Chapter 9

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The paper with new revelations regarding Heidi shook in Glen's hand. His lip twitched, and he rubbed his forearm across his mouth. He'd expected to hear something she hadn't divulged, but not this.

Wayne kicked his feet up to the edge of the desk. Chuck and Thad stepped away quietly in Wayne's garage, leaving Glen time to soak in the information the background check had brought to his attention. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't to hear that Heidi Lundin was a deceased woman, born in nineteen-ten, buried in South Carolina.

"We should double check. Maybe you pulled up her great-grandma. They could share a name." Glen folded the piece of paper in half and placed it back on the desk.

Chuck approached him. "Already did. There have been cases where people with the same name or even the same birthdate have had their identity compromised, or social security numbers are only one number off from someone else's, and the system mixes up two people."

Deep down, he'd known something wasn't right. It wasn't her homeless state. It wasn't because the state of Oregon's records was mixed up or someone compromised Heidi's identity. She had a fake I.D. A damn good one.

An hour ago, the woman kissing him was honest. Everything else was a lie.

"There are lots of reasons why someone would hide who they are," said Thad.

Glen blew out his breath and cupped his jaw. "I don't know what to think."

"She's in the house with my woman." Wayne hooked his hands behind his head. "I don't like that."

"Heidi's not dangerous." The second he'd said the words, he couldn't swear on his life that she wasn't. "I'll take her back to my house."

"Hold on." Wayne's feet hit the concrete floor of the garage. "Thad?"

Thad leaned down and planted his hands on the desk. "Yeah?"

"Make yourself useful in the house and stick to Clara and Gracie." Wayne raised his gaze to Glen. "I have a call into Gomez."

Glen's gut tightened. "God damnit. I don't want her arrested."

Wayne shook his head. "It's a general interest call."

"Jesus Christ," mumbled Glen, stepping away from the desk. "Un-fucking-believable."

Heidi was inside the house, thinking he only had to meet with his MC brothers, expecting him to walk out and take her back to his house. It was fucking Sunday. There were no missing person cases open, he had to go back to work tomorrow. All he wanted to do was go home and continue what he'd started with Heidi.

He picked up a spare helmet sitting on the filing cabinet and swung his arm out, wanting to smash it against the wall. Instead, he hit his fist against the top of the helmet and let out some of his frustration. Frustration with himself for taking in a stray woman and letting his dick make his decisions.

Heidi had nothing to do with Notus Motorcycle Club. He wasn't obligated to help her.

"I'm going." Glen turned toward Wayne. "You need me, you know where to find me."

Wayne stood, and his phone rang. "Hold on."

He waited, only because he could feel himself going off half-cocked. He wasn't going to run away from the information surrounding Heidi. She hadn't done anything wrong, and he wanted someone, anyone, to prove that she was real with him.

"I'm going to give the phone to Glen. You can fill him in." Wayne stepped over to him and handed over the cell. "It's Gomez."

He put the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Wayne had me run a check on Heidi Lundin. Two nights ago, I was on a call to the Quimby apartment complex to serve eviction papers and escort the squatters out of the building. Ms. Lundin was one of the women staying there. We ran her through the system, and she had no priors or warrants out for her arrest and was free to go. The apartment wasn't in her name," said Gomez.

"I already knew that." The pressure in his chest eased.

"That happened the same night Notus found Alex Craine overdosed." Gomez paused. "It was a busy night in the emergency room."

Glen looked around at his MC brothers. "Who else was brought in?"

"A Jane Doe. She was in the apartment that Heidi was staying in. Unfortunately, she didn't make it and was DOA upon arrival to the hospital," said Gomez. "We're still trying to find a woman by the name of Doris Hinkle who was the one responsible for the apartment to try and identify the Jane. Because I wasn't the one who questioned Ms. Lundin at the scene, I didn't recognize her as one of the occupants when I was at your house. Is she still staying with you?"

"Is she a suspect?" asked Glen.

He refused to answer any questions until he understood the full story. As far as he could tell, Heidi was at the wrong place at the wrong time. She wasn't a heroin addict, and over the last two days, he could confidently swear that she wasn't a drug user. At least currently.

"No." Gomez exhaled over the phone. "Because of the number of women in the apartment and finding no drugs on any of them, we can't hold them responsible. If there were only one or two friends with her and they refused to call for help, we could find them negligent. As it is, we don't know what went down before opening the door. It was more the good luck that we paid a professional visit per the manager and found the Jane. If we would've been there fifteen minutes earlier..."

"I'll call you back." He handed the phone to Wayne.

He walked over to the filing cabinet and picked up a bottle of whiskey on the top and took a long swig. Without even asking Heidi, he knew she'd never agreed to go to the police station and talk with Lieutenant Gomez.

She was too defensive. Too closed off. Too independent.

There had to be a reason for Heidi to be staying with him outside of their mutual attraction to each other and her being down on her luck.