I spent the night thinking about how I was going to arrest Sawyer and make it stick. All I had was a hunch—no, more than a hunch, an educated guess that Sawyer's crew did the crime. But how could I pin it on the President?
Ariel purred next to me, rolled over and stretched out. I rubbed her belly and she closed her eyes. “What do you think I should do, kitty?” Ariel twitched as she began to dream. Probably about hunting mice. “A lot of help you are.”
The officers on the roof across from the junkyard found a discarded cigarette with a partial thumb print. I was still waiting back from the lab to see if they found a match. No way it would be Sawyer, he'd get one of his men to pull the trigger. But it would be a start. Maybe get the shooter to roll over on Sawyer?
The next morning I knew what my mission was. I crawled out of my sleeping bag and dressed in beige slacks and a light blue button-up. I pulled my hair back and put it in a ponytail. I made sure my pistol was loaded and holstered it on my hip. Small chance I'd have to use it but better safe than sorry. I scratched Ariel under the chin and said my goodbyes.
I dropped by the police station and took a squad car. If I was going to arrest Sawyer, then it needed to be official. Johnson tried to convince me let him come along. “For your protection,” he said. I told him I was a big girl and could take care of myself. I drove over to the Rabid Dog abandoned warehouse. Nothing screamed criminal more than an abandoned warehouse. A line of Harleys were lined up outside confirming that I had the right place.
I sat in the car, both hands on the steering wheel, surveying the surroundings. Rabid Dog members went about their business, ignoring the obvious cop in their midst. They were used to this. I flipped over the sun visor and checked my makeup. “You can do this, White,” I said aloud. “No fear.”
I stepped out of my vehicle and walked over to the entrance, a hesitant hand on my holstered weapon. Nobody was going to surprise me today. A few members were crouched next to their bikes with tools littered all over the ground. I entered the warehouse and was transported to a nice-looking bar with pool tables. It was ten in the morning and the place was packed. Every barstool was taken and the pool tables were full of activity. “Enter the Sandman” by Metallica was blasting through the speakers.
“Eight ball, corner pocket,” a very tall and large man said. I recognized his face from the Rabid Dog file. He was Big Mike, the Sgt-at-Arms.
“You don't have the balls to make that shot,” another man with shaved hair replied. That was Leland, the Vice-President to Sawyer.
I watched for a moment as Big Mike bent over, pulled back the cue, and sent the ball flying. The white ball rolled to the corner and lightly tapped the eight ball, knocking it into the corner pocket. The large man stood up and grinned. “You owe me a drink.”
Leland nodded and conceded, walking over to the bar. I approached Big Mike and asked, “Excuse me, I'm looking for Sawyer.”
“Good morning, Officer,” he said, polishing the tip of the cue.
“Actually it's Sheriff.”
His eyebrows raised as he looked me up and down. “Well you sit tight, Sheriff, while I get the boss.”
I walked around the bar and everyone ignored me or they were too drunk to notice. Did they really do this everyday? A an older woman with sleeves of tattoos was behind the bar slinging the drinks. She stood out as the only woman from the Rabid Dog file: Claire, the den mother. She had such a sordid past that I couldn't read it all.
Sawyer came out from a back room. He bit his bottom lip as he checked me out from head to toe. “Nice to see you again, Sheriff.”
I rolled my eyes. All men were the same. “Sawyer, can we talk somewhere private.”
He bowed before me. “Of course, your Highness.” I followed Sawyer into a meeting room with a large wooden table in the center. A large Rabid Dog spider was carved into the middle. These guys went all out with the theme. A row of picture frames of Rabid Dog members were hung on the far wall.
“What are these?” I asked, “Rabid Dog members of the month?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Brothers we've lost.”
Oh shit! How could I be so stupid? “I'm sorry, Sawyer. I shouldn't have asked.”
Sawyer went to the last picture frame in the row. A man with glasses stared back at me. “Issac died last year.” He kissed his fingers and pressed them against the photo. Did this outlaw have a heart? Sawyer glanced at me with dark eyes. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”
I almost forgot the reason for coming here. I planted my feet on the ground and steeled myself. “I need to speak to you about the murder of Garcia of The Death Merchants.
Sawyer motioned for me to sit down at the table and he took the chair next to me. “Yeah I heard about him. Shame for the Mexicans. They're whole organization is probably in disarray.”
“Don't play games with me, Sawyer. It doesn't take a NASA scientist to figure out that the Rabid Dog MC was behind it.”
Sawyer put his hand on his chest like he was hurt from a knife to the heart. “I'm offended that you would even come to such a conclusion. The Rabid Dog MC is here to help the community. I'll confess that we had a beef with the Mexicans but we settled it. We didn't have a reason to kill Garcia.”
This man wasn't very good at lying. He'd need more practice if he was going to stay the President. “Answer me this, where were you two nights ago?”
“At the Stinky Goat with the rest of the crew. We were there until the crack of dawn, drinking and fucking.” Sawyer leaned towards me, his eyes gazing into my soul. I inched away until I was on the edge of my seat.
I gulped. “Can anyone confirm your whereabouts?”
Sawyer smiled. “Of course, you can ask any of those guys out there. They were with me all night.”
I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. They would all corroborate his story. I'd have to go to the bar and find someone who wasn't in deep with the Rabid Dog MC. Probably not going to work but worth a try.
Sawyer grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my face. A jolt of electricity shocked me. My heart spiked and I opened my eyes to find Sawyer only inches away from my face. His manly scent was stirring a desire deep down in the pit of my stomach. I closed my eyes again and parted my lips.
Sawyer's mouth pressed against mine and I inhaled sharply as a surge of adrenaline flowed through me. Time slowed as his other hand reached behind my head and pulled me in closer. His tongue slipped past my lips and danced between my teeth. I was clay in his hands, molding me into a new shape. I wanted him to bend me over the table, rip off my underwear, and take me like an animal.
A small voice in the back of my head spoke to me. This is all wrong, Charlotte. You can't be doing this. And that voice was right.
I broke away from the kiss, putting the back of my hand to my swollen lips. My chest heaved up and down as I looked at the ground. I didn't dare make eye contact with Sawyer. Then I'd really be done for.
Sawyer lifted his wrist with one end of my handcuffs locked around it. “What the hell is this?”
I stood up and side-stepped behind Sawyer. I grabbed his other arm and snapped the handcuffs shut. Sawyer was too shocked to even fight back. “You're under arrest for the murder of Garcia.” I began to list off his Miranda rights as I lifted him up and lead him out of meeting room. It wasn't the way I imagined arresting Sawyer but it had to be done. Now I just needed to get my heartbeat under control from that amazing kiss. I didn't want anyone at the station to suspect that the Sheriff was making out with a criminal. My career would be over before it started.