Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6

by Mellett, Manda

  I shrug. “They might be able to pull it off. They were estranged from Connor, it’s not exactly a close relationship. Patsy knows what her ex-husband is and must have been half expecting it. If they don’t shed many tears, won’t be anyone to overly question it.”

  “Too big a risk, Mace. If they believe it’s real, they won’t have to act. Their grief will be genuine.”

  Fuck. Hell’s right. It just goes against the grain to cause those two women such distress.

  Demon looks from me to his father seated at the opposite end of the table. “I agree with Hellfire. I doubt any of us like it, but everyone outside of this room has to think Connor is dead. That includes the ol’ ladies. They can shed a few tears and support Beth. You know what women are like at funerals and weddings.”

  There are murmurs of agreement from all around. I’m nodding my head. Christ, every female had a tissue in their hand at Mel’s wedding to Ro.

  “Are there any whispers about Connor being on the compound?”

  Beef reassures Demon. “All anyone knows is that a Dan Forster is being given refuge for a while. Prospects have been dealing with his food, I’ve kept his door locked when no one’s on guard. Of course they’ve seen Ironside coming and going, but as to who we actually have here, we’ve left them in the dark. The ol’ ladies, they know not to ask questions.”

  Or if they do, they’ll go unanswered, I finish in my head. Then put in, “There’s no reason for Beth to think Connor is here.” And even his sister would be hard put to recognise him.

  The VP reminds us, “Caruso’s back at the end of the week. I’m thinking we’ll set things in motion. In the meantime, we’ll get a funeral organised. When Connor can make contact, he can offer up the drugs and his info in return for Ink’s freedom. Connor must agree to leave Pueblo and have no contact with his family again.”

  “And if Caruso doesn’t buy it?” Lizard asks. “Soon as we admit we know where the drugs are, we put the MC in their sights. I, for one, don’t want to be fuckin’ followed half the time or pulled over to make sure I’m not carrying.”

  “I don’t think that holds an appeal for any of us.” Bomber looks disgusted. “Connor know we’ve got his stash?”

  Beef gives a negative shake of his head. “I’m leaving him to stew for the moment.”

  Prez is thinking. His fingers are at his nose again. Used to his mannerisms, we all look toward him.

  “Okay,” he says at last. “Hell’s made some good points. Whether or not Caruso officially puts Connor in witness protection, he’s better off dead. All we need is to find ourselves a suitable body, and someone to volunteer to break the bad news to his mom and sister.”

  “Hopefully the body will already be dead?” Pyro asks, a half-smile on his face.

  “Rusty, you still got that friend who works in the crematorium?”

  Rusty grins at the prez. “If he hasn’t been arrested for, let’s say, his unusual attention to dead bodies, yet, yes. And sure, I’ll ask if he can look out for a suitable one that won’t be missed.”

  “So, who’s up for visiting the family?”

  No one meets Prez’s eyes.

  Ink’s my fucking brother, he’s often been my right hand. If I trust him to have my back, I’ll not give him a reason to be unable to say the same. This won’t be a pleasant job, but then mine often isn’t. What’s one more black mark on my soul?

  “I’ll do it,” I find myself volunteering. “Reckon it should be someone who found him in that warehouse.”

  “And we’ve left it until today…?”

  Good point. I think for a bit. “We’re not exactly on best terms with Beth. Just telling her on our time, not hers.”

  “Well, don’t leave it much longer. I’ll get onto Dr Ironside, he’ll make sure the paperwork stands up.”

  I wait only for the news there’s a death certificate ready to be collected. I’m the type of person who when there’s something unpleasant to be done, I get right on and do it. By the time I’ve detoured past the doctor’s office, I’m pretty certain Beth will be home from work.

  It’s only a couple of hours later when, minus my cut which I left back at the clubhouse and with a beanie pulled down right down to my eyes and a scarf hiding the lower part of my face, I’m knocking at the front door of Patsy and Beth’s house.

  When I hear footsteps coming to answer it, I carefully school my features.

  “Er, the lady of the house is… Fuck me, Mace? Didn’t recognise you.”

  “You the doorman now, Dirt?” Glancing down I see his Glock held by his side.

  “Ain’t taking any chances. Told them to stay back while I check it out.”

  “Mace? Is there news? About Ink? Or Connor?”

  “Beth,” I acknowledge the woman who’s appeared behind the hangaround. “Patsy around? I want to talk to you both.”

  “She’s upstairs just finishing off some sewing.”

  “Patsy’s fuckin’ good at that shit,” Dirt tells me, admiringly. “Woman’s had some good news. One of the big stores has approached her wanting to use some of her designs for taller women.”

  I’m confused.

  After going to the stairs and yelling for her mother, Beth returns. “Mom took up making my clothes when I couldn’t get any to fit,” she explains, her voice showing she’s proud of the parent who makes her money in legit ways. Totally different from her other.

  Patsy descends the stairs. “You’ve got news?” she’s asking, before she reaches the bottom step.

  “Ink?” Beth queries hopefully. “Has he been released?”

  “No.” I carefully examine her face as I give my one-word answer. I’d have to be blind to miss her pain. It’s been increasingly harder to maintain my animosity toward her having seen the condition of her brother. I’ve also a grudging admiration that she hadn’t wanted to involve the club or specifically Ink, so had taken the task on all by herself. I finally admit it wasn’t her fault he’d been there and got caught.

  As the last vestiges of my ire disappear, I soften my voice. “Can we sit down?”

  “Of course.” Patsy leads the way into the sitting room. “Do you want a beer or something, Mace?”

  “Not at the moment. Thank you.” I take a breath. “There is news, but it’s not what you’re wanting.”

  “Has Ink been hurt?” Beth covers her mouth and seems to stop breathing.

  “This isn’t about Ink. It’s about your brother. Your son, Patsy.”

  Patsy’s face pales at the mention of her errant child. “You’ve found him?”

  There’s no easy way to deliver this. Taking a deep breath, I get it out fast, “I’m very sorry to tell you, but he’s gotten himself killed.”

  “Noooo!” Beth cries out.

  “No,” Patsy says, any remaining colour leaching from her face. “He can’t be. What happened? Why are you saying this?”

  I decide to tell them as much of the truth as I can, easiest way to maintain the deceit. “He didn’t lie to you, Beth. Cad eventually managed to get a fix on where his calls had come from. It was a warehouse outside of Denver. We went to check it out. He’d been, he’d…”

  “They beat him to death?” Beth says what I couldn’t. Then her head drops into her hands, and I hear her quietly sobbing. “It was all for n-n-nothing.”

  Christ. It kills me to see her guilt, but I’m not sure how I can soften it. “You did what you could, Beth. What anyone would have done. You tried to save your brother.”

  “No. He can’t be dead. He’s my son. I’d know it.”

  I don’t think Patsy’s aware that she’s got tears streaming down her face. I spy a box of tissues and pass them over.

  “The last thing I said to him was for him to get out of my house. If…”

  Beth’s hand’s fast holding on to Patsy’s. “He wouldn’t have stayed, Mom. He was too much under Phil’s influence.”

  If only I could tell them the truth, I could admit he’d discovered too much about his and Beth’
s father and wanted out of that life. But in order for our plan to work, to get my brother back riding his bike, I’ve got to harden my heart to their distress and keep on with this charade.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.” I school my features again, this time into an expression of regret.

  “You did the best you could.” Patsy’s comfort in my direction means I’m the one now filled with guilt. “Where is he?”

  “We brought his body back. He’s at the crematorium.” Well, by now I hope a suitable someone’s body is.

  “I want to see him, see for myself.”

  “Sorry, Patsy. It’s best if you don’t. He… he’s not very pretty. He was beaten pretty badly. Keep your memory of him intact so you can remember him as you last saw him, not as he is now.” I’m crossing my fingers hoping I can persuade her.

  “What was the actual cause of death?” Beth seems intent on torturing herself. Her words might be coming out in the right order, but she’s trembling, clearly having trouble holding herself together.

  “Loss of blood from penetrating trauma caused by multiple stab wounds,” I say quickly, as I pass over the right paperwork that they’ll need to arrange the funeral. “I’m so sorry, Patsy, Beth.”

  Patsy reads the death certificate, then puts it down beside her. I notice her hand is violently shaking. “I disowned him when I knew he worked for his father,” she says, her words punctuated by sobs. “Now I just want him back. I should have tried harder to keep him in Pueblo.”

  “Hey.” Leaning forward, I take hold of her hands, trying to still her trembling. “I doubt there was anything you could have done to change how things turned out. He was what, eighteen when he decided he wanted a change of scenery? No talking sense to a man of that age.”

  “I should have tried harder,” Patsy repeats.

  I spare a look for Beth, she’s weeping silently. It’s more disturbing than if she was making a sound. She mumbles something, I struggle to hear it. I ask her to repeat what she just said.

  “I should have gone to the cops. They might have found him sooner. I didn’t.” Beth’s voice at last gets louder. “I didn’t go to them when he called me, nor later because I’d have had to admit we’d been storing drugs. I didn’t want to make it worse for Ink. I sacrificed my brother, and Ink’s still locked up.”

  “You didn’t sacrifice anyone,” I say sharply. “You were not the one to yield the knife. You thought if you did what they asked for, that you’d keep him alive and safe. Not down to you he ended up dead.” I try to make it easier. “If it makes any difference, the men who did this went further than they should.” Which is true. “Killing him was a mistake.” Well it would have been, had they actually done so.

  Hell, I’m an enforcer, not a therapist. I’ve made it worse not better.

  “A mistake? A fucking mistake? My brother’s death was a mistake?” Beth spits out. “You think that makes it any easier?”

  “Who did it?” Patsy asks, suddenly. “Who killed my son?”

  Do I admit her son’s father was there? I decide that might be too much, so limit myself to the information I was told at the time. “A man called Alder.”

  “Alder?”

  “You know him?” I ask sharply.

  “Phil’s brother-in-law.” She stops her sobs long enough to speak through gritted teeth. “If he was in on it, Phil knows about it, those two were always as thick as thieves. My ex-husband killed his son.” Patsy looks like she could commit murder herself.

  Well fuck. I’d tried to spare her that knowledge. “Do you really think he’s capable of that?”

  “Oh God, I don’t know.” She’s crying again. “There could have been a rift between him and Alder. I haven’t had anything to do with him for almost two decades. Perhaps Connor got caught in a dispute between the two of them?”

  I decide to stay dumb. I don’t want to make matters worse, or admit I’d been talking to her son.

  “Do you have anything else to tell us?” Beth looks a mess. Her face is red, her eyes swollen, but she’s casting worried looks toward her mom. “Because if you haven’t, I’d like you to go.”

  “No.” I’m not surprised to be dismissed, Beth and Patsy need to grieve together, and not in front of someone they barely know. I might not want to stay, but feel I’ll be remiss if I don’t offer my brother’s woman support. “Oh, this is the funeral home where he is. If you need help with the arrangements, just let me or Demon know.”

  “The Devils will help?” she says, scornfully. “Connor and I have put Ink in jail, I doubt your club wants anything to do with us. You’d probably rather dance on his grave if Ink gets the maximum sentence.”

  At that moment I wish I could come clean to her. To explain what we’re doing and why. But as her brother is essentially dead to her, and has to remain so to stay alive, there’s nothing else to say.

  “Just go, Mace.”

  I might not have wanted to come. Might not have had a lot of time for the two women. Didn’t know what I expected, thanks for coming out of my way to give them the news? That sounds ridiculous.

  But something doesn’t sit right with me as I ride away from that house. I’ve a feeling I’ve somehow failed Ink.

  Chapter Thirty

  Beth

  “Dirt. Can you give us some space?”

  “Sure. Look, I overheard, okay? I’m fuckin’ sorry for your loss. Of course, you want to grieve without a virtual stranger hanging around.”

  After having him staying in the house for a couple of days now, a stranger isn’t exactly what I’d call him. But he keeps himself to himself, and most of the time, we don’t know he’s there. But I need him out of the way. I don’t want the prospect-hopeful to report back any of the discussion I’m about to have with my mom.

  Dirt walks off and I wait until I’ve heard his footsteps clear the stairs and the door of the guest room where he’s staying close.

  “Why did you dismiss Mace so abruptly, Beth? He may have had more answers to give us.” Mom stuffs her fist into her mouth as though to stop more sobs coming out. I’m angry, she shouldn’t be made to feel this upset.

  “Because Connor’s not dead. Or not yet,” I tell her, starting to pace.

  “What?” Mom shrieks. “What are you talking about, Bethany? Why the hell did that man come and tell us all that if it’s not the truth?” She picks up the paperwork Mace had handed to her and holds it up. “What’s this if it’s not proof that he’s dead?”

  “Doctors can be bought, Mom.” I roll my eyes. “And we got details about how, who and where, and basically instructions to arrange a funeral.”

  “So, what more do you want to be told? Bethany, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but bad as it is, I’m certain it’s true. Connor’s gone…”

  “No, he hasn’t,” I hiss, coming over to sit next to her on the couch. “I don’t know why, or what good it will do, but I think the Devils have got him. Maybe to use as a bargaining chip to get Ink out of jail or something.”

  Mom stills. Her brow creases. Then she reminds me as if talking to herself, “They did take the eight kilos of drugs. Maybe it’s too tempting. Would they use Connor to get more? Maybe they deserve their reputation. Just who are we dealing with, Bethany? Do you really think he could be alive?” There’s a spark of interest showing through her grief. God, I pray I’m not making her hope for nothing. “The Devils aren’t known for running drugs, but I suppose that much falling into their laps could be hard to resist,” she continues.

  “No, Mom. Do you think Mel would stay with Pyro if they got into that type of business?” I watch as she blots at her eyes, but only to mop up what leaked out previously. There’re no fresh tears falling now, so that’s a start. “I think it’s more likely they’ve got a plan to use Connor to get Ink released.” From what I’ve seen of the Devils, they’d do anything to protect or help one of their own.

  “How?” she reasonably asks.

  “I don’t know.” I hadn’t thoug
ht that far. “What if they forced him to say he was the one delivering the drugs, not Ink?”

  “But Ink was caught with the drugs on him. What difference would that make? And why make us believe he’s dead and ask us to arrange a funeral?”

  “I don’t know,” I repeat, almost as a wail. “But there must be something.”

  Mom just looks more confused.

  “He’s alive, Mom, I feel it. Why else would Mace suggest we wouldn’t want to view the body?”

  Mom stands, her hand pressing down on the arm of the sofa to provide leverage. Mace’s visit had caused her to age twenty years in the same number of minutes. She crosses the room unsteadily to get to her purse and takes out her phone. When I go to ask her who she’s calling, she waves me down.

  She taps on the screen for a moment, scrolls up and down, and then selects a number.

  “Phil?”

  Oh my God. She’s ringing my sperm donor.

  “Yeah, it’s Patsy… Yeah. A long time… Cut the crap. I’ve just been told my son is dead…”

  “What do you mean you heard that as well?”

  “His body was taken by persons unknown? So his mom and sister could bury him?”

  My eyes widen throughout what I can hear of her side of the conversation. It sounds like someone’s told exactly the same story to my dad.

  “How did he get hurt? Alder’s name was mentioned…”

  “He’s gone rogue? What the hell does that mean?”

  Mom turns her eyes on me. “Could always tell when you were lying, Phil. So, tell me straight. Did you tell Connor to leave drugs in my house?” She pulls the phone away from her ear and even from the other side of the room I can hear a voice blustering. “No, they’re not here now. No, I don’t know where they are or who’s got them…. I’m ending this call now.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t turn up to the funeral…”

  “Well of course I fucking am. I’m off to the funeral home tomorrow morning.”

  “No, I won’t tell you which one. I’m burying a son because he became involved with you and your business.”