It didn’t really matter now that I was here. Taz was a liar and a traitor. No, I was just gullible. And broken.
And now that Snape was here, casting blame at me out of his flaring nostrils, I should have just considered myself caught. But I don’t like playing possum, and most certainly not when I’m holding all the cards, or at least a few of them. This interrogation was going nowhere fast, and I’m pretty sure that I’d gotten more out of Wiley about his cheating bitch of a wife than he was ever going to get out of me.
No one was going to make me talk about Johnny.
“Samuel,” Wiley’s nasally voice began. He even sounded like Alan Rickman.
I blew him a kiss. “Call me hon.”
He was not entertained. “We have enough to charge you with six counts of Possession of Narcotics with the Intent to Sell. You’re already going to prison for at least ten years. I don’t want to have to add Conspiracy to Commit Homicide or, quite simply, just plain Homicide to your list of charges, but goddamit the one word is a lot easier to write down!”
That made me giggle.
He continued, barely maintaining his grim stature. “Start cooperating with us and we’ll do everything in our power to reduce your sentence.”
I laughed, egging him on while trying to sound like an English bloke. “My good sir, this so-called list of charges you speak of is, in all actuality, just six counts of the same charge.”
His eyes slanted, almost perpendicular to the shape of his mouth. “I could have added Solicitation to your list of charges, but I’m trying to help you out here.”
Well, he had me there. He could have busted me for solicitation, seeing as how his partner had literally caught me with my pants down.
More than once.