab my journal from the nightstand. I quickly flip to the entry made on March third, three years ago—that’s today, the anniversary of my death. Quickly skimming over those painful thoughts, I find an entry that was made much later—the day I learned Dahl had been attacked.
***
When I saw her beautiful face bruised and battered, my gut instinct was that that son of a bitch sitting next to her had hit her. It wasn’t until she left and Caleb sat me down that I realized her injuries were a direct result of my actions. Fuck me—what had I done? How can I ever make this up to her? I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I need her to give me the chance . . . because if she does I’ll spend my whole life making it right. I swear I will.
I knew then the incident must have had something to do with me, and it did. Actually, she was hurt because of me—because for some reason even after I shut up, even after I killed the story, even after I gave everything except that one flash drive to Caleb, it wasn’t enough. I sit there for the longest time with my head in my hands until I’m able to move. Today is the day I get to the bottom of this—Bass needs to come clean.
***
I’m riding as fast as I can, weaving in and out of stopped cars to get to the courthouse. Entering the building, I empty my pockets and walk through the detectors. I announce myself at the reception desk and within five minutes Agent Bass is guiding me down that same fucking hall. She ushers me into the conference room and a fresh wave of panic overtakes me. Why would I get called in at the end of the trial? Is he going free?
“Ben, have a seat,” she says.
“What’s going on?” I stare at her.
She meets my glance head-on. “We couldn’t call you to testify because we couldn’t charge Hart with anything to do with the cartel. We just haven’t been able to link him to the heads of the operation. All the evidence we have is circumstantial and hearsay. He was tried strictly on aggravated assault and battery charges. The court reconvened yesterday and the verdict is in.”
I look at her in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? A pony charge?”
“Ben, look, we’re not giving up. We just can’t find anything solid to link him to the cartel. All we have is the attack on Dahlia London, which isn’t enough. The District Attorney didn’t want to wait, he pushed the case through.”
My ears start to ring and I feel like I’m beginning to hyperventilate. Bass pulls a chair out and this time I sit. After a few minutes I look up at her. “Did Dahl have to testify?”
“No, there was a witness and that was enough.”
Thank, fuck. I’d have hated for her to have to go through that.
“Ben, we need more information. There has to be a connection. Someone had to have contacted Hart when he was first released. We need to figure out who it was.”
My jaw clenches. “You have all I had. Did you ask Jason about it?”
She forms a scowl. “Jason?”
“Jason Holt, Caleb’s brother. He’s a vice detective.”
“No, I haven’t. Should I?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure, but Caleb mentioned him when I brought up the flash drive. I thought maybe you were working together.”
“His name isn’t familiar. I’ll look into it. Ben, are you sure you didn’t keep a copy of anything?”