I slammed my way into the front office of the motel, the door flying open so hard the top pane of glass that read “Management” nearly shattered as it hit the wall.

A heavyset guy in his late fifties came stumbling out of the back as I stomped into the office, the wind blowing past me through the open door and sending paperwork flying.

“Hey!” he yelled, swiping a hand over his greasy hair, flipping it back over his bald spot. He rushed around the small administration desk and came right at me. “What the fuck you doing, asshole?”

“Depends,” I said as I crossed the room and met him, grabbing the front of his button-up shirt before he could figure out what was even going on, “you the guy who let some hitter into my girl’s room?”

“What? What? Hey, mister, that wasn’t me!”

I didn’t normally lose my temper. Right then, though, I was seeing red and had been since I’d gotten the call from Elise when I was halfway home.

I threw him back against the wall, hard enough to knock the air from his chest.

He slumped forward into my hands.

“Wasn’t you that gave that asshole the key to her room, huh? Called him up last night when she got in and you caught a look at her?” I shook him hard, slamming his head against the office’s cheap wood paneling, producing a squawk of pain.

“I ain’t got any idea what you’re talking about, man!”

I pulled my fist back and slammed it into his face.

He screamed as his nose crunched beneath my fist, the cartridge breaking, blood pouring down into his open mouth. He looked up at me in shock, like a five-year-old who just had their toy taken away.

“That jog your memory?”

“Fuck!” he roared, his voice nasal and stuffy. “You just broke my fucking nose!”

I shook him again, the blood coming down over his chin now and dribbling down his shirt. “Starting talking, or I’m gonna do a helluva lot worse, asshole. Talk!”

“Shit, mister, I just—she’s been on the radar.”

“The radar? Whose radar?”

“They’ve had feelers out on her all over the area. They found out she stayed here and if I didn’t say something, I’d be dead! Out of business, at least!”

“Feelers, huh? Who? Tell me!”

He cringed, trying to twist out of my grasp. “Who? You don’t know?”

I shook him hard again, got in his face, the smell of his blood filling my nose, my anger growing hotter. “Who?” I growled.

“The Denver Mafia, man! The Florentino Family!”

“Florentino?” I asked. I released my grip on him, letting him slide down the wall to the floor, to the carpet that looked like it hadn’t been redone since the Clinton administration. “What the hell do they want with her?”

He shook his head and tried to touch a hand to his nose, but just winced. “I don’t know. Drugs, I think. Something about a package going missing.”

“Well it wasn’t her, fucker. What do you think of that?”

He cringed. “I know, I know. The guy came by, told me I could fuck off for wasting his time.”

“Who? Who came by?”

He looked up at me with terror in his eyes. If he was scared of me—and believe me, he was—the man who’d been here earlier had been some sort of existential horror. The kind you wake up screaming about in the middle of the night. He just shook his head. “No. No, I can’t tell you that.”

I leaned down close and got in his face. “Well, asshole, here’s something to think about. That asshole is out there somewhere.”

He nodded.

“This asshole, though?” I pointed to my chest. “He’s right here. Now talk.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing like a fishing lure on a pond. “Okay,” he said finally. “Trigger Thomas.”

“Trigger?”

“That’s what they call him.”

“Cause they need someone that can pull it?”

He nodded and licked where my fist had split his lip. “Yeah. I think so.”

I stood up, pulled out my wallet, and doled out three fifty-dollar bills. I dropped them in his lap. “This is for the room. She’s canceling the rest of her reservation.”

He leaned his head back again the wall in pain and  just silently watched me go.

“Jesus Christ, Jake!” Elise said as I climbed into the truck. We’d stuffed her bag at her feet, and she had to sit sideways so her knees and lower body were pointed towards me. “What the fuck happened to your hand?”

I glanced down at it dismissively and just grunted with a grim smile. “Guy was an asshole who gave some fucker your key. What’d you expect me to do? Buy him a beer and bring him flowers?”

She ran a hand down her face, a hint of a smile curling her lips. “Is it broken or anything?”

“Think I don’t know how to throw a punch?” I asked as I started the old truck up and threw it in reverse.

She just shook her head. “Just get us out of here. I don’t wanna see this motel ever again unless it’s in the rearview.”

We took off down the highway that led north toward to my place, which was down the road from Peter’s. It was a smaller piece of land, but I had more trees. As I drove, I told her what the motel manager had told me.

“Drugs?” she asked when I finished, her face twisted into a mixture of anger and agony. Throw a splash of gin in there, you’d have a nasty cocktail. Call it the Mad as Hell. “Dammit, Eve. Of all the shit in the world, she had to get wrapped up in drugs?”

“Prefer she was loan sharking or something? Boosting cars? Come on, it could be worse.”

“I almost prefer her to be selling herself instead of ripping off the fucking mob. How are they still even around? I thought they’d all disappeared back in the 80s.”

I snorted. “As long as there’s something illegal to sell, mob’s always going to be around. That’s just the way things are in this world. Might not be the Italians, but there are always going to be groups. Armenians, Russians, Georgians, Colombian. They’re all just the mob from different countries.”

We lapsed into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive to the cabin. I had to admit, it was nice having an attractive young woman riding shotgun back to my place. When I’d occasionally pick up a girl in town, we always went back to her cabin, apartment, or hotel room—not that I made a habit of picking up strange women in bars, or anything, but sometimes there was only one fix for the symptoms of loneliness. Especially when all the shifters around you were running off and finding their true mates.

I glanced over at Elise, watching her profile for a moment in the moonlight reflecting back from the snow-covered ground. She had a strong chin to go with those high cheekbones, and bright hazel eyes. And, God, that hair. I just wanted to run my fingers through it. Maybe while we were watching a movie late at night, glasses of wine in hand? She didn’t seem much like the wine drinking type, though. Beer for her. Something domestic. Or maybe liquor. Maybe she was a cocktail drinker. I mentally shook my head to clear these completely unwarranted thoughts. Why was I even thinking about a cozy night in with her? I had a case to solve.

I slowed the truck and turned into the little gravel road that led up to my cabin. I wove us through the trees, following the path as we crunched over the rutted ice and snow build-up.

“Is this it?” she asked as she peered ahead through the windshield at my little cabin. It was small, but more than enough for me. I don’t think I would even know what to do with more than three bedrooms. As it was, three was more than plenty for me. What were you supposed to do with that much space, anyways? Buy stuff you didn’t need to shove in there?

“This is it.”

“Never struck me as much of an out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere kind of guy. Thought you were from LA. A city boy.”

“Ever think that’s the reason why I live outside of town? I like the city for the night life and the action. Here, though, it’s quiet. Nothing to bother you.”

“Same thing with my dad. He grew up in DC and wanted to get away from everything. Said the city was great for finding a band you like, but not much for sleeping.”

“DC used to be pretty rough.”

“Guess that explains my dad.”

I raised an eyebrow at her.

She just smiled. “He wouldn’t have hurt a fly. Not unless it tried to come on his land without asking first. Or landed on me or Eve.”

Grinning back at her, I killed the engine and stomped in the emergency brake. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’re sleeping tonight.”

“Wait, what?” she asked as I closed my door behind me. “We’re not going tonight?” she yelled from inside the cab. She climbed out and slammed her door shut, and came rushing up with her duffel bag thrown over her shoulder. “I thought we were going to Yellow Rose tonight!”

I pulled out my keys and found the one to my cabin. “Look, Elise, it’s only an hour drive. You want a shower, I want a shower. I only have the one, so we’ll have to take turns. Unless you want to scrub my back, of course.”

She gave me a look like she was about to take me up on that offer, but just shook her head.

“By the time we’re done with that, it’ll be close to ten or later. Have you eaten? Because I haven’t eaten since noon and I’m starving. That’s another hour, at least. So we’re out in Yellow Rose by, what, midnight at best? Then what? Duck into some random noisy bar, trying to find someone that doesn’t even want to be found?”

She sighed with resignation, admitting defeat. “Fine. But I call dibs on the shower.”

My nose twitched. I still couldn’t get the faint smell of Kevin’s corpse off my clothes, or the fragrance of rotting meat and vegetables from his refrigerator. “Sure,” I said. “Just don’t take too long. The hot water heater’s about the size of a pint glass.”