by Cheree Alsop
Uncle Rick smiled. “See? There’s hope for you yet.” He chuckled as he left the room.
“I’ve got to run to town,” I told Mom. “But I’ll be back for the groundbreaking.”
“You better,” she replied. At my curious look, she continued, “I have it on good authority that you might be learning how to drive a backhoe yourself.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” I protested. “I can’t even manage the ton truck. Can you imagine what our house would look like if I helped build it? It’d be crooked, sideways, and would probably fall over if the wind blows.”
She smiled. “The wind blows out here all the time. I guess we’ll learn how to sleep sideways.”
I rolled my eyes as she left the room with an armful of my clothes and a pleased smile on her face.
MAGNUM MET ME IN front of the charred remains of his house. “I heard about the fire at the library,” he said as soon as I turned off the motorcycle. “You okay?”
I shoved my visor up. “Yeah. Can’t say the same for one of the copycats.”
Magnum glanced at me. “One died?” His expression confirmed my suspicions.
“You know some of the old Bullet members are running with the copycats,” I stated.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the wreckage that was his house. “I suspected it. I was hoping I was wrong.”
I sighed. “Could you have told me? It might have helped out last night.”
Magnum looked over at the bitterness in my voice. “What happened?”
I gritted my teeth, speaking past the loss I felt. “I fought a guy on the second floor and had to throw him through a window to save the librarian from the fire.”
“People have died before—” Magnum started.
I shook my head, cutting him off. “Not like this. People we fought have been shot. I’ve never killed anyone with my bare hands.”
“To be fair, it was the ground that killed him,” Magnum pointed out. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably when I looked at him. “It’s true,” he said.
“Just the same,” I replied. “If we had known some of the Bullets were riding with the copycats, the sheriff could have taken them in before things got out of hand.”
“On what charges?” Magnum asked.
I was amazed that he was arguing the point. “Suspicion of violence against Sparrow.”
“They can’t hold anyone on suspicion,” Magnum said. “You have to actually commit a crime.”
“I forgot you’re an expert,” I snapped.
Surprise and hurt filled his expression.
Shame flooded me. I hung my head. “I’m sorry, Magnum. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I just never expected any of this to happen. Things have gotten out of hand. I need to find out if any more of the Bullet members are involved.”
“I’ll help you,” he said. “I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt, least of all you. They’ve moved their hangout spot, but I’ll ask around and see what I can find out.”
That made me feel a bit better. “Thanks.”
He waved my words away. “Don’t mention it. If it wasn’t for you, my dad would have been under there,” he said, nodding toward the burned house. “I know it must have been hard, after what you went through with your sister.”
I tipped my head toward him. “You know what? It wasn’t hard.” At his surprised look, a smile touched my lips even though he couldn’t see it. “I think it’s because my brother was at my side.”
He nodded, his expression serious. “We’ll find out who’s behind this.”
“Definitely,” I replied, thinking of the help I was on my way to get. “We’ll keep Sparrow safe.” I held out a hand.
Magnum shook it. “I might not wear the helmet any more, but I’ve still got your back.”
“I appreciate it,” I told him. I climbed back onto the motorcycle. “I’ve got to stop by the police station. Catch you later.”
He waved and I took off up the road.
I MADE IT TO THE police station before noon. The deputies went out of their way to talk to me. By the time I reached the sheriff’s office, I was half an hour later than I expected, and my back was throbbing from a few hearty slaps.
“You’re late,” Sheriff Bowley noted when I walked in.
“I was detained by your enthusiastic men. I’m glad they enjoy their jobs.”
He nodded. “I might have mentioned you’d be here. Several of them were supposed to be out on rounds, but thought they’d stay a bit later to talk to the Black Rider.”
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see them. “Thanks for that.”
He chuckled as he rose to close the blinds around his office. “I thought you’d appreciate it.”
When the blinds were shut and nobody could see in, I took off my helmet.
“What’s this about?” Sheriff Bowley asked, taking a seat behind his desk again.
“Is the FBI agent here?”
Sheriff Bowley’s brow creased in concern. “I have him waiting in an office down the hall. You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“It’s worth it if it helps us catch whoever’s in charge. I don’t want anyone else hurt on my account.”
“It’s not your fault,” the sheriff said. “They’re the ones hurting people, not you.”
I fought back a smile. “Sheriff, are you trying to talk Sparrow’s vigilante out of turning himself in?”
He shook his head with a grim expression. “I’m trying not to see someone I’ve come to respect a great deal get prosecuted for saving lives.”
I stood and picked up my helmet. “I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”
“I don’t see how you’re going to avoid it,” he replied.
I smiled. “Have a little faith in the system, Sheriff. Let’s see what happens.” I put my helmet back on.
I wasn’t nearly as confident as I projected when I followed the sheriff down the hall to the last room on the left. I was grateful the helmet hid my expression when the sheriff opened the door and I stepped inside.
I had almost given myself up once before, but at the last minute, the students and citizens of Sparrow had shown me they weren’t ready to see the end of the Black Rider. Black-painted motorcycles, four-wheelers, and other machines had swallowed up the Black Rider in a sea of camouflage and helped him escape. One agent had stood out from the others as I rode away. I studied the same agent now.
He stood when we entered and watched me with his jaw clenched and his expression hidden behind black sunglasses. I fought back a smile at the cliché of wearing shades indoors. His gray suit was impeccable and matched the salt-and-pepper color of his hair. There was a shadow of scruff on his face, as if he had driven a long distance to meet me. I had no doubt his plan was to return with me as well.
“Agent Devereaux, this is the Black Rider,” Sheriff Bowley supplied as he closed the door.
“I can see that,” the agent replied shortly.
I fought back the urge to leave. Now that we were in the same room together, I wouldn’t have the chance. I had already gone too far to change my mind. “Agent Devereaux, I appreciate your willingness to meet with me.”
The agent glanced at the sheriff. It was clear that my statement surprised him. “You mean, you set this up?”
I nodded. “I don’t want to see Sparrow under threat anymore.”
“As long as the Black Rider rides the streets as a masked vigilante, the town will be under threat,” the agent replied coldly.
“My goal is to stop the copycats and drug trade in Sparrow once and for all,” I told him.
The agent shifted his sunglasses, his eyebrows lowering skeptically. “And how do you intend to do that?”
I unlatched my helmet and took it off. “By coming to an agreement,” I replied.
It was clear the agent was surprised. Whether it was my age or my willingness to cooperate, I didn’t know. I took advantage of his silence. “I understand the FBI wants to bring me in for questi
oning about the shooting at the school.”
The agent cleared his throat. “Among other things.”
I nodded. “I also assume the FBI has a very great interest in finding out who’s behind the increased drug trade in Sparrow.”
He nodded, watching me in silence.
“If we work together, I think things can come to a conclusion sooner rather than later.”
“What do you have in mind?” the agent asked.
I gripped my helmet tight in one hand. “The copycat riders seem to know who I am, or at the very least, they know details about my life that are proving detrimental for Sparrow. They want me to leave town.”
“We have something in common, then,” the deputy replied dryly.
I didn’t allow him to disturb me. “They’re after me; you’re after them and me. Perhaps your best bet is to let me continue being who I am and wait for them to show themselves. You want to bring me in anyway—how about waiting until it’s in everyone’s best interest? Use me to flush them out.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “You’d make yourself a target?”
I gave him a wry smile. “I’m already a target. I’m asking you to use it to your advantage.” I set my helmet on the small desk. “Don’t take me in now. Give me a wire or a tracking device. These guys are getting more desperate in their attempts to make me leave. If I don’t, I have to assume they’ll either become more foolhardy or finish me off altogether.”
The sheriff crossed his arms. It was obvious he didn’t like where the discussion was going.
“I want Sparrow safe,” I said, keeping my gaze locked on Agent Devereaux so he couldn’t doubt my sincerity. “Everything I’ve done has been to protect this town. Now the Black Rider is a threat to it. Use me to your advantage, and let’s track these guys down together.”
The agent took off his sunglasses. His eyes were a piercing blue. He looked younger without the glasses hiding his expression. “What’s to keep you from disappearing when you walk out this door?”
“The same thing that made me walk through it in the first place,” I told him. “My goal is for this town to be safe, and I can’t do it by myself.”
He was silent for a few minutes. “I was supposed to bring you in,” he said quietly.
“I’m in,” I reassured him with another wry smile. “Tell them you know who I am, and I just made a deal.”
“What deal?” he asked, his gaze searching mine.
“That I give you whoever’s in charge in return for leniency.”
“I can’t guarantee anything,” Agent Devereaux said.
I nodded. “I figured as much, but it’s worth a shot.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up for the barest second in what might be considered a smile. It vanished immediately. “We’ll call you.”
I glanced at the sheriff. “My phone got burned in the library fire. I threw it at one of the copycats.”
The sheriff nodded, his shoulders stiff. “I’ll get you another one.”
Agent Devereaux shook his head. “I will get you another one,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I picked up my helmet and pulled it on my head. I buckled the chin strap and slid down the visor before holding out my hand. “I look forward to working with you, Agent Devereaux.”
He put his glasses back on and accepted my handshake. “You’ll be hearing from me soon.”
“Hopefully, it will be the other way around,” I replied.
He shook the sheriff’s hand without a word, then left through the door. The sheriff and I watched him go. Several deputies from the main room looked back down the hall at us.
“I can’t believe you’re still standing here,” Sheriff Bowley commented.
“Me neither,” I replied honestly. “I wasn’t sure it would work.”
“Apparently, they feel like there’s a bigger fish to fry.”
I glanced at him. “Should I feel relieved?”
He smiled. “If you’re not the one in the frying pan? Yes, feel relieved.”
“I appreciate you setting this up. I’ll make sure you stay in the loop,” I told the sheriff as we walked up the hall together. “I know you want to get to the bottom of this as much as I do.”
“Just not at your expense,” the sheriff replied. He pushed the door open. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too,” I told him.
I STOPPED AT THE junkyard and swapped my motorcycle for the four-wheeler. Jagger was nowhere to be found. Mick barked ferociously from the shack as though dismayed he had been left behind. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Jagger sitting on the porch swing sipping lemonade at the Ashby house when I arrived.
“You came for the groundbreaking?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Kid, anythin’ ta do with bein’ invited ta dinner is a welcome occasion.”
“They might put you to work,” I warned him, thinking of Mom’s comment about the backhoe.
He chuckled. “They know better than that.”
Aunt Lauren came through the screen door wearing a T-shirt and overalls that fit snugly over her growing belly. “You made it!” she exclaimed upon seeing me. “Kelson’s here,” she called over her shoulder into the house.
Mom pushed the door open with Deputy Addison close behind. The deputy carried a bowl of Aunt Lauren’s potato salad. He gave me a searching look, and I nodded. He answered with a small smile.
A table and chairs had been set up near the swing. Jagger looked exceptionally pleased at the appearance of food.
Uncle Rick and Jaren came out a few minutes later carrying hamburgers and hot dogs. Cole exploded through the back door as Uncle Rick lifted up the smoking grill.
“Is it ready? Is it ready?” Cole demanded.
“It’s ready,” Uncle Rick said.
Cole danced around the grill just out of reach of the flames that spouted as Uncle Rick carefully set hamburgers on the black bars.
“Kelson,” Uncle Rick called. When I reached his side, he handed me the tongs. “You’re in charge. Don’t let them burn.” I stared after him in surprise. He walked back into the house as Aunt Lauren came out carrying a plate of sliced tomatoes and cheese.
At Cole’s crestfallen look, I said, “Don’t worry. At least if they get burned, you won’t be the one in trouble.”
“But I like fire,” he replied with his lip stuck out in a pout.
“That’s probably why your father isn’t letting you barbecue,” I told him.
He pouted a few more minutes until Mom called him. “Cole, want to help me feed Trouble?” He brightened up and ran over to where she waited with the bottle.
A truck drove down the road. It took me a few minutes to realize it was Madelyn and Mr. West. They must have traded their van in now that they no longer needed it for Mrs. West’s wheelchair. The black paint on the truck was faded, but it looked to be in good condition—at least, as far as my city eyes could tell—and it was towing a trailer with a backhoe on it.
My heart started to pound in my chest at the thought of being near Madelyn again. She waved from the open truck window when she saw me. I waved back and couldn’t help the ridiculous grin that spread across my face. Just knowing she was coming to dinner made me so happy that I could barely contain myself.
“Burgers, Kelson,” Uncle Rick reminded me as he walked by with a pitcher of Aunt Lauren’s fresh lemonade.
I started in surprise and pushed back the lid of the grill. They were just beginning to burn. I hurriedly flipped them over one at a time, the flames licking up with bright, devouring tongues, attempting to destroy anything they reached. I finished the last one and closed the grill quickly with a sick feeling in my stomach.
“Maybe grilling isn’t your strong point,” Uncle Rick said, pausing near me again.
I gave him what I hoped was a confident smile. “I’ve got it under control.”
“You sure?” he asked in a tone that let me know he guessed more than I let on.
I nodded.
“I’m good.”
He patted me on the back. “Good to hear it.”
I gritted my teeth at the pain to my bruises and smiled.
Madelyn burst from the truck as soon as it stopped. She was wearing flip-flops and looked adorable in a bright yellow shirt and white cut-off shorts. When she reached me, she threw her arms around my neck. I caught her and spun her in a circle as she gave me a kiss. I looked down at her in surprise.
“In front of your father?” I asked.
She gave a cute little laugh. “He’ll have to accept that I love you one of these days.”
I stared at her.
“What?” she asked self-consciously, gazing up at me with her entrancing hazel eyes that threatened to steal my senses completely away.
“I could hear you say that a million times,” I told her quietly.
“I love you?” she asked. When I nodded, the beautiful, special smile that she reserved only for me spread across her face. It lit her eyes and gave her skin a glow to rival the setting sun. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she said, leaning in to plant another kiss softly on my lips.
I was so taken by her that I couldn’t reply.
“Kelson, the burgers,” Uncle Rick said, appearing from what felt like nowhere.
I swore softly and lifted up the lid of the grill. Thanks to Uncle Rick, only two looked completely lost. I stacked the others on the plate he had set beside the grill and piled the hot dogs alongside them.
“Don’t worry,” Uncle Rick said, taking the plate. “Jake’s fond of over-charred burgers.” He winked at Madelyn. “I’ve had my share of mishaps due to a pretty woman catching my eye.”
Aunt Lauren was on her way past. Uncle Rick pulled her close and kissed her soundly, and she gasped in surprise. Madelyn and I stifled laughs.
“Rick!” she exclaimed. A soft blush colored her cheeks. He carried the plate of hamburgers and hot dogs to the table, and we heard them laughing as they walked.
“They are so cute,” Madelyn said. “I can’t wait until she has her baby! Do they know if it’s a boy or girl?”
I shook my head. “Aunt Lauren wants to wait. She says she’d like it to be a surprise. Uncle Rick wants to find out because he says having another girl might just be the end of him.”