by Naomi West
Sighing, Rascal moved several papers to clear a spot for himself on the couch. “All right. I came across a girl who was in trouble and needed some help. I did what I could for her, but I’m starting to think that maybe she’s in an even worse position than I originally thought.”
Tat shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “If it was me, I probably wouldn’t worry about it so much. I’m lucky enough just to stay on my own feet. You, though, you’re a different kind of guy. Why don’t you go to the president? I’m sure he can give you whatever you need to help this chick.”
It wasn’t a terrible idea, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to get anyone involved. “I don’t know that he can give me what I need. Hell, I’m not even sure what I need. But you’re right, and I’ll keep it in mind.”
“He’s got all sorts of connections,” Tat reminded him.
That was true enough, and Rascal knew he very well might have to go to his superior for help. Maybe that was what he should have done in the first place, but he liked the idea of being able to take care of things himself. It was a feeling leftover from his time at home with his mother. True, the Vultures had really helped him out during that time, but he liked to think that he needed them in different way now. “I’d like to take care of this on my own, if possible.”
Tat’s dark eyes were earnest. “You know we’re all here for you, man. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks.” But right now, the only thing Rascal needed was to get out there and figure out the truth about Vera. He hadn’t been able to put her out of his mind yet, and he wasn’t going to be able to until he felt some sort of closure. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you later.”
His first stop was the hotel. He cursed himself for not paying attention to the name of the clerk who had been there on that fateful night when he had shown up with Vera, expecting to book a room for the two of them under his own name only to find that she’d already had one. Fortunately, that same clerk just happened to be standing behind the counter when Rascal walked in.
“Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?” He smiled pleasantly, looking genuinely eager to do his job.
“Well, I have an unusual request.” Rascal had a feeling he wouldn’t get anywhere with this guy. He was too professional, and he was probably all wrapped up in customer privacy and bullshit like that. “There was a woman in here a few weeks ago by the name of Vera Evans. Do you remember her?”
The clerk tipped his head slightly toward the ceiling and then nodded. “I believe I know who you’re talking about. Didn’t you come in with her at one point?”
“I did.” The man’s memory was good; he had to give him that. “I was wondering what you might be able to tell me about her. I know people like to talk, so if she said anything about where she had been, how she got here, or if there was anything else with her, that’s the sort of thing I need to know.”
The clerk’s eyes widened slightly, but his lips pressed together against any response he might have given. “I’m afraid I can’t give you any information on our guests.”
“Even if she might be in danger?” Rascal had no proof that it was the case, but he couldn’t shake the whole cult thing. Vera could have run away from something, or she could have disappeared to avoid the law. There were any number of possible scenarios, but none of them seemed to be good ones.
“Perhaps that’s something you should contact the police about,” the clerk said primly.
Unable to wait for any more answers, Rascal reached across the counter. He had the young man by his silly little bowtie in an instant, yanking him across the counter so that his feet no longer touched the carpet. “The police aren’t any help. I need information from you, not them. You’re the one who was working here, and you seemed to have talked to her quite a bit. Now, I suggest you talk to me,” he growled.
“Okay!” the young man gasped. “Just put me down before I choke!”
Rascal set him on his feet, not too gently.
“I ought to call the police on you,” the clerk asserted as he straightened his uniform jacket and tried to look dignified. “I’m just following company policy, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone telling your private affairs if you were the one who had stayed here.”
Rascal cracked his knuckles.
“You don’t need to threaten me again,” the clerk said, putting his hands out to keep the biker on her side of the counter. “I already understand your position, but I wanted to put in my two cents first. Anyway, Miss Evans checked in alone. She looked very tired and disheveled. She arrived in the middle of the night with no reservation, which I assure you is not the way we normally do things around here. We’re not just some cheap motel along the highway.”
“Get to the point.” Rascal leaned across the counter, ready to snap him up again at a moment’s notice.
“Fortunately, I happened to have a room available, so I got her all checked in. I was surprised to see her the next day looking completely different, with a nice dress and heels and everything. If you just saw a picture of her, you would think she was some society girl. But the way she acted told me that she wasn’t used to dressing like that.”
“Did she say anything about why she was dressed that way?” Rascal clearly remembered the cocktail dress, which had been torn up to her thigh by the time he’d found her in the canal. It had been an attractive sort of tear, in that it showed off her beautifully muscled legs, but it had also made him wonder just what she had been through.
The clerk narrowed his eyes. “I don’t ask questions. This is a hotel, and people do all sorts of strange things. I just wished her a good evening when she left, and then she came back here with you.”
“Was there ever anyone else with her?”
“No.”
“Did anybody try to contact her? Either on the phone or in person?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“No strange noises?” Rascal pressed, desperate for some sort of information. So far, the clerk hadn’t told him anything he couldn’t have come up with on his own.
“No.”
“You were sure working hard to keep something that wasn’t much of a secret,” Rascal pointed out as he turned for the door. “Thanks for nothing.”
That had been a complete waste of time, and Rascal had already let far too many days go by. If he had known just what Vera might have been involved in when he’d first met her, it might have been easier to trace her back to wherever she had come from. He kicked himself as he got back on his bike and headed down the street, wishing he had done something as soon as he’d found out about her amnesia. It just hadn’t seemed like it was his problem at that moment, and he didn’t think he was the man for the job. What an asshole he had been.
The Jackrabbit wasn’t far. Even though it was early in the day, the bar was already open. Those who worked the nightshift or had nothing better to do with their lives were inside, ready to get drunk and forget about what was really happening around them. A young couple chatted in the corner, eyeing each other seductively. The television on the wall displayed a sports channel with multiple tickers scrolling across the screen while two former athletes discussed stats and the possibilities for next season.
Vinny was behind the bar as usual, and he gave Rascal a wave as he took one of the barstools. “You’re in early. Having a rough day?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“What can I get for you?”
“Just some information.”
The bartender had been reaching for a beer mug, expecting Rascal to order his usual, but he stopped and gave him a sharp look. “About what?”
“About that girl that was in here with me a few weeks ago.” He watched him closely, hoping this wasn’t going to be a dead-end like the prissy little hotel clerk.
Vinny shrugged. “You can’t really expect me to remember that sort of thing, can you? I mean, lots of people come in and out of here.”
“She was a little hard to miss, with her dress all
torn up. Cute thing, with dark hair just past her chin and big blue eyes you could drown in. I told you to keep an eye on her for me while I went out for a minute.”
“Yeah, maybe. It’s kinda familiar. What about her?” Vinny moved down the bar a little to a sink and began washing out some glasses. His movements were jerky, and he almost dropped one of the mugs.
“Anything. I’m gathering up all the info I can get.”
“Sounds serious.” Vinny held up a glass to the light, checking for spots.
“I think it might be, which is why I need your help. Just tell me everything you know, and don’t skip a single thing. I’m happy to make it worth your while.”
Vinny smiled but shook his head. “I don’t really know anymore than you do, man. It was busy in here that night. I gave her the Reuben and she gobbled it down like nobody’s business. You know that.”
“I also happen to know that you gave her driver’s license to her that night, after I left,” Rascal retorted, instantly feeling rage rushing through his blood at the merest hint that Vinny wasn’t cooperating. Rascal should have seen all the red flags that first night, but he must have been too focused on the idea of getting Vera into bed. “Or did you forget that already?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. I guess I did. But if you know that, then why are you asking me?” The bartender dried the glass and set it behind him on a rack. “I do have work to do, you know?”
“And I’ve got much more important things to do than to sit here and listen to you lie to me.” Rascal pounded his fist on the bar top.
Vinny put his elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “Is that supposed to scare me? Man, I’ve seen all kinds in this place, and I’ve learned to turn a blind eye toward a lot. You can go ahead and tell me that I’ll lose the patronage of all the Vultures or whatever, but I’ll just get others in here to replace you.” He pushed off the bar and went through a swinging door that led to the back.
Furious, Rascal shot off his bar stool and flipped up the little section of countertop that usually kept customers from getting into the employees only area. He shoved through the door, done playing games. The back room smelled of old beer, a dark place where boxes of alcohol were stacked up and waiting for consumption.
Vinny turned in surprise, but he only had a moment before Rascal snatched him up by the front of his shirt. He shoved him against the rough brick wall, pushing his face close. “Listen up, you son of a bitch. There’s something going on here, and you’re going to tell me what it is. I don’t give a shit if the Dark Vultures come in here or not, but I’ll tell you right now that I’ll beat the holy living shit out of you if you don’t tell me what I need to know.”
“All right,” Vinny gasped, clutching futilely at Rascal’s meaty hand. “Just put me down, man.”
Rascal lowered him so that his feet touched the floor once again, but he didn’t let go. He wasn’t going to risk the bartender running out the back door. Granted, he and the Vultures could find him again if they needed to, but there was no point in making things even more difficult than they already were. “Speak.”
“Okay, okay.” Fear showed in the smaller man’s dark eyes, and it was clearly an emotion he wasn’t used to. “She was in here the night before. She came in by herself, looking all dressed up and pretty. I didn’t pay much attention to her at that point beyond checking her ID and getting her a drink. I mean, I get beautiful ladies in here all the time, and I’d never get anything done if I let myself get distracted like that, you know what I mean?”
Rascal pounded him against the wall. “Get to the point!”
“A man came in a little while later. Now, he was a guy that I couldn’t help but pay attention to. He looked fishy right away, like he was trying to act casual. The sort of guy I thought might jump up and pull a gun on me and demand all the money from the cash register, you know?”
An uncomfortably feeling writhed in Rascal’s stomach like a thick snake. “What did he look like?”
“Uh, tall guy, light brown hair, kinda squinty eyes. The sort of guy that women probably think is hot even though he’s a douche bag.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve spent far too much time in this bar. What did this guy do?”
“He pulled me aside and told me he needed a man to do him a favor, a favor that would pay very well. He even showed me the stack of cash he was willing to hand over. I have to admit I got excited. I mean, I know the bar looks like a nice place, and you probably think I make plenty of money by preying on people’s need for alcohol, but it’s not really that lucrative of a business. I mean, that’s why you see me running the bar all the time instead of hiring someone to do it for me.”
Rascal gave him another shove, this one a little harder. Vinny’s head bounced off the brick wall, and he cringed. “I think you’re digressing again, asshole. I don’t give a fuck about your finances.”
“Right. Anyway. He gave me a little glass vial with some sort of liquid in it, and he told me I’d get the stack of cash if I spiked the girl’s drink with it.”
“Seriously?” Rascal landed a solid punch into Vinny’s gut with his free hand. He’d always thought of Vinny as a decent guy, but he had definitely been wrong. “Do you drug women on a regular basis?”
A rush of air shot out of the bartender as he doubled over, his eyes squinted shut. His voice was strained when he finally spoke again. “Oh my God. Fuck. Why’d you have to do that? It’s not my fault.”
“Not your fault? You fucking drugged her! You didn’t have to do that!” Rascal was yelling now. The few patrons in the bar could probably hear him, but he didn’t care. Let the whole damn town hear him and find out the sort of things that happened at the Jackrabbit.
“If you saw that stack of cash and the way my profit statements look, then you would think I had to do it, too!” Vinny retorted. “Besides, I know how these things work. If I hadn’t done it, he would have found someone else who would, or he would have done it himself. It’s part of the business, and it’s not my fault if girls aren’t smart enough to watch their drinks.”
“You fucker.” This punch went straight to Vinny’s jaw, and it spun his head to the side. “That’s not how things ought to be!” Rascal couldn’t help but think of his mother, a woman who had worked so hard to carve out a life for herself and her son. As far as he knew, nothing like that had happened to her, but what chance did any woman have if she constantly had to watch her back? And what about Vera? She was already in trouble when she had arrived at the Jackrabbit; that much was clear to him now. Vinny had only made it worse, and if he hadn’t done it then some other scumbag would have.
Vinny’s eyes rolled in his head. He cursed incoherently.
“Tell me what happened next?” Rascal wasn’t even sure he wanted to know, but he had to find out.
“I gave her another drink with the stuff in it, just like the guy asked me to do. It didn’t seem to affect her all that much, maybe making her a little drunker than she should have been after a couple of drinks. Then the guy joined her at her table, they talked for a few minutes, and they left together.”
“Did she want to leave with him?” Rascal demanded. An idea suddenly occurred to him. “Do you have any kind of security footage?”
“Man, she wasn’t resisting him at all. They just got up and left together. I didn’t even see them getting up from their table; I only saw them as they walked out the door. I realized that she hadn’t ever paid me for her drinks, but I didn’t give two shits after that wad of dough the dude handed me. And no, there’s no footage. We don’t keep cameras in here.” Vinny brought up a hand to wipe the blood that leaked out the corner of his mouth.
“Agh!” Rascal roared in frustration as he slammed Vinny against the wall one more time and let him go. “Did you even think to ask the man’s name?” He was grasping at straws now.
Vinny’s legs wouldn’t hold him, and he slumped to the floor. “Fuck, no. I don’t ask about those sorts of things. Hell, people rarely even pay for their drinks
in anything but cash, just so their spouses don’t know how much they spent on drinks. I don’t know what sort of hang-up you have for this chick, Rascal, but she must really have you fucked up.”
Rascal was ready to show him fucked up. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone and brought up an image from one of the news reports about the cult. “The guy who paid you, was it this man?”
Vinny squinted at the image for a moment and nodded. “I think so.”
“Shit.” That was exactly what Rascal was afraid of. He was no closer to knowing just how or why Vera had gotten away from that crazy compound in South Dakota, but it was clear to him that the leader had followed her here. The news reports were full of his description, making it well-known around the country that he was still a wanted man. Now Rascal just had to figure out what had happened after Roland Briggs had drugged Vera and left the bar with her.
“I just have one more question for you,” he said, holding himself back from landing his knee right in Vinny’s groin. “What was in that vial? It had to be some damn strong stuff for her to forget her entire life.”