Johnson came back on the line. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
“It’s blood. I just ran a test on a stain your shoe left on my floor mat.”
“But how?”
“Must have stepped in it around the Thunder’s stash house. Bag the shoes and meet me at Bootlegger Bob’s.”
“Now?”
“We have a dead body. Your shoes are evidence.”
Rios hung up, folded the floor mat, and stuffed it into an oversize evidence bag. This wouldn’t help her reputation, but it might solve this homicide.
She carried the bag toward the long wooden building. The words BOOTLEGGER BOB’S glowed in ten-foot neon above the front entrance. Signs advertising brands of beers flashed in the windows.
Detectives Morris and Bello were standing over Gator’s body laid out on the ground ten feet from the front door. Flies buzzed around the large bloody hole in his chest.
“Evening, Detectives.”
“Thanks for coming, Toni. What’s in the bag?” asked Morris.
“You said you thought the deceased may have been killed elsewhere?”
“Yeah. Not much blood here. We did find a shotgun nearby. The whole thing looks staged.”
“I may have found your primary crime scene.”
Chapter 23
The next morning, Shea was lacing up her boots when Jessica walked into the bedroom. The scent of maple syrup drifted in with her.
“You joining us for breakfast? I made pancakes.”
“Sorry, don’t really have time. Me and the team are working on this custom bike. It’s a rush job.”
Jessica put a hand on her hip. “But it’s Saturday. I thought you were going to be spending more time with Annie.”
“I plan to, but just not this minute.” Shea stood up and gave Jess a peck on the lips while slipping on her armored hoodie. “Some suit wants a custom café racer before it gets too cold for her to ride.”
“What time will you be home?”
“In plenty of time for dinner. I promise.”
Jess sighed. “You better.”
Someone pounded on the front door. No polite knock, but an insistent hammering that only came from unwanted guests.
“You expecting someone?” Shea asked.
“No,” replied Jessica. Shea hustled into the living room, with Jessica trailing behind her. Annie was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar with a plate of pancakes, a worried expression on her face. “Take Annie into the back.” Shea picked up the baseball bat she kept near the front door and peeked through the peephole. A uniformed deputy she didn’t recognize stood on the front step. “Shit.”
Shea opened the door, holding the bat behind her back. Just in case. “Yeah?”
“I’m looking for Shea Stevens.”
“You got her.”
“I’m instructed to bring you to the Ironwood station for questioning.”
“Questioning? I don’t have time for this. If Rios wants me to make a statement about the drugs she seized last night, have her call me.” Shea started to close the door, but the deputy pushed it back open, stepping into the room.
“Shea, what’s going on?” Jessica called from behind.
The deputy drew his pistol. Jessica shrieked.
Shea held up her hands, making sure her body was between the deputy and Jessica. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! No need for guns. Rios wants me to answer some questions, I’ll answer some goddamn questions.”
The stern-faced deputy looked from Jessica to Shea, then reholstered his weapon.
Shea turned to Jessica. “It’s okay. Just a misunder—Hey!” She felt the bite of cuffs zipping closed on her wrists. “What the hell?”
“Let’s go!” The deputy grabbed her arm and dragged her down the sidewalk to his waiting patrol car.
—
After being dumped unceremoniously in a CCSO interrogation room, Shea waited for an hour before two detectives, a man and a woman, walked in.
“Shea Stevens,” said the male detective, “my name is Detective Bello. This is Detective Morris.”
Shea looked at one then the other. Something wasn’t right. “Why am I handcuffed? And where the hell’s Rios?”
“Detective Rios is not currently assigned to this case,” answered Morris.
“What the hell you talking about? I’m her CI.” Blank stares. “The one that told her where the Thunder were storing the hex they been dealing.”
“You’re referring to the cabin off Jefferson Highway?” asked Bello.
“Yes,” said Shea with considerable relief.
“No drugs were found there.”
“What? That can’t be. They were there.” If no drugs were found, that meant the Thundermen hadn’t been arrested.
Bello opened a case file and pulled out an eight-by-ten of Gator’s body, showing the bloody mess that had been his chest. “We are investigating the death of this man. Do you recognize him?”
I am so fucked, thought Shea. “I ain’t saying nothing else without my lawyer.”
—
When Dragon arrived two hours later, Shea gave her a brief rundown of the previous day’s events. When they were ready, Dragon called the detectives back into the interrogation room.
“So,” said Detective Bello, once again holding up Gator’s photo. “Do you know this man?”
Before Shea could answer, Dragon spoke up. “My client did not kill this man, although she was a witness to his death. She will tell you what she knows in exchange for full immunity for all past offenses.”
Bello’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “We’ll listen to what she has to say. If it has sufficient value, we’ll talk to the DA about immunity.”
Dragon gave Shea a nod.
“He’s a member of the Confederate Thunder,” said Shea. “Goes by the name Gator.”
“Well, he did,” said Morris. “He was found shot to death last night outside Bootlegger Bob’s, a biker bar in Bradshaw City.”
“I’ve never been there.” It was the truth. By the time Shea was of drinking age, she had ended any affiliation with her father’s club.
“We believe he was shot here.” Bello pulled out another photo, this time of the stash house. “You have been here, am I right? This is the cabin where you told Detective Rios they would find a considerable quantity of hex.”
Shea looked at Dragon, who nodded.
“The Thunder’d stolen two red bins full of hex from the Jaguars last summer. I figured that’s where they’d’ve stashed it, so I went there to confirm it was still there. But before I could, four Thundermen showed up.”
Morris took notes on a legal pad. “What are the names of these Thundermen?”
“Gator, One-Shot, Monster, and Mackey.”
“Who shot Gator?” asked Bello.
“One-Shot, the club’s president.”
Morris raised an eyebrow. “Why would he shoot his own guy?”
“He was shooting at me. I ducked behind Gator. One-Shot hit him instead.”
“Clearly, the one you want is One-Shot,” said Dragon. “My client is completely innocent.”
“Except,” said Bello, “that doesn’t explain how your fingerprints were on the shotgun we recovered.”
Shea’s chest tightened. She had forgotten about picking up the shotgun and shooting Mackey’s tank. She felt like an idiot.
Dragon leaned over to Shea. “You picked up the gun?” she whispered.
“Just to keep them from coming after me again. I didn’t shoot anyone with it. I just jammed mud in the barrels and tossed it.”
Dragon looked up at the detectives. “You found mud in the barrel of the gun, did you not?”
“We’re still waiting for the final report to come from the lab. But what if there was? We have your client’s fingerprints on the outside of the barrel and the trigger.”
“After One-Shot murdered Gator, and acting strictly in self-defense, my client grabbed the shotgun and held it to ward off further attacks. Prior to
leaving the scene, she packed the end of the barrels to prevent it from being used against her.”
Morris continued making notes. “What is One-Shot’s full name?”
“Gerald Dewey,” said Shea, remembering him from when both of their fathers were in the club.
“Unless you have any further questions, I believe we are done here,” said Dragon.
Morris and Bello looked at each other. Morris shook her head, then turned to Shea. “You’re free to go for now. But be available should we have any further questions.”
Shea followed Dragon out of the building. “Thanks for your help. You mind giving me a ride back to my shop?”
“Perhaps.” Dragon stopped and locked eyes with Shea. “But first, explain something to me. Why are you working as a confidential informant for the sheriff’s office?”
Shea held her gaze, trying to look sincere. “Look, I’m not looking to rat anyone out in the Sisterhood, if that’s what concerns you. I can keep club secrets.”
“So why are you a CI?”
“A few months back, the cops caught me at a crime scene with a gun that was linked to a series of murders. It wasn’t even my gun. I’d taken it away from a member of the Confederate Thunder after he and my sister’s old man, who was the club’s president at the time, tried to drag her outta my shop. Detective Rios threatened to send me back to prison unless I agreed to be a snitch.”
Dragon studied Shea a moment before saying, “I understand.”
“The Sisterhood ain’t doing nothing illegal, are they?”
“Sometimes the club engages in acts of…civil disobedience. To raise awareness of how women are marginalized and mistreated. I trust we can count on your discretion.”
“Fine with me. I’ve engaged in civil disobedience plenty of times. To say nothing of some not-so-civil disobedience.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Now about that ride.”
Chapter 24
Shea stood at her front door, key in hand, for what felt like an eternity after Dragon dropped her off. She had left a message on Monster’s voicemail on the way from the sheriff’s station. He was the last person she wanted to talk to, but the Thunder would soon be looking to avenge Gator’s death. Her only hope for survival was to somehow get Monster to convince the Thunder to call a cease-fire. It seemed impossible. But she had no other option.
The door opened. “Shea? What happened?”
Jessica looked concerned. But not as concerned as Shea felt. It was all starting again. Her efforts to get out of a troublesome situation were making things worse, putting those she cared about in danger. The Thunder wouldn’t think twice about hurting Jessica.
Shea hugged her. “We need to talk.”
Jessica pulled back. “Shea, what’s going on? Did they arrest the Thunder for the drugs?”
A truck rumbled past the house. Shea watched it warily. “Maybe we should discuss this inside.”
They walked in and sat on the love seat. “Where’s Annie?” asked Shea.
“Down the street at her friend Hailey’s house. Tell me what’s going on.”
Shea stared across the room as the fight at the cabin replayed in her mind. “Turns out the drugs at the Thunder’s stash house were gone by the time Rios showed up. Maybe they moved them after Deb and I were there. But for all I know, they coulda sold ’em a long time ago and just used the bins they were in for something else.”
“Then why’d that cop pick you up?”
Shea ran a hand through her hair. “A Thunderman got killed last night. The cops thought I did it.”
“You didn’t, did you?”
Shea filled in the details about what had happened. “I called Monster and left a message on his voicemail. Maybe he can get the club to back off somehow if I agree to let him see Annie. I don’t know. I’m just winging it at this point.”
“And if he doesn’t? They could come after us.”
Shea looked deeply into Jessica’s eyes, brimming with tears of fright. “I won’t let them hurt you. I will turn myself over to them before I let that happen.”
Jessica shook her head, hand covering her mouth. “No, no, no, you can’t do that. That’s suicide. Can’t you call Rios?”
“Rios can’t do shit. They didn’t bust them for their attack on the Jaguars last summer. They haven’t arrested anyone for harassing us at Gertie’s or Bike Night. We’re on our own.”
“And what about the Sisterhood? Aren’t they supposed to protect you?”
“I’m not even a prospect, so they aren’t obligated to do shit. But I can call Labrys and see—”
“No, don’t.” Jessica sat up straight and wiped her face. “We don’t need her. You and me, we’ll figure this out ourselves.”
Shea cupped Jessica’s cheek, impressed by this new show of resolve. “Yes. Yes, we will.”
—
Shea had tried Monster’s number twice more by the time she and Jessica were getting ready for their date. Still no call back. The lack of response worried her.
Shea suggested they stay home, but Jessica remained adamant. She wasn’t going to let the Thunder rob her of a long-awaited night out.
Shea came out of her walk-in closet in a T-shirt featuring an abstract printed design that incorporated the Iron Goddess Custom Cycles logo.
“You’re not really going to wear that are you?” asked Jessica, wearing only pantyhose and a bra.
“What? It’s a perfectly fine shirt. It’s clean, at least. No holes.” Shea inspected the T-shirt to double-check she hadn’t missed any tears.
“It’s an Iron Goddess T-shirt. Don’t you have anything nicer?”
“We’re just going to Emperor Dragon. People wear jeans and T-shirts there all the time.”
“I know, but this is our first date night in weeks. I want it to be nice.” Jessica dug out a dress shirt from the back of Shea’s closet and handed it to her. “Try this.”
Shea pressed her forehead against Jessica’s as she took the shirt. “For you, I’d go naked. It’d kinda go with what you’re wearing.”
“Tempting, but I think the health department might object. And I plan on wearing a dress over this.” Jessica chuckled as she disappeared into their bathroom.
She brushed a layer of dust off the shoulders of the shirt. How long’s it been since I wore it? Her phone rang as she was buttoning it.
“Don’t answer that,” Jess said. “This is our night out. Whoever it is can wait.”
Shea glanced at the caller ID. It was Labrys. Has the Thunder retaliated already? Had a member of the Sisterhood been attacked?
Shea hurried into the living room and answered the call. “What’s up, Labrys?” she asked in a hushed tone.
“Be at Gertie’s at six o’clock. When you arrive, tell the bartender who you are. She’ll instruct you from there.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“The Sisterhood is having our weekly meeting.”
“That’s it? A club meeting? Now’s not really a good time. Jess and I have dinner reservations.”
“Havoc,” said Labrys in a stern voice. “You want to be a prospect?”
“Of course, but—”
“Then do what I say, when I say it. Period.”
Shea’s chest tightened as she caught a glimpse of Jess’ reflection in the bathroom mirror. “What am I supposed to tell Jessica?”
“She’s your girlfriend. You figure it out. Just be at Gertie’s at six.”
“Is this what being a prospect for the Sisterhood’s gonna be like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ordering me around, even if it screws up plans with my family.”
“We are your family. We need to know you’re committed to the cause, sister. So are you in or are you out?”
Jess was going to have a shit fit. But Shea didn’t have a lot of choice. She needed all the allies she could get at this point. Even if the Athenas weren’t as street smart as Shea wished they were.
“
I’ll be there. Just gimme a heads-up next time, all right?”
“See you there. Give my love to the missus.”
Shea felt like putting her fist through a wall. Or better yet, Labrys’ head. The bitch was enjoying this way too much.
Jess walked out of the bathroom. Her flowing scarlet dress was accented with a double-stranded gold and red coral necklace. She stood with arms crossed, the vision of a spurned goddess. “You answered it, didn’t you?”
Shea squirmed under her disapproving eye. “I gotta go take care of something. I’m sorry.”
“We’ve got a date. You bailed on our six-month anniversary. You are not skipping out now.”
“It’s Athena Sisterhood stuff. Labrys insists I be there.”
“Oh, Labrys insists?” said Jess with dripping sarcasm. “You’re ditching me to hang out with your ex? Again?”
“I think they’re voting me in as a prospect. I gotta be there.”
“You don’t have to be there for them to vote, do you? Let’s just go to dinner. They can call you and tell you whether you’re in or not.”
“Jess, it doesn’t work that way. I need to be there.”
“You need to be with me.”
“I know, I know. But I can’t be in two places at once.”
“Then you have to decide which is more important—me or your ex.”
“Stop making it about her. We need the help of the club to deal with the Thunder. Trust me, it will be like having an extended family, everyone having your back.”
Jessica stood silent for a moment. “No.”
“No? Jess, this ain’t up for debate. I have to do this. My freedom, maybe even our lives, depends on it.” Shea grabbed her motorcycle hoodie from the coat closet and slipped it on. As she turned to go, she saw Jessica’s face wet with tears.
“I really thought I mattered to you.”
Shea’s insides twisted. “You do.” She reached out to her, but Jessica pulled away.
“Just go.” Jessica turned and disappeared into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Shea wanted to follow and make everything all right. But so much depended on her joining the Sisterhood.
Chapter 25
The square in downtown Ironwood was lively with CAU students out for a good time. Not unusual for a Friday night. Shouting, laughter, the thumping beat of multiple music sources, and tempting aromas from the numerous restaurants filled the cold night air. Shea’s stomach rumbled, reinforcing her anger at Labrys for spoiling her dinner date.
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