Rebecca Zanetti - Under the Covers

She stopped. “Quinn, I—”

“Save your statement for the DEA. I don’t want to hear it.” Quinn motioned her ahead of him, his gut clenching at how her hands trembled. Didn’t she know he’d have to testify about anything she said to him?

“Of course,” she said formally. “I apologize.”

For the first time in eight years, he hated the fact that he was the sheriff.

Juliet shifted on the cold metal chair in the interrogation room. Chilly and intimidating, the room was small with unadorned, dingy, white walls. “I understand my rights as you’ve read them to me.”

Reese nodded from across the scarred wooden table. “All right. Let’s get started.”

Quinn leaned against the far corner, his massive arms crossed. “No. Not yet.”

Reese raised an eyebrow. “Sheriff Lodge, if you’re going to be difficult, I’ll ask you to leave.”

Fire lanced through Quinn’s gaze. In the loosened white shirt and black suit, he looked like a panther ready to strike.

Panic lanced Juliet’s chest. Two old friends might fight because of her. “I’m ready to get started, and I’ll answer anything you ask.”

“No, you won’t,” Quinn ground out.

“Why the hell not?” Reese asked, irritation curling his upper lip.

The door slid open. “I assume it’s because my client is waiting for her lawyer.” Smooth as silk, Jake Lodge stepped into the room. He’d donned a slate-gray Armani suit and carried a hand-stitched leather briefcase. “Would you gentlemen please excuse us so my client and I can confer?”

Reese slowly turned his head to glare at Quinn. “You called your brother?”

Quinn headed for the door. “She has a right to a lawyer. I figured, why not get the best?” He disappeared into the hallway.

Reese stood and rounded on Jake. “You have ten minutes.”

Jake smiled. “I’ll take as long as I want, Agent Johnson. Now get the hell out.” He slid into Reese’s vacated spot.

“Fine. I’ll go talk to Freddy now.” Reese swore under his breath as he left the room. The door slammed shut.

Jake’s face gentled. “How you holding up?”

Tears pricked the back of her eyes. “Not so well. Quinn is mad at me.”

“Ah, yes. But we need to be concerned with the drug charges right now, Juliet.”

“He’s really angry with me.” Who cared about drugs? She wanted Quinn to look at her like he did yesterday.

Jake coughed into his hand. “I need you to focus here.”

“Of course.” Relying on years of experience, she drew dignity close. “What do you want to know?”

Jake lifted one dark eyebrow in an expression Quinn often wore. “Everything.”

Juliet took a deep breath. “All right, but I’m only telling the story once. Please ask Quinn to come back.”

“Sheriff Lodge will be subpoenaed to testify as to anything you say. Let’s bring him into this conversation after I figure out our best move.”

Juliet straightened. “I’m going to tell him everything, anyway. You’re my lawyer, and you have to follow my wishes.”

“Your wishes are going to land you in federal prison.” Jake rubbed his scruffy jaw. Apparently he hadn’t had time to shave when changing clothes. “It’s well after midnight, you’re tired, and you might not be thinking clearly. Trust me on this. You don’t want Quinn in here quite yet.”

“I can’t do this twice, and he deserves to hear the full truth.” He’d given her his trust, and she owed him. So she had to tell the full truth and not hide behind the law.

Jake shook his head. “You’re acting against the advice of your lawyer.”

“I know.”

Jake stood and ripped open the door. “Quinn?”

Quinn appeared immediately. “What?”

“She wants to include you in this meeting.” Still shaking his head, Jake retook his seat.

Quinn frowned. “That’s crazy.”

“I know, but she only wants to tell the story once.” Jake grabbed a legal pad from his briefcase to slide onto the table.

Juliet looked at Quinn. “Do your job and listen to my story, Quinn.”

His jaw tightened until it had to hurt. “You’re putting me in a terrible position.”

She sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

Anger blazed in his eyes, but he retook his position in the far corner. Of course, he’d followed duty. She’d counted on his sense of honor.

“I lied to you, and I’m sorry.” Clearing her throat, she focused her gaze on her hands. “When I turned ten, my mother married Dominique Spazzoli. He was a criminal. Mainly illegal betting operations, but probably some blackmail and extortion. He took me in, gave me a home, and I loved him.” She swallowed and glanced at Quinn’s expressionless face. “I know he was a criminal, but he was good to me.” Not even to get out of a federal drug charge would she say anything bad about Dom. He was the closest thing she had to a father, and he’d loved her, too.

“Did you partake in any illegal activity growing up?” Quinn asked.

Jake jerked his head toward Quinn. “You’re invited to listen and not ask questions, Sheriff.”

“Bullshit.” Quinn’s arms uncrossed. “I’m here, and I’m partaking. Deal with it, counselor.”

Wonderful. Now the brothers were going to come to blows. Juliet cleared her throat again. “No. Dom kept me as far away from the criminal activities as possible. He didn’t deal with drugs. Freddy entered the drug trade when Dom died.”

“You entered with him?” Quinn asked.

“Of course not.” A shiver racked her.

“Damn it, it’s too cold in here.” Quinn yanked off his suit jacket and dropped the heavy material over her shoulders.

Instant warmth and the scent of male surrounded her. Something inside her stomach softened. “Not on purpose. The Children’s Art Clinic of New Jersey hired me to teach a couple of classes a week to kids. I had so much fun teaching those kids how to sculpt.” Her hands trembled, so she clasped them together. “The CAC is a nonprofit that exposes underprivileged kids to the arts. The job didn’t pay much, but I loved it.”

Jake tapped his silver pen on the pad. “The CAC was a drug front?”

“Not at all. Freddy put the drugs in my trunk, I drove from New York to Jersey, and somebody would take the drugs out while I taught classes.”

Quinn dropped into the one vacant chair by his brother. “Did you know?”

“No.” She allowed her own stupidity to reflect in her voice. “For six months, I ran drugs, and I had no clue.”

Quinn shook his head. “The kind of danger you must’ve been in…”

She nodded. “I’m a moron. How could anybody have no clue they were trafficking drugs across state lines for six months? But really, how often to you look in your trunk if you’re not storing stuff?”

Quinn stared at his brother. “If she had no idea, if she had no intent to traffic, there’s no crime, right?”

Jake slowly nodded.

Juliet shook her head. “Seriously? I’m Dom Spazzoli’s stepdaughter and Freddy Spazzoli’s stepsister. No way would a federal prosecutor or jury believe I was unaware of the drug transfer. Period.”

“She has a point,” Jake said.

“Besides”—she picked at a sequin on her dress, wanting to get it all out there—“I didn’t call the cops once I found out. I called Freddy and yelled at him. He had me look at a building across the street that had a camera pointed right at me. I was on camera for six months. Freddy believes in insurance policies.”

“Did the cameras ever catch you looking in the trunk?” Jake asked, scribbling on his notepad.

“Not until the day I discovered what was going on,” she said quietly. Crap, she really needed to tell the whole story. “So, I got out of town. I mean, I acquired false identification and got out of town.”

Jake held up a hand. “I believe what my client means is a friend of hers supplied her with false identification. She neither purchased it, nor has she used it since.”

Juliet frowned. “No, I—”

“Good enough,” Quinn growled. “We can revisit the false-identification issue later. For now, I want you to tell me everything you learned about Freddy’s drug business.”

The door opened, and Reese pushed a rickety cart holding an older television on top of a DVD player. “Freddy was very cooperative and supplied me with a video that is quite intriguing.” He plugged in the electronics and grabbed a rusty remote.

Jake slammed his pen down. “We’re in the middle of something.”

Reese flashed a dangerous smile. “I understand what you’re doing. However, why don’t we watch this video? Afterward, I’ll leave so you can confer with your client on how she wants to plead this out.”

Ice-cold fingers traced Juliet’s spine. This was so not going to be good. Her shoulders straightened, and she flashed Quinn an apologetic grimace. “Push play, Agent Johnson.”

Reese engaged the television and player before starting the video. Several minutes went by that showed several wrapped white packages put into her trunk in front of her apartment in New York and then taken out of her trunk in New Jersey. The men involved were Freddy’s lackeys, but not once did Freddy make an appearance.

Quinn wandered to lean against the far wall.

Jake stretched his neck. “First, there’s no proof those are drugs. Second, not once has Juliet been on screen with the trunk open. You’ve got nothing, Agent.”

Reese pressed a button. “Let’s fast-forward to the end, shall we?”

Juliet briefly closed her eyes. “Good idea.”

The tape scrolled forward until it showed the events of the day that changed her life forever. The camera captured her leaving the art clinic just in time to see a man slam her trunk closed. She stilled, and he ran away. A frown marring her face, she’d hustled forward and opened the trunk.