Biker's Virgin

His smile was starting to irritate the crap out of me, but I knew that pissing off the detective in charge of my case was not the right way to go about this. I suppressed every irritable emotion I was feeling and kept my cool.

“I know that sounds like a convenient excuse,” I said. “I know it sounds like an excuse period—but I don’t do drugs!”

“Fair enough,” Detective Jones nodded. “You don’t do drugs. I can believe that easily. With pounds and pounds of hard drugs stored away in your closet, I never thought for a second that you were going to take the lot yourself. You don’t look like you do drugs, in any case—but that doesn’t mean you don’t deal. Now dealing is very believable.”

“The drugs were found in my closet?” I burst out, ignoring everything else he had just said.

“Oh, right,” Detective Jones said, raising his eyebrows at me. “You had no idea they were in your closet, am I right?”

“I’m not acting.”

The detective only smiled. “Have you retained a lawyer yet?”

I tensed a little. I had no way of contacting Sarge and asking about the lawyer he said he would set up for me. I had used my one phone call on Megan, and that turned out to be a huge mistake.

“I have to see about getting one,” I said.

“We can set you up with a lawyer.”

“Not necessary,” I said quickly, pinning all my hopes on Sarge and banking on him keeping his promise. I wondered if he would let me down, too…much like Megan had. “Sarge will pull through. He’s a man of his word.”

“This is your boss, Sargent Green?” the detective asked.

“Yes,” I said. “He’s been my boss for years now, and there’s no Sergeant more diligent about shit like this. He expects the highest ethical standards from every man under his command. Do you really think I would have kept my job this long had I been dealing drugs all this time? The fire station conducts random checks, too…”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Detective Jones replied. “I already told you, I didn’t believe you were doing drugs, so why would random drug tests be a problem for you?”

I shook my head. “While you’re wasting time with me, the real drug dealers are still out there. This is just a temporary distraction, you realize. They were scared of being caught, and they decided to palm the buck and frame someone else. That person goes to jail, the focus is off them, they get to lay low for a little while, and then they start dealing again.”

Detective Jones was about to say something, but I was on a roll, and I didn’t want his cynicism to get in the way of my logic. “And another thing… They say they found pounds of drugs in my apartment. Well, if I had been dealing for a while, don’t you think I could have afforded a better apartment? Hell, don’t you think I could have afforded a nice enough engagement ring for my girlfriend?”

“You have a girlfriend?” Detective Jones asked, zeroing in on that bit of information.

I suppressed a sigh, realizing that they would probably send a cop in to see and speak to Megan to ask her if she saw any signs that I was dealing while we were together.

“Yes,” I said tightly.

“Her name?”

I hesitated for a moment, and Detective Jones seemed to notice the pause. “Come now, Mr. Roberts,” he said. “If you have nothing to hide, then you won’t have a problem with us talking to a few people in your life, right?”

“Her name is Megan Jacobs,” I replied.

“And her address please?”

“Three-two-four, Hightower Apartments, Block C, Elvin Street,” I rattled on.

“And where does she work?”

“Bradshaw’s,” I said. “It’s a local retail company.”

“Excellent, thank you,” said Detective Jones, giving me another one of his annoying fucking smiles.

“My pleasure,” I said darkly.

“You have a brother, don’t you?” he asked suggestively.

I tensed a little, but I nodded immediately. “Yes.”