Page 72 of Fatal Strike
Jon had heard pathetic whining before. Back a criminal against a wall, and he still thought he had bargaining power. In this case, Henry had a little leverage if he’d provide names. “You cooperate, and I’ll see about reducing your sentence to violent street gang involvement and hacking—by your admittance. Three people might be alive if you hadn’t given the killers a way into their computers.”
“But I know some bad stuff going down. I expect a better deal—”
Everson bellowed out a swear. “Like your hands slapped so you can walk the street again, free to murder?”
Jon bored his attention into Everson. “We have this.”
Everson dragged his tongue over his lower lip and glared atJon.
At Jon’s nod, Leah resumed questioning with the gentleness he’d come to expect. “Nasty bruise on your face. How’d it happen?”
“I fell yesterday.”
“Where were you?”
“Don’t remember.”
“Could it have been the Falstaff building?”
Jon inwardly startled. Could Henry have been Brad Dixon’s partner?
Henry hung his head and nodded. “I want out of this mess.”
“So you were with Brad Dixon,” she said. “What were you planning to do?”
“He’d left something in the priest’s office from another time. He wanted out of the gang—we both did. But before he left the island, he wanted to make confession. When he was ready to talk to Father Gabriel, Everson walked in. Dixon got scared ’cause he had school bus on him.”
Jon recognized the slang for Xanax. “What happened then?”
“When the priest left with the cop, Dixon hid the pills on a closet shelf. The boss got real mad and told him to get the drugs or he’d kill ’im. I went with Dixon ’cause he asked me. Then we planned to leave for Mexico.”
“Did you kill him?”
Henry shook his head wildly. “I don’t know who fired the shot.”
“Were the drugs recovered?”
He nodded. “There were three of us. The other guy gave them to me later, and I made the drop.”
“Who?”
“Not going there.”
“Really? I thought you wanted to help. Where did you take the drugs?”
“I’m not saying anything else unless I get a better deal.”
Leah sighed. “Like Agent Colbert, I want to help. But you’ve got to give me info and names.”
“I’m a dead man!”
“We want to keep you safe,” she said. “But think about the families of victims who are crying for justice. If Dixon left the drugs in Father Gabriel’s office, why ransack it?”
“We were high. The boss wanted Dixon to leave syringes in the priest’s office and look for anything to implicate him in the judge’s death. Neither of us wanted to go to hell for planting evidence on a priest.”
“Where are the syringes now?”
“Tossed them in the Falstaff building.” Henry sighed. “I’ll tell you what I can, but I need protection.”
