Chapter 12

Dart

Once seated in church, Snake wastes no time getting down to business. He takes out a smoke but doesn’t pass them around. After he’s lit it he waves the glowing tip toward me. “Dart, here, our brother from Tucson, has a problem he may need our help on. Wanna fill us in, Dart?”

Despite my despair, I’m heartened that every man here turns and gives me a nod, chin lift, or other such indication they’ll try to help sort whatever is wrong.

“We run a strip club,” I begin, knowing that’s not news for anyone around the table. “One of the girls came from San D, as she’d had problems with her man. Got a young son, he’s got sickle cell disease.”

Poke, the sergeant-at-arms, scrunches his face. “She black?” he asks, his mouth gaping.

Immediately I’m on the defensive. “Yeah, she’s black. So what?”

“White club, man.” Tinder’s shaking his head.

Slick bangs his hands on the table and goes as if to stand up. “If you fuckers gonna take exception to my brother’s ol’ lady, then we’ll do this alone. Come on, Mouse…”

Snake knocks the gavel loudly against the table. “Sit down, Slick. Everyone just calm down. We might not have a black brother in the club, but our rules don’t say nothin’ ‘bout the ladies. Fancied myself a bit of dark meat a time or too.”

I bite back my anger, and note the way Slick’s said Alex is mine and that I don’t rush to refute it. Applying the ownership label might get us more help. Getting our relationship straight in their minds can come later. Right now, I just know that I want to have her and Tyler back safe and sound.

“When you’re ready, Dart.”

I nod at Snake. “Her old man’s a cop. Ronald Thompson is his name. Based here in San Diego.”

“And that’s who’s taken her?”

I look at his flash to remind me of his name. “Yeah, Snips. That’s what we believe. Me and my brothers came here to have a chat with him. The kid needs treatment and he’s not payin’ up.” I go on to explain how we’d visited Thompson’s second home and what we’d discovered.

“You reckon he’s bringin’ them back to San D?”

I shrug my shoulders. “He could be takin’ them anywhere. But here’s a good place to start. My feel is he’ll want them somewhere on his home turf.”

Grumbler leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest. “What d’ya reckon he wants to do with them?”

“I’ve got no fuckin’ idea. But my gut tells me whatever it is won’t be good. She was afraid for her life when she ran. He tried to kill her once already.”

Smoker gets out his cigarettes, which makes me reach into my pocket for mine. He pauses before lighting up. “I think I know Thompson. Detective, you say? Well, if he’s who I’m thinking of, he’s one sadistic motherfucker.”

Snake sits forward. “That wasn’t who…”

“Sure was, Prez. Yeah, that’s who arrested Stickler a couple of years or so back.”

The murmurs and protests around the table suggest I’m going to hear something I’m not going to like.

“You were there, Grumbler. Want to tell the Tucson boys what went down?”

Grumbler shuts his eyes as though he’s remembering the details. “We’d been out on a run. Stickler had some dope with him. For personal use.” He rubs his hand over his beard. “Stickler had served and come back with PTSD, got severe depression. He was legally prescribed marijuana. Had the letter with him an’ all.”

Snips grins. “Yeah, but while we know that, instead of carryin’ eight ounces, knowing him he probably had double that.”

Giving Snips a frown for interrupting him, Grumbler continues the tale. “The rest of us were clean. They pulled Stickler off his ride. He tried to show them the letter he had—he’d carried it around with him for ages, so it was crumpled and dirty. Cop arrestin’ him wouldn’t even look at it.”

Tinder takes up the tale. “Those fuckers had it in for him. Maybe they were down on their arrest record, I don’t know. Anyway, they were treatin’ him roughly. Stickler’s PTSD cut in. He’d been taken prisoner out in the sand pit, so he didn’t like bein’ manhandled or restrained, and started to fight back.”

“He’d have gone willingly had they just spoken to him calmly and cuffed him, but they were too rough. The way they were handling him hit one of his triggers,” Snips snarls.

“Yeah. Anyway, cop car pulls up with your friend Thompson inside. Came out swingin’ a baton…”

I haven’t seen anyone called Stickler around. “And…?” I prompt, already having a bad taste in my mouth.

“Last we saw of him he was unconscious.”

“Word was he died resistin’ arrest.”

“Man, that blow was fuckin’ hard. Heard his skull crack.”

“And you just stood there and watched?” Slick sounds appalled.

“Wasn’t much we could do, man. They took him away, said they’d get medical help. There were only three of us, and by the time Thompson arrived with his partner, four of them. Without killin’ all the cops we had to trust they’d do what they said.” Lost, their VP, silent up until now, is obviously still upset at what happened.

Again, Smoker leans forward. “Bird kicked up a fuckin’ fuss. But couldn’t shake them from the official story. Made sure he got a hero’s fuckin’ funeral, press there, Patriot Guard Riders, the lot. There was a story in the paper sayin’ he’d been legally carryin’ and that the cops had fucked up.” My brow creases, and then I remember Bird was in the prez’s chair before Snake.

Grumbler lifts his hand, letting me know there’s more to this story. “Strange thing was, Thompson’s name was kept out of it. Accordin’ to the police, it was one of the traffic cops who’d hit him too hard.”

“So how d’ya know?”

“Apart from that we saw it with our own fuckin’ eyes?” he scoffs, then shrugs. “Cop who got blamed wasn’t too happy about it. Had a loose mouth. We sent one of the prospects into the drinkin’ place they prefer and he heard him mouthin’ off.”

“If you want help takin’ that motherfucker down, we’re right there behind you. And I don’t think we need to take a vote on that.” Snake eyes up his men, every one of them nodding. While I feel chilled inside. To kill a man for legal possession of dope? What would Thompson do to his wife who’d run off? Or Tyler, come to that.

Something’s niggling at me. “Why didn’t you tell us this before, Snake, when Drum asked if you knew the fucker?”

Snake shrugs. “I wasn’t in the chair when it happened, and didn’t immediately remember. Fuck, Dart, I don’t carry the names of all the fuckin’ cops in the city in my head.”

No, but wouldn’t you remember the one who’d killed a brother? I shake my head. Still, whether or not he’d have told us earlier wouldn’t have made much difference. Couldn’t make me hate Thompson any more than I already do.

Mouse has been tapping away at his laptop. He’s also been exchanging muttered asides to Token, who’s apparently Snake’s go-to computer guy. Apparently, his full handle’s Hard Token, but fuck knows what that is.

Suddenly Mouse looks up. “Can’t link Thompson to any more properties than the two we already know about. Can’t find a lock-up or anythin’ like.”

“Doesn’t mean he hasn’t got somewhere else.”

Token points to the laptop screen. “Mouse has looked everywhere I would. Even into his financials.” He breaks off and nudges Mouse. “Show me how to do that sometime, will ya?”

Mouse looks smug. “Got expert help from an Arab hacker, man.”

I’m getting frustrated. “When you’ve finished your fuckin’ bondin’ session, can you put that in English?”

“Yeah, Dart. We couldn’t find any regular payments goin’ out for anywhere he might have rented.”

“He’s a cop,” Snake says drily. “He’ll know all sorts of places and all kinds of types.”

My leg’s bouncing and I’m finding it hard sitting here doing nothing. “Why don’t we start with visiting the houses we know about first? Good thing is, he won’t know anyone will be lookin’ for him.”

Slick’s running his hands over his bald head. “The girlfriend might have more info about places he’d go.”

“Good point, Brother. Think it’s time we put a bit of pressure on there.” We hadn’t thought we’d needed to question her further. The only thought on my mind when we’d left her was how quickly we could get to Alex and her kid.

I glance toward Snake. I want to get moving, but protocol says he’s got to wrap this up. He must see my impatience, as he raps on the table. “Okay, we split into two groups, visit both houses. Dart, where d’ya wanna be, man?”

And that’s my conundrum. Do I want to go to their marital home, the obvious place where he might take her? Or, on the assumption he’s stashed them somewhere else, be the one interrogating his girlfriend? Fuck, I don’t know. I just want to find her safe. He’s already had her for a day and a half, fuck knows what he might have done. An image comes into my head of the way she owned that pole, and it hits me I can’t handle the thought of not seeing her again. What do I do? Go after more information, or on what could turn out to be a wild goose chase?

Slick sees my confusion. “Brother. My gut feel is he wouldn’t take her to the house, not unless he wants to resume playin’ happy families. And from what you said, I’d say there was fuck all chance of that. But it needs to be checked out, just in case. Let’s go question the girlfriend. I didn’t like hearin’ that story about him and Stickler. The sooner we get hold of Alex and Tyler the happier I’ll be.”

You and me both, Brother. But what he says makes sense. I just don’t like the thought that she might be in the most obvious place and I’m not there to rescue her.

Snake is staring at me, his hands playing with his long hair. As he twists it around his finger, he clears his throat. “Dart, understand your concerns. I’ll take point goin’ to this fucker’s house. If the girl’s there, I bring her and the kid back here and keep them safe.” He gives a wicked chuckle. “Hell, I’ll throw in that fucker Thompson as well. Reckon we’d all like to have a chat with him.”

‘Fuck yeahs’ and ‘bet your fucking ass we do’ fly around the table as brothers vocalise their agreement, and Grumbler cracks his knuckles.

“Right,” I step up. “Slick and I’ll go question the girlfriend. If Thompson is there we’ll bring him back. That means we both need trucks of some sort?” Snake nods to show he’s got that sorted. “If we find anythin’ else we’ll keep in touch.”

“We’ve got your ass, Brother. Soon as any of us know anythin’ we’ll share the news.” He assigns various brothers to accompany me and Slick, Mouse offers to go with Snake as Alex and the boy know him, then the prez picks up the gavel. “Anyone else got anythin’ they wanna say? Okay, brothers, get out of here and go do what ya got to do.”

As I walk out, Slick pulls me aside. “Wasn’t sure of the support we were gonna get here. Not after they sent Buster our way.”

That thought had occurred to me. Buster had transferred to the Tucson chapter and all but raped Wraith’s old lady. Of course, he’s no longer alive to tell the tale. Some of the San D boys have no reason to love us, but I hadn’t picked up on that vibe around the table. Thank fuck.

Without wasting any more time, we go to our bikes. Apart from Slick, Lost and Tinder are coming with us, as well Snips and Smoker. Poke is going along with Snake and Mouse, along with a couple more of their boys. Two trucks are already waiting for us, each being driven by a prospect. Prepared as we can be, we peel out of the lot and once more retrace our steps back through the city.

We don’t try to be quiet as we thunder up to the house. Knowing the loud pipes will have announced our arrival, I send Tinder and Snips around the back so no one gets out that way, and then approach the front door, which flies open before I raise my hand to knock. Thank fuck Tyler didn’t take his mama’s message to heart.

For a second I just stand there open-mouthed as the boy leaps into my arms. It takes me a second to realise tears are falling down his cheeks and he’s hanging onto me as though his life depended on it.

After disentangling myself from his tight hold, I lean back so I can see into his face. “Where’s yer mom?” While I’m waiting for an answer, I look behind him. Slick pushes past and goes inside.

“Daddy took her away. I don’t think she wanted to go, Dart.” He sobs out the words. “She was crying. I saw him hit her.” My arms automatically squeeze him, trying to give him comfort, while inside I’m burning with rage. Thompson dared hurt her? And in front of the boy?

Slick emerges from a back room, his hand curled around the girlfriend’s arm. He’s being none to gentle, but I don’t give a damn.

“Where the fuck is Thompson?” I hiss through my teeth, not wanting to yell and upset Tyler any more than he already is. “And where’s he taken Alex, his wife?”

Her eyes are flicking around in horror. “Please get out of my house. Tyler. Come here, son.”

Tyler only holds on to me tighter.

“Please.” She sounds panicked. “He left the boy with me. Said we were going to be looking after him now. Please, just go. I won’t call the cops if you leave now. But you’ve got to leave Tyler here.”

She won’t be calling the cops anyway. A polite conversation won’t cut it now I know Thompson’s started hurting Alex. And we can’t leave her here, we can’t afford for her or one of his pals to get him word we’re looking for him.

I exchange a few glances with Slick, a chin jerk over my shoulder, he lifts his head in return. “Prospect,” I yell, letting Tyler down, but keeping hold of his hand. As the prospect approaches, I hold out my other hand for his keys and chuck him mine in return. I don’t trust anyone else to drive the truck, not with both Tyler and the woman on board.

Slick’s already got her hands bound behind her, and for good measure puts a gag in her mouth. She may well be innocent in all this, but I’m taking no chances, and I don’t want her mouthing off in front of the boy. As we’re putting her in the truck, Lost emerges from the house shaking his head. I know he’s been searching. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind, but we had to make sure. Tyler is right, his mom isn’t here.

“Hey, Brother. Grumbler and I will stay on for a bit. Search for any paperwork that might give away another location.”

Nodding my thanks, I turn to Tyler. “Hey, little man. You’re going to sit up front with me, okay?” I wink at him. “But don’t tell your mom.” It’s a little bit of normality, a small reassurance he’ll be seeing her again. That’s all he needs to climb confidently in and allow me to fasten the seat belt. Illegal, I know, but I’ve not got much choice. I’m not leaving him in the back with a woman I don’t trust. She’s already damned in my mind by her association with that bastard.

Tyler’s sitting wide-eyed. “Are you taking me to Mom?”

Now how the fuck do I answer that? “You’ll see her soon, buddy. You’ll see her soon.” I’m crossing my fingers, hoping that’s the truth.

I risk another glance at him, seeing his bottom lip trembling, but fuck me, he’s trying to be brave. The brothers returning to the clubhouse with me start their bikes, and we pull away, and Tyler goes quiet as we navigate the San Diego traffic then drive out of the city and up to the clubhouse. As I’m pulling up the handbrake my phone rings.

“Yeah.”

“Snake, what did you find?”

“Fuck.” I bang my fist on the steering wheel. Alex wasn’t there, and Thompson’s clearly not taking her there to resume their married life. All her clothes are trashed, and things that obviously belonged to her, hairdryer and such, have been smashed. That’s not the action of a loving husband who wants his wife back. Like we left Lost and Grumbler, a couple of Snake’s boys are staying behind to search through his stuff. Mouse is apparently dismantling the computer he found in the study to bring it back to the clubhouse.

As I help Tyler out of his seat and put him gently on the ground, the one thought going around my head is, Alex, where the fuck has that bastard taken you?