Five Mountain Daddies

by B. B. Hamel

  After about an hour of swapping stories, Mitch is looking a little drunk. He’s on beer number three and showing no sign of stopping, which is fine by me, I’m not judgmental. But I do need to know what I came here to find out, so I can’t wait anymore, in case he gets too wasted.

  “Listen, Mitch,” I say to him, just after finishing one of my own good stories, the one about the priest and the rotten fish in his car. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  “What’s up?” he asks, wiping his eyes from laughing so hard.

  “I’ve been hanging around town now, and something’s bugging me. You all talk about that gang, the Niners, but you guys never say much about them. What’s the deal there?”

  He sighs a little. “Who fucking knows, man. Whenever we make an arrest, ten guys step in to replace the cockroach.”

  “But what are they even doing here?” I ask him. “I mean, Mason is pretty small.”

  “That’s what we were wondering. Turns out, there’s a ton of addicts in Mason and the surrounding counties. The forest reserve down south is huge, and apparently they camp out there in little mobile meth labs.”

  “No shit?” I ask him.

  “Sure,” he says. “We try and stamp them out, but you know how big that place is.”

  He’s not kidding. The nature reserve is absolutely massive, the biggest in the state.

  “But they’re not violent?”

  He makes a face. “Well…”

  I sigh. “Well?”

  “They are. I may have mislead you a little bit before.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

  “You’re a damn outside cop poking around our shit. A fucking homicide cop, no less. I didn’t trust you.”

  I nod, not surprised. Cops protect their own, and if someone might threaten the reputation of the station, they’ll do what they have to do to stop it.

  “I’m not here to fuck with your shit, Mitch,” I say.

  “I get it. I know you’re poking around the Lewis murder, and shit, nobody cares. If you wanna work it, then work it. We won’t stop you.”

  I nod, feeling genuinely grateful. “Thanks, man.”

  “Sure. Just, we make the arrest.”

  “Of course,” I say. “Honestly, I don’t care about that.”

  “Then I’m an open book.” He grins at me. “What do you want to know?”

  “Jaxson Moyer,” I say to him.

  He grins at me. “Jaxson, huh?”

  “What do you know about him?”

  He sighs. “First, you remember him from school?”

  “Sure.”

  “He was a loser even back then.” Mitch takes a long drink. “The guy thinks he’s a real badass. You know the type. Talks a lot, has some minor arrests, but he’s a nobody.”

  “Minor arrests?” I ask.

  “Sure. I got him for a drunk and disorderly once. He’s got possession, burglary once, a few other shit charges. Did some minor time, a few months, I think. He’s practically a regular at the precinct.”

  I frown at him, thinking. “So he’s minor in the Niners?”

  “Very,” Mitch confirms.

  “Tell me more about their operations.”

  He launches into a detailed rundown, but after a couple minutes I start to tune him out. I quickly realize that it’s not relevant to our case, but what he said about Jaxson keeps coming back to me.

  He’s a nobody. I got the sense that he was important that night he threatened us, but it turns out that was just a lie. So Jaxson’s the kind of guy to inflate his own importance, make himself look tougher. He probably thinks his minor arrests are fucking cool or some shit.

  I just don’t see the connections yet. Atticus dies in a drug deal, Jaxson’s pissed we’re investigating, he’s involved somehow, but he’s just a minor guy in this gang. He’s got an ego, that’s for sure. He and Atticus used to know each other, but I don’t know how close they were before the murder.

  I have another beer with Mitch and I leave not long later, still full of questions, but I don’t think he has my answers. There are only a couple of people that know the truth, and I doubt they’ll just come out and tell me at this point. I burned my bridges with Kristi, and Jaxson’s going to get more and more aggressive as this thing drags out.

  I’m frustrated. I can’t see it, can’t see how it all lines up. Normally I can figure out a murder like a jigsaw puzzle, all the little pieces falling into place, but this one is still all jumbled. Maybe it’s because I’m too close to be objective, I just don’t know.

  Sleeping with Cora was definitely a mistake, but it was the kind of mistake I want to make again. I want to keep on making it, over and over, and I know that’s going to cloud my judgment. Still, I can’t help myself. I want everything, and I’m going to take it, sooner or later.

  17

  Cora

  I’m just about to eat dinner when there’s a knock at my door.

  It makes me jump. I’m not expecting anyone, and fear spikes through me. Normally I wouldn’t react like this, but now I’m on edge. I know people are watching me, calling my cell phone, coming around my house, going through my trash. They want to hurt me, get me to back off. And I don’t know if they’re above coming into my home like this and making me bleed.

  I pick up my phone and have Wyatt’s number ready to dial. I walk over to the front window and peek out, trying to see who’s parked out front… and instantly I relax.

  I go over to the door and pull it open. My mom glowers at me as she steps inside, not waiting to be invited.

  “What took you so long?” she grumbles at me. “You got any wine?”

  I smile to myself. “There’s an open bottle—” I start, but she’s already heading over to it. She pours herself a nice, healthy glass, and turns to me.

  “What’s up?” I ask her.

  She stares at me and drinks down half the wine. “Guess what happened to me today.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Marcie said something again about your back yard?”

  Mom rolls her eyes. “Fuck Marcie. And fuck my back yard. Honey, what are you involved with?”

  I stare at her, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

  “I got a phone call,” she says, “from a very unhappy man that claims you’re poking around where you shouldn’t. What are you doing, Cora?”

  “Who was it?” I press her.

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Didn’t sound happy, though.”

  “Did he threaten you?”

  She hesitates then nods. “What are you doing, Cora?”

  I sigh and sit down at my table. Mom joins me, glass clutched in her hand. “We’re investigating,” I say.

  “Atticus?”

  I nod. “Wyatt and I.”

  She groans. “Now I understand.”

  “They want us to stop because they’re hiding something. You know that, right?”

  “Of course they are,” she snaps. “But these people are killers, honey.”

  “Exactly,” I say. “That’s why we have to catch them.”

  “We don’t have to do anything. That’s what the police are for.”

  I roll my eyes. “They’re not going to do anything and you know it.”

  She chews her lip. This is new, this whole police thing. Before she was complaining that they don’t care about her dead son, and now she wants them to take over. Suddenly she trusts the police.

  Well, I don’t trust them, not at all.

  “What did they say to you?” I ask her softly.

  She sips her wine and looks away. “It’s not important.”

  “Mom,” I say.

  “They said I’d end up like Atticus, but they’d rape me first.”

  I stare at her, surprised. “Jesus.”

  “They said if you don’t stop what you’re doing, I’m going to be next.” She sighs. “Oh, honey. Why did you have to do this?”

  I grimace a little bit. She’s clearly afraid, but I didn’t think she�
�d be this afraid. I thought she wanted to solve Atticus’s killing, and that she’d be willing to do anything to get it done.

  “Someone had to,” I say, standing up. I walk over and pour myself some wine.

  “But why you?” She turns toward me. “We can just let the police do their job.”

  “They’re not doing their job,” I snap at her. “You know that.”

  She looks surprised. “I know what I said before. But I never thought…”

  “Never thought I’d actually do something?”

  “Yes,” she admits. “You and that boy.”

  “Me and Wyatt. Mom, you knew we were doing this, or are you too drunk to remember?”

  I see the anger flare up, like it does every time I call her out for drinking too much. “Don’t talk to your mother that way.”

  “Don’t make me have to.”

  She glares at me in silence for a minute. I sip my wine, equally angry.

  But all at once, my anger goes away. I realize that she’s not a scared woman, in over her head. She’s the same as me, except I’m going forward, and she’s ready to give up. But she’s been through so much, and she didn’t ask for any of this.

  “Look mom,” I say, sitting back down. “Why don’t you stay with me? At least until this is all over?”

  She shakes her head. “No, thank you. I don’t want to be a burden.” Her words are meant to hurt me, but I don’t let them dig down deep.

  “Come on. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m perfectly fine.” She finishes her glass of wine in record time. “I just want you to know what you’re doing.”

  “I know,” I say softly.

  “There are consequences. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” I can hear her unspoken words: and I don’t want to end up dead.

  “I won’t,” I say to her.

  “You always were stubborn,” she says softly, standing.

  “Mom, please don’t go. At least stay tonight.”

  She shakes her head. “No. I’m going home.”

  “If anything happens, call me,” I say to her. “Seriously.”

  “I’ll be calling the police, thank you very much.” She walks to my door. “Just… be careful.”

  “I will.”

  I watch as she leaves. I head to my front window and catch a glimpse of her lighting a cigarette in her car. She drives off and I’m left standing there, feeling shell-shocked and angry.

  The bastards are going after my mother. That’s a step too far. They can threaten me, come after me, but my family’s off limits. That’s the kind of people I’m dealing with here. They’re monsters and they have no limits, none at all. They’ll go to any lengths to stop this investigation, because they know I’m going to discover their secrets.

  I sigh and shake my head. What the hell am I thinking? I’m not the one doing anything, it’s all Wyatt. I’m just tagging along, trying not to get in the way, and trying not to get hurt. My poor mother didn’t ask for any of this. She never wanted to get involved, that was my choice.

  Without thinking, I grab my things and head outside. I get into my car and start driving, not really sure where I’m going, except I end up exactly where I knew I’d end up.

  It’s getting late. It’s almost nine, and I know I should go home. I should just turn around and pretend like this never happened, or maybe go to my mother’s house and make sure she’s not drinking herself to death.

  Instead, I get out of the car and head up toward his room.

  18

  Wyatt

  When I get back from the bar with Mitch, I find Cora leaning up against the railing outside my motel door.

  She looks up as I approach, but doesn’t say anything. Wordlessly, I let her into my room, and I shut the door behind her.

  She walks over to the bed and sits down at the end. “My mom got a call,” she says.

  I stop in my tracks. “Same guy that called you?”

  She shrugs. “I didn’t hear the voice, but I think so.”

  “Same threat?”

  “Similar.”

  “Shit.” I lean up against the desk, crossing my arms. I didn’t expect it to escalate this quickly.

  “What do we do?”

  “Nothing,” I say. “Although it might be good if your mom could go stay someplace safe.”

  “I asked her to stay with me,” she says. “But she refused.”

  I nod, not surprised. “Your place isn’t much safer, anyway.”

  She looks away, frowning. “I guess not.”

  I sigh and walk over to her. I stop in front of her and tip her chin toward me. “It’ll be okay,” I say softly.

  She looks up at me, gorgeous eyes defiant. “How can you know?”

  “I just know. I’ve done this before, remember?”

  “Do you usually get threats like this?”

  “No,” I admit. “Not at all. This is unique to Mason.”

  “Of course it is.” She sighs and I let go of her chin. I sit down next to her, our sides touching, and she turns to me. “Do you think you could, I don’t know, get a protective detail for my mom?”

  I frown. “That’s expensive.”

  “The police might do it?”

  “I doubt it,” I admit. “They’d have to pay someone to sit outside your mom’s trailer, that’ll cost them overtime for sure… I just can’t see it happening.”

  She sighs, looking away. “I got her into this.”

  “We got her into this,” I correct. “You’re not alone.” She nods but doesn’t say anything. “We can keep an eye on her, make sure she’s safe.”

  “How? We can barely keep ourselves safe.”

  I sigh. She has a good point there. This mom thing, it’s fucking complicated.

  “I’ll figure it out,” I tell her.

  She turns and looks at me, and I can see it in her eyes: fear, but also something more. That something more, it’s the real reason she’s here.

  I reach for her, tip her chin closer, and kiss her softly. She reacts instantly to my kiss, melting into it, turning her body toward me. She reacts with intense hunger, almost surprising me, but my body reacts in turn.

  She presses me back and straddles my hips. She leans over me, kissing me deep, and I put my hands on her firm ass. I love her taste and my heart starts hammering, and I know this is what I’ve been thinking about since the last time I tasted her.

  She sits up and pulls her shirt off. I cup her breasts as she kisses me again, lips lingering.

  I feel my desire grow, deep inside of me. I can’t contain it. I grab her hips and roll her over, pinning her down to the bed.

  She gasps as I kiss her next. “This is why you came here tonight, isn’t it?” I ask her softly. “You could have called. But you didn’t.”

  “No,” she says. “I didn’t call.”

  I bite her lower lip and she gasps. I pin her hands up above her head. “You wanted to come and get fucked, didn’t you?”

  “Wyatt,” she says, eyes wide.

  I growl and bite her lip again, kissing her deep and slow. I tease her nipples with my tongue and teeth before releasing one of her wrists. I slide my hand down her skin before unbuttoning her jeans.

  “Say it’s what you want,” I whisper in her ear, my hand slowly sliding down her panties. “Say the words.”

  She groans and moves her hips, but I don’t give her what she wants. I cup her pussy but don’t move.

  “Say it,” I repeat.

  “Wyatt,” she moans. “Please.”

  “You’re so fucking sexy when you beg,” I say. “Desperate for my fucking cock. But you have to say what I want to hear.”

  “It’s why I came,” she admits, and I plunge my fingers inside of her.

  She groans, tossing her head back. I slide my fingers inside, deep into her soaking, tight pussy. She was ready for this, dripping and desperate, probably has been since she pulled up here. I bet she didn’t even know what she was doing until right now. Tha
t just makes me fucking harder.

  I slide my fingers in and out, making her moan, swallowing her moans in my mouth as I kiss her deep and hard. I tease her chest again, biting her nipple, making her groan as I press my fingers in deep at the same moment. She squirms, pushing back against me, but I press deeper.

  Just as her movements get more intense, I pull back and get off the bed. I kneel down in front of her, pulling her jeans down off her body. I push her panties aside and kiss up along her thighs until I find that delicious little pussy.

  She looks down at me as I suck her clit. She grabs my hair, lacing her fingers and pulling. I like that she’s being rough, so I press my tongue inside that cunt, suck and lick her good. She groans and I grab her hips, feeling her ass. I shove her back down onto the bed, pushing two fingers deep inside her pussy while I lick and suck her clit.

  Her moans get louder, filling the room, and I know I can’t hold back anymore. I have to fuck her tight little pussy, stretch her out, break her in two. She groans against me and I love it. I fuck her roughly with my fingers and push her down against the bed, pinning her there.

  “You’re all mine now, aren’t you?” I ask her. “Every inch of this little cunt is mine to do whatever I want with. God, you’re so fucking wet, you can’t even pretend it’s not true.”

  “Asshole,” she says, but there’s a smile on her lips.

  “That’s a good idea,” I say. I pull my fingers from her pussy and slide them down to tease her ass. “Just like this?”

  She gasps as I press my finger inside of her ass. “You dick,” she says as I bend down and lick her clit again, fucking her ass with my finger.

  She groans, clearly loving it. I knew she would. She’s fucking filthy, and she’s going to do anything I want her to do.

  I suck and lick her clit like that, fucking her ass until I can’t stop myself. I pull back and stand, ripping my shirt up over my head, getting my jeans off in a hurry. She slides off the bed, kneeling in front of me, and she helps me get my boxer briefs off before taking my big cock between her hands.

  “Look at you,” she says, smiling up at me. “I think you’re the one that wants this.”