Page 18 of Reaper & the Lioness
Amy nodded, shame coloring her expression. “I was too scared not to. But that’s not even the worst part. The cop didn’t even blink. That’s when it hit me. They’ve got the police in their pocket. That’s how Hale has gotten away with this for so long.”
I’d suspected as much based on how the police reports I’d read noted high crime in the buildings where Hale worked. Still, Amy’s testimony provided the confirmation I’d sought for months.
I nodded, taking a deep breath before asking my final question. “You lasted a lot longer than anyone else I’ve spoken to. What made you leave?”
Amy’s eyes dropped to her hands. She remained silent for a long moment, as if wrestling with whether to share this part of her story.
“I thought I was different. I thought I was safe because I wasn’t his type. I kept my head down and did my job. Then, one night, I stayed late. I was finishing some paperwork, and Hale came out of his office. He’d been drinking. He cornered me. Started talking about how loyal I was, how much he appreciated me.”
Amy took a deep breath to center herself. I stayed silent, hoping my expression showed empathy that would encourage her to open up.
“He put his hand on my shoulder, and I just froze. That’s when he leaned in and whispered, ‘It’s time you show me just how loyal you can be.’”
I fought to keep my expression neutral.
“I panicked. I shoved him away and ran. I didn’t stop running until I was in my car.” Amy’s eyes met mine through the screen, filled with shame. “I never went back. Left everything at my desk. Blocked his number and his email. I was terrified he’d come after me, but I guess I wasn’t worth the trouble.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” I paused, collecting my thoughts. This information could help us hit national headlines. “Would you be willing to go on the record with any of this?”
Panic flashed across her face. “No! Absolutely not. I signed an NDA, and Hale has eyes everywhere. If he found out I talked …” She glanced off-screen. “I have kids. I can’t risk it.”
“I completely understand and will keep this all on background. I promise.” I paused before I continued. I didn’t usually share my story with sources, but I wanted Amy to know. She needed the reassurance that I understood the seriousness of the situation.
I broke out into a cold sweat as memories flashed through my mind. “I worked at Abell Enterprises after you left and ended up in the hospital. Hale attacked me after a meeting. I’m glad you left when you did.”
Understanding and shared pain flashed in Amy’s eyes. “So this isn’t just a story to you? This is personal. Promise me you’ll nail this bastard. Make sure he can’t hurt anyone else.”
“I promise. One way or another, Hale Abell will face justice.”
As our call ended, I sat back to process Amy’s story. Every interview was one more piece of the puzzle I needed to hold Hale accountable for his actions and the extreme lengths he and his father would go to bury their secrets.
I closed my eyes. Dark memories flashed through my mind and fear pressed into my chest. The phantom pressure of Hale’s hands grasping around my throat caused my breath to catch.
I pushed the feelings away, focusing my thoughts on the brave women I’d spoken to and those too scared to come forward. Their stories of abuse and manipulation at the hands of the Hales fueled my desire for justice.
For retribution.
My arrival at the clubhouse felt different from my first few visits. Familiar faces nodded in my direction as I parked in my Jeep, and Jack offered a friendly wave. My successful placement of his story on the news lent me credibility, helping others see the value in my involvement with the club.
Rhetta had somehow transformed the yard into a raucous birthday carnival to celebrate Thane’s fiftieth. Leather-clad men and women strolled through the yard while children playedunder the trees. Rhetta mentioned it would be a family affair, but I hadn’t quite believed her until now.
A band played a lively mix of honky-tonk and classic rock. Sweat-slicked prospects hustled around massive grills, and tendrils of hickory smoke curled through the air, carrying the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling steaks.
A tent on the other side of the building drew appreciative cheers as scantily clad women twirled around gleaming poles. I couldn’t help but chuckle, picturing Rhetta’s mischievous grin as she arranged this particular surprise for her husband. When she’d first mentioned hiring strippers as a birthday gift, I’d assumed she was joking—or at least exaggerating.
Weaving through the sea of leather and denim, I found Thane holding court near the outdoor bar beside an enormous Jack Daniel’s–themed cake.
“Happy birthday.” I handed him a bottle of expensive bourbon with a bow. While Rhetta had insisted I didn’t need to bring a gift, I wanted to provide a token of appreciation to the client who had finally taken my bank account from red to black.
Thane’s eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Thanks, darlin’. Glad you could make it.” He gestured to a group of picnic tables under a cusp of oak trees. “Rhetta and the old ladies are over there if you want to join them."
I nodded in thanks as I strode across the yard and sat beside my friend. I traced the initials and crude drawings carved into the worn table with my fingers.
“How does it feel to be robbed from the cradle?” I began, a teasing lilt in my voice. “What are you, like fifteen years younger than the birthday boy?”
The other women laughed, and Rhetta swatted my arm. “Age is just a number, sugar. Besides, I keep that old man young.”
Rhetta introduced the group of old ladies I hadn’t yet met.
