We’re staked out a couple cars back from a street light across the road from The Pitbull. It’s definitely a dive bar. Perfect place to meet up and not be noticed if you’re a redneck; not so much if you are a suited up lawyer. Makes me wonder why he chose this place.
I know who we’re looking for because the smug fucker has his picture up on his website. We’ve been out front for forty-five minutes and haven’t seen him enter, and it’s just now ten o’clock. Time to take a walk inside.
I’d filled the car up with gas and bought a couple chargers for the phones once we hit Jackson, and then we picked up food at a drive-thru burger joint. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was for real food because all I’ve had for days is IV juice. I’ve swallowed more pills to ease the pain in my foot, but I’d get shot in the other foot if it meant bringing Whisper back alive for this old lady.
I’ve just swapped Whisper’s phone for hers, just in case Hazard tries to contact me while I’m in The Pitbull. She knows to send a two-digit code to her phone, and I will respond. I also want it in case her lost boys try to contact her, and I’m not around to manage the response.
“Miss Catherine, you are to stay put and lay low keeping the doors locked.” I give her my don’t-fuck-with-me-this-time stare from the front passenger seat and give her back the handgun. “It’s loaded.” She’s proven herself capable and knows how to use it. “No heroic stuff. If a bad guy is coming for you or your life is threatened, drive off, or make the bullet count. You got me?”
Her hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. “Be careful.” I look down at her crooked fingers for a beat and then get out of the car and make my way to the bar. Christ, I hope she listens for once. I can’t be worrying about her safety and whereabouts while I’m inside.
This fucking moonboot actually works for me with my look for the evening. We’d stopped off and I got myself decked out in some genuine redneck attire. I wanted to be Ellwood and didn’t know if this bastard had met me before and would recognize me, but from a distance, I might pass until I can get a better hold on the situation.
I haven’t shaved in days or had a proper shower. I was cleaned up under Doc Evelyn’s care, but that’s been it. I look like a man who needs a strong drink.
I pull the cap down low over my eyes as I enter the dimly lit bar. A couple dozen patrons are scattered about. I carefully scan the joint, but I can’t see the cocksucker anywhere.
Maybe he’s doing what I’m doing, blending in?
I make my way to the end of the U-shaped bar and take a seat, positioning myself so I can see anybody entering or leaving. I order a beer and take another closer look at the drinkers at the tables. Nobody resembles that fucker’s picture, and nobody is paying me any attention.
I spend twenty minutes waiting. By now, I figure he’s not coming. I signal to the old scruffy-looking bartender to get his attention, thinking the prick might have sniffed a rat and either dropped a package off for Homer or Ellwood earlier or ran out on their contract. I’m contemplating our next move when Miss Catherine’s phone rings.
I told her to fucking code me first.
And then I feel a gun low in my side as a big man slides onto the stool next to me, and the phone is snatched out of my hand.
“Where’s Miss Catherine?” a deep, smooth voice says against my ear.
Christ! Now the fucking Calvary’s decided to show up. Must have finally gotten around to tracking her phone.
I’m nudged in the side with the gun. “Take a walk. Nice and slow, Edge. Move!”
Knows my name. My guess, he has been speaking with Doc Evelyn.
I’m not holding the deck of cards, so I have to play along. “Hold your horses there, buddy. Sounds like we are playing for the same team. You can remove that gun and we can have an intelligent conversation.”
Formal introductions have gone by the wayside.
“Maybe so, but not going to happen. Doc Evelyn says Miss Catherine’s traveling with a man, and you got her phone. We tracked it to here and looks like I just made it in time to catch up to you. Got no time for shenanigans, because the lives of Whisper’s friends depend on me getting you outta here ASAP and locating Miss Catherine.”
I go to get up. “Don’t do anything stupid. Doc Evelyn’s given us your rundown. Know who you are and be respectin’ you are dangerous, and I also know you are ex-military and trained, and so am I….” He pauses for effect. “And just as dangerous.” Cue rolling my eyes. “Miss Catherine and Whisper are our top priorities. Where is the lady?” He works himself up to a deep growl.
“She’s safe outside in the car. I’ll take you to h—”
“Nope. Saw Doc Evelyn’s car, but nobody inside. Want to rethink that answer?” The gun gets pushed harder into me. “If you’ve laid one—” And cue the threats.
I slowly turn sideways to look at him. A mocha-skinned, big, pretty military type has now got the gun against my lower abdomen, and he’s not fucking around from the grim look on his face. I wouldn’t be fucking around either.
Why does it not surprise me she didn’t stay put? And then a more sinister thought hits me. Or did something happen to her?
“Edge! Ghost!” Our names come out in a hushed, anxious tone.
Thank fuck for that. A sense of relief washes over me. At least a bad guy hadn’t swiped her.
“She just doesn’t seem to get the concept of doing as she’s told,” I mutter, and see a hint of relief touch the big guy’s eyes, but they don’t leave me. He’s all business as she makes it over to us.
“You are well, Miss Catherine?” He doesn’t take his eyes off me, nor his finger off the trigger when she stops next to him.
Smart man.
“Of course, Ghost. Good to see you.” Ghost? Fucker’s got a curious handle. She gives him a one-armed hug at his side. “Just been terrified for Whisper and worryin’ about Boxer and Lincoln.” She lowers her voice, moves a step closer to where I’m seated, and puts a hand on my shoulder in a show of solidarity. “No harm been done to me. I been safe with this man.
Fuck sake, like I’m out to beat up on old ladies.
He hands her phone to her and she pockets it. “Ghost, put your gun away and be leavin’ him alone. We all be on the same page. I be vouchin’ for this man. Dem bones of mine never lie.”
Dem bones?
“He’s got some explainin’ to be doin’, some regrets to put to bed and some forgivin’ to be requestin’, but now’s not the time or the meetin’ place. More importantly, have you found Whisper? Where’s Boxer and Lincoln? Are they all right?”
“No. They’re here. Not exactly,” he replies in a nutshell.
Then she looks at me, assuming this big guy is going to take her word straight off the bat, put his weapon away, and have ourselves a tea party. “Did you get what you be comin’ in here for? I been worried.” From the look on her face, I believe she was actually worried about me.
“Nope. Just about to have a word with the bartender.” I ignore the gun and turn, signaling for the bartender to come over.
“Package for Ellwood or Homer?” I bring my best redneck to the table.
The wiry old guy looks me over and shakes his head in the negative. “Been here since opening and no package been dropped.” His gravelly voice sounds worn out from smoking and drinking. Jonathan just put himself on my wanted-man list. Fucker’s got answers I want to be hearing because now the bastard ran scared from my earlier call.
I know Mocha-chocolate is listening. I settle my tab and get up. We all move toward the door. Mocha-chocolate positions himself next to me, keeping Miss Catherine on his right. That gun will be hidden, but still trained on me as he directs the conversation toward her.
“Heard you decided to go on a road trip with a total stranger. Doc Evelyn briefed us. Now, what’s Boxer gonna be thinking about that?” He looks at the old lady with affection.
“Nobody else be available to be helpin’ me. Couldn’t be sittin’ about waitin’ when Whisper’s life been on the line. Edge been lookin’ after me.”
This guy doesn’t seem the wiser about my original intentions and follow through toward Whisper.
He stops outside the bar. “Before we go over to our car, I need to warn you of a few things. Joel’s been beaten to a pulp. He has a lot of internal injuries, so he was out of commission for a few days and is still in the hospital. He managed to sweet talk a nurse into letting him borrow her computer, and he’s been helping me from his hospital bed.”
“He be okay?” She’s worried for this Joel. He’s a friend, but not close enough to warrant swapping phone numbers.
“He’ll live. Tough guy.” He rubs a hand over his closely cropped dark hair. “Cutting a long story short, Lincoln and Boxer been MIA, as you know. After not being able to get through to Boxer or Lincoln, Joel called Doc Evelyn to see if she heard from either of them. She let him know about what had been going on from your end.” He arches a dark eyebrow. “The limited amount you cared to disclose to her.
“Joel’s next plan was to hack my personal information and get a hold of my cell number. Never had a situation for anybody other than Boxer to need my personal details before.” He shrugs. “I’m a private man. He’d already hacked their phones and found out the last breadcrumb, the last location those phones were at.” He looks over at me, deciding whether I should be listening to any of this. “How they got into that mess, I’ll explain later.
“Doc Evelyn has a thing for Boxer, even though they both won’t admit it, and she arranged a set of wheels to come to Jackson as soon as she could. And Joel’s been keeping her up-to-date on everything.” He taps his ear. “He’s listening in right now.
“This brings me to Boxer and Lincoln. They’ve both had it pretty rough, with broken bones and being left to starve to death.” Miss Catherine’s hand flies up to her mouth. “They’ll live. Done what I can for them. I picked up a bag of medical supplies Doc Evelyn had organized for me to collect after I gave her their medical update of injuries that I could physically see. Was on my way to meet up with Doc Evelyn, and she’ll be able to look after them better than the makeshift job I’ve done for them.”
We start walking again and make it over to the Beamer, where a black, fully tinted SUV has boxed us in.
No prizes for guessing whose.
I can see through the front window there are people inside the car. One is in the front passenger seat laid out horizontally with the seat jacked back and part of another body is lying across the backseat. Neither appears to be moving. The old lady tries to get to the back passenger door, but the guy holds her arm, stopping her from getting any closer.
“I’ll warn you, they look bad. I found them in a large bunker underground in the woods outside of Jackson. I got to them in time. Doc Evelyn knew you two were headed to Jackson, so Joel got the GPS working on your phones and here I am. I didn’t call you ahead…” He looks at me. “Didn’t want the man with you to know I was coming in. We realize none of this was coincidence. It was a cleverly hatched plan to get Whisper alone, and we’re hoping you can fill in some blanks.” He lets go of her arm.
Miss Catherine hurries to the back door, swinging it open, while I follow on behind. These are her people, but I made a promise to her. She opens the door and then kneels down next to a guy who looks to be in his mid-forties and is out cold. I take a good look at the two unconscious men buckled up. Both have fucked up legs and are hooked up to IV bags hanging from the oh-shit roof handles.
Before anybody else can get another word out, a car pulls up beside us in a hurry to stop, and my concealed gun is out swinging in its direction.
And then a gun is shoved into the side of my head. Mocha-chocolate is the voice of reason. “Easy, Edge, lower your weapon. It’s Doc Evelyn to see to Boxer and Lincoln. Joel’s been feeding her our location, and those men need her immediate attention.” I only have to hear Doc Evelyn’s name and the gun is being holstered, and I no longer have one at my head.
She’s out of the car, running over to the SUV with a bag, and starts checking them over, mumbling to herself. Sounds like she’s cursing their day job.
Mocha-chocolate gives me a rundown. “Lincoln, the blond, younger guy, is Whisper’s best friend. And the other guy, Boxer, is as good as Whisper’s father.” I don’t like hearing her best friend is male. It actually sends a streak of emotion through me I don’t want to identify, and I’ve only spent a few hours with her. I only know her favorite and least favorite movies, that she really isn’t a beer drinker, and she can’t lie for shit.
And… she’s my sweet and wild girl.
I don’t know where that came from.
“Edge, we’re gonna take it from here. You can go back to Albuquerque. Whisper is no longer your concern. Appreciate what you have done for Miss Catherine, and she can fill in any missing blanks Doc Evelyn couldn’t, which I assume is a fair bit. Not unless you got anything you want to add?” Mocha-chocolate thinks he has this all worked out.
“‘Fraid I have to beg to differ… hot shot. I’ve made Whisper my business.”
Fuck you very much.
Now, I appreciate these people are her people, but I am now involved, whether they like it or not. We glare at each other, which does nothing for anybody. Too much testosterone in the air for my liking and that shit makes men dangerous.
“Ain’t leavin’ Jackson, got a man to locate with a cell number and would appreciate a little heads up on his whereabouts.”
We continue our stare-fest.
Mocha-chocolate waves the white flag first. “Boxer’s been mumbling the name Jonathan Boothe over and over before he completely passed out. Seems like the name was mighty important to him. Joel and I concur and now remember seeing it on the original will.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Any of that ring a bell to you?” He’s baiting me. Sniffer dog is out.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
“Jonathan Boothe is a name we have in common.” That’s all I am willing to concede at this point. Miss Catherine hasn’t jumped in to announce who I am. Mocha-chocolate hasn’t shot me, so I gather I’m still under the radar for my sins against Whisper and my biological connection.
Why?
Sounds like she didn’t divulge this information to the good doctor, or she would have told this guy already.
Wouldn’t she?
I will take what’s coming to me once she is safe.
I need to get moving. “If you can get your boy onto the cell number I hold for Boothe, I’ll be on my way. Just need a location to get started. He can stop tracking Whisper and Miss Catherine’s phones, because she’s in possession of them, and stay on that one for me. It’s the one solid lead we have at the moment.” Miss Catherine hands over a piece of paper she jotted it down on to the guy, and he starts rattling off the numbers to Joel.
“I’ll be sure to let you know what I find out tonight, Miss Catherine.” She looks like she wants to say something to me and Mocha-chocolate isn’t liking I’m getting all bossy, but I don’t give a fuck. “We can work together to find Whisper.” He’s still eyeing me up.
“What’s your stake in this… with Whisper?” he asks me, his tone deadly serious now. “Before, you were Miss Catherine’s only help, found her on the side of the road. Had your own troubles prior to that meetup and got yourself bashed and shot in the foot.”
So that’s the magical mystery explanation of what went down. Fuck sake, ladies.
“I ain’t buying that explanation. Your enthusiasm for Whisper and her plight isn’t sitting well with me.”
I don’t suppose he’ll believe, ‘Many hands make light work.’ I start to tell him William Dupré is my father, but Miss Catherine starts chattering.
“Because he be makin’ a promise to me to find her and he been keepin’ it.” She’s trying to give me an out, but I don’t need protecting from an old lady.
Far from it. I made my bed.
I can pay my own bills.
I look the big man directly in his eyes. “Because William Dupré is my father and that fucker has hailed shit down on Whisper for a lifetime, as I have just discovered, and here’s the kicker… I shot her in the shoulder.”
A thunderous noise fills the street, and I watch a lion heading my way, still roaring as he aims to fuck with me good and proper.
On an ooph, my body’s slammed into the hard road, and I have to let the guy have his due as he swings punch after punch down on me. I can’t fight him because I would do the same if the roles were reversed.
I would do worse.
Much, much worse.
I feel a tooth dislodge itself, my lip split, and a black eye or two will reveal themselves soon enough.
Nothing I haven’t survived before.
My mind drifts away and I’m the young boy again, weighed down by my father as he hammers me into submission. I used to fight back, kicking and screaming, trying to protect myself, until I learned to take my punishment because I surely deserved what he was windmilling down on my body. No father would do this to their child unless they had done something so bad they needed to be set right. The thing is, I could never work out what that was.
My cheek is smashed to the side, bringing me back into the present, as I lay with my hands at my sides while he gets a few more solid hits in… until he realizes I ain’t fighting him back. This is just a down payment for my past actions toward the sweet and wild girl.
The fucker sure can hit hard.
He yanks me up to my feet, blood pouring out of a gash on the side of my head, blinding me in that eye. I can feel my stitches have opened up on the back of my head. I would assume I look a right fucking mess about now.
Penance can be a painful pill to swallow.
“Enough!” the old lady screeches, and fuck if that doesn’t stop Mocha-chocolate in his tracks as he shoves me back a few steps and I plant my feet, steadying myself. “I know what he gone and done. I be knowin’ from the first night he be in my home. I’m not happy about it, and Whisper knowin’ he be the one who shot her, but she be the one in danger. Let us not be forgettin’ that. He be doin’ wrong, but dem bones of mine be tellin’ me to take a giant leap of faith and trust this man to be doin’ the right thing from here on out.”
What’s with ‘dem bones’ again?
“That’s all he been doin’ since he made his big mistake. He be knowin’ he did wrong. He not even fightin’ you, Ghost. It takes a man who be knowin’ he’s at fault to lay there and let another man pummel him when he be quite capable of layin’ you out with a bullet to the brain. I’ve seen what he been able to do to a man. Whisper be makin’ the judgment call on whether she be forgivin’ him or not. That be what he has to look forward to and be livin’ with.
“I be explainin’ in more detail once we get Boxer and Lincoln seen to. They die because you be takin’ the time to beat up on a man who is beatin’ up on himself enough in his mind over what he gone and done… do you think Whisper be any happier? Do you think bein’ William Dupré’s son been easy on him? Do you think he didn’t get his fair share of William’s insanity rained down upon him?”
Time for the rant to finish; this is getting too close to home base. She’s assuming correctly far too much.
“Miss Catherine, I don’t need you to step up for me. Ghost did what he needed to do. Would have done the same thing if I was in his shoes.” I spit out a bloody tooth. “The good doctor needs to get moving, and I need to find a man and have a talk with him.”
Mocha-chocolate still isn’t finished. “Miss Catherine, you agreeable with Edge going lonesome dove and approaching this man of interest?”
“I am. You be knowin’ full well you got enough on your plate with dem boys.”
Mocha-chocolate wants to ride my ass. He’s snorting like a bull who wants to keep charging, but he knows he’s gotta look after his men and has two ladies to keep safe. He’s done the math, and he’s also got another man in the hospital, and he knows I’m gonna be nobody’s tag-along. I’m not turning tail either.
He paces about because it’s not sitting well with him. He doesn’t like it one bit that the old lady is feeling shit in her bones when it comes to me. She has this man’s respect, and she knows it.
I give him my most direct no-bullshit look. “You have my word I’ll keep you in the loop. Sometimes, in a situation like this, it’s all a man has to offer is his word. You take care of Whisper’s family because she will need them. I’ll call for backup when I need it. At the moment, I’m just sniffing around. Whisper’s disappeared, and I aim to get some answers soon. You need to be briefed on what Miss Catherine and I have been up to.”
Fucker is looking for a reason to go another round. I won’t be so accommodating this time around because this round won’t be about me shooting Whisper. This round would be purely letting off steam, and I ain’t nobody’s punching bag.
“I promised Miss Catherine, and I won’t break that. She will fill you in, but whether you like it or not, this has become two motorcycle clubs’ business too. Whisper is missing, and she’s your people, and we’re missing two ladies. One just turned up shot through the back, dead, and the other is still a question mark. Seems like there could be a link.
“Your computer genius can start by finding out who is the owner of the abandoned airfield out at Henrys Ferry. Miss Catherine has the details. My guess, it will be buried deep, because the fucker who masterminded the kidnapping doesn’t want to be found out. Any flight plans for Saturday morning out of that airfield that can be found will be a lead. We believe Whisper was flown out of there. Could be in the country still, or could be out of the country.”
Mocha-chocolate gives me one last glare and walks off to calm down, with Miss Catherine following a few steps behind. Doc Evelyn hands me a small towel so I can wipe myself up, and then I hold it against the gash. She grumbles about not having time for this gorilla shit.
From her absence of shock, I can see she knew what I had gone and done to Whisper already, but she still let the old lady leave with me and gave me her wheels… because I was better than nothing, and dem bones have sway.
She sharply pushes my head down, checking the back of it. “I don’t have to like it, but the more people looking for Whisper can only be a good thing,” she mumbles away behind me, as she tears the old bandage off. “Stitches nearly gone and done their job anyway. I’ll use some Steri-Strips to keep it held together. Stay still.”
“Why didn’t you rat me out?” I ask softly.
She doesn’t answer straight away, just goes about patching up the back of my head. “Miss Catherine has her thing where she simply knows something in her bones. She believes in you. She knows you made a mistake, and those bones of hers are steering her when it comes to you. I’ve decided, after all I’ve seen over the past few years when it comes to you ex-military types, her bones are worth listening to. Don’t prove me wrong for keeping my thoughts to myself.”
She moves around and starts to work on my face, but I hold my hands up. “No thanks, I can handle the rest myself.”
She lets out a little grunt of disapproval, the doctor in her at war with wanting to fix me, but there is no time. She’s spent enough time fussing over me, but still hands me some Steri-Strips and alcohol swab packets. “Edge, you need me to take a look at your foot?” Her voice is low, concern laced through it.
“I’m good. No different from earlier today. I’m taking the pills and I’ll get it looked at.” She looks like she wants to argue, but decides against it. I get in her line of sight. “Thank you for everything. You go take care of your men.” She gives me a sharp nod and walks away.
The old lady approaches me. She looks a little sad she knows our Bonnie and Clyde run together is over. “How you be leavin’ here?”
I wave the burner phone in the air I swiped off Homer and Ellwood. “I’m a big boy. I can sort myself out. I’ve got people.” I give her a half smile.
She looks like she has more to get off her chest, so I let Ghost know I’m just going to have a quiet word with her. He doesn’t take too kindly to that idea, by the way he starts to prowl back toward me.
Miss Catherine holds a hand up to him. “I’ve been perfectly safe with Edge. You get ready to be leavin’ and I’ll be followin’ on behind in Evelyn’s BMW.” Now, I could have laughed out loud at the look on Mocha-chocolate’s face when she told him she would follow on behind. She looks a little put out as a hand lands on her hip. “How you be thinkin’ we got from New Orleans to every other damn place we been to, Ghost?” She sounds like she wants to give him more lip, but holds her tongue.
He just holds his hands up in capitulation, walks off, and waits in the SUV, so we can talk. I take her around to the back passenger side of the Beamer and get busy with removing my things, including No Mercy.
She hands me the ragdoll which was laying a top of Whisper’s carefully folded leather jacket and she’s places it inside a plastic bag. “For when you be findin’ her. She be knowin’ I gave it to you. Her name’s Jenny. Bring Whisper back, Edge. I know it be you to be doin’ it.” She puts her hand over her heart. “I know it in here.”
She gives me a tight hug, which surprises the hell out of me. Opportunity has presented itself for the picking. I dip my hand smoothly into her pocket and lift her phone.
“Be stayin’ in contact. Boxer be needed by Doc Evelyn’s side to get well. You need Ghost, you just be askin’. You need anythin’, you contact me on that phone you just be stealin’ away from me.”
I shake my head at her comment. She doesn’t ask for it back. I do something without thinking which surprises me. I give her a swift kiss on the head in reply and then try to cover up my action by turning away and grumbling out, “Time for me to leave.”
Mocha-chocolate beckons me over. “He’s at the Quality Inn North, room 213.” Joel knows how to get information. “Hasn’t moved since we’ve been yapping, might be asleep. Expectin’ to hear from you tonight.”
I give him a sharp nod. Before he drives off, he hollers through the window, “Joel’s sent you a present,” and then he drives away.
I wave Miss Catherine off, watching the convoy of cars depart, just as a cab pulls up in front of me, the window peeling down.
“Yo, you Edge?”
I swing my bag over my shoulder and grip No Mercy’s handles tight.
I most certainly fucking am.
***
Jonathan was indeed at the Quality Inn. Picked my way into the room and found the twin beds—one of them had been slept in—moved at angles like there’d been a scuffle. The phone was poking out from under one of the bedspreads on the floor. I checked the bathroom and found Jonathan laid out in the tub.
Needless to say, he wasn’t breathing. Couldn’t see any reason for his death until I looked extra closely and saw a small needle mark at the side of his neck.
Somebody wanted ol’ JB out of the picture, possibly a loose end.
He was executed, and there goes another fucker who had escaped my wrath.
I called Whisper’s phone and passed on my findings to the old lady, which was simply a dead body. JB had his phone clean. He wouldn’t leave a trail on his personal one for the shit he was neck-deep in.
Back to square fucking one.
The room is completely clean of any of JB’s things. I made sure the cabbie dropped me off a block away from the Quality Inn, and I was careful not to touch anything when I arrived. I quickly wipe the handle clean and shut the door, pulling my hat down tight over my face.
I need to find a place for the night to bed down, one that won’t be looking to ask questions about my beat up face and work out my next move.
I’m not one for praying, but I will pray to even Buddha if it gives Whisper strength to hold on.