Even though I wanted to stay on the hunt, not guzzle beer with the guys at the lake, I had a feeling my boss wouldn’t see it my way. Friday afternoon I pulled into a diner I liked and sat at the counter before dialing him. Rebel had started the Brotherhood Bonds two years ago and now he and his wife ran five bail bonds offices in Oklahoma and Texas.
The phone rang four times before Rebel picked up. “Yeah?”
“Got a sitch up here in the city.” I needed to bring the punk kid in before I owed someone else money. “That Logan kid I bailed out on assault is the one doing the bank robberies up here—now he’s killed someone.”
“So grab his ass and throw him back in jail.” Rebel spoke to someone at the office.
“My plan, boss man, but he’s hiding out, so I’m not going to make it to the lake this weekend.” I waited for Rebel’s reaction. I was supposed to be the leader of the poker run at the lake, and if I bailed then Rebel would be stuck doing it.
“That’s a problem,” Rebel grunted. “How much was the bond?”
“Forty large, we lose it all if he rabbits.” I hated losing even a dollar if my name was on the bond.
“Fuck that, unless you have them cornered, leave a prospect up there and get your ass to the lake. You got responsibilities here.”
I couldn’t blame Rebel. Elle was becoming his old lady this weekend. “Got it, boss man, but if I get a lead, I’m not coming back.”
“Fine,” he grunted. “But Delta’s doing the fucking poker run if you don’t show.”
My best friend since high school, Delta was my opposite, even though we’d been in step every day since our freshman year of high school. He’d followed me to the Marines and I’d followed him to the Brotherhood—neither of us regretted those decisions. But he wasn’t the friendly or talkative sort, so he’d try and take it out of my hide if I dumped the poker run on him. Hell, he was the first person I’d pick in a fight but the last one to be the face of the Brotherhood.
“Got it,” I grumbled, knowing I wouldn’t stick Delta with that duty unless I was desperate. Even then, he’d probably convince me to let him go after the Logan kid.
I headed to River Street and a tavern where the two had been spotted a week ago. My computer guy figured out that the bartender there was related to Deidre Logan, and I planned to extract any information he had one way or another. I parked my bike in front of the run-down cinder block building. The plate glass window said ick’s Bar. The painted R had gone missing. A grungy Bud Light sign hung lopsided in a corner. I swung open the heavy wooden door and walked into the dark interior. The smell of sour beer hit me first. Then my eyes adjusted to see the overweight bartender—the cousin, according to my sources—and an old guy sitting across from him on a bar stool. No one else dared the seedy place even on a Friday night. How the hell did they stay in business?
“You should go.” I let my hand fall to the old guy’s shoulder.
With a quick nod, he slid from the stool and hurried out the door.
“We need to have a talk.” I leaned forward but the bartender scuttled back, going for something I couldn’t see.
I used the beat-up bar stool to launch across the bar, landing in front of the wide-eyed kid. He dropped the bat he’d started to grab and held his palms out to me.
“I don’t even know you, dude.” His beady eyes flicked left and right, looking for a way out but there wasn’t one.
“I’m JoJo, and I’m looking for Deidre.” I stepped closer.
“Ain’t seen my cousin in a year.” He sputtered as he backed away from me.
I stepped forward and punched his cheek with a quick right cross, then jacked his chin with an upper cut. He fell back on his ass.
“Now, you keep lying and you’re going to need the ER. Is she worth the pain and trouble?”
The guy’s double chin quivered, then he shook his head.
“I know they were here a week ago. I need a phone number, other hangouts.” I glared down at him. “You will tell me everything you know—the easy way or the hard way.”
He pulled himself up, using the back of the bar. “The easy way, I won’t lie again.” He reached shaking hands into his pocket. “Her number is here, but when I called, it went to voicemail.”
I wrote down the number. “Her home address?” I hoped to get enough details to get our skip tracer on their trail.
He rattled off an address outside the city. I added it to the sheet in the pocket notepad I carried with me. “Where’d she work before this?”
“Uh, she’s never worked really. Always had some guy taking care of her.”
“Where does she hang out?”
“Loves Bricktown but I know they won’t be there. When they stopped by she said they were hiding out in someplace no one would ever find them.” He shrugged.
“What about a ride?” I knew they stole cars and usually fast ones, but maybe she had a car.
“She drives an old Chevy—it’s at her mom’s place—but they were in some fancy car. I dunno what kind.”
“Where do you think they are? Just guessing?” I studied him, looking for signs he was lying.
“Man, I think south of the city, but I have no clue. If they were north, why drive all the way here for some beer?” He wiped hands on his faded jeans.
“Where did they get married?” I needed more leads.
He gulped and looked away. This wasn’t the time for him to grow a spine.
“Uh...my dad’s a minister, he married them in his church a month ago. Now, he’s super pissed they ‘fouled his church,’ rants about that shit all the time.” He gulped. “She has a sister—well, half sister—dunno if anyone told the cops.”
This sounded promising.
“She lives in Norman, those two are close.” Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Her name and address.”
“Sophie Liva, and I dunno her address—she’s always shacking up with some dude—but here’s her number.” He pulled it up on his phone with shaky hands.
I wrote it down.
“Thanks.” I gave him a two-finger salute. “Better ice that lip.” I walked out and called a prospect to spend the weekend in Norman looking for Sophie while I went to the goddam lake. Hopefully this or one of the other lines I’d cast would end up with a solid lead. The Logans had played me, and no one got away with that.
* * *
Despite the warm spring wind and bright sun shining on me, I was still in a shit mood. The Logans hadn’t surfaced, and the last thing I wanted was to party. I needed to track the assholes down before someone else did.
I sped down the interstate, well over the legal limit, pulling off at the Ardmore exit. I needed to grab gear at my place before I headed to the lake. I pulled down the street where Delta and I lived in a duplex the Brotherhood owned. We rented the other half to one of the workers at our sex club in town. Delta’s bike sat in the driveway. A surprise, since our club had left for the lake three hours ago.
“I’m home,” I yelled as I shut the door behind me.
Delta stepped out of the hallway, his duffel in hand. “You catch the kid who rabbited?”
We’d talked about the Logans last night, and he’d threatened me with a beating if he had to lead the poker run. Apparently our boss hadn’t trusted me to show without additional encouragement from my best friend.
“A couple leads but I got a guy on it. Why are you here?”
“Bonded out one of the strippers from the sex club, so I missed the procession.” He grinned. “She was extra thankful.”
Delta never lacked for female company. The broody ass attracted the honeys despite his bad moods.
“I bet. I met this detective working on the Logan case—sexy with attitude. I might look her up after I catch the bastard.” Right now I only had time for the hunt.
“You hear of multitasking
? Why do you go all monkish when you’re on a case?” Delta grabbed his leather jacket from the hall closet.
“Just the way I’m built. I could have had Mallory the other night.” I’d gone out with her once and her suggestive text made it clear she was up for more. She’d been fine, but nothing worth repeating.
“Do I know your new girl?” Delta punched my shoulder. “I can tell you got it for her.”
“Do not.” Did I? She’d flitted through my thoughts a couple times, but I wasn’t obsessed. “Charlie Pine. She works for Danvers.” I thought I’d known all his detectives but I hadn’t met Brie or Charlie. Danvers was the Major Crimes captain and he’d served with me and Delta in the military police—in fact, he’d been our commander for three years. The three of us had come to Oklahoma together, but Danvers refused to join the club with us. Uptight bastard that he was.
“Then she’s good at her job. You could just let her take care of your fuckup.” Delta took too much pleasure in fucking with me.
I flipped him the bird. “Give me ten and we can ride to the lake together.”
I hurried into my room and threw a change of clothes into my duffel. My room wasn’t much different from when I was in the Marines. Bigger bed but the room held little in the way of personal touches—a dresser and bedside table with a king-size bed. My bed wasn’t made and it still bugged me even though I didn’t give in to the Marine programming and make it. I pulled my jacket from the closet and headed out.
We sped down the interstate, shaving a half hour off the drive to Lake Texoma. We pulled into the cabin as the sun set. Inside several guys were playing cards in the big living room. Off that was a galley kitchen and down the hall were five tiny bedrooms—tight quarters, but it beat camping.
“Deal me in.” Delta pulled up a chair. “You in?” He was crafty at cards, any kind of gambling actually. He made it out to Vegas five or six times a year because he loved the thrill of the big cash games.
“Nah, I’m going to fish.”
“You got poles here?” West threw his cards on the table. “I’m out.”
Even here, I was stuck with the kid. I never escaped babysitting duty. The boss had stuck me with training the bounty hunting prospects.
If he talked, I’d throw him in the lake. Tomorrow I’d be talking too goddam much as I led the poker run. I didn’t mind the job that much because it raised cash for runaways—I’d picked the charity. Laney, my sister, had run away and ended up dead. Maybe if she’d had a place to run to then the outcome would have been different.
West and I sat out on the newly painted wooden dock and cast in our fishing poles. I slapped a mosquito and thought about going in for spray, but didn’t. A cool breeze blew the scent of soil and water past me. I relaxed as the quiet sounds of crickets and distant boats made me feel at home. We spent a quiet hour feeding the damn fish because we didn’t catch a single one.
“I’m surprised you came. Did you catch Archer Logan?”
Just what I didn’t want to discuss. “Not yet. Got a guy watching out for him.”
“It’s just a few thousand, why do you care?”
I thought I’d trained the kid better than that. “Just when I think you’re growing up, you go and be stupid. Every dollar of the 40K is club money. To lose a single dollar is unacceptable. That chick sold me a sob story and I bought it. Now I’ve got to redeem myself.”
“Rebel take it out of your hide?” West joked, alluding to the story I’d spread that Rebel liked whipping prospects who fucked up.
“This is about me. I don’t lose money, I make it.” I pointed at him. “Say the police catch him, or another bounty hunter does, then I’m out ten percent—I’ve never lost money on someone I bonded and I’m not starting with this prick.”
West nodded. “Okay, I get that. Then why come here?”
“Not optional. I might not be everyone’s bitch, like you. But I have responsibilities.” And that pissed me off. I hated being pulled off the trail when I chased bad guys, always had. It was something that the brass and I had disagreed about when I was in the Marines.
Delta wandered out as a chill settled on the water. “You know your cop is down here.”
“Who?”
“Charlie Pine, she came down with Tom Fisher and his girl, Brie. He texted me, they’re camping two coves over, with fucking tents.” Both Delta and I had spent way too much time outside in Marine-issued tents—no need for that shit now. “They want to get in on the poker run.”
Charlie was hot and just my kind of girl with those round hips and sassy blue eyes. I’d liked her just fine but she gave me the cold shoulder—some cops just didn’t like bikers or bounty hunters.
“I’ll stop by in the morning.” I reeled in my line.
Delta didn’t say anything, but he rarely did.
“What up, inside?” I nodded toward the cabin.
“Not much—most everyone paired up.”
“Ah, and you wanted me, I’m touched.”
Delta smacked the back of my head before he sat down on the dock and handed me a beer. “You want one, kid?”
“Nah, I don’t want to cock block you.” West stood. “You two aren’t my type.”
Throwing the beer can in his hand, Delta clocked West in the head and beer spewed out and down the prospect’s back.
“I feel so used.” West laughed and hauled ass into the cabin before Delta reloaded.
We sat in the silent night as time ticked by, neither one of us talking.
“No one spotted the Logans, that’s unusual.” Delta sipped his microbrew. “I put up five Franklins for good intel, and I’ve heard zip. Can’t believe I fucked up like this—bonding some spree killer, most likely.” I’d catch him, though.
“Maybe you’ve grown soft, old man.” Delta rabbit-punched my arm.
I tipped back my beer and drained it. “If I get a lead, I’m bailing and you’ll get stuck leading the poker run.”
“Ah, hell to the no.” Delta growled. “I’ll go north, I don’t do people.”
“Not what I heard the other night—you were doing something with your bed hitting the fucking wall all night.”
“Knew you were a perv.”
“And?”
Delta just laughed and stood. “You can watch tonight, if you can’t find your own girl.” He scooped up the six ring and empty cans.
“I’ll never be that desperate.” But a willing woman wasn’t what I wanted tonight. I wanted answers. I sat in the dark and stared at the moonlight rippling across the lake, wondering where in the hell my fugitives were and how I’d bring them in.
Chapter Three
Charlie
Camping hadn’t improved in the ten years since I’d last pitched a tent. In fact, I woke up groggy and grouchy, having tossed and turned in my too-hot then too-cold tent. I didn’t understand the appeal. Brie and Tom already sat around the campfire with coffee in hand. The other three guys hadn’t crawled out of their tents yet. I bet Brie would try and set me up with one of them before the weekend was out, but she’d be disappointed. I didn’t want a man. Men were unreliable heartbreakers.
My mom and dad had a terrific relationship, which made it all the more important for me to do it right, not get stuck with a loser. Besides, I’d already found and lost my one true love, and I didn’t believe I’d be lucky enough or stupid enough to find a second.
“I slept so well, nothing like the outdoors.” Brie said this with a straight face.
“It’s lumpy, bumpy and always the wrong temperature,” I groused. “But I survived the night, only one more to go.”
Tom grinned at me. “So you’re not a convert.”
“Not even a little. But I love the water, always have. We should’ve shelled out the cash for cabins.”
“Then you should hook up with one of the brothers.” Tom winked at me. “The
bikers have almost all the cabins rented out for the weekend, in addition to the ones they own. The Jericho Brotherhood is hosting a poker run and after-party.”
“We’re thinking about doing the poker run. You in?” Brie smiled at me.
“Is it like a 10K?” I didn’t have a clue about poker runs.
Tom laughed. “No, lots more booze, lot less PT.”
I frowned at the two of them.
“There are five stops, and you get a card at each stop. The people or person with the best hand at the end wins cash,” Tom explained.
“Yeah and the proceeds go to help Hope House, the runaway shelter up home,” Brie added.
“Normally you go from place to place on bike, but the Brotherhood organized this one so you can go by boat,” Tom added.
Those bikers again. Maybe I’d get lucky and not run into Marcone.
“That’s what we’re going to do, but we gotta pay the entry fee. So you in?” Tom and Brie both waited for my answer.
“On a boat? Then hell yeah.” That was why I was here, and that I lost the bet.
“I’ll text JoJo, he’s running the thing.” Tom typed out a quick message on his phone.
So much for avoiding him. “So you know Marcone too?” The guy knew everyone.
“Yeah, I know several of the guys in the club. They’re quick to take action if anyone’s moving drugs in their area. Sometimes that means tips to us.” Tom frowned at me. “You got a thing for him?”
“She should have.” Brie waggled her eyebrows.
“No,” I said at the same time.
The others emerged from their tents a little later. They were cops who worked with Tom on the drug taskforce. I’d met them all before but hadn’t spent any real time with them, and I didn’t really want to, but this whole weekend was one thing after another that I didn’t want to do.
Deciding to take a walk, I exchanged my boat shoes for hiking boots and headed off to do some exploring. The tall trees that lined the hiking path created a dappled shadow that comforted me. I’d spent a lot of time walking off my emotions since Jensen died. I could walk to the sun and back and still not rid myself of the regret and anger.
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