Carver?”
Wesley scratched his neck in irritation. “Because he said he did.”
“He could’ve been lying.”
“I don’t think so. He knew I owed The Carver money.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. This Leonard character could’ve been using The Carver’s name to pressure you into something he wanted done.”
Wesley scoffed. “That makes no sense. The Carver and his son were the ones who didn’t want the body autopsied.”
Lucas spread his hands. “I’m just telling you what a defense attorney will say. From where I sit, you got nothing on Hollis Carver that can be corroborated.”
Wesley looked at Liz, at a loss.
“What about calls between Hollis Carver and the celebrity’s publicist?” Liz asked Lucas. “They were the masterminds of the scheme.”
“We have a record of phone calls, but the content of the calls could’ve been about anything. For all we know, they could’ve been lovers.” Lucas leered at Liz pointedly.
But Liz didn’t shrink from the D.A.’s sly remark. “I would think that the publicist would be falling all over herself to turn on Hollis Carver.”
A.D.A. Meriwether looked down and shifted in her seat.
Liz looked from Lucas to Meriwether and gave a dry laugh. “Wait a minute. The publicist has already made a deal, hasn’t she?”
Lucas took his arrogant time answering. “Yes. So as it turns out, we don’t need your client’s testimony after all, Ms. Fischer. Although it’s good to know that his story corroborates the publicist’s.”
Wesley heaved a huge sigh of relief and pushed to his feet. “I’m outta here.” Once the room was vacated, he’d come back to rescue the flattened capsule.
But Liz stopped him with a warning glance.
“Not so fast, Wren,” Lucas said, then leaned back in his seat with a satisfied smile. “You confessed to conspiring to steal a body.”
Wesley sat back down, his stomach churning with dread. Something was up.
“But the body wasn’t stolen,” Liz protested. “And my client came clean.”
“Only after the plan was foiled,” Lucas returned. “And besides confessing to a felony, your client’s actions revoke his previous probation. He’s going to jail.”
Panic skewered Wesley’s chest. He’d spent a few hours in jail when he’d been arrested for hacking into the courthouse computer. He’d passed the time and kept the pervs at bay by teaching the other guys in holding how to play Texas Hold ‘Em poker, but he didn’t relish the thought of going back.
Liz angled her head. “Kelvin, isn’t this all a moot point? We both know that Hollis Carver is an informant for the APD and will probably get a pass.”
Lucas blanched. “Who told you that he was an informant?”
“I have my sources,” Liz said silkily.
Wesley pressed his lips together. Liz must be back to banging Detective Jack Terry again, if they’d ever stopped.
“So why drag us in here today?” she demanded. “What do you want, Kelvin?”
The D.A. screwed up his mouth and bared his crooked teeth. “Maybe young Wren here has some information about his long-lost daddy he’d like to trade for his freedom?”
Wesley fisted his hands and started to rise. “You motherfu—”
“Wesley—” Liz cut in sharply, reaching up to place her hand on his chest. “Sit down.”
He dropped back into the chair, but didn’t bother to hide his contempt for Lucas.
“We’ve been over this before,” Liz said calmly. “My client doesn’t know anything about the whereabouts of his father. Come on, there must be something else we can do to work this out. Wesley is performing well under the terms of his probation, his supervisor in the city computer department says he’s excelling at his community service.”
Lucas’s mouth formed a long, thin line. “If your client is so smart, he’ll take what I have to offer.”
Liz wet her lips. “Which is?”
“I want Hollis Carver behind bars on something that will stick. I think his son is distributing drugs for him.”
Liz gave a dry laugh. “You want to set up your own informant?”
“We only made Carver an informant so he’d let down his guard. We thought we’d be able to get closer to him, but we need someone on the inside.”
Liz’s shoulders went rigid. “You want my client to go undercover in The Carver’s organization?”
A smile spread over Lucas’s toady face. “It’s a win-win situation. He gets to work off his debt to The Carver, and work off his debt to society at the same time.”
Liz shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. The man is an animal.”
“It’ll be safer,” the D.A. insisted. “Your client won’t be running from The Carver, he’ll be working for him. He’ll be too valuable to rough up.”
“Why should I trust you?” Wesley asked. “You went back on the deal you made with my sister.”
“This one will be put in writing,” Lucas said.
Wesley barked out a hoarse laugh. “What am I supposed to do, just walk up to The Carver and ask him to put me on the payroll?”
Lucas nodded. “Something like that. We’ll provide you with a contact in the APD who will guide you through the process.”
“How long are we talking about here?” Liz asked. “A few weeks? Months?”
“That depends on your client’s ability to blend in with criminals.” Lucas smirked. “Something tells me he’ll be good at it.”
A backhanded compliment, Wesley realized, even with his mind racing in circles. “My sister will worry herself sick—”
“You can’t tell your sister,” the D.A. interrupted. “No one can know except the people in this room and your contact at the police department. If we discover that you’ve told anyone, even your damn priest, we’ll find another stool pigeon, and you’ll be put in a cage, got it, Wren?”
Anger was a powerful motivator, Wesley realized. His mind was misfiring and sputtering, but even through the haze, he could process pure emotion. From now on, his life’s mission was to get even with Kelvin Lucas, to humiliate him the way he’d humiliated the Wren family.
The D.A. splayed his hands. “So what do you say, Wesley? Do you want to work for me or do you want to go to jail and make new friends?” Under the table, Lucas moved his foot back and forth. The capsule had burst and the precious white powder was being ground into the carpet.
Wesley gritted his teeth against the desperation swelling in his chest. God, how he’d love to spit in the man’s face. But his sister would be devastated if he went to jail. And he couldn’t very well help his father if he was sitting in the slammer.
“And all charges against my client regarding the body-snatching incident will be dropped?” Liz asked.
“I’ll drop it to a misdemeanor and add to his community service for appearances’ sake. That way no one’s suspicious.”
Liz turned toward Wesley. “It’s a good deal,” she murmured. “My advice is to take it.”
“And what if The Carver finds out what I’m doing?” Wesley asked, rubbing his arm where the man had already etched part of his name.
“Make