Prohibited (Tulsa City Sinners #1)

20. Roberts

Chapter twenty

Roberts

“I told you, I don’t know anything.” The redhead was sitting in a chair with Andrews standing right behind her, a revolver leveled at the back of her head. She was shaking like a fawn and her eyes were rimmed red, but the look of contempt never left her face. Roberts had to give her marks for bravery.

They were in the drawing room on the upper floor of Stanley’s mansion that overlooked the Arkansas River.

“So you say,” Stanley said. He slowly shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside onto one of the absurdly expensive chairs that furnished the room.

The whole situation with this girl was making Roberts itchy with anxiety.

He could have left already, gone home and washed his hands with nothing to worry about but his conscience wouldn’t let him do it. Stanley was getting out of control.

It was one thing when he was picking fights with his fellow scum bags, getting into dust ups, bribing guys on the Force to look the other way. But this whole Evelyn thing had ignited a whole different level of ruthlessness in the man. It was slowly dawning on Roberts that he was somewhat to blame for this monster becoming what he was.

Mutually assured destruction was a hell of a way to have a professional relationship.

He watched in nervous silence as Stanley slowly crossed the room to the crystal decanter that held the cognac that he was so fond of drinking. Exported to Mexico from Europe and smuggled up over the border through Texas. Roberts didn’t even want to know what kind of tax that long, treacherous journey added to an already absurdly expensive product.

With his deft fingers, Stanley poured a splash of cognac into a glass and then took a stiff drink, rolling his scarred lips before he turned back to the girl.

“But I think you do,” he said, at last. “I think you know a lot.”

“I don’t have anything to do with the family operation,” she said, leaning back in her chair as Stanley drew closer. “I don’t know anything about what they’ve been up to. I don’t know anything about this Evelyn woman. I’m a fucking journalist for Christ’s sake.”

Stanley eyed her knickerbockers with scorn. “A Suffragette like you? I’m shocked. Trying to make it in a man’s world, little girl?”

The young woman made a derisive sound. “I’m trying to make it in the world. It doesn’t belong to anyone. ”

Oh, Christ. Was he really going to have to sit through a tired philosophical political debate while the anxiety-induced ulcer in his stomach threatened to kill him?

“A woman has one place,” Walter Stanley said, staring down at her with his cold, impassive face. “And that’s where I want her.”

“Oh please,” the redhead said, tipping her face away. “Men don’t run the world. They only think they do.”

Stanley’s hand darted out and caught her face between his fingers, turning it back toward him. “I don’t know about ‘men’, darlin’, but I do know about me. And as far as you’re concerned, I do run the world.” Stanley let that sink in and stared down into the girl’s defiant, tawny eyes with his cold blue ones. “Now, you’re going to tell me everything you know about that fucking idiotic family of yours. And understand this: you’ll tell me the easy way, or you’ll tell me because I had to ask the hard way. But either way, you are going to tell me everything I want to know.”

She laughed in his face, a slightly hysterical sound, but the bravado nearly floored Roberts. Oh, to be young and stupid again. “I’ll never tell you anything. Kill me, go ahead. I would never betray my brother or my cousin.”

“You know,” Stanley said, straightening up slowly. He drained the glass and held it over her head to Andrews, who took it with his free hand. “I admit I was torn–the easy way would have meant a faster conclusion to this business. The hard way, though… I admit I have a weakness for the hard way. ”

A dark, simmering heat entered Stanley’s unnaturally blue eyes as he looked down at the woman in the chair. He slowly leaned forward, placing both of his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of her, until he was almost nose to nose with her. Though she leaned away from him, she never looked away from him. The pale column of her throat worked as she swallowed hard, but the glare of defiance never left her face.

“Get the fuck away from me,” she said, in a low voice that was full of her effort to stay calm.

Roberts took a step forward and then stopped himself.

“Roberts,” Stanley said. “Andrews. Get the fuck out.”

“Wh–” Roberts started to say. “I don’t think–”

Stanley looked at him, anger leaching some of the heat out of his face. “Get the fuck out. The lady and I are going to spend some time alone together.”

“What do you mean–” the girl said, looking up at Stanley with real fear.

Andrews’ huge and merciless hand was suddenly biting into Roberts’ shoulder, steering him out of the room. Roberts ripped his eyes away from hers, trying to unsee the look of terror in her eyes. Telling himself there was nothing he could do. If he tried, he would get them both killed.

“No! No!” the young woman screamed behind him suddenly. “Please! Please don’t leave! You fucking– don’t– Please don’t leave me! You’re a fucking police man! Don’t you fucking touch me, you bastard, don’t– NO!”

The door closed behind him, muffling the screams on the other side, though he was sure they would live at maximum volume in his memory for the rest of his life.

He closed his eyes and breathed in and out through his nose, pinching the bridge of it and wishing he had a drink.

Something had to be done about Walter Stanley.