Shelf Awareness: Green Valley Library Book #4

by Romance, Smartypants

  We hadn’t actually had the conversation about it. We’d sorta danced around it the night Alyssa had surprised him. But there had never been a definitive “we are dating” talk yet. For the most part, I was fine with that. The dust on my divorce hadn’t totally settled, so I wanted to take my time.

  Another place we were careful about our actions was at the library. While the other ladies knew we were good friends, we didn’t want to seem unprofessional by all of a sudden making out between the stacks. Sure, Zeke was there in a volunteer capacity, but I still had to consider my reputation.

  Of course, when we were alone, it was another story.

  Today I was working on a unit I was going to do with the elementary school on the effects of the local tribes on Tennessee history. It would be my first time working with the elementary school. I thought it was best I got my feet wet with the younger kids, so to speak, before I went to the middle and high schools.

  With my head buried in my laptop, I didn’t hear Zeke walk up. “Bart Jennings,” he proclaimed.

  I glanced up into his grinning face. “Excuse me?”

  He waved a piece of paper in front of me. “Bart Jennings is my father’s name. Drill came through.”

  “Seriously? That’s amazing.”

  “I know, right? I spent most of the morning tracking him down.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure being a tech geek helped a lot in that matter.”

  “As a matter of fact, it did.” With a wink, he added, “Of course, I do have my standards when it comes to hacking, so I refused to do any of that.”

  “One of the few truly honorable men left in the world,” I complimented.

  “Thank you.”

  “Is Bart still in Tennessee?”

  Zeke nodded. “Just an hour away in Campbell County.”

  “That’s great; he isn’t that far.”

  “Yeah, I already MapQuested the trip.”

  “Did you call him?”

  “I’m not going to.” At what must’ve been my confusion, Zeke replied, “I’m going to go see him in person.”

  Nibbling on my lip, I asked, “What happened to not barging in on a biker unaware?”

  “Yeah, I originally felt that way, but now that I actually know where he’s at, I just want to see him.”

  “Once again, I think it’s in your best interest for me to remind you this man was a member of the Wraiths who dabbled in illegal behavior.”

  Instead of appearing pissed at my recollection, Zeke’s expression was rather sheepish. “The truth is I couldn’t find a phone number with my quick search.”

  Yeah, that was so not good. “Call me paranoid, but for some reason, the fact he doesn’t have a phone is kind of suspicious.”

  “Trust me, I thought the same thing.”

  “Maybe we could go to the sheriff’s station and see if Jackson might be able to help,” I suggested.

  “The rational part in me says that would be the best thing to do, but I don’t think I can wait.”

  I blinked at him. “You’re planning on driving there right now, aren’t you?”

  “Look, I know it sounds crazy, Finley, but I have to do this. It’s like this overpowering need to set my eyes on him. I might not find a damn thing when I go there, but at least I will have tried.”

  Staring into his determined eyes, I knew there was no point in arguing any further with him. While I couldn’t talk him out of it, I could at least go with him. I rose out of my chair. “All right. Let’s go.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Let’s go to Campbell.”

  Zeke appeared taken aback. “You’re serious?”

  “Of course, I am.”

  “It’s the middle of the day, and you’re on the clock.”

  With a shrug, I countered, “So?”

  “But if you go now, you won’t get paid.”

  “I’m aware of that,” I replied, as I unlocked the desk drawer to grab my purse.

  “You’re seriously willing to give up your pay to come with me to hunt down my sperm donor? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to run away screaming from the potential Jerry Springer moment.”

  I laughed. “So, I lose a couple of bucks in my paycheck. It’s totally worth the sacrifice for the peace of mind I’ll have by going with you.”

  “How is what we’re about to do in any way granting you peace of mind?”

  “If I stay here, I won’t get a damn thing done for worrying about you. At least if I go, I’ll know how you’re doing emotionally . . . and physically.”

  Zeke laughed. “I guess that makes sense.” He cocked his head at me. “A lesser man might feel somewhat emasculated since you’re coming along to keep tabs on me physically.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure ones with fragile egos would do that, but you’re not them.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Good.”

  “So, we’re doing this?”

  Nodding emphatically, I replied, “We’re doing this.”

  With Zeke on my heels, I headed over to the circulation desk. “Hey, Thuy, I have to ask a favor.”

  After glancing between Zeke and me, Thuy said, “From the looks on your faces, I’m not sure I want to hear it.”

  “You know how Drill got the name of Zeke’s father?” At Thuy’s nod, I continued on. “He’s going to see him today, and I really feel I need to go with him. I realize it’s completely unprofessional to ask for the rest of the day off to do this, but I’m going ahead and doing it.”

  Thuy laughed. “I’m glad you can see the error of your ways.”

  “I thought you would appreciate honesty instead of me faking a headache or some other illness.”

  “Yes, this is much better.”

  “I’m fully aware I’ll be docked in pay, but as an olive branch, I’m prepared to volunteer my time on a Saturday.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” She smiled at Zeke. “Considering all you’ve given to the library, we owe you more than we can ever repay. I think letting Finley accompany you on such an important task isn’t asking too much.”

  Zeke returned her smile. “Thank you, Thuy. That means a lot.”

  Thuy’s expression suddenly darkened. “I do hope you’re going prepared to defend yourself if the need arises.”

  Her words sent a shiver down my spine. She wasn’t just advising us—she was speaking from personal experience. In that moment, I was starting to regret volunteering my time . . . and my safety.

  Zeke nodded. “I have a gun on me.”

  “You have a gun?” I demanded at the same time, Thuy said, “Good.”

  Tilting his head at me, Zeke said, “Why do you act so surprised?”

  “I don’t know. You seem way too much of a . . .”

  “Nerd?” he suggested.

  I scowled at him. “I was going to say pacifist.”

  With a chuckle, he replied, “Sure you were.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Regardless of what you were going to call me, yes, I have a pistol on me as we speak.”

  I sucked in a shocked breath. “Isn’t that illegal?”

  “Without a permit, yes, but I have one.”

  “Even for the state of Tennessee?”

  “As OCD as I am, do you really have to ask that question?”

  I grinned. “You’re right. Good for you.”

  “Do me a favor and call and check in when you guys start back,” Thuy said.

  Zeke nodded. “I sure will.”

  We said our goodbyes to Thuy and headed for Zeke’s rental car. After I buckled my seatbelt, I cut my eyes over to see Zeke staring at me with an impish grin on his face. “What?”

  “I’m just wondering how seriously freaked out you are at this moment.”

  “I’m fine,” I replied as I shifted in the seat.

  “Come on, Finley,” Zeke implored.

  “Okay, fine. I’m exceptionally freaked out at the moment. We’re going to meet your birth father who
not only was part of an MC club, but lives so far off the grid you couldn’t even locate a phone number for him.”

  “Maybe he can’t afford one.”

  “Or maybe he relies on burner phones to carry out seedy business deals.”

  Zeke chuckled. “I think you’re letting your imagination run away with you.”

  “Could be. Or it could be I’m just being cautious.” Turning in my seat, I eyed Zeke curiously. “What else came up in your search?”

  For a moment, it seemed Zeke was ignoring me to focus on the road. Finally, he glanced over at me. “There were a few misdemeanors that came up. He spent some time in a few county jails, but he hasn’t done any prison time.”

  “That’s encouraging.” And I meant it. After years of covering different cases and crimes for the AJC, I knew there was some comfort in the fact Bart hadn’t done hard time. I hoped that the misdemeanors he served jail-time for were maybe for marijuana possession.

  After taking two lane roads, we got on the interstate to make the rest of the hour drive to Campbell County. We were over halfway there when I glanced over to see Zeke tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. “Nervous?” I asked.

  “Extremely.”

  “Was it this bad when you met Ama?”

  Zeke shook his head. “I think it was easier with her because we had been emailing and talking on the phone. There’s also something different about sons and fathers.” Inhaling a ragged breath, Zeke said, “Although I tried playing it off earlier, I’m really fucking scared about what I’m going to find at Bart’s.”

  I reached over to place my hand on his arm. “It’s going to be okay.”

  When he cut his eyes over to me, he didn’t look too convinced. “I hope so.”

  “What matters most is at the end of the day, you’ll have closure.” I was going to say peace, but I thought otherwise. All the signs pointed to Zeke getting let down by his meeting with Bart.

  Once we reached Campbell, the anxiety in the car was palpable. After turning onto a street that led us into a seedier looking part of town, MapQuest told us we were reaching our destination. At the sign proclaiming Rolling Thunder, Zeke grunted. “A trailer park.”

  “What did you expect with number nine listed on the address?”

  “An apartment or condo.” Zeke shook his head. “Jesus, could this be more cliché?”

  Trying to lighten the mood, I replied, “Maybe if he comes to the door in a wife beater with a Marlboro hanging from his lips?”

  The corners of Zeke’s mouth quirked up. “Throw in a Confederate flag in the front yard and a pit bull.”

  “Maybe he’s traded the bike in for a truck and it has the naked woman flaps on it.”

  Zeke laughed. “That would be epic.”

  When we reached lot nine, I felt slightly disappointed there weren’t any of the things we imagined. There was a motorcycle though. Surprisingly, there was also a well-kept flower bed and birdbath outside. I wondered if it was Bart who had done the landscaping or maybe he had a wife who had a green thumb.

  Zeke turned off the car and then turned to look at me. “This is it.”

  “Yep. No going back now.”

  Taking my hand in his, Zeke squeezed it tight. “I’m really glad you came with me today, Finley.”

  “I’m glad I did too.” Inwardly, my anxiety hoped I hadn’t made a very dangerous mistake.

  We got out of the car and walked across the yard. After climbing up the steps, Zeke rapped his knuckles against the door. A few moments passed before I heard the fumbling of locks. The door flung open, and my heart sank. It appeared that age and what I assumed was extremely hard living had robbed the man in the photograph of his good looks. He was still tall and lean, but his craggy face was deeply lined.

  Even though it was pretty apparent in my mind it was Bart, Zeke must’ve been hoping otherwise. “Are you Bart Jennings?”

  “Depends.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If you’re peddling shit, trying to save souls, or a member of law enforcement, I ain’t Bart Jennings.”

  Zeke’s jaw clenched. “Lucky for us we’re none of those.”

  “Fine. Then what do you want?”

  Glancing between the two men, I said, “I’m Finley Granger, and this is Zeke Masters. Maybe we could come in for a moment?”

  “To case the joint?”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the insinuation. “No. It’s more like what needs to be said is of a delicate matter.”

  Bart grunted. “Fine. Come in.”

  After he swung the door open, I cut my eyes over to Zeke. He nodded before motioning for me to enter first. Unlike the manicured lawn outside, the inside of Bart’s trailer was in complete disarray.

  “You’ll have to excuse the mess. The cleaning lady’s been on vacation for years,” Bart said behind us.

  “I guess you’ve been spending your time on the pretty yard,” I replied.

  Bart scowled. “That wasn’t me. Some do-gooder in the park with too much time on their hands. I’ll be glad when it all dies out.” He motioned to the dilapidated couch. “Have a seat.”

  While Zeke and I settled, Bart collapsed down into a faded Lazy Boy recliner. “So, what is it you want?”

  Zeke leaned forward on the couch. “You were once a member of the Wraiths Motorcycle Club, right?”

  Bart’s nose wrinkled like he smelled sour milk. “A long fucking time ago.”

  “Do you remember going on a run to Cherokee, North Carolina in May of 1987?”

  “Hell, I can barely remember last week let alone thirty years ago.”

  “Maybe this photo will jog your memory.” Zeke dug out his wallet and then handed a photo to Bart.

  A grin stretched across Bart’s weathered face. “Holy shit.”

  “You remember her?”

  “I sure as hell do.” He held the photo out to us. “How could you forget a piece of ass as fine as that?”

  Zeke stiffened beside me. “That’s what you remember?” he gritted out.

  Wagging his eyebrows, Bart replied, “What’s better to remember than pussy?”

  Before Zeke could vault off the sofa and attack Bart, I placed my hand on his knee. “We were hoping you could remember something perhaps more G-rated,” I suggested.

  “Sorry, sugar, but I ain’t lived a G-rated life. The reason why I remember her was while I was wasting time in the Wraiths, I had my eyes on a better club. One you could really impress people with when you wore the cut. The Hells Angels.” Bart reached for his pack of cigarettes. Sliding one out, he said, “The Angels have this list where you earn points for banging different chicks. I got to mark off an Indian chick with her.”

  I pinched my eyes shut in agony for Zeke. How was it possible the epic piece of shit before me could have fathered Zeke? When it came to nature vs. nurture, Zeke was certainly the man he was because of Arthur Masters.

  After lighting his cigarette, Bart’s expression darkened. As he peered at Zeke, I could see the wheels turning in his head. “Why are you coming around here asking about me?”

  Zeke inhaled a ragged breath. “You’re my father.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Bart tossed the picture at Zeke. “I ain’t your fucking father.”

  “I’m pretty sure this picture and my mother’s story would say otherwise.”

  “Like I’m the only biker she ever spread her legs for.”

  “You watch your mouth,” Zeke snarled.

  With a shrug, Bart replied, “Truth hurts.”

  Sensing I once again needed to diffuse the situation, I said, “Mr. Jennings, Zeke came a long way to meet his birth mother and in turn his birth father.”

  Bart cocked a brow. “Birth mother? You were adopted?”

  “Yeah, I was.”

  “And what, you think you’ll come sniffing around for money.”

  Zeke rolled his eyes. “Trust me, that’s the last thing I’m here for.” Rising fro
m the couch, Zeke shook his head. “Like Finley said, I came out from Seattle to with the blessing of my parents to find my birth parents. I went to Cherokee first to speak with Ama. Although she didn’t remember much about you, she did have the picture, which showed you wearing your cut with the MC club you belonged to in Green Valley.” With a disgusted look at Bart, Zeke added, “I should’ve just been satisfied to meet her and stayed put in Green Valley.”

  “Don’t you act like you’re better than me, boy!” Bart shouted.

  “I don’t have to act. I know. You know how? Because I’ve never objectified women by scratching them off a fuck list. I never would’ve taken advantage of a young, impressionable girl.” Jabbing a finger at Bart, Zeke said, “She was barely seventeen, you sick fuck. You had to be what, at least twenty-five?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Whatever. She should have had your ass locked up for statutory rape.”

  Bart flicked his cigarette into the ashtray. “Age of consent is sixteen in North Carolina.”

  “Of course, you would know that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Hell yeah, I did. The club made sure we knew. We weren’t much fucking good to them in jail.”

  Zeke threw one last look of disgust at Bart before whirling around and throwing open the front door. At the sound of Zeke stomping down the porch steps, I hopped off the couch and fled the trailer without a goodbye to Bart. With Zeke stalking over to the car, I had to run to catch up to him. The minute I climbed inside the car, he threw it in reverse and squealed out of parking spot, kicking up a cloud of dirt and gravel.

  An agonizingly uncomfortable silence hung over the car. I desperately wanted to say something to comfort him, but at the moment, I found myself at a loss. Instead of turning onto the interstate ramp, Zeke wheeled into the gas station next to it. “I need a drink.”

  “The best you’re going to get around here is a beer.”

  “Why is that?”

  “They’re a dry county.”

  “Deliver me from the Bible Belt,” he grunted.

  “I know. There are still parts of the South in the dark ages.” With a tentative smile, I said, “There’s probably a good chance we could score some meth around here.”

  Zeke stared at me for a moment. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he busted out laughing. “After what transpired back there, I could go for some. What do you bet Daddy Dearest could have hooked us up with some?”