Read Online Gibson & Clarke (Failed Justice Series Book 2) by Rick Santini - Free Book Online
Authors: Rick Santini
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bring in some big guns—and he already had someone in mind. “Black Jack” Renaldo was one mean son-of-a-bitch. Billy was not sure Jack’s own wife and children really liked him. After more than twenty years as the United States Attorney for the Great State of West Virginia, he abruptly resigned. There were rumors of corruption in the US Attorney’s Office. Possible payoffs. Jack personally tried the high profile cases. He liked bringing someone to their knees then crushing them.
He also understood the meaning of quid pro quo.
You rub my back; I’ll rub yours.
Retirement did not sit well with Jack. His days of card counting at the casinos were far behind him. He claimed it was never true and there had been no proof. To this day, he was not allowed to play in Atlantic City or Vegas, and he was one of the highest ranking law enforcement officers in the country. After the payoff allegations surfaced, he decided to take his well-deserved pension and tell Uncle Sam to go screw himself.
Being at home was killing him. He needed action, and it appeared representing the “bad guys” was now his only option. The mere thought of sticking it up the government’s ass and breaking it off gave him a giant hard-on.
Billy Jo had had the unfortunate distinction of trying more than a few cases where Black Jack had been the prosecuting attorney. Over more than a few late night drinks, they developed a friendship. If not exactly best buddies, there was a mutual respect for the other’s ability. On a hunch, Billy called Black Jack on his private cell number. He could count on one hand the number of times he had used that number in the past dozen years.
Favors always begot favors.
“Jack, it’s me, Billy Jo Gibson.”
After a few minutes of polite talk, Billy asked the sixty-four, or was it sixty-four thousand, dollar question.
“How would you like to represent Sonny Bananas and make more money than the government ever paid you in a single year?”
The whoop and holler could be heard without the damn phone, and he had to be three hundred miles away.
“You got to be shitting me.”
“No, sir, this is the gospel. When can we meet?”
“You name the time and the place, and you can bet your skinny ass I’ll be there. Now I got to go and beat up Juli again. She’s late putting dinner on the table. Got to keep ’em in line, or who knows what they’ll do next?”
Billy Jo smiled to himself.
Nothing has ever really changed, has it?
Billy Jo had their man. Now all he had to do was tell Marta.
***
Marta had been racking her brains to come up with a name or two. Sure there were a dozen assistant district attorneys in her old office that would jump at the chance, but they were average or just slightly above average. Nobody really stood out. A young kid out of law school was out of the question. As to an old timer, they were few and far between. What Marta needed was just not available. She dreaded letting Billy know she could not come up with one good name.
***
“Does the name Black Jack Renaldo mean anything to you?
“You mean that bastard from West Virginia who was the US Attorney? Everyone knows him, and no one likes him. Why do you ask?”
“’Cause I like him. More important, he likes us.”
“Billy Jo, stop talking in riddles. What the hell is going on?”
Marta was now wondering if sleeping with the hired help was such a good idea after all. What would happen if Rik screwed up and she had to ream him out, figuratively speaking, of course?
She had no right to take out her frustration on Billy Jo.
“Problems I don’t know about, Marta?”
“Sorry, it’s been a long morning. Didn’t mean to snap at you. Now, what’s this about Black Jack Renaldo?”
Billy Jo relayed last night’s conversation. He left out the part that Black Jack had already said yes.
“I like him. He brings a ton of experience and firepower. Everyone knows who he is, and most are afraid of him. It will
He also understood the meaning of quid pro quo.
You rub my back; I’ll rub yours.
Retirement did not sit well with Jack. His days of card counting at the casinos were far behind him. He claimed it was never true and there had been no proof. To this day, he was not allowed to play in Atlantic City or Vegas, and he was one of the highest ranking law enforcement officers in the country. After the payoff allegations surfaced, he decided to take his well-deserved pension and tell Uncle Sam to go screw himself.
Being at home was killing him. He needed action, and it appeared representing the “bad guys” was now his only option. The mere thought of sticking it up the government’s ass and breaking it off gave him a giant hard-on.
Billy Jo had had the unfortunate distinction of trying more than a few cases where Black Jack had been the prosecuting attorney. Over more than a few late night drinks, they developed a friendship. If not exactly best buddies, there was a mutual respect for the other’s ability. On a hunch, Billy called Black Jack on his private cell number. He could count on one hand the number of times he had used that number in the past dozen years.
Favors always begot favors.
“Jack, it’s me, Billy Jo Gibson.”
After a few minutes of polite talk, Billy asked the sixty-four, or was it sixty-four thousand, dollar question.
“How would you like to represent Sonny Bananas and make more money than the government ever paid you in a single year?”
The whoop and holler could be heard without the damn phone, and he had to be three hundred miles away.
“You got to be shitting me.”
“No, sir, this is the gospel. When can we meet?”
“You name the time and the place, and you can bet your skinny ass I’ll be there. Now I got to go and beat up Juli again. She’s late putting dinner on the table. Got to keep ’em in line, or who knows what they’ll do next?”
Billy Jo smiled to himself.
Nothing has ever really changed, has it?
Billy Jo had their man. Now all he had to do was tell Marta.
***
Marta had been racking her brains to come up with a name or two. Sure there were a dozen assistant district attorneys in her old office that would jump at the chance, but they were average or just slightly above average. Nobody really stood out. A young kid out of law school was out of the question. As to an old timer, they were few and far between. What Marta needed was just not available. She dreaded letting Billy know she could not come up with one good name.
***
“Does the name Black Jack Renaldo mean anything to you?
“You mean that bastard from West Virginia who was the US Attorney? Everyone knows him, and no one likes him. Why do you ask?”
“’Cause I like him. More important, he likes us.”
“Billy Jo, stop talking in riddles. What the hell is going on?”
Marta was now wondering if sleeping with the hired help was such a good idea after all. What would happen if Rik screwed up and she had to ream him out, figuratively speaking, of course?
She had no right to take out her frustration on Billy Jo.
“Problems I don’t know about, Marta?”
“Sorry, it’s been a long morning. Didn’t mean to snap at you. Now, what’s this about Black Jack Renaldo?”
Billy Jo relayed last night’s conversation. He left out the part that Black Jack had already said yes.
“I like him. He brings a ton of experience and firepower. Everyone knows who he is, and most are afraid of him. It will
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