CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“They think he’s the victim?” Ruger said to his brothers, huddled together on the sidewalk, still by the barricade. Their father had regained some of his composure. Although the senior Warner’s hands shook, he did his duty consoling neighbors. “That’s not going to fly.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Blaser asked.
Ruger was speed-dialing Jansen again. “I’m going to make sure the media get wind of the truth before the cops f**k this up.” Lifting the phone to his ear, he listened to it ring and looked to Colt. “If you can think of anyone you can call to get the story straight, start dialing.”
And his brother did just that as Jansen answered the phone.
“What?” Jansen asked.
Was that anger or concern saturating his voice? No doubt there was an element of both.
