“So are we. Still, don’t you think the men responsible for hurting him should pay?”
“You mean go to jail?” she asked dryly. “Or pay with blood?”
I wanted to ask her why she even cared. She could have died that night. “Patty, if you won’t talk to him for me, at least do it for Raina and Billy. See if the two of you can come up with something,” I said, ignoring her snide comment.
“All he wants to do is talk?” she asked in a sulky way. “And he won’t…. hurt me?”
“He isn’t looking to hurt you, Patty. He just wants answers. He’s marrying Raina and wants to help her.”
She was silent for a few seconds and then sighed. “I guess I can talk to him. But, seriously, I don’t have anything more to tell him than what I told the cops.”
“Then just tell him the same thing. The point is, he knows the streets and knows what the other clubs are capable of. Something you may have told the cops might make more sense to him.”
“Fine. As long as he doesn’t threaten me.”
“He’s not going to threaten you,” I replied. “Tank just wants answers.”
She sucked in her breath. “Oh, crap… I think he’s actually calling back already. You owe me big time.”
I wanted to tell her that she was the one who owed my family something, but knew it would just start another argument. “Thanks Patty.”
Mumbling something, she hung up.
I set my phone down and looked over at the clock. It was almost three in the afternoon and the longer I waited, the more I felt it was a mistake just being there. Craving a cigarette, I pulled out the pack I had in my jacket pocket and debated on lighting it. Before I could, however, the door opened and two people walked into the room. The first one being the woman from the deli.
“Hi,” she said, pushing a piece of red hair behind her ear. “I have to say, I never thought I’d see you again. At least not this soon.”
Eleven
Terin
“I was in the neighborhood and figured you might need my statement,” he replied, his lip twitching. “And… you’re welcome.”
Cocky bastard.
I smirked. “Well, I do appreciate it. Thank you.”
“What about Chips? Did you catch him?” asked Cole.
“No. Unfortunately, he got away,” I replied, checking out the many tattoos he had on his muscular arms. He’d removed his jacket and was wearing a cut that identified him as a Gold Viper Prospect. “As did Gomer. Obviously.”
“At least you know who they are.” He looked at Walters. “I see you brought back up this time.”
Tearing my eyes away from his biceps, I introduced Walters.
“I think we’ve met,” said Cole, pulling out a small lighter from the front pocket of his jeans. “You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?”
“Unfortunately, there’s no smoking in this building,” said Walters. “And we did meet before. The night your nephew and Old Lady were shot.”
“Patty is not my Old Lady,” said Cole, shoving it back into his pocket, along with a pack of cigarettes.
“You two broke up?” asked Walters.
“Our relationship ended the night she brought Billy to a kegger and almost got him killed,” said Cole, frowning. “I guess I should blame myself for not kicking her out of my bed, after our first date.”
“Do you think the guilt should only rest on her shoulders?” asked Walters.
“If she hadn’t brought him there, he’d have never been shot,” he said. “It’s pretty obvious.”
“You’re not going to blame anything on yourself or your lifestyle?” asked Walters.
“What do you know of my ‘lifestyle’, Detective?” asked Cole.
I cleared my throat and jumped back into the conversation. “You belong to a pretty notorious club.”
Cole looked at me. Unlike when he addressed Walters, there was amusement in his eyes. “Notorious for what?”
“Hell-raising,” I replied, noticing the warning look that Walters was giving me.
“Hell-raising. Can you be more specific?” asked Cole, innocently.
“Come off it, Johnson. You know exactly what she’s talking about. But, that’s not why we’re here,” said Walters.
“That’s right. We’re here to talk about the Devil’s Rangers. Speaking of them, did you ever find out who the shooters were?” Cole asked.
“No,” said Walters, watching him carefully. “Have you?”
“Nope,” said Cole, a look of irritation flashed across his face. “Believe me, we’ve tried.”
“Speaking of club activity, you switched sides,” said Walters. “Why is that?”
“The Gold Vipers are a better fit for me,” said Cole, matter-of-factly.
“And your sister is marrying the president,” I said. “That would have caused a lot of tension at family gatherings.”
“Definitely,” said Cole, smiling slightly.
“So you did it for Raina?” asked Walters.
“I did it for myself,” he replied.
“Because..?” prodded Walters, waiting for a better response.
“Just like I stated, they’re a better fit. We’ve already established that I didn’t come down here to get grilled about my club. I dropped by to help Detective O’Brien here. Do you want my statement or not?” he asked.
“Yes. We do,” said Walters. “I’m going to get some coffee first. Would you like any, Mr. Johnson?”
“Yes I could use a cup,” replied Cole. “Thank you.”
“How do you like it?” he asked.
“Black is fine,” replied Cole.
“You want one, too?” Walters asked me.
“No. Thanks,” I replied.
Walters left us alone, which I’d known that he was going to do. He thought that Cole would feel more open to talking if it was just the two of us. Pen was on the other side of the wall, listening in.
“So, why did you take off?” I asked him.
“I don’t know. I guess I was hungry at the time and didn’t want to spend the rest of the day down here,” he said.
“But here you are anyway.”
“Yep. Here I am,” he replied, staring back at me.
“Well, like I said before… I do appreciate it.”
“I know.”
I grinned.
He smiled back. “So, how did you find yourself in that situation, anyway?”
“I was there to pick up lunch.”
“And they just grabbed you?”
I knew that I could discuss what had happened before he showed up. “Something like that.”
“There’s more to it,” he replied, studying me.
I just smiled.
“The place had been evacuated pretty quickly, it looked like to me. No customers. No staff.”
I nodded. I wanted to ask him why he was there, but wasn’t allowed to. His statement had to be given directly to Walters, since I was involved.
“Do you know why Pete took off with Ronnie?” he asked.
“No. I was going to ask you the same thing,” I replied.
He shrugged. “My guess is that he was collecting on some kind of debt. Maybe gambling.”
“So, Ronnie’s a bookie?”
“Ronnie is a lot of things,” he replied.
The door opened back up and Walters walked in carrying two cups of coffee. He set one down in front of Cole.
“Thanks,” said Cole.
“No problem,” said Walters, sitting back down. He opened up a file and pulled out the paperwork for Cole’s testimonial statement. “Before I forget, there’s something else we need to ask you.”
“What’s that?” said Cole.
“Why did your sister kill Slammer?” asked Walters, as Cole raised the cup to his lips.
Twelve
Cole
I choked on the coffee. “Sorry, what was that?” I asked hoarsely.
“We received a tip today from someone claiming that she killed him,” said Wal
ters. “A phone call.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said, knowing right away that Ronnie was behind it. “She’s marrying Tank, for one. For two, my sister isn’t a murderer.”
“Did the Devil’s Rangers put you two up to it? As an initiation into the club?” continued Walters.
“Definitely not,” I said, pissed off. “Look, you and I both know this is a load of shit. Because of what happened earlier today, they’re trying to pin that on me and my sister.”
“Do you own a green van?” asked Walters.
The van we’d used had been ‘borrowed’ and since returned to the auto-body shop I worked part-time for. It had been a customer’s and was back in his possession, now painted black and looking pristine. We’d actually done a complete overhaul on the vehicle. As far as I was concerned, there was no way it could be traced back to the murder, especially since I’d borrowed plates from another vehicle, earlier that morning. Even though I hadn’t really expected her to shoot Slammer, I knew her head hadn’t been in the right place and at the time, had been more worried about the Gold Vipers finding us then the cops.
“No,” I replied. “But, you already know that don’t you?”
“Yes. We do,” said Walters, studying my face.
“Did you trace the call that came in?” I asked.
“Yes. They used a payphone,” he replied. “From Merl’s Gas Station.”
Merl’s was one of the oldest stations in Jensen. I pictured Ronnie calling on the payphone, which was located across from the pumps.
“Have someone check the cameras,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll find Ronnie or one of the other members on video, making that call.”
They looked at each other and Walters nodded. “We will,” he replied. “No doubt about that.”
“Are we done talking about this shit?” I asked, tapping my fingers on the table in frustration. “Because… if I’d have known you were going to try and pin Slammer’s murder on myself or Raina, especially when I’m trying to help you guys, I’d have stayed home.”
“I understand you’re angry. Obviously, we had to ask,” said Walters.
“You call that ‘asking’?” I said, frowning. “You were basically accusing Raina. But that’s how you cops operate, isn’t it? Accuse and ask questions later?”
“We’re trying to find a murderer,” said Walters. “We do what’s necessary.”
“It seems to me like you should change your tactics. Accusing someone of murder, just because of an anonymous ‘tip’ is pretty ludicrous. Especially under the circumstances.”
“It may seem that way, but our ‘tactics’ have proven successful in the past. You wouldn’t believe the amount of criminals who want to confess, but aren’t asked the right questions,” said Walters. “Or hell, even asked at all.”
“I doubt that Slammer’s killer wants to confess, so you’d better work a lot harder than that to find out who he actually is,” I replied dryly.
“Who ‘she’ is,” said O’Brien.
“Right,” I answered. “Whomever.”
Walters looked at O’Brien. “Why don’t you follow up on the payphone thing? See if there are any cameras pointed toward the one at the gas station.”
“Will do,” she said, standing up. Terin looked at me. “Thanks again for your help. All of it.”
Still irritated, all I could do was nod.
She walked out of the room.
Walters handed me a form to fill out and a pen. “I’d like to second that. I’m pretty sure you saved her from being raped.”
“Knowing Chips, rape was only half of it,” I said. “Where do I start?”
He turned the sheet of paper over and explained how to fill it out.
“When I’m finished, am I allowed to leave?” I asked curtly.
“Of course.”
“Good, because my good deed of the day seems to be biting me in the ass,” I replied, picking up the pen.
“For the record, I didn’t want to accuse you of anything. It’s just a method we use to get a response. One we can try and read into.”
“And what did you read from mine?”
“That you love your sister.”
“Yes, but she isn’t a killer,” I said, not exactly lying. She may have murdered Slammer, but she’d not been herself. “Neither am I.”
“You will be if they patch you,” said Walters.
“Believe it or not, I’m with the Gold Vipers because they’re not murderers.”
“Son, do you really believe that?”
I wanted to tell him that if they were cold-blooded murderers, Raina wouldn’t be alive. Neither would I.
“I do. The Devil’s Rangers, on the other hand, they wouldn’t blink an eye if they had to kill someone. They should be the ones being questioned for murder, not me. Most belong in prison.”
“Is that why you’re here? To help clean up the streets?” replied Walters, smirking.
I’m here because I was ordered to be here.
“I’m here for many reasons, but honestly,” I pictured the scene from the deli and what might have happened if I hadn’t showed up. “I’m here to make sure Chips and Gomer gets what’s coming to them.”
“Jail time?”
I nodded and thought of Gomer, the skinny asshole who’d once bragged about slipping some sorority chick a Mickey, so he could fuck “the snobby bitch” without resistance. “That and some extra shower time. Those two are predators. They need to see what it feels like to be victims.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Thirteen
Terin
I called Merl’s station and found out from the owner’s wife that they did have cameras.
“Would you be able to see the payphone?” I asked the woman.
“A little. I have to tell you, our security system is pretty old, and so are the cameras. You’re welcome to take a look at the video footage though,” she said.
“Thanks. I’ll stop by later today,” I replied and then gave her my name again.
“Sounds good. Can I ask what you’re looking for?”
“We’re just trying to identify a caller. You didn’t happen to see anyone using the phone about an hour and a half ago?”
“If someone did, I didn’t notice. One of the cashiers called in sick today and we’ve been pretty busy. Ten people could have used the payphone and I probably wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Understandable,” I replied. “Well, thanks again. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”
“Sounds good.”
We hung up and I walked back to the Interrogation Room, just as Cole was on his way out. Behind him, still seated at the table, was Walters, talking on his cell phone.
“You’re finished already?” I asked, noticing that he was holding his motorcycle helmet and leather jacket.
“Afraid so,” he said, staring down at me. He stood about five inches taller than myself and with his height and muscular frame, Cole seemed to fill the doorway.
“Oh,” I answered, trying to hide my disappointment. For some reason he intrigued me and I wanted to ask him a few more questions about his club and why joining one was so important. Instead, I stepped to the side, so he could walk out of the room. As he strolled past me, I smelled motorcycle exhaust with a trace of cologne. I turned and watched him, admiring the way his jeans fit.
As if feeling my eyes on him, Cole suddenly stopped. “Did you have something else you wanted to say to me, Detective O’Brien?” he asked, turning to look at me again with those intense blue eyes.
Hot damn, but he was good looking…
It was enough to almost make me understand the appeal some women had to bad boys.
I really need to get laid, I thought.
“Uh, no. I guess not. Just… thank you again for helping me at the deli,” I replied, angry with myself for the way I was reacting to someone like him. “And then showing up here to give a statement.”
“Not a problem.”
Not even sure why,
I started walking down the hallway with him.
“Detective, you know… if you really want to thank me,” he said, in a low voice, “you could meet me for a drink. I think we could both use one after a day like today.”
A glass of wine sounded heavenly at that moment, but I pictured the two of us in a bar together and knew it was a bad idea. Not only would it be a conflict of interest, but the fact that I was attracted to him and we’d be drinking alcohol, might lead to trouble. “A drink?”
“Yeah. Just a beer. Or, would that be too much of a crime?” he asked with a devilish grin. “Sharing a drink with someone like me?”
“Honestly, I’d like to but I can’t,” I admitted, realizing that I was now walking with him out of the building.
“Against the rules?” he asked as we headed toward his motorcycle.
“Yes.”
“Damn,” he said, giving me another killer smile, one that sent a warm, pleasurable rush to my stomach. “Well, should we ever end up at the same bar, one night, and I do buy you a drink, you won’t handcuff me, will you?”
I laughed. “No.”
“Not that I’d mind. Hell, I’m even be open to a frisk.”
“Are you flirting with me?” I asked with a wry smile as we stopped next to his bike.
“No. I’m just trying to make your job easier and if frisking does it, then I’m certainly willing to help out.”
“How old are you?” I asked. I’d read that his sister was my age, which meant he was younger than me.
“I’ll be twenty-four next month. I’m surprised you didn’t check that,” he replied.
He was two years younger. I had to admit, though, he acted more mature than some of the guys I worked with. Most of them were in their thirties and forties. “You’re just a kid.”
He laughed. “A kid, huh?” He studied my face. “You don’t look much older than eighteen yourself, which I know you couldn’t be. How old are you, if I may ask?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You’re kind of young for a detective, aren’t you?”
Loving The Biker (MC Biker Romance) Page 7