“I probably would have said the same thing,” Jayce answered, waving it off. “Then what, Rusty?”
Rusty shrugged. “We took him to Wallace. Told him what happened, asked him what he wanted us to do.”
“What’d Wallace say?”
“He said to leave Crawford with him. He’d take him to the bus station in the morning, get him out of Markham. We came back here.”
At the end of Rusty’s story Jayce motioned to Spaz. “So, tell us what you heard this morning, Spaz.”
“Wallace and Crawford got iced last night.”
Knuckles’ stomach clenched, and all his breath whooshed out at once. “What?”
Spaz leaned in now, too, fidgeting with his beanie. “The mail man called it in. The front door of their trailer was left open, which he thought was weird. And he could smell the blood, so he called the Sheriff’s. Didn’t even go in. But you know Hack, that hang around with the shitty tattoo on his face?”
Around the table, every man nodded.
“He lives next door, saw the cruisers get there. They brought the coroner. We’re assuming it’s both Crawford and Wallace.”
Knuckles closed his eyes. “Shit. I fucking like Wallace.”
“We all do,” Buck mused, absently, eyes staring at the table.
“So,” Jayce said loudly, leaning back, one arm on the rest of his chair, the other still on the edge of the chipped table surface. “That brings us to this coroner.”
Now all sets of eyes swung to him. “What about her?” he asked warily.
Jayce sighed, letting go of the table and rubbing his eyes. “Fuck Knuckles, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“We all are,” Fritter said quickly, and Knuckles shot him a grin.
“She’s an employee of the Sheriff’s department,” Jayce reminded him unnecessarily.
“I know.”
“I’m nervous because we don’t know her,” Jayce said, not unkindly. “This isn’t exactly like Fritter nailing Sharon—”
“Hey!” the guy shot back.
“—so for that reason, I gotta problem with this.”
Knuckles’ hands tightened into fists. “Okay,” he said hollowly, aware of how that word took any remaining lightness out of the room.
“How serious is this?”
He took a deep breath. “It’s serious.”
Spaz coughed. Buck shifted in his seat, his leather creaking. Tank was frowning at the surface of the table. Fritter was watching the Prez.
In his gut, his stomach seemed to have retreated somewhere up around his lungs. This was a weird feeling that he’d never had before. Not despair, not anger.
Fuck, he was scared. Not that Jayce would take his patch. No, he was scared they were going to tell him he was forbidden to be with Danielle.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but out of every man at this table you’re the last one I ever expected to take an old lady,” Jayce was continuing.
“She’s not my old lady. Not…not yet.” He had to swallow. The lump in his throat made it painful.
“But that’s your thinking?”
“She’s not…” He shook his head, no idea how to put it. “She’s not just a woman I’m visiting to get laid. She wouldn’t be that for anyone.”
“So, what is she, Knuckles?”
He met his Prez’s eye. “She’s someone I really care about. I want to protect. Be with. Spend time with. When I’m with her I feel…” he stopped and swallowed again. He’d damn near said normal.
“She’s a mom?”
“Yeah.” He sighed and leaned in on his elbows. “She’s got a sixteen-year-old and a ten-year-old. Girls, both of them. The oldest is, well, she’d a teenager. Cranky but she’s a good kid. Gets herself in jams but knows to get out of them, too. The youngest…” he had to laugh, smiling down on his hands. “Annie. She’s…she’s hilarious. She wants to learn how motorcycles work, and she wants to help me put mine back together.”
“You’re putting together a bike?”
The change of subject surprised him and he nodded at Buck. “Yeah. Tiny helped me find it. It’s a frame, rims, and boxes of parts. I barely know what I’m doing but I’m not in any rush, either. Annie’s been studying books to point out where I’m fucking up.”
The group laughed, but he wasn’t at ease yet.
“A woman with kids is a big responsibility,” Jayce said, quieting everything down.
“Yes, it is.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
Knuckles felt that like a gut shot, too. “What?”
“What if it doesn’t work out? What if you let her down, and she doesn’t like that?”
Now he felt anger. That was better; it crowded the fear to the back so he didn’t register it at all. “You saying your big worry is that she’d jeopardize her career to implicate the club? Just to get back at me for something? Are you seriously saying that?”
“Yes I am.”
“Fuck you,” he muttered, and the room froze in place.
“Excuse me?”
“She’s not some hysterical head case looking to chase a biker down just to trap him and get his ink. She’s her own complete person, she was this way before I even met her. She’s not going to change anything about herself, and I’m sure as fuck not going to ask her to. I like her exactly how she is, and the fact that she’s this smart—and by the way, she got this job all on her own while raising two kids—the fact she’s this smart is one of the best things about her. I’d never ask her to do anything to put her job in jeopardy, and I’d have a big issue with anyone suggesting she should.”
Jayce kept eye contact, cold and steady, during his entire diatribe. He didn’t know what the man was thinking, and he felt the need to keep pushing his case.
“You’re right. I don’t go looking for women to take my ink. Never have, and I sure as shit wasn’t looking when this all happened. Annie found me first, wanting to help with the bike when I couldn’t ride because of the stitches. The rest of the family kind of followed, I guess. I don’t know. But she hasn’t had it easy. Her ex is a prick of the highest order and she moved her to get away from him for a very good reason. With me, and where my head’s at…” He stopped, before he gave away too much about the buzzing and his problems. If they knew, he’d be fucked.
“Where’s your head at, Knuckles?” This was Tank, and the big guy’s soft tone was almost enough to inspire a breakdown into tears, but he kept it together.
“With the things I have to do. She doesn’t know about them, but…let’s just say her husband brought back shit from his Navy days. He didn’t take it as well.”
“But you’re okay?”
Knuckles met Tank’s eye. “Yeah, I’m solid.”
The big bastard’s soul-searching gaze shrank his damn skin, but eventually the VP nodded. “All right then.”
“I’m not saying I’d choose her over the club,” he continued carefully, splaying his hands on the table. “But with everything I do for this club…” Shit, that didn’t sound right. “No, sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s not that I want extra consideration. I do everything I’m asked for this club…” When he looked up he had the actual fear that he might start crying. “She’s like a home base for me. Being with her is grounding. She makes me feel like I deserve her. Almost, anyway.”
The room sat silent after his messy, emotional bust up. All he could do was stare at the finish on the boardroom table, wishing like fuck someone would say something.
“How long has this been going on?” Tank again.
“I’ve been hanging out with the kid for about two months. Danielle took a while to warm up to me. But for the last month, I’d say. Yeah, that’s probably when she came around to me.” He cracked a half-smile. “Believe me, she made me work for it.”
Jayce allowed a slight grin, too. “The good ones always do.”
“You understand our concern, Knuck?” Tank asked. “Think about your woman, sta
nding over a body, doing her job. What if she knew you’d put that body there? What if she knew any one of us had done that? How’d she take that?”
“It’s not the coroner’s job to speculate whodunit.”
That foreign voice spoke up from the end opposite of Jayce, and Knuckles had damn near forgot Mad Dog was actually in the room. The Rebels all turned to their founder, awaiting clarification, but it was Jayce who said, “What are you talking about?”
“The coroner determines cause of death. Time of death. That’s their only job. That’s all they can also testify about in court.” Mad Dog shrugged a shoulder. “Name me one guy that went to jail because of a coroner’s report. No matter who’s doing that job, it’s kind of important that no evidence or witnesses link us to any crimes.” Then he levelled his shrewd stare at Knuckles. “That way your woman is never in the fucked-up position of knowing what bodies we put in front of her.”
They all stared, and Knuckles didn’t think anyone else was even breathing. “Well…shit,” he eventually breathed, shaking his head. The last person he’d expect speaking up on his behalf was Mad Dog McClune.
“If she ever figured it out—” Jayce began.
“She could guess,” Mad Dog cut in. “But it ain’t her place to suggest to the cops who she thinks did it. They have to work on evidence and what they can prove. She just tells ‘em what caused the poor bastards to bite it.”
Jayce looked to Knuckles. “You know her, obviously. If she ever had the slightest suspicion that you’d put a body in her work pile, what would her reaction be?”
He leaned back, sighing deeply. “She doesn’t bring much work home with her. But…” He straightened back up again, remembering something that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t brought up before. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“I…I think she gets it.”
“Gets it?” Jayce put his hands out. “Gets it how?”
“When we found out it was Brian trying to get Sunshine into Markham. Her daughter got approached by some bangers in Bakersfield.”
“G-Town?” Tank cut in. “They’re trying to get into Markham?”
“Not part of this point,” Knuckles cut in, hand up. “But yes. What I mean is, she told me that Crawford put this to her daughter. She didn’t go to work and let Turnbull know. She told me.”
Around the room, his brothers exchanged looks. Fritter and Tank were nodding.
“She’s not like Sharon,” he admitted. “She hasn’t grown up here, she’s not into the club life. Not yet. But she’s not naïve. She sees how the world works. She sees where the law has its limits. She gave us Crawford to begin with.”
“He’s right,” Mad Dog spoke up again. “Technically, she really should have told the Sheriff about that ass swipe trying to sell in schools.”
He held up his hand with its new, shining white bandage. “She watched me tune in Crawford. She stopped me before I killed him, but then she wrapped my hand. She might understand being an old lady more than I’m giving her credit for here.”
“We had Spaz look into her,” Jayce informed him, nodding to the IO. “Her ex-husband seems like a piece of work.”
Knuckles nodded. “Abusive. He had a hard time of it in Iraq.”
“No excuse,” Jayce replied, and that was another source of relief.
“Nope. She wants him left alone, though. He’s still the father of her kids.”
Jayce’s eyebrows went up. “Fair enough.”
“She’s smart,” Spaz piped up. “Two kids, school part time. In Markham, a coroner doesn’t need to be an MD, but they need some training. She’s got three degrees; anatomy, pathology, and forensic science. She started out close to her parents, got most of her hours in there, then took this position in Markham.” Spaz sounded thoroughly impressed. “Three degrees in eight years? With two kids? Man.”
Knuckles let that sink in. Shit, she really was beyond his realm of understanding. She didn’t show off her education. She just was all that brain power.
“Okay,” Jayce spoke up, waving a hand. “I won’t see her as a threat. But she should really come and meet everyone. I’m glad she keeps you centered, man. But it takes more than that to make an old lady.” He glanced around at the club. “She’s gotta be able to put up with the rest of these assholes, too.”
That was laughable, as his brothers proved by chuckling. Knuckles honestly couldn’t label a single one of them as an actual asshole, and the way this group was pairing up and making babies he couldn’t see any of them becoming assholes.
“Do you think she’d bring the kids by?” Tank asked.
Knuckles blew out a breath, such was his relief. “No idea. I’m guessing we’re thinking of a big family event?”
“Of course.” Jayce nodded to Buck. “Gertie’s noted that we didn’t celebrate the club anniversary in January, didn’t quite seem right at the time. But now that Dad’s out…” he nodded across the table. “Just us and families. No public. But the event should be marked. Also, someone’s got a birthday coming up.”
Knuckles shook his head as Rusty punched his shoulder.
“Happy birthday dear Knuckles!” Fritter shouted, laughing his ass off. Okay, so the tension had really needed breaking.
“Gertie has time for this?” Knuckles asked Buck.
He nodded. “She’s going to recruit Sharon for a little bit, too. But I guess Sharon’s still office hunting.”
“She found one,” Fritter interjected. “Negotiating rent, but it looks promising. Not far from Ink Junkies, actually. That old paint place. Someone broke it up into two office spaces then went broke from renovations.”
“Cool.” Jayce nodded. “Good for her. And she’s licensed now?”
“Yep. A fully licensed private investigator.”
“Rose will help a bit, too,” Tank put out, then he pointed at each man in turn. “And when asked, you will help out. These are all busy women.”
“Done,” Rusty was the one to answer. “Rose usually gets the dancers to come over. No hardship with that kind of scenery.”
All Knuckles was imagining was how psyched Annie was going to be.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The house was wonderfully silent as Danielle let herself in. Once the report on Brian Crawford and his uncle was completed, she headed back home with the promise to keep her cell phone on if they needed her.
She couldn’t say the scene had shaken her, not really. Well, not the bodies anyway. She’d had car accident fatalities, shooting victims, and elderly people who’d fallen down the stairs in her autopsy suite. Again, the meat container of a person wasn’t anything to fear. The absence of animation made it easier to separate them from being people.
But in that trailer she’d been surrounded by everything that made the place a home, at least to the older man. Photos, his clothes. The dirty dishes left by the sink, to be cleaned later.
Those were the details that hung around. Sticking in her head, making it harder to remind herself that the only role she served in the lives of those she’d examined was making sure that their stories were told. That’s all she owed them, that’s all they expected.
The older man had drowned in his own blood, that was what she’d found when she’d opened him up. There was blood, a lot of it, in his lungs. Painful, but faster than bleeding out. Someone had also held him down so that it happened; the bruising on his forearms confirmed it. Other than that, he hadn’t been brutalized. They’d attacked him while he slept.
Brian had been hurt, quite extensively. The bruising on his face she knew didn’t contribute to his death; that had been Knuckles the night before. Her thoughts were now dwelling in wondering if Knuckles’ friends had anything to do with the deaths.
She couldn’t see why the two that had picked Brian up would kill him and his uncle. They seemed to know the older man, letting him make the call on Brian’s consequences. That didn’t really indicate that the uncle was in any danger.
But did people who knew
the Red Rebels kill the two? That rat on the wall was the main question. Were they saying that Brian ratted someone out? Or was it the marker for this Dirty Rats club that Troy told her about? He was very certain the Rats and Rebels were not friends.
She made herself a late lunch, then plunked her ass on the sofa. Jesus, she was tired. Most people worked ten hours on their feet, but the reasons for her work were taxing on her emotions more that her poor knees and legs.
And she ached in other ways that were much more pleasant to think about.
She swung her legs up on the sofa, reclined into the cushions and sighed, eyes closing. She hadn’t slept much the night before, and remembering why had her smiling.
About half an hour after dozing into a much-needed nap the back door opened and footsteps rushed up into the kitchen. Without sitting up Danielle grinned as she heard Annie exclaim, “Mom, you’re home already?”
“Yeah, I am. I’m in the living room.”
A weight plunked onto her stomach and she grunted, chuckling like she was in pain. “You’re getting so big.”
“Guess what?”
“What honey?”
“There’s a new boy in my class. And he’s from Pakistan.”
“Really? Well, that’s different. What’s his name?”
“His name is Adeel. And he doesn’t talk. I think he’s scared to be there. But he’ll get used to it.”
She sat up and let Annie get comfortable next to her. “I’m sure he will. You going to make friends with him?”
“I think so. I think he’s smart.”
“That’s good.”
“Hey Mom.” Grace made an appearance in the doorway next, dropping her bag inside the kitchen archway.
“Hey hon,” Danielle said softly, stroking Annie’s hair and wondering how in the hell she was going to tell her daughter about Brian Crawford.
Grace plopped down in the arm chair, rolling up her pant leg. “Man, this thing’s bugging me today.”
“She walked home with me, Mom,” Annie said, beaming. The ways Annie worshipped her older sister made Danielle chuckle.
“No wonder it’s bothering you,” Danielle mused as Grace removed the prosthesis, issuing a big sigh.
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