by Tess Oliver
Rain Shadow
Book 3 of 5
The Barringer Brothers Series
Tess Oliver
Rain Shadow Book 3
Copyright© 2014 by Tess Oliver
Cover Design by: Avanti Graphics
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Tess Oliver
Chapter 1
Angel
Four hours into a long, hot trek down the highway, freedom was no longer such a grand notion. My elation at being alone outside of the compound walls had shriveled to a mere flicker of optimism. But as tired and hungry as I was, I was still glad to be free of Dreygon Sharpe’s control. After what he’d done, I could no longer think of the man as my grandfather. He was a stranger to me now.
I’d spent the first four hours of the journey ducking out of sight from the handful of cars and motorcycles that whizzed past. But now I was willing to take a chance. I’d been so sheltered from the outside world all my life that I’d grown up with the fear that the second I stepped out alone, I would be whisked away by a rival club. That hadn’t happened. It seemed impossible to think that I was such a sought after target, and I was beginning to wonder if Dreygon had other, more nefarious, reasons for keeping me away from people. Of course, the more likely explanation was that he’d been crazy and delusional all along, and I’d been too young to see it.
Ribbons of heat rose off the hot asphalt, and my feet burned in my boots. A motor rumbled behind me, and I glanced back up the road. It was an eighteen wheeler. I stuck out my thumb deciding the odds were against the driver being a homicidal maniac. There just weren’t that many crazy murderers milling about. With the exception of those at the Bedlam compound where they seemed to thrive and multiply. Even though I’d had few experiences outside the compound, I wasn’t naive. The club’s sordid lifestyle had seen to that. I knew every dark corner of the human world. . . unfortunately. And Dreygon’s last heinous act had assured me that it was a black world indeed.
I couldn’t see the driver as the truck rolled past. The blue semi released a diesel smelling truck burp and pulled to the side of the road. Once again I convinced myself that the odds were slim that driver was a murderer or a pervert. He could just as easily be a decent guy out making his living on the highway. I was hot and tired and a ride seemed like my only hope. I had to take a chance.
I hopped up on the step and opened the passenger door. A flowery fragrance and the heavy bass sounds of classical music flowed out of the cab. Two small poodle faces, one black and one white, peered over the edge of the seat. One dog was wearing a tiny bandana around its neck.
“What on earth are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, Sweetie? No matter. That’s your business. Hop in.” The driver had on a camouflage cap that said ‘Poodle Mama’ across the crown. Her curly white blonde hair, which matched her dog’s coiffure, stuck out in pale clouds from beneath the hat. The lines around her eyes gave her a gentle, friendly character. “Tiger, Bear get in the back.” The two dogs sat in defiance.
“I’m happy to have them in my lap,” I suggested.
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. As long as they don’t mind.”
“Mind? Are you kidding? Those two are lap magnets.”
I pushed my bag up onto the floor and climbed into the seat. The poodles went right to work making themselves cozy on my lap. It felt wonderful to be off my feet and have dog fur beneath my palm. “Which one is Tiger?”
“Tiger is the white one, and I call the other one Bear. But I’ve got so many nicknames for both of them it’s amazing that they ever answer to their real names.”
She turned down the classical music. “Excuse the clamor. Chopin relaxes me on the road. I used to teach piano until my husband and I split up. Then I had a choice to keep the house or take his truck. I figured I couldn’t make a living with a house, so I took the truck. Shocked the hell out of him, I can tell you that.”
I shut the door. It was much cooler inside than out.
“I’m Maggie but out here they call me ‘Poodle Mama’.” She pointed to her hat with a long hot pink fingernail in case I’d missed the name tag. She stuck out her hand and I shook it.
“I’m Evangeline.” My real name had come out so quickly I hadn’t even thought to make a fake one. I was going to have to get more savvy.
“That’s a pretty name. Don’t hear that one much, but it fits you.” She reached behind the seat to an ice chest. “I’ll bet you’re thirsty.” She handed me a water bottle.
“Thanks so much. I finished mine a few miles back.”
“From the sunburn on your cheeks, I’d say you’ve been out there for awhile. You running away from something or toward something?” She waved her hand. “There I go again being a nosy posey. You don’t have to tell me, but where are you heading to?”
I thought about the simple question. There was no answer.
Maggie seemed to understand my silence. “That’s all right, Sweetie. I can get you as far as Virginia City.” She inclined her head toward the dogs. “The boys and I are heading home. We’ve been on the road for three weeks, and I can’t wait to take a big ole bubble bath.” Both dogs lifted their heads at the word bath. “Don’t get yourselves in a poodle panic. I meant me, not you.” She glanced in her side view mirror and pulled out onto the highway. “I’ll bet you were glad to see me when you opened the door.”
I smiled. “I confess there were a few scary scenarios running through my head as you pulled over.”
“Of course, that doesn’t mean that a woman can’t be a murderer. Although I can’t think of any famous ones at the moment, can you? I mean I’ve definitely drummed up a few colorful scenarios for killing my ex, but they were just daydreams.” She had the kind of laugh that could warm a cold room. “Really fun daydreams. From simple ones like arsenic in his coffee to more elaborate and colorful ones where I use my imagined telepathic powers to make his head explode. That was always one of my favorites. Our marriage never had a chance. He’d be on the road half the year, and I’d stay at home hoping that I would miss a period.” She shook her head. “I wanted a baby so badly, but it never happened. In the meantime, while I sat at home peeing on a stick, he was out having three babies with another woman across the country. Yep, men, you got to love ‘em. They rarely stray from being a disappointment.” She glanced over at me. “You look like you’ve had some heartbreak yourself.”
I stared out the window. What I felt was so far past heartbreak it had become too hard to comprehend. I had to shut it from my mind just as Luke had done with Dex’s death. It was too hard to think that the man, who I know was meant for me, was gone for good. There would never be anyone else but Luke.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up that painful stuff. Forget I asked.”
“It’s still too fresh to talk about.” In the
past few days, I’d realized how much easier it would have been to just have Luke walk out of my life. At least he would be alive. I’d chided myself over and over again for not figuring out a way for him to leave. I should have let him go without me. It would have made his escape that much easier and less dangerous. The sleeping pills had worked beautifully, and the plan had been so simple. But, I didn’t want Luke to leave me, and my selfishness had cost him his life. At the same time, I’d underestimated the depths of Dreygon’s evil, and I’d had no idea that the secret Luke kept was so damning. Stupidly, I’d been convinced Dreygon would trust Luke enough to eventually let him take me out of the compound on a motorcycle. I’d had no idea how it would all play out.
Maggie reached forward and turned on a country music station. “Oh, I’ve thought of one.”
I looked over at her.
“A famous woman murderer—” she tapped her long nails on the steering wheel, “but I can’t think of her name. Forty whacks or something like that.”
“Lizzie Borden?” I asked.
“Yep, that’s her. Have you ever seen those old pictures of her parents. There wasn’t much left of ‘em once ole Lizzie got through with them.”
“I think she was acquitted.”
“Is that right?” she asked with a laugh. “Maybe that’s why there aren’t that many famous female killers. We’re too clever to get caught.”
Tiger looked longingly at the water as I drank it. I poured a bit into my palm, and he lapped it up.
Maggie rolled her eyes. “That dog is just using you. He’s got his own set of dishes behind the seat.”
I glanced back between the bucket seats. The back of the cab was lined with a plush looking couch that was upholstered in rich blue velvet and satin pillows. “Yep, that’s my bedroom away from home. Figure just ’cause I’m a trucker doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy some luxury.”
“Exactly. It looks comfortable.”
“If you get tired you can stretch out back there. Got a bit of road to cover still, and I’m afraid the scenery doesn’t change too much. Are you from around here?”
“I am.” She’d been kind enough to stop and pick me up. She deserved some explanation. “It was time to break free from my family. I just need to find my way first. I’m afraid I left rather suddenly, and I’m not completely sure what I’ll do yet.”
“What are you good at?”
I thought about my limited span of talents. “I know a lot about first aid. My dream has always been to be a doctor.” I thought back to the blissful days of taking care of Luke, and my throat tightened. I took another sip of water to relieve it. “I can cook a bit. And I know how to take care of horses. Not a very impressive list, I’m afraid.”
“Hey, I can play piano and drive a truck. How’s that for a strange list of talents.”
“Don’t forget your peeing on a stick skill.”
“Actually, I wasn’t too good at that. It’s hard to take aim on those damn things.” We laughed, and the dogs lifted their heads to see what the ruckus was about and then dropped them back down.
I wondered how the dogs were doing without me. I hoped that Jericho would take them in at night.
“A smart, confident girl like you will find something easily,” Maggie said.
I’d always considered myself to be independent and surefooted, but the past week, with losing Gracie and then Luke, had swept my legs out from beneath me. I felt as if I was floundering in a raging ocean trying to keep from being sucked under by it all. I wasn’t completely sure I had the strength to get past this.
My head ached from the long walk. “You know, Maggie, I think I will stretch out back there if you don’t mind.”
“Good idea, Honey.” There was a sympathetic look in her face that could only be mastered by a mom. Maggie would have made a great one. “And don’t you worry, heartache doesn’t last forever. Time heals everything.”
I hadn’t said much about my past, but all of it must have shown plain on my face. I climbed between the seats and plopped onto the velvet cushions that were more like a small couch than a bed. It was comfortable. The poodles joined me. It made me homesick for my dogs. I had just closed my eyes when Maggie smacked the steering wheel.
“Now, why didn’t I think of that before? Whooee, sometimes my mind is as loose as a rapper’s pants.”
“What didn’t you think of?”
“My ex-brother-in-law owns a sports bar north of Carson City. It’s not terribly hip. In fact, it falls closer to a small town saloon than a sports bar. But he’s been looking for a cocktail waitress. He draws in a pretty big crowd on account that it’s the only place for miles.” She looked up in her rearview. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“That’s old enough. Ever wait tables in a bar?”
“Nope, but I’ve carried plenty of beers to my grandfather and his friends.”
She laughed. “I think you’d do just fine there. If you’re interested I can put in a good word for you. There is a motel down the road from the bar. It’s crummy as hell, but they’ll let you rent by the month if you need a place to stay.”
“Maggie, you are awesome. But I think I need to set my sights on something farther from home.” I had exactly two hundred dollars to my name, and it wouldn’t last long. But I needed to put more distance between me and Dreygon. “I was kind of thinking of heading to California. There might be more jobs there.”
“Well then, I’ll drop you off near the motel. There’s a bus that comes through the town once a day that travels into Fresno. You might find work there. Or you might think about Lake Tahoe. A pretty girl like you might find work in one of the casinos.”
“Sounds good.” My enthusiasm for this whole adventure was waning quickly, and a feeling of hopelessness sank in and settled in a way that seemed like it had no intention of leaving soon.
Chapter 2
Luke
My fist hit the wall and an explosion of pain shot through my arm. “Shit.” I gritted my teeth. “Are there fucking bricks in there?”
“Probably.” Carson looked at the dent I’d put in the surface. “It’s a federal building. What were you expecting, Venetian plaster?”
“Drywall and air,” I said, “like a normal wall.” I rubbed my knuckles. Surprisingly none of them were broken.
“This is exactly why I’m not going to let you in there with Belkin. If you beat the shit out of our suspect then he’ll walk and we’ll be charged with brutality. Besides, we’ve kept your return under wraps so that the papers don’t write about it. You need to get that informant out of the club first. If Belkin sees you, it won’t be long before Dreygon discovers that the man he ordered to kill you, let you go.”
I walked to the window. Belkin couldn’t see out, but I could see the fucking weasel sitting slack and bored on the metal chair, his Halloweenish tattoo stretched along the top of his cuffed hand.
“Then I’ve got an easy solution. Just let me in there and I’ll kill him. Then he can’t walk or talk.”
Carson put a hand on my shoulder. “Luke, I know this is hard, but you have to trust that the system will work. That idiot in there, who doesn’t even have the sense to look worried, has bought himself a ticket to life in prison. With your eyewitness testimony, he doesn’t have a chance. And once we find the other three, they’ll follow right behind. I’ve already got tails on some of the key Bent for Hell members. We’re going to follow that club around and make their lives a living hell until they cough up those three other members. They aren’t going to be able to take a shit without one of our agents breathing down their necks.” He walked toward the door. “Now get some ice for that hand and go home. Take advantage of your week off. And I’m sorry about the debriefing, but you know how it is. We needed to get it all down.”
I followed him out, but took one last glance at Belkin. I almost would have preferred to see him walk so that I could hunt him down myself. The debriefing had started out routine enough. I’d gone into o
fficial sounding robot mode to recite the chain of events but then we got to the hard part. And by the time I was through, my skin was covered in sweat, I could barely take a breath and Cyndi, the clerk who took the notes, was bawling. It felt as if I’d had my guts ripped from my body and turned inside out.
I walked to the lounge refrigerator and took out a handful of ice. I wrapped it in a kitchen towel. My knuckles were numb but I’d live. I reached into my pocket with my good hand and pulled out the number Carson had given me for Detective Scoffield in Reno.
Dex’s desk remained the usual clutter of paperwork and food wrappers, but there was a vase of white flowers plopped in the center. No one in the office had had the stomach to move anything on it yet, and so it remained as a monument of sorts to the type of guy he was, carefree and not hung up on what people thought of him.
Most of my coworkers were out on rounds or in afternoon meetings. I walked to my desk. It, too, looked as if it had been frozen in time. I hadn’t drained my last cup of coffee before Dex and I had left on our fateful sting operation. The water had evaporated, and only a sticky black residue remained. I sat in the chair. It immediately felt familiar. I picked up the phone and dialed.
“Detective Scoffield, who am I speaking with?”
“Hello, Detective Scoffield, this is Special Agent Luke Barringer of the DEA office in Reno. I have a message from Cash, a member of the Bedlam MC. He says he’s ready to talk.”
He paused. “How did you come across this information?”
“Don’t know if your department got word about the missing DEA agents or not, but I’m one of them. We’re keeping it quiet until Cash is safe. For the past month I was inside Dreygon Sharpe’s compound. The Bent for Hell club had left me outside the compound to die but . . .” My mind went to Angel as it did a million times a day. “As you can hear, I lived. Cash was ordered to kill me, but he allowed me to escape. As I left, he asked me to get the message to you. Do you have a way of getting hold of him?”