Chapter 27
Slick
After making love—yeah, making love not fucking—last night, Ella went back to be with Jayden. Knowing Paladin’s actions had upset the kid, I understood why she left me, but fuck it if my bed didn’t feel empty. Another sign I was right to take her as my old lady. Even after just a few nights I no longer want my own space. So different to the whores who I’d kick out of bed as soon as the deed was done.
Poking my head around their door this morning, I’d seen they were still both sleeping so peacefully I hadn’t the heart to disturb them, but I couldn’t help myself lingering for a moment just watching them. My girls.
Laughing silently at myself, I make my way down to the clubhouse, and wouldn’t you just believe it, the first fucker I come across is Paladin. Although it had been his actions that made me end up sleeping alone, there was valid reason for it, so I pause for a second to tell him, “Hey, you did good, Brother.”
The pain radiating from his face surprises me as his eyes meet mine, and he says tersely, “Did it work?”
“Sure did.”
His hand brushes back the hair flopping over his face. “Hurts like a fuckin’ bitch, man. I didn’t want to upset her.”
I slap his back. “You had to. She’s got a lot of things to work through. Best you keep your distance, it’s confusin’ for her.”
He stares at the ground and kicks at a stone. “I know. I know I should keep away, Slick. Fuck, I don’t want to make things worse. Thing is, she doesn’t act her age, you know? She seems so much older.”
“After what she’s been through, she probably does.”
He nods then walks off. I carry on, entering the clubroom and stepping over bodies. Fuck, there must have been one hell of a party last night. And you know what? It doesn’t even bother me I missed it. I’ve got Ella, and what we did together was better than any party I’ve ever been at. My mouth twists into a grin remembering her amazement as I’d squeezed those orgasms out of her.
Drum’s coming out of his office, weaving his way through the hungover bodies. Reaching me he waves his hand. “Sometimes I wish all the brothers had old ladies. We’re the only ones awake and fit to do anythin’ today. Come with me, Brother? Hyde’s got a problem down at the gate.”
Sure, I’ll accompany him. I give a chin jerk to agree, and walk down by his side, curious to know what the issue is.
Hyde’s learned his lesson. He’s letting no one inside unless it’s someone wearing our patch. The prospect’s standing this side of the entrance, stoically impassive at the ranting and raving from the other side. It’s the woman who I’ve no desire to see again, Crystal’s mom, and the same loser with her. Drum and I exchange glances and I’d bet good money we’re both thinking the same thing. Why are they here, and how quickly can we get rid of them?
With a meaty hand slapping down on the prospect’s back, Drum indicates he’s done good not letting them in.
“What d’ya want?” He stands at the metal bars, obviously with no intention of opening the gate up.
“I want my grandchild, that’s what,” Crystal’s mom sneers through the fence.
“Nothin’ has changed. She’s stayin’ here until we find out what her father wants,” Drum tells her, sounding bored.
“Dale’s as good as dead. It’s only a matter of time.”
Yeah, unfortunately, as the days pass with him showing no improvement that’s what I’ve started thinking, but hearing her say it makes me see red. “You fuckin’ bitch…” I start, but the prez’s hand shooting out and grabbing my arm shuts me up.
“Heart’s still in the land of the livin’. We ain’t givin’ up on him yet.”
“You’ve no right to keep the kid.”
Drum sighs. “Why do you want her? She’s happy here.” He indicates her clothing which is dirty and worn. “Why would she be better off with you?” He throws a look toward her companion and his face twists in disgust.
“Because I ain’t a filthy biker. Fuck knows what you’ll do to her. You into kids?”
Now it’s me that’s holding my prez back. Daring to accuse us of that? The woman’s got balls, I’ll give her that.
“My wife’s lookin’ after Amy.” Drum spits out the words. “And I’ve already fuckin’ told ya, that’s where she’ll stay.”
She’s not giving up. “Crystal’s funeral will be on Friday. She ain’t doin’ no good above ground. I want the kid there.”
Fuck! That’s only a couple of days away. Drum steps forward, his hands curling around the bars and the look on his face should probably warn the woman she’s lucky the gate’s shut. “Heart should be the one makin’ any arrangements.”
“Heart’s a fuckin’ dead man. He just doesn’t know it yet.” Now she’s screaming. “And it’s my daughter we’re talking about. It’s my right to arrange it and I want this done. Dale’s got no say in this. He killed her on that fuckin’ bike.”
Christ, it’s bad enough that we don’t know whether Heart will come out of it or not, but what if he does to find his wife dead and already buried? No chance to say a final goodbye.
But what can we do? Drum throws me a look full of emotion, and I know what he’s thinking. This is all wrong. But while he’s the personal representative in terms of Crystal’s will, in Arizona that doesn’t make him an authorising agent and able to organise her funeral, only a next of kin or spouse can do that, or someone with a healthcare power of attorney, and Drum’s none of these. Without Heart conscious, no one can stop her burying her daughter. As I stare at Drummer I see he seems to be struggling for a response. Then, taking a deep breath, knowing there’s no point in arguing, he says curtly, “Let me know when and where and we’ll come pay our respects.”
“I don’t want no biker scum there,” she screams back. “Your club is the reason she’s dead!”
Drum plays his trump card. “You want us to bring Amy. Ain’t sendin’ her on her own.”
Her face twists, but she knows when she’s beaten, and then snaps out the time and the place. Once that’s done she turns, drags her companion away by his arm, then they both get back into a beat-up car and disappear down the track.
Drum’s head drops forward onto the bars of the gate. “Fuck, Brother,” he starts, “if Heart doesn’t come around before Friday this will destroy him.”
Placing my hand on his shoulder, I agree. “I know, Prez, but I don’t see we have any choice. We’ve no claim on Crystal. Not when it’s what her mother wants.”
“Fuckin’ bitch.”
And I can’t argue with his assessment.
The sound of bikes firing up and revving comes from behind us. The brothers leaving us today are obviously making their move. For the next half hour I stand beside my prez saying goodbyes and thanking them for their assistance the day before, and watching them leave. When the last of those who aren’t staying have left the compound, I wait while Drum fills Wraith and the other Tucson chapter brothers in on the funeral arrangements for our fallen sister. No one is any happier than the prez or I, but none of us can see a way around it. As each day passes, our insistence on waiting for Heart to wake up seems less and less rational.
Prez is lingering by the gate, I stay too, wanting to fill him in that his plan to separate Paladin and Jayden seems to have worked. As the others fade away, I ask if I can have a quick word. But before I can start talking a bike comes up the track. Unlike the healthy rumble of a Harley, it’s a high pitched annoying whine. Oh, the bike’s pretty impressive if you like something like that. To me it looks like a green monster pretending to have street cred. It’s a fuckin’ Kawasaki.
Drum shakes his head at Hyde as he tilts his head in question as to whether he should open the gate. Nobody wearing one of our patches would be seen dead on such a piece of plastic crap. Except Road perhaps, but even then it would be a trials bike, not a sports bike like this.
The rider dismounts, takes off her full-face green helmet which perfectly matches her bike, and shakes out her hair, which she’s wearing tied up in a ponytail. She takes a step forward.
“Drummer?”
Well, I’ll be fucked if it isn’t that detective bitch, Hannah.
Rolling his head back on his shoulders and sighing as though this day’s already brought enough shit, the prez goes to meet her. “Detective Hannah,” he snarls, using the tone that normally makes brothers quake.
She shakes her head. “I’m off duty, Drummer. The names Marcia. Marcia Hannah.”
“Marcia, Hannah.” He waves his hand in dismissal. “Whoever the fuck you are, don’t see we’ve got business with you.”
“I think you have,” she contradicts. “And I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
Another deep sigh, Drum looks at me. I raise my eyebrow. Then he nods at Hyde and tells him to let her inside. Marcia steps through, wheeling her bike and putting down the kickstand just inside.
“Follow me. We’ll talk in my office.”
I tag along, not really needed, but I’m curious just the same. The clubhouse is at least empty of bodies now, and Road and Jekyll are carrying trash sacks and picking up the remains of last night’s party. Drum makes no excuses for the mess as he takes her on through and out back to his office, calling for Wraith to join us as he sees him at the bar. I hover at the door. I’m not an officer, but I’m hoping to be included.
Drum notices and nods. “Yeah, come on in Slick.” At least I’ll be another witness. None of us want to talk to even an off-duty cop on our own.
The prez pulls up another chair to go with the two that normally are in front of his impressive desk, and takes his seat under the large flag. Marcia studies it carefully for a moment and then looks at Drum, who’s tilting his head, waiting for her to speak.
She’s a cop in an outlaw biker club, but she returns his stare steadily. “You’ve got problems,” she starts, then pauses waiting for a reaction. When she gets none she continues, “and so have I.” Again she breaks off, but this time she’s not looking for any comment. She frowns as though she’s gathering her thoughts. “I’m squeaky clean, I’m not on the take. And I’m going to stay that way.”
“Never suspected different, sweetheart.” Drum sneers the endearment.
She picks at her fingernails as if removing dirt and then looks back up. “Look, I wanted to do this the right way, go through the right channels. But the thing is, I’m new to Tucson and I don’t know who to trust. My captain might be clean, but who am I to know? I just can’t stand by and see things going on that I know are wrong.”
Drum pulls himself up straight, leans forward with his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his clasped hands. “And these things that are wrong. They concern us?”
“Yeah.” She sits back and folds her arms. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. I’m a damn good cop. I got my promotion after I sniffed out something others had missed. Now there’s something going on here and I don’t like the smell.” She unfolds her arms and leans forward. “But I don’t need a load of bikers taking the law into their own hands. If I tell you my suspicions, you’ve got to work with me and inside the law. I need your word on that.”
“And if I don’t give you my word?”
“Then I walk. And tell you nothing.”
Drum sneers. “And forget about the stink?”
She gives a snort of derision. “No fucking way. I’ll just do it on my own.”
The prez’s eyes flick to Wraith, and then to me. I reckon she’s caught all our interest.
“Okay, darlin’. You tell us what’s up, and if we can, we’ll do it your way.”
It’s not a total promise we’ll stay on the side that she wants, but it’s all that she’ll be getting from him. She stares at the prez for a few seconds, then glances at the VP and myself. She takes a deep breath and starts, “I think my partner’s dirty.”
Drum huffs a laugh. “Not much doubt about that. My nose is as good as yours, sweetheart.”
Ignoring him, she continues, “He’s intent on Mrs Norman’s mother getting custody of her granddaughter. He’s helping her with the paperwork, and I can’t understand why.” She shakes her head, “You’ve seen the woman. I’ve never met anyone less fit to look after a small child.”
“She brought Crystal up right.” Drum’s playing devil’s advocate.
“Unfortunately I never met Crystal, so I’ll have to take your word on that. But however well Mrs Norman turned out is beside the point. Clyde doesn’t want the child, that’s plain to see. So, why’s Archer helping her against you?” She shakes her head as though it’s something she can’t work out.
“Bikers don’t have a good reputation. If Heart dies and it goes in front of a judge, we could lose a custody battle based on keepin’ her here.” I decide it’s time that I contribute to the conversation.
She acknowledges my comment with a slow nod. “That’s my concern. And why I thought you needed to know.”
“So now you’ve told us,” Wraith puts in, as though me speaking has loosened the sluice gates. “Is that all you’re here for? To warn us?”
“If it is, thank you. But you can go now.” Drum takes charge again.
“No, that’s not all. Look, I don’t know what picture this jigsaw is going to make up, but I need someone else to know all of the pieces.” She sighs. “Archer wanted in right from the beginning. A simple road traffic accident, and he particularly asked for us to be given Dale Norman’s case. Which has now stalled, by the way. The information I gave you, well, it’s gone no further than that.”
We all keep quiet that we’d done some investigating on our own.
“I suspect you’ve done more.”
That’s when I realise she’s not stupid.
“Or at least I hope that you have. I’ve done some digging too.” Another moment of silence as if to increase the anticipation and emphasise the importance of what she’s going to say. “Archer has connections to the Herrera family.”
“He’s a second cousin.” Drum confirms we already know.
As she smooths her palms down her face, she stares at him, her expression conveying ‘of course you do’. I notice she looks tired. Exchanging looks with Drum, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s thinking the same thing as I am. That she must be at her wits end to come to the club.
“Do you want a drink, sweetheart.”
For the first time, a smile. It transforms her face and I notice she’s really quite attractive. Her blond hair, reaching to her shoulders, has kept its style despite having been flattened by a helmet, and frames quite striking features.
“I could murder a coffee.”
Drum sends a quick text.
“Okay, I’ll put my cards on the table.” She seems to be fighting an internal battle, confirmed when she scoffs at herself. “I’ve never done anything like this before. What I’m going to tell you could threaten an active investigation.”
A knock at the door, Road enters with a tray. She’s given her coffee, the three of us take a beer.
“One, we’ve a biker who’s been knocked off his bike, and the evidence points to it being deliberate.”
We stay quiet, having come to that conclusion ourselves.
“Two,” she’s counting off on her fingers, unbeknownst to her, mimicking how Drum had summed up, “a member of the Herrera family wanted in on the investigation, and then has done what he can to put it on the back burner. Three,” she pauses and looks up, “Susie Clyde, Mrs Norman’s mother, is deep in debt. And I mean deep.”
Drum’s eyes narrow. This is new to us. Mouse hadn’t been able to find out the extent of what she owed.
She waits for a reaction, but that’s all she’s going to get. “Four…”
“Go on,” Drum encourages.
She takes a deep breath, “We’ve got information that there is a gang in Tucson grooming young girls. We raided a house after a tip off, it was empty, no one around. Lots of blood at the scene.” Her eyes look at us, We all keep our faces impassive. “We’re trying to find out who owned it, but it’s buried under all sorts of aliases.”
I’m surprised they’d found it so quickly. Perhaps another one of the kids had spoken out, though it sounds like it was anonymously reported. We’d cleaned the house well, but couldn’t remove stains from the carpet or furniture. I force myself to keep still, but my hands form fists at the thought of the other kids that had been abused by that fucker Diego, the only saving grace is he and the others are all dead.
It looks like Marcia is having difficulty continuing, but her mouth’s working as though there’s something else she wants to say.
“Go on.” Drum’s picked up on that too.
“The tip off…” She clears her throat. “Said it wasn’t a one off. Young kids, boys and girls…”
“Fuck.” Wraith looks shocked, his eyes go to Drum. This time Drum acts as though she’s telling him news. It’s the right reaction.
“You’re saying they’re paedophiles. Muckin’ around with young children?”
Marcia closes her eyes briefly, then when she opens them makes an attempt to pull herself together. “Now this is going to sound crazy, and a bit of a leap, but Ms Clyde’s in financial trouble. She doesn’t want a child. But what if she’s been offered money for her? And,” suddenly the words start tumbling out one after the other, “why does my partner want to help her? Could the Herrera family be involved?”
She sits back having got everything out, her eyes roaming between the three of us. We give nothing away. Drum drums his fingers on the table. “Bit of a long stretch, darlin’. The Herreras have their hands in many pies, but grooming children? Where’s your evidence for that?”
We’ve got plenty, but he’s not letting her know.
“You’ve got a partner who’s a distant relative to the family, a woman in debt, an accident with no identified perpetrator, and a child wanted by her junkie grandmother.”
Again her arms fold. “Nothing else adds up. Look, Drummer. I’ve tried speaking to Archer, tried to tell him I don’t think it’s a good idea supporting Ms Clyde. Any fool could see she wouldn’t get custody. But he’s acting so strangely, doing everything to help her get her hands on the child.”
She’s right. It’s all a stretch, but it could fit. And we’ve been sidetracked trying to trace the surviving members of the Rock Demons thinking it was likely them who ran Heart off the road.
“One thing wrong with your proposal, darlin’. If we put the pieces you’ve thrown into the mix together, you’re saying Crystal’s mom arranged her daughter’s death.”
“She’s a meth addict, anyone can see that. Her brain’s probably screwed. And I think she had help. A young kid would be valuable. Look, I’ve seen Amy, she’s pretty and cute.”
My stomach rolls at her words, my beer churning in my gut. It’s only now the implications of what she’s saying hit me. They want Amy? To use her? Sell her to a paedophile? It’s unthinkable.
“What do you want us to do?”
“Drum. A three-year-old child takes precedence over everything. I want to get the social services involved.” Bravely she shakes her head as Prez’s face darkens. “I know you mean well, but a club of bikers isn’t a place to raise a toddler, and though you and I believe Ms Clyde would soon be dismissed as a suitable guardian, blood relation or not, someone could help her scrub up and present a different picture to the court. I don’t want to take that risk. I want to see her safe with foster parents.”
The prez rises to his feet, his hands resting on the table. The thunderous look on his face makes even me shrink back in my chair. “Firstly, Detective, I ain’t gonna see that child put into the system. Fuck knows where you got such a rosy image in your head. I’ve heard enough from my brothers brought up that way to know how often good intentions turn out shit in practice.” His fist thumps down on the table. “There’s a body lyin’ in the morgue which shouldn’t fuckin’ be there. And we’ve got to deal with that. The last thing Crystal told me was to take care of her daughter. And I promised to look after her like my fuckin’ own. If Heart doesn’t recover, my ol’ lady and I will make that permanent. Ain’t nobody touchin’ a hair of that child’s head on my watch.”
Hannah’s not afraid to hold her ground. “And if it goes in front of a judge? You won’t have a choice but to give her up. Look Drummer, I hear what you’re saying, and I get it, your honouring the final wishes of a woman who died far too young. But it’s her daughter that’s most important.”
Drummer’s still standing. “You gonna go to the social?”
If she says she will, from the expression on his face, she’ll be lucky to get out of here alive.
Her hands rub her face as if she’s not certain what she’s going to do. “What can you give her, Drummer?”
He’s quick to answer. “Stability, love. Familiar surroundin’s, the place she’s always called home. Uncles who’d all give their lives to keep her safe. She’ll be protected better here than in any foster home. No one will be takin’ her away.”
That makes her think. She looks at me, then Wraith, the commitment to a three-year-old girl spelt out plainly by the expressions in our eyes.
After a moment she turns back to Drummer. “You think you can keep her safe here, and out of the clutches of anyone who might want to harm her? If I’m right…” She can’t voice what she means, and I’ve every sympathy. I don’t even want to think about the type of things motherfucking scum of the earth could consider doing to such a young kid.
Retaking his seat, Drum throws his reiteration. “A foster family couldn’t offer more protection than we can.”
Slowly she nods as she comes to a decision. “Amy’s safety comes first, Drummer. And I hear what you say. Okay, for now I won’t cause waves, I do see your point. And while you’re bikers, you obviously have a lot of love for the child. I’ll keep on investigating, try to discover who else is clean to work with me.”
“You might have it wrong.” I’m grasping at straws. Her summation had seemed logical.
“I can’t afford not to do anything if I’m right.”
“If a judge awards Crystal’s mom custody we won’t be givin’ her up. That’s what I mean by keepin’ her safe.”
“I know. And you’ll be breaking the law.” The words, spoken in a breathy voice, show that doesn’t sit well with Miss Squeaky Clean.”
Drum raps his fingers against the desktop. “I’m not tellin’ you nothin’ bout how we’ll do things. But Amy will be safe with her family. I can promise you that.”
Marcia’s shoulders rise as though a weight has been lifted off them. “Thanks, Drummer. And as for the other stuff, please don’t take the law into your own hands. I’ll do the investigation through the right channels. I hope that I’m wrong…”
Unfortunately, the more I think on it, the fewer doubts I have that she’s probably right. And as for us keeping out of it, she’s not got a fucking prayer that we’ll agree to that.
She throws a stern look toward the prez. It’s almost as steely as his. “This conversation…”
“This conversation never happened,” he finishes for her.
Another quick text and Road appears again. Marcia picks up her gaudy full-face, gives us a nod, and goes out with the prospect to be escorted back to her bike.
Leaning my head back, I link my hands behind my neck, and stretching out my legs cross them at the ankles.
Wraith raises an eyebrow. “Can’t relax with the heat around.” He smirks.
“You’ve got that right, Brother.”
Drum stands. He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.”
“You think she’s on the right track?”
“Fuck knows, VP. The thing that sticks out is that bitch of a mother. Could she really have arranged for her daughter to be killed?”
“Who knows how a junkie desperate for a fix would think.” Unlinking my hands, I sit forward again, drawing up my knees and resting my elbows on them. “She might have offered the kid up, the fuckin’ Herreras might have worked out the logistics.”
Perching his backside against the desk, the prez nods. “That sounds more credible if she’s deep in debt to them. But she’d still be complicit. All she wants is to get her hands on Amy, no remorse shown for her daughter. She doesn’t even seem to like the kid, and Amy clearly doesn’t take to her.” He stops and points to Wraith. “Get another brother at the hospital. Heart’s lingerin’ on, don’t want him helped on his way. If Amy’s an orphan it makes their case easier.”
“I’ll get on it, Prez.”
“What I can’t figure out is the Herreras. Sure, they’re dirty all right, but snatchin’ young kids isn’t what I’d expect from them.”
“That hit me too.”
“What was your readin’ when we met the top man, Leonardo?” The VP asks.
I lean my head to one side, then respond. “I’d have said Herrera was shocked.”
“Hmm. Me too.” Drum shakes his head. “Fuck me, I wish I could get just five minutes around here without somethin’ kickin’ off. Rock Demons, human traffickers, and now the Herreras and baby snatchin’.”
“I hear ya, Prez.” Wraith looks tired too. It makes me glad I’m just a normal member and not one of the officers.
“We’ll have church in a few, bring everyone up to date. And arrange for a show of force at the fuckin’ funeral.”
I’d forgotten about that. “You think they’d try to take her then?”
Drum taps his fingers against his mouth. “I wouldn’t rule anythin’ out at this point.” His face gives his twisted grin. “Crystal’s a respected ol’ lady. Reckon there’ll be a lot of us wantin’ to show our respects.”