Page 72 of Ink's Devil

Sykes shakes his head and continues, “Second, Mr McNeish and his club were aware that the police were staking out Tits Up and the surrounding area that night. Under those circumstances, if the dealer was aware of the presence of the cops, he would be a million miles away from the action. Not walking toward it as my client had done.”

“So, Mr McNeish isn’t the brightest tool in the box. Maybe he had customers he couldn’t disappoint and thought he could get away with it.”

Sykes eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. “My client is a Marine. I presume he’s passed his aptitude tests.”

“Mr McNeish is an ex-Marine. People change.”

I seethe.Once a Marine, always a Marine.But I keep dumb. I’m worried about opening my mouth and anything I say being twisted.

“Do you need money, Mr McNeish?” Barker asks. “Are you dealing on the side?”

“I have a good job. I’m a mechanic and I work at our auto-shop. I live at the club, so my expenditure is small. I have more than enough for the things I want in life.”

It’s Hastings turn to scoff. “Anyone can get greedy.” He taps the table with his fingers, then after a few seconds, proposes, “If we buy your story that another man was there, how about you just being opportunistic? Seeing what you thought were drugs and taking them, not to give up, but to sell yourself, or share with the club to provide funds?”

I do not want the club being dragged into this.

But Sykes gets in first. “Mr McNeish has just told you exactly what he was doing. He was headingtowardthe cops. He was going to turn what he’d found in. It’s a shame the man slipped past him, but you have gotten the drugs off the street and have arrested this Fender Childs who presumably was going to sell them. I do not think you have a case against Mr McNeish and ask you to release him.”

“We are continuing our investigations. While we do, Mr McNeish will stay on remand.”

As I expected, I won’t be going home to my club. Not today. Maybe never. Barker and Hastings weren’t at all convinced by my story, and if I’m honest, I wasn’t myself.

Chapter Twenty

Beth

“What’s going on?” I ask for the hundredth time, as Demon walks past.

“Beth,” my mom says, “when they know something, they’ll tell you.” Her voice sounds tired and she looks pale. It had come as a shock to her to have been woken at dawn and then to find out she had boxes containing an unbelievable amount of drugs in her son’s old bedroom, which Connor had stored without her knowledge and definitely not her approval. When she’d appeared in the clubhouse, she’d been shaking and demanding to know what was going on.

I think partly to shut her up, Demon had agreed I could bring her up to speed. She wouldn’t have stopped without a full explanation of why I, and now she, were here. One question led to another, and I found I’d been unable to hold anything back as Mom used her best mother’s investigative techniques to get to the bottom of what, who and why. With the result, she’s now also having to deal with the information that her son is missing, and possibly injured or dead. In my view, she’s holding up remarkably.

Demon’s eyes flicker with concern as he views my mom before his expression turns stern when he addresses me, “I’ve got no news, Beth, other than what I’ve already told you. Cad hasn’t been successful getting any answer from the phone, and he’s still working on finding your brother’s location, or at least, where he made the calls from.”

Yes. I knew that. Cad’s been doing all he can to find Connor. That I can understand his difficult task, doesn’t mean I like it. “It was more than twelve hours ago I last spoke to him,” I cry out, reminding Demon. “Connor might be dead.” I ignore the gasp from my mom, but it’s not the first time I’ve voiced that fear. She already knows that either willing or not, her son set up her daughter, and that it was only Ink sacrificing himself that means it’s not me locked up in a jail cell right now. I get to my feet and take hold of Demon’s sleeve as if to stop him moving away. “Demon, there must be something we can do. Let me try to contact Phil…”

“Beth,” he says sharply, “Phil Foster is a man we’ve got in our sights, but I want more information before I confront him. We’ve got to step carefully for now. I will do nothing that could jeopardise Ink getting his freedom—unless you know more about him than you’ve already told me?” When I shake my head—neither Mom nor I have anything other than the belief Phil’s into shady dealings with no specifics at all—Demon continues, “I need to know whether Phil Foster is involved, and if so, in what way, before we approach him.”

“Beth, come and sit down.” Mom clearly realises Demon is fast approaching the point where he’s going to stop being tolerant of my constant questions.

I release my hold on his sleeve, and Demon steps away. I sit again beside Mom on the couch. Jeannie appears, and two fresh cups of coffee are placed in front of us.

“You okay?” she asks, looking from one of us to the other.

Mindful Demon asked me to keep what I know to myself, I meet her eyes, and just confirm the little she already knows. “As much as anyone can be when the man they’ve been seeing has been arrested.”

Her expression softens. “Seen it too often before, sweetie. Just sit tight and let the club sort it out.”

That would be easier were it not all my fault, and if I wasn’t the reason Ink had been taken by the police. Something everyone other than the women are very aware of.

Jeannie might have been sympathetic, and Mel, of course, is supportive though doesn’t know the half of what’s gone on. On the other hand, Ink’s brothers who know it all give off a vibe they really don’t want me here. So much so, rather than a friend of the club, I feel like an intruder. I shiver at just some of the looks sent my way and wish I were anywhere else but here. Question is, where’s better? Cad’s my best hope of finding Connor, and Demon is waiting on information about Ink. I’ll just have to grow a thick skin around men who are blaming me that Ink isn’t here.

Without Ink here, I’m nothing to the club, other than a friend of Mel’s. No greater connection than being the fuck buddy of a brother who, down to no fault of his own, is now in jail.

I wanted to be something to Ink.Hell, I was going to talk to him about starting a real relationship, wasn’t I? That he’d done what he did, stopped me from being arrested, surely suggests he’s got feelings for me too? Fuck Connor for messing up two lives. Though I’m trying to hang onto the hope that Ink might walk free and we can have the discussion I’ve been planning. Though it’s more likely, he’ll want nothing to do with me. No one else has bought my explanation for what I did.

Everyone here, including Mom, thinks I’ve been stupid. I can’t criticise them for that. There are a hundred other routes I could have taken, none of which would have ended with their innocent brother behind bars. In the cold light of this Sunday morning, my reasoning last night is questionable at best, and it’s not just me being punished for it. That the man who could have been the love of my life is lost to me now, tears my heart in two. But what shreds it into pieces is when I wonder what he’s going through.What’s he thinking?I feel so damn miserable, and so damn guilty.

---