Chapter Fifteen

December 2014

 

 

“I thought we had an agreement,” Betsy hissed as she reached around Lauren to grab plates from the cabinet, barely missing her head as she opened it.

Lauren jumped out of the way and whispered, “We had an agreement that I wouldn’t go out for his birthday. You never said anything about accepting his invitation to dinner so I could meet his mother.”

I stood in the doorway and watched them continue bickering back and forth before jumping in. “Good to see that you two have met. I’m just gonna go upstairs and change clothes.”

They both froze and then slowly turned around to face me.

“You’re home early!” My mother exclaimed.

I’d pictured them meeting and instantly becoming best friends. Then again, my mother did hang around my father voluntarily, so her idea of a good time and mine differed slightly.

Lauren stared down at the counter, refusing to look at me. Even the tips of her ears were pink. “Lauren, can I talk to you upstairs?”

I didn’t miss the triumphant look my mother shot her as she left the kitchen. Meeting her mother had been a hell of a lot easier. Lauren had told me that Monica was a recovering addict, yet left out the part about the MC. Still, I felt like it was a step in the right direction. So much so, that I invited my mom out to meet her.

Once we reached my bedroom, I turned to her. “So, you met my mother on my birthday?”

She sighed, “Yes, I met your mother on your birthday. It didn’t go well. End of story.”

I loosened my tie. “Care to elaborate?”

With her head cocked to the side, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Am I being formally charged with something, Detective?”

Damn. My mother really got her riled up.

I fumbled with the last button trying to get my shirt off before making my way back over to her. “Darlin’, you know if I’m gonna question you, I’m using the cuffs to keep you compliant.”

When that didn’t earn me a grin, I started to worry. I pulled her into my arms and rubbed her back. “So, you and my mom don’t get along. Big fucking deal. It doesn’t change how I feel about you, Red.”

“I met your mom while I was performing a Brazilian wax on myself. She walked in right as I ripped the wax off, taking part of my labia majora…or was it minora… with me. She steri-stripped my lady-bits and then told me to stay away from you.”

Steri-stripped her lady-bits?

I brought my fist up to my mouth in an effort to keep from laughing. Jesus, I would’ve paid good money to see a video of that. My mother was the queen of steri-strips—she’d pieced me and my father back together with them more times than I could count. Lauren’s story finally explained why I’d only gotten a Birthday BJ that night, instead of the real deal.

She pushed off of my chest and glared angrily up at me. “Don’t laugh at me. It could’ve happened to anyone. She also said she was going to tell you that she thought I had an STD.”

The laughter died in my throat. “She did what?”

I’d watched my mother self-destruct on multiple occasions as she allowed herself to get involved with my father. I even reached a point where it didn’t affect me. She was an adult and if she wanted to involve herself with a man who was physically and verbally abusive, then that was her choice. But, to try and break up my relationship with Lauren under some guise of caring crossed the line.

“Stay right here,” I told her before jogging down the stairs.

My mother sat at the table with an expectant smile on her face. “How’d that go? Did you let her down gently?”

I gripped the corner of the table with both hands because of the strong urge to throttle her. “Are you really trying to get rid of the one person who makes me happy?”

Her face paled. “You mean, you two are serious?”

I rolled my eyes. “Cut the shit, Mom.”

Lauren poked her head around the corner. “I’m just gonna go—give you two a chance to catch up.”

“No, your ass is staying. If anyone needs to leave, it’d be Betsy over here.”

My mother matched my glare and we ended up in a stand-off while Lauren went back into the kitchen. Her phone began ringing and she answered it, leaving the two of us alone again.

“You need to apologize.”

My mother nodded. “Stay here and let me talk to her.”

I straightened the napkin next to my plate and was debating on moving the silverware around next when Lauren yelled my name.

I was in the kitchen with her in two seconds. “What’s wrong? What did you do now?” I pointed at my mother and she immediately shook her head, pointing back at Lauren.

She covered the speaker. “It’s David. Elizabeth got a text from me to go up to the office and print out schedules in case we get snowed in tonight, but I didn’t text her. He’s up there now and she’s not answering her phone. I’m going to go let him in.”

“Get in the truck. I’ll drive you. Mom—”

She nodded and patted my arm. “I know the routine. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Lauren got back on the phone. “David, Mike and I are on our way. Give us a couple of minutes.”

I had the lights flashing on my truck before we even hit the end of the dirt driveway.

“Lauren, did he say anything else?”

She shook her head. “No, just that she’d left after receiving the text and now he can’t get ahold of her. Who would’ve texted her?”

I shook my head and ran my third light. “I don’t know. You’re sure you didn’t text her?”

She frowned. “I think I’d remember texting her. Maybe it was a glitch.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the dental office on two wheels. Lauren’s hands shook violently as she worked to get the door unlocked and the lights on.

We were dealing with a crime scene. Elizabeth’s coat and purse were lying in the floor near some blood and what had to be vomit. I grabbed my cell phone and pulled up the Find My Friends app just on the off-chance she’d made it out with her phone. It pinged her location south of town.

“Shit! Laur—call 911. Do not, under any circumstances, tell them I was here. David, get in the truck!”

She kept staring at the bloody handprint, with her hand pressed over her mouth. “Mike, what’s going on?”

I looked down to see that her phone was still tracking south; we needed to be on the road. “She somehow made it out of here with her phone on her,” I held it up to show them, “Whoever has her is outside the city, heading south.”

I pulled Lauren into my arms and kissed her gently. “Just do what I said. Tell them you came up here to meet her and found this—don’t touch anything.”

She nodded, but it was obvious she was still lost. I wasn’t waiting around to explain it to her. I knew if we waited and went through all the proper channels, Elizabeth would end up like Katya…or worse.

I retrieved my Glock and handed David my spare .40 caliber Smith & Wesson. “We’re gonna need these.” We were expecting the blizzard of the century tonight and I’d bet money that whoever took her was counting on that to delay a search.

I pulled out my cell phone and double checked her location again before firing off a quick text to Grey.

Me-

“911—33°17'04.4"N 101°56'52.4"W.”

“David, I’m gonna need you to pull up the app. Make sure her location doesn’t move from that spot. Okay?”

He nodded. “Just fucking drive as fast as you can, Mike. She’s twenty-eight weeks pregnant—who would take her?”

I had an idea. And if I was right, we needed to get there sooner rather than later. Grey texted back.

“10-4. North location.”

I nodded and tucked the phone back into the cup-holder. This time the club was going to get clean-up duty for me. David gave me updates, but otherwise neither one of us spoke. I wasn’t about to tell him I’d reached out to Grey for back-up. It was too reminiscent of Patrick.

“I want to kill this guy myself.”

I turned to David in surprise. “What?”

He continued talking, while staring straight ahead. “You told me that if there was ever a time that I needed it, you would cover up for me. I wanna cash in that favor now.”

I nodded. “Consider it done.”

 

We pulled up to an old farmhouse and jumped out to the sound of screaming. David didn’t hesitate, just ran inside, screaming Elizabeth’s name.

“Where the fuck is she?” He yelled wildly as I ran in behind him.

I pointed to a shut door and held a finger to my lips, trying to convey that the element of surprise could be the only thing that kept us alive. “Basement. Go.”

He didn’t heed my warning and ran down the stairs, gun drawn. I’d only made it down three of the steps when I realized my suspicion was correct. Landon Scott has his arm around Elizabeth’s throat, slowly choking her to death.

I was ready to end him, but I’d promised David. “David?” I questioned, but he just stood there, his gun trained on Landon, and a look of helplessness on his face.

He couldn’t do it.

Something jumped out of the corner and I trained my gun on it as it sank a screwdriver in between Landon’s shoulder blades. He immediately dropped Elizabeth and turned on his attacker, a woman. With his hand on her throat, he backed her into a wall.

I brought the gun down and fired a round off into the back of his left calf. His tibia and fibula broke through the skin and he fell forward onto the dirt floor with a loud exhale.

I rushed over to the woman and pulled him off of her. She reminded me of a documentary I watched on the Holocaust. A walking skeleton, covered by a thin layer of skin. I couldn’t imagine where she’d found the energy to stab Landon, to be honest.

I knelt down in front of her, trying to match her face to any of the missing person posters littering the station wall. “I’m Detective Michael Sullivan. Can you tell me your name, ma’am?”

“Ka-Katya.”

Holy fuck.

She looked nothing like the woman whose face was plastered across billboards and posters.

With wide eyes, I asked, “Egorichev?”

She nodded and I inspected the shallow cuts and purple bruises on her face. She winced and moved away from my hand. When Elizabeth groaned, I turned back to David.

“Mike, we’re going to need an ambulance. She’s in bad shape.” Elizabeth was panting heavily and trying to sit up as blood gushed between her legs. I knew next to nothing about pregnancy, but I was pretty damn sure that wasn’t normal.

She cried out in pain again before losing consciousness. “We’re going to need an ambulance for both of them. We just found Katya Egorichev.”

The motherfucker I’d interviewed repeatedly had her the entire time. The loving boyfriend who’d organized countless search parties and press conferences had been my number one suspect in the beginning, but there’d been no evidence to support it.

Left with no other options and praying that Grey was close, I called it in. Dispatch gave me the run around as I explained the situation and I lost my temper. “Fuck! I’m aware that we’re under a blizzard warning—I’ve got two women who need immediate medical attention!”

They finally gave in and told me they’d send a chopper to meet us at the nearest highway. I lifted Katya up in my arms, trying not jar her broken body as we mounted the stairs. David settled Elizabeth into the front seat, while I buckled Katya into the back. The case that had plagued me for months was going to be closed—why didn’t that leave me with a good feeling?

I felt like I should’ve known where she was all along. If only we’d had a tail on Landon twenty-four hours a day. She kept a death grip on me, even as I tried to back out of the truck.

Knowing what was about to happen back inside, I handed David my phone. I didn’t need anyone looking into my location. “Go, I’ll catch up with you! They’ll get you to the chopper. Hurry—this storm won’t hold back much longer.”

I released Katya’s hands from the front of my shirt and pointed back to the house. “I’m going to take care of him. I will come to you, I promise.”

I was thinking I had maybe ten minutes to get Landon out of the house when Grey roared up in his truck.

“What do we have?” He asked somberly.

I clenched my jaw. “Found my missing model…and David’s wife holed up in here. The fucker’s wounded, but I need him alive. I promised David.”

He didn’t question my logic, just nodded, and headed into the house with his gun drawn. “The boys should be pulling up in about thirty seconds.”

We dragged Landon up out of the basement as he cursed us both and bragged about his exploits. “You cops think you’re so fucking smart, but you’re not. You’re all just a bunch of lackeys, standing around until your shift ends, hoping the next peon is the one who cracks the case for you. It’s just laziness, Detective. Sheer laziness.”

Grey had simply given him an amused smirk, while I’d snarled, “Your death is going to be a slow one, asshole.” I’d put in countless hours trying to find Katya and he’d been toying with us from day one. Shift work? I’d sacrificed a real relationship, jumping through hoops for the bastard.

He’d nodded. “Yeah, rotting away in a prison cell. I wonder how much free time I’ll get to write letters. If I’m a model prisoner, I might even get early parole.”

Grey swung his steel-toed boot out and caught Landon in his wounded leg, sending him face down in the front yard with a yell. “Oh, Jesus, son. You’re gonna have to watch where you step.”

He’d bitten his tongue in the fall and spewed a mouthful of blood as he screamed, “And who the fuck are you? The bad cop to Sullivan’s good cop?”

Grey grinned. “I’m the motherfucking Pres of Silent Phoenix MC. I’d say that’s about the furthest thing from a cop, wouldn’t you?”

Landon’s face paled as Grey slipped on his gloves. He forced Landon into the driver’s seat of his own truck, making sure to dump as much blood in the floorboard as possible.

“It’s a shame you tried to outrun the cops in this weather,” I told him just as the cavalry arrived.

The Comedian was the first one to walk up. “Well, well. Looks like this one found himself some trouble.” He yanked Landon from his truck and dragged him over to his. “Let’s take a trip,” he grinned.

Landon shot a helpless look toward me. “You’re a fucking cop, Sullivan. You can’t just hand me over to a bunch of bikers. It goes against your fucking oath to serve and protect!”

I nodded. “You’re right. I see that as more of a guideline than a rule though. You know, following my own code—kinda like you did.”

Landon began fighting to get out of my father’s truck. “I’ll see you in Hell, Sullivan. You hear me?” My father caught him with an elbow and he immediately slumped over in the front seat.

“Looking forward to it,” I muttered. I’d solved the case and kept my promise to David. My hands were clean as far as I was concerned.

Grey directed another member to drop the truck as far away from the farmhouse as possible before turning to me. “We’re heading out. He’ll be up north when you’re ready. You know the coordinates.”

It was done.

Well, almost.

I pulled my burner phone from my back pocket. “Nikolay? It’s Detective Sullivan. We got her. She’s been taken to the hospital.”

“Who was it?” His tone was brisk.

I rubbed at the back of neck and sighed, “Landon Scott.”

He gasped and went silent for a full ten seconds before replying, “My deal stands. Forty thousand if he never makes it to jail. I won’t have Ekaterina subjected to him any further. Either you take the money or I’ll find someone else, but that man’s life will end soon.”

It’d been a discussion he and I had multiple times throughout the investigation. Once I’d ruled him out as a suspect, he’d turned to plans of revenge. “Detective, I know people who could make her kidnapper disappear. They would never find any trace. I could make it worth your while.”

Once he’d mentioned the cash, I was in. It didn’t matter to me how his guys dealt with it as long as I got the money. Then, Elizabeth got thrust into it. My promise to David trumped my promise to Nikolay.

“Niko, my best friend’s wife was found with your daughter. Trust me when I say that it’s being dealt with.” What the fuck was I doing? I never involved civilians in club business.

There was no way in hell that Nikolay was just a civilian though. After several meetings with him, I’d left feeling like he’d been interrogating me. My guess was CIA operative— or spy. Either one would explain the cash he had readily available to pay off lowly detectives like myself.

 “Call me when it’s done and I’ll get you the money. I want proof though.” He disconnected the call as sirens wailed in the distance.

For the first time in a long time, I worried that I’d gotten in over my head. I was no longer just an accomplice to the club. I was now a dirty cop who accepted bribes to look the other way.

I’d lived with the man in the mirror for thirty-two years now. I just hoped after it was all said and done that I’d still be able to.