Twelve
ColeI CHOKED ON the coffee. “Sorry, what was that?” I asked hoarsely.
“We received a tip today from someone claiming that she killed him,” said Walters. “A phone call.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said, knowing right away that Ronnie was behind it. “She’s marrying Tank, for one. For two, my sister isn’t a murderer.”
“Did the Devil’s Rangers put you two up to it? As an initiation into the club?” continued Walters.
“Definitely not,” I said, pissed off. “Look, you and I both know this is a load of s**t. Because of what happened earlier today, they’re trying to pin that on me and my sister.”
“Do you own a green van?” asked Walters.
The van we’d used had been ‘borrowed’ and since returned to the auto-body shop I worked part-time for. It had been a customer’s and was back in his possessio
