Chapter Thirty-Four

Several hours later, Axel and Troy dragged Stacey’s employees, Bill Rush and Hans Rudder, into the fire marshal’s office. Rush had been difficult to locate, but Pervert and Metal Man had finally found him hiding out at a relative’s place. Troy had given Pervert and Metal Man leave to return to the club, not needing their muscle.

Wren stood and scowled at as he and Axel pushed the two men into his office and shoved them into the chairs in front of Wren’s desk. He stood and barked at Troy, “It’s still Sunday, you know. What the hell’s going on?”

Mark Oliver hurried into Wren’s office, his face aghast as he surveyed the two Slayers, then the bruise marks on Stacey’s two employees. “You beat these men?”

“I haven’t laid a finger on them,” Troy said. “Did I bash you, boys?”

Rudder shook his head and stared at his feet. Rush didn’t answer.

“Thought you’d be interested in questioning these men about the fire at Miss Martin’s warehouse,” Troy said.

Axel crossed his arms, his face serious, though Troy could tell he was amused by the shocked looks on the marshals’ faces.

“You.” Troy thumped Bill Rush’s shoulder. “Why don’t you tell the marshals, here, how you convinced Miss Martin’s father to give you access to his bank account when he was dying of cancer, and how you then proceeded to rob him blind?”

Troy strolled around Wren’s desk and sat in his chair, curling his fingers into fists.

“Get out of the marshal’s chair,” Oliver ordered angrily.

“I will when I’ve finished doing his job for him,” Troy returned. “Wouldn’t want you pinning a fire on an innocent.”

Oliver’s face went puce.

Wren scowled at him.

Troy put his feet up on the desk. “Tell him what you did,” he ordered Bill.

“I…I torched Stacey’s place. She was doing an audit. She was going to report me to the police,” Rush blurted out.

Wren contemplated Rush for a moment then turned to Hans Rudder. “What was your role in this?” he asked.

“I just sold the spare parts. I didn’t do nothing else. I don’t want to go to jail,” the man wailed. “I have kids.”

Troy nodded at Axel. “Our work is done here.” He stood and strolled out from behind the desk.

“I’d say it is,” Axel replied. He clapped Troy’s shoulder as they walked to the door.

“You think we’ll actually believe confessions that were beaten out of these men?” Oliver asked with a sneer.

Troy turned, determined to keep his temper reined in. “No. I think you’re going to do your damn job.”

“You’ve got a nerve,” Oliver said.

“I did not beat them. I don’t like bruises on my hands.” He held them up to show the marshals they were bruise-free. “I’m planning to take my fiancée on a fancy date tonight, to celebrate you turning these shitheads over to the police to arrest for the arson on her property.”

“I received Miss Martin’s comprehensive email with her business accounts, order records, her audit, and a list of the stolen goods,” Wren said to his assistant. “Everything adds up.”

“Do I need to locate the stolen goods for you, too, Oliver?”

“We’ll handle this from now on,” Wren snarled.

“Good,” Troy said.

“I know you were behind that rocket launcher attack,” Oliver snapped. “One day I’ll prove it and nail your ass.”

“I’ll keep my ass to myself, thanks,” Troy said with a grin. “Better luck next time.”