by Debbie Mason
His former deputy took the hint, a toothy grin breaking over his smooth baby face. “He’s a slave driver. No more poker parties or girls allowed to while away the hours.”
“He never was any fun. Straight arrow through and through.”
“I heard that,” Gage said, walking toward them.
The three of them shared a couple laughs before they were inundated by a steady stream of guys Chance had gone to school with. Gage didn’t leave his side. Anytime someone brought up Kate, his brother deftly changed the subject. But there was always one in the crowd who didn’t take the hint. Chance had seen Earl Skully, Kate and Natalee’s uncle and owner of the local body shop, eyeing him for the last twenty minutes.
Now that he had some liquid courage in his system, Earl ambled over. He hooked his thumbs in red suspenders, nodding to where his niece served a table of old-timers. “Pretty little thing, just like her sister. Must be tough on you, Chance, being reminded of Katie every time you see Natalee.”
“Earl, we—” Gage began, but the older man kept talking.
“Never saw Katie without a smile on her face. Still can’t believe she’s gone. Lost a lot of sleep over the accident, you know. Felt bad, seeing as how I’m the one who sold her that car. If she’d been in a truck—”
“Why don’t you just say what you really mean, Earl?” Chance got off the bar stool, pushing aside his brother’s restraining hand. “You’ve always blamed me for the accident. And you’re right, it was my fault. I should have been with her that night.”
“Geezus, Chance. It was an accident. You—”
Earl interrupted Gage with a glower. “An accident that wouldn’t have happened if he’d been at home, where he belonged. But instead he was off playing the big man in town. You’re all the same, you McBrides, thinking you’re better than the rest of us. One day, someone will teach—”
Chance deserved whatever the old man said to him, but he drew the line when it came to his family. He got into Earl’s space. “That sounded like a threat to me. And I don’t take kindly to threats.”
The old man backed into a stool. “It wasn’t a threat. I—”
Sawyer came around the bar. “Earl, it’s time for you to leave.”
Ray took the old man by the arm. “I’ll see him home,” he said to Gage, then held Chance’s gaze. “Remember the O’Brien case?”
Chance knew what he was getting at, but it wasn’t the same. Ray had done everything he could to save old man O’Brien. He just hadn’t gotten there in time.
“It wasn’t your fault, big guy. Stop blaming yourself,” Ray said before leading Earl away.
“He’s right,” Gage said.
Before he had a chance to respond, Nat, with a stricken expression on her face, rushed over. “What did Uncle Earl do?”
“Nothing. He’s had too much to drink, that’s all,” Chance told her.
Her fingers whitened on the empty tray as she tracked her uncle’s progress. “He blames himself… for the accident.”
She looked like she was going to cry, and all Chance wanted to do was get the hell out of there.
“Natalee,” Sawyer said, angling his head, “table four’s drinks are up.”
“Are you going to be here for a while?” she asked Chance as she retrieved the drinks from the bar.
“I’m heading—”
“Yeah, he is,” Gage cut Chance off, giving him a light shove in the direction of Paul’s table. “You are not letting that vindictive old man ruin Dad’s night. I mean it, Chance.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
His father looked up as they approached the table. “What was that all about with Earl?”
“Nothing,” he and Gage responded almost at the same time.
“Always could tell when you two were lying.” Their father pushed out a chair with his foot. “Sit down. We’ll discuss it later.”
“Hey, Einstein, didn’t see you come in,” Chance said to Ethan, Liz O’Connor’s son and his brother Gage’s best friend. Chance had given him the nickname in high school.
“You were busy with your many admirers,” he said to Chance.
Chance rolled his eyes and took his seat.
“Did you hear back from Jordan yet?” Gage asked Ethan. Jordan Reinhart was Denver’s district attorney. Up until a few months ago, Ethan had worked for Jordan as ADA. But Ethan had recently been appointed district attorney, overseeing the thirteenth district, which included Christmas.
“Yeah, no connection to your case.”
“Okay, you two, no shoptalk. We’re here to celebrate my last days of bachelorhood.” His father looked up, motioning at a brown-haired man with a military bearing. “Matt, over here.”
Gage, who’d taken the seat across from Chance, rubbed the back of his neck. A nervous habit both his brother and father shared. Wondering what had brought it on, Chance scanned the bar.
“Good to see you, Matt,” Ethan said with a smirk as the man approached the table. “I don’t think you’ve met Paul’s oldest son, Chance.” Jesus, he makes me sound decrepit. “Chance, this is Matt Trainer. He works with your dad.”
Yeah, so why was Einstein the one introducing them? And why did he seem to be taking such pleasure in doing so?
“Better known as Dr. McSexy,” Ethan added, waggling his eyebrows at Chance.
He’d always been a pain in Chance’s ass.
Trainer stuck out his hand. “Good to finally meet you. Paul talks about you all the time.”
“Yeah, likewise,” Chance said, sizing up Vivi’s coffee date.
Trainer grimaced, shaking out his hand when Chance finally released it. “Powerful grip you have there.”
Ethan chuckled into his beer while Paul frowned at Chance before saying, “Pull up a chair and join us, Matt.”
Leaning back, Chance folded his arms across his chest. “So, Matt, how long have you been at Christmas General?”
“About two years now. I filled in for your dad when he took a cruise.”
His father glanced at Ethan, looking uncomfortable. Chance had heard all about the cruise his aunt had orchestrated. His father’s then girlfriend, Karen, had whisked him away on a romantic vacation only to discover that Liz was in the cabin next door. Courtesy of Nell, of course.
“Yes, and he did such a great job, I decided we couldn’t let him go.” His father smiled at the other man.
“Really? No family, kids, or wife waiting for you back home?” Chance asked.
Trainer shot Ethan, who was now laughing his ass off—the little bastard—a confused look before saying, “No, I’m single.”
“I find that hard to believe. What are you… forty, forty-five?”
His father’s jaw dropped. “Chance!”
Trainer didn’t seem to be bothered by his line of questioning. He just laughed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Guess I better knock off the all-nighters. I’m thirty-five.”
“All-nighters? You into booze, drugs—”
His father pushed back his chair. “Son, I’d like a word with you. Now.”
“Relax, Dad,” Gage said, shooting Chance a don’t-be-an-ass look before saying to the doc, “Don’t mind my brother. He has a suspicious mind. Occupational hazard.”
“Right, you’re a security specialist, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, when he’s not masquerading as a comic book hero,” Ethan said.
Chance opened his mouth to tell Einstein he also knew fifty ways to kill a man without leaving any evidence. But he thought better of it given his future stepbrother’s position as district attorney.
“Oh, so you do like birthday parties for kids? Or do you work for a charitable organization that grants wishes?”
Before he could respond, his brother and Ethan’s cell phones pinged. They shared a look after retrieving their messages and stood up. “We’ll be back in half an hour,” Gage said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Chance narrowed his eyes. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, we just—”
Ted and Fred, his aunt Nell’s best friends, sauntered over. They reminded Chance of the two old guys from the Muppets. The ones who sat up in the balcony giving everyone a hard time.
“You boys heading over to the Garage?” Ted asked.
His father gave the older man a confused look. “No, why would we?”
“Because that’s where the girls are.”
“No, they’re at Maddie and Gage’s place,” his father informed Fred.
“Nope, they moved the party to the Garage.” The old man held up his cell phone. “Me and Ted are heading over there. Someone’s got to look out for them. It’s a biker bar, you know.”
Chance eyed Gage and Ethan. “Where exactly is this bar?” he asked Fred.
“Fred and Ted, why don’t we—” Gage began, hustling the men away from the table.
“Logan County,” Ted said over his shoulder. “Callahans opened it up about a month ago.”
* * *
“Do not fight me on this, Chance. You’re staying in the truck. Despite what Ted and Fred said, the Garage isn’t a biker bar. I’m sure everything’s fine,” Gage said from the truck’s passenger seat.
Chance backed into a parking space in the packed strip mall. “Everything’s not fine. Somehow Vivi found out about Callahan.” He should have known she wouldn’t give up and cut her off at the pass.
“So what? It’s not like she’s in there asking for trouble. She’ll nose around and realize there’s no story here.” Ethan leaned forward to put a hand on Chance’s shoulder. “He has nothing to hide. Gage and I have been keeping an eye on him. Let it go. No good can come out of you going in there.”
Chance put the truck in Park and twisted in his seat. “You realize we’re talking about Vivian Westfield, right? The same woman who, in trying to protect your wife, nearly got herself killed. She’s a hothead, Ethan. She won’t stop until she gets her story or gets hurt. And whether you and my brother believe me or not, Vivi getting close to Callahan can lead to only one thing—trouble with a capital T.”
“Look, I get that you’re worried about her, but you going in there will only make matters worse. You were lucky you didn’t kill him that night, Chance.”
“Luck didn’t have anything to do with it. If I wanted him dead, he would be. I wanted answers.” He still did, but he hadn’t broken Jake that night, so he didn’t fool himself into thinking that was about to change. All he could do was keep him on his radar and wait for him to screw up.
Gage shot Ethan a help-me-out-here look, but Chance was done talking. He got out of the truck at the same time his father pulled in beside them. When he saw Trainer in the passenger seat, Chance swore under his breath. Just what he needed to deal with on top of everything else. He headed across the parking lot. He made it ten feet before the four musketeers surrounded him.
“I’m going in there, and none of you”—he swept a finger around the circle—“can stop me.”
“I think I might be able to.” Ethan rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt to flex his muscles. For a guy who sat behind a desk all day, he had pretty impressive guns. Not that it would do him any good.
“You may be thirty-eight years old, but I’m still your father.” His dad seemed to realize that wasn’t going to cut it, and tried again. “Do you want me to have a heart attack? Because that’s what will happen if you go in there and get hurt.”
His father was as healthy as a horse. And playing the guilt card had never worked all that well on Chance.
“Took down a guy bigger than you last month. I’ve got this.” His brother cracked his knuckles.
With his height, weight, and training, Gage would get in a couple of good hits, but Chance could take him if he wanted to. Only he had no intention of laying a finger on any of them. He’d been edging them closer to the entrance doors and himself to the outer fringe of their posse.
Like Chance had done earlier, Trainer sized him up. “Haven’t had a good workout in a while. Wouldn’t mind a shot.” The doc flexed his admittedly impressive biceps, then shot Chance a grin. “Delta Force, in case you were wondering.”
So maybe he could give him a bit of trouble, but Chance was done wasting time. He was about to distract them when he heard a familiar voice behind him and felt something poking him in the back.
“Don’t worry, boys. I can take him. I have a gun.”
Chance sighed. “Fred, it’s your finger.”
“How did you know that?” Fred asked as he and Ted joined the other men, blocking Chance’s intended escape route.
“Because this”—he reached in the back of his jeans and pulled the Glock from under his leather jacket—“is a tad bigger than what you were poking in my back.”
“For chrissakes, Chance, put that thing away. I should arrest you,” his brother said.
“You can’t arrest me. I have a permit to carry concealed. Now if you boys don’t mind, I need to track down my… a woman.” He hoped none of them caught the slip. But of course they did. His father, Ethan, and Gage grinned.
His hands in his front jeans pockets, Trainer rocked on his heels. “You wouldn’t be talking about Vivi Westfield, would you? Because I have a date with her on Monday, so I kinda think that makes her my woman. Not yours.”
The guy was yanking his chain, but Chance stared him down anyway while returning the gun to the back of his jeans. And instead of telling the idiot she was his like he wanted to, he said, “You haven’t met her, Trainer. So it’s a little premature to be staking your claim, don’t you think?”
“Just wanted to be clear on where things stand, that’s all.”
Forget it, he’d already wasted enough time as it was. He pushed past them, ignoring Gage and Ethan’s warnings. “Don’t worry,” he heard his father say to his brother as they hurried after him. “Vivi will keep him in line.”
They were worried about the wrong person. Chance had no intention of confronting Callahan tonight. There were too many witnesses. All he wanted to do was get Vivi out of there and shut down her hunting expedition.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bar’s dim lighting. The place was all chrome and steel. A heavy pulsing beat pounded from the speakers near the crowded dance floor at the far end of the bar.
“There they are.” His father pointed out the women jammed into two metallic booths about twenty feet away. Nell spotted them and said something to the women in her booth that sent them into peals of laughter.
Gage groaned. “They’re looped.”
Sophia Dane got out of her seat and did a sexy bump and grind. “Ethan, come dance for us. Skye says you are better than Channing Tatum.” She waved a fistful of bills as the other women sang “It’s Raining Men.”
“Got something you want to share with us, buddy?” Gage asked his best friend.
Ethan, his face a dull red, set off in his wife’s direction, muttering, “I can’t believe she told them that.”
“Keep your brother in line,” his father said to Gage before heading for Liz.
“Come on, Fred.” Ted tugged on the other man’s arm. “There’s a guy checking out Nell.”
While all this was going on, Chance scanned the room for Vivi and the Callahans. He spotted Jake Callahan’s brother Mike standing behind the stainless steel bar, chatting up a woman wearing a low-cut top, painted-on jeans, and mile-high shoes to match her out-to-there dark hair. “Thought you said there was nothing illegal going on?” Chance jerked his thumb at the bar. “Looks to me like the Callahans are making their money pimping out women.”
Gage rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, Chance, I think you might want to get your eyes checked. That woman isn’t a prostitute. It’s Vivi.”
“What are you smoking? There’s no way…” Chance began, when the woman in question laughed and swiveled on the chrome stool to face them. Jesus, God. She mouthed, Oh, shit, and slid off the stool, pulling a woman with short dark hair along with her.
Chance regained his power of speech when
, beside him, Trainer said, “That’s Vivi Westfield?”
“Don’t even think about it, Doc,” Chance warned him.
Trainer grinned. “Remind me to thank your aunt.”
“Yeah, you go and do that.” Chance wanted to talk to Vivi on his own. “Gage, your wife looks like she’s headed for the dance floor with Big and Burly.”
“Forget about it. I’m not falling for… Well, hell.” His brother took off when he realized Madison was indeed being dragged toward the dance floor by a guy dressed in chains and leather.
Mike Callahan’s eyes followed Vivi. Chance crossed his arms, staring at him over her head. It took a minute for Mike to sense he was being watched. Once he did, he took a startled step back, a look of panic on his face. He waved two linebackers over to the bar and took off. No doubt to call his brother and tell him Chance was in town.
“Chance?” Vivi said, a nervous hitch in her bedroom voice.
He raised a brow as he let his gaze drift down her body then back to her face. She shifted on her heels, her hand going to her hair. “I know, I know, you don’t have to say anything. I look like a hooker. I should have listened to Maddie. But you wouldn’t believe how stubborn Hailey and Holly are. And Nell didn’t help because for some reason—”
Oh yeah, she was nervous. She always rambled when she was.
The woman beside Vivi cut her off with a you’re-screwed look. “Hey, Chance. Good to see you. I’ll just go—”
He frowned, taking in the woman’s heavily made-up features. “Cat?”
“Yeah, Holly and Hailey got to me, too.” She backed away. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”
“Cat,” Vivi called after her. “Maybe she’s sick or something. I’ll just go—”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her against him, ducking his head to look into her eyes. “Am I making you nervous, Slick?”
She put her hand on his chest, her incredible violet eyes drinking him in. “Why would I be nervous?” she asked, her voice husky and low.
“Because you know that I know what you’re doing here. And Slick, you’re going to stop doing it right now.”