He took 60% of everything! I just did what I was told! " David didn't write anything down. He didn't need to. The room was recorded, and Miller had just confessed to the entire conspiracy on tape. "You see, Greg, that's the problem with being a predator," David said, standing up and adjusting his suit jacket.
"You get so used to picking on the weak, the scared, and the vulnerable, that you lose the ability to recognize when you've stepped into a cage with something bigger than you. " David walked to the door and grabbed the handle. "Wait, Director Coldwell," Miller pleaded, leaping up from his chair. "I can give you names. I can give you the District Attorney. O'Connor was taking cuts, too.
Please, we can make a deal. " David looked back over his shoulder, his expression devoid of any mercy. "There are no deals for men who wear a badge to steal from the people they are sworn to protect," David said softly. "Enjoy federal prison, Officer Miller. I hear they absolutely love corrupt cops in general population. " David stepped out into the hallway, the heavy steel door slamming shut behind him with a final echoing thud, sealing Greg Miller inside his own self-made purgatory. At 7:15 a.m., the sun cast a golden hue over the manicured lawns of the Foxwood Country Club Estates, the most exclusive gated community in the county.
District Attorney Michael O'Connor sat on his sweeping mahogany veranda sipping a freshly brewed espresso. He was a man who exuded the comfortable arrogant wealth of old money and unchecked political power. At 58, with perfectly silvered hair and a tailor-made silk robe, O'Connor believed he was the untouchable king of the local justice system. He reached for his morning paper, ignoring the burner phone sitting on the glass patio table. The phone had been vibrating silently for the past 2 hours.
When he finally glanced at the screen, irritation flashed across his face. 18 missed calls, six from Captain Hayes and 12 from unknown numbers. Frowning, O'Connor picked it up and dialed Hayes' personal cell. It went straight to a generic voicemail. A prickle of unease crawled up the back of O'Connor's neck.
He quickly dialed another number, his mole inside the county dispatch center. "O'Connor! " he snapped when the line connected. "Why is Hayes calling me on the burner at this hour? What's going on at the Oakridge precinct? " There was a long, terrifying pause on the other end of the line. "Mr.
Day, you haven't seen the news," the dispatcher whispered, his voice trembling. Oakridge is gone, sir. Gone? What the hell are you talking about? Speak English, man.
The FBI, sir. Dozens of them. They raided the precinct at 3:00 in the morning. They brought armored vehicles. Captain Hayes was arrested in the building.
They took the servers, the lockers, everything. The rumor is The rumor is they got the ledger. Yes, sir. The blood drained from O'Connor's face so fast he felt momentarily dizzy. The espresso cup slipped from his fingers, shattering against the expensive imported Italian tiles, splashing dark liquid across his leather slippers.