I paused as we entered the car park. Travis and Frank stopped with me. “We have to take your car,” I told Travis. “Mines full of boxes.”
His brows flew up. “Boxes?”
I shook my head, not having found the time to haul them over to document destruction yet. “Something to do with Jared nesting.” Travis opened his mouth to speak. I held up a hand. “Don’t even ask.” I turned to Frank. “Give Blackheath Police our vehicle info, too.”
“What about Sherry?” Frank asked as we loaded the back of Travis’s Subaru.
I swiped a hand across my face. “Shit. Ring her. Tell her we have a lead and to remain on standby. If little Janie is there and alive, we want to have Sherry brought in ASAP. If she’s not, we don’t want her there to see anything. See if we can get a chopper pulled in.”
Frank nodded as Travis and I both slid our vests on. “Roger that,” he said, and headed back inside the office.
Fifteen minutes later we were on the M4 and heading towards Sydney’s Blue Mountains, Travis moving swiftly between lunchtime traffic.
When Frank rang, I picked up the phone. “Yeah?”
“Blackheath Police on standby. They’ll be parking an unmarked patrol two houses down from the target residence. Detective Kerr has a team on its way. The mother has been notified. It’s a negative on the chopper at this stage.”
“Thanks, Frank.” I hung up the phone and gave Travis the update.
After shifting gears and changing lanes, he glanced at me. “The unmarked is going to go with our lead?”
“They will if they know what’s good for them. I don’t want them interfering in something we’ve had specialised training to deal with.”
Exhaling heavily, I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, feeling a cold sweat break out across my brow.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, opening my eyes and focusing on the passing scenery. “Just … brings it all back. Every damn time.” Travis glanced across at me again, concern furrowing his brow. “Stop fucking looking at me like that. I’m fine,” I lied, because I wasn’t. I was exhausted. I had the sudden urge to wrap my arms around Grace, bury my face in her neck, and just breathe her in. Five and a half weeks. That was all I had left of her. Taking a deep breath, I emptied my mind and forced a smile for Travis. “This is why we do this job, right?”
“Casey—”
My phone rang then, cutting him off. Thankful for the interruption, I answered without checking the screen. “Yeah?” I barked.
“Casey,” Morgan replied. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. You’re a busy man.”
“Sorry about that. Look, now’s not a good time. We’re—”
“Listen. I’ve got some information for you.” I sat up in my seat, suddenly alert and unable to breathe. “Let’s do dinner. Tonight. It’s been too long since I had my hands on you. We need to remedy that.”
I wanted to repeatedly smash my phone against the dashboard of Travis’s car. Tonight was my night with Grace. It was all I’d thought about since Monday morning.
“Casey?”
“That sounds like a plan, but I’m heading out to an undisclosed location and I don’t think I’ll be back until late tonight.”
“That’s perfect. I’m working late. Come over when you’re done, doesn’t matter how late. I’ll cook.”
“Sure,” I forced myself to say while I scrambled internally. What the fuck else was I supposed to do? She had information I’d been trying to get my hands on for ten damn years. I couldn’t just throw that out the window.
“You don’t step out on women?”
“No. I don’t.”
Shit. Just … shit.
I closed my eyes, rubbing a hand across my brow. I’d do dinner, let Morgan know that whatever this was, it was over, and then hope like fucking hell she was still willing to give me the information anyway. “Thanks. I’ll let you know a time when I have more of an idea.”
“You remember my address?”
“I do,” I replied.
“Great. See you soon, Casey.”
“Later,” I murmured and hung up.
Travis checked his mirrors before returning his gaze to the road. “Who was that?”
“Morgan.” Knowing I may as well get it over with, I added, “She has information.”
His brows flew up as he glanced at me quickly. “She does? Well, fuck. Maybe I overreacted about you and her,” he admitted. “I thought you were chasing a dead end. What information does she have?”
“Don’t know yet. She wants to do dinner tonight.”
After a minute he replied, “Well that’s good, right?”
I sighed deeply and stared unseeing out the window. “Yeah, it’s good.”
Picking up on my flat mood, he frowned. “You do like her, don’t you?”
“She seems okay,” I hedged as I sent a brief text message to Grace, disappointment leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
I can’t make it tonight. Sorry.
A year ago I would have been pumped at finally getting a lead, but now I just felt empty. If this lead turned into a dead end, then I needed to find a way to let go of the past. I couldn’t keep going the way I was because the guilt was killing me.
Grace’s reply came back ten minutes later.
Okay.
That was it. Nothing else. Just … okay. She didn’t even question why. God, she was so fucking beautiful and perfect and I was an asshole. I would see Morgan tonight, have dinner, get the information, and end it there. Whatever happened, I couldn’t keep leading Morgan on, and hurting Grace was out of the question.
I tapped out another message while Travis drove silently beside me.
Reschedule for Thursday night?
She replied instantly.
No can do, Batman. Friday is also out. We have a show.
“Are we doing security for Jamieson this weekend?” I asked.
“I think so,” Travis replied. “Friday night. Nothing Saturday and Sunday. Jared and Coby are taking care of it. Why?”
“Just checking,” I murmured.
I sent a message to Coby.
Take your Friday night security shift?
After reading his reply of “Fuck yeah. Owe you one,” I sent another message to Grace.
I’m doing your Friday night security. Come home with me.
I waited another twenty minutes for her response.
How would I explain that?
The sneaking around had to stop. After Friday night, I was telling Henry, consequences be damned. Grace and I were both adults. She could make her own decisions and he needed to trust that she was safe with me.
I sent a quick reply.
Make something up. I don’t care. I need to see you.
Travis was just turning onto the street Frank had marked out on the map for us when he rang again.
“You have to pull out.”
“What? Why?”
“The elderly couple who own the house? Their nephew is a member of The Sentinels. It looks like the place is used as a safe house. You were right, Casey. Janie’s abduction wasn’t as random as we thought.”
“Janie’s mother said she no longer had ties to the MC.”
Frank gave a weighty sigh. “I guess she lied.”
There could only be one reason why. She was involved with another biker and they were taking care of it. Bikers did not involve police in their business. No exceptions. They handled it within the “family.” I racked my brain trying to think. The kid’s father was a Sentinel, which means even if Sherry no longer had ties to the MC, Janie was theirs. The only reason why Janie would be inside the house of Sentinel was because Sherry had done something to piss them off. But what? Date a rival gang member?
I cursed crudely. “This is part of some goddamn biker war, isn’t it?”
The police were going to shut us down the minute we opened our mouths and said “biker war.” Those situations instantly became a no-fly zone for outside consu
lting firms like ours. Not only because their relationship with the police was volatile, but because no insurance company in the world would take us on for that.
“Goddammit!” I yelled and kicked the dash, not hiding my frustration at being blocked. Two biker gangs were using her as a pawn, and we were right there—the third party who wanted her out of the situation and safe. And our hands were tied.
“I know,” he said, his voice resigned. “Wait up.” When I heard him talking on another phone, I muffled the speaker and updated Travis before Frank came back on. “Kerr’s team is thirty minutes out. Your orders are to vacate the area immediately.”
“There’s a little girl inside that house, Frank. I don’t give a fuck about orders! We’re not going anywhere.”
I looked at Travis. He met my eyes and gave a single nod. After ending the call, Travis drove past the unmarked patrol car and pulled up alongside the kerb another fifteen metres down the road.
Picking up Frank’s report, I searched for the contact information for the neighbouring house on the left. “Bingo,” I muttered when I saw their home phone number listed down.
I started dialling.
After six rings I got a message service saying “You’ve reached the Abbott residence. Sorry we can’t take your call right now. If you’d like to leave your name and—”
I hung up.
“Neighbours aren’t home,” I told Travis. “I’m going through their backyard. Scope out what I can see over their fence. If I don’t get anything, I’ll climb over for a closer look.” I paused. “You cool with that?”
If a child’s life was in immediate danger, we had all agreed we would go against any higher authority, regardless of the damage to our firm’s reputation, to make that child safe. However, we hadn’t been caught up in a situation involving rival motorcycle gangs until now. Falling under their radar could potentially be the worst thing our firm could ever do.
Travis swiped a hand across his face, staring out the window while he processed the situation. After a moment, he glanced sideways and nodded. “I’m cool with that.”
After checking the safety on the handgun, I leaned forward, tucking it into the back of my pants.
“Just scope it out and come back, okay?”
I agreed quickly and after setting my phone to vibrate only, slipped it in my pocket.
I glanced at Travis before opening the car door. “Ring Frank. Tell him to update Jared and Coby on the situation, just in case shit hits the fan.”
After a quick nod, I left Travis to his phone call and strolled casually across the road to the neighbouring house. It was a single-story brick home, similar to every other house in the street. Closed blinds covered the two front windows so I couldn’t catch a glimpse inside. Not wanting to give myself away by scanning the street, I kept my gaze focused on the front door as I walked up the paved pathway. I knocked softly on the metal frame of the screen. After thirty seconds of silence, I tested the handle. Locked. Putting my hands in my pockets, I strolled around the far side of the house. The back gate wasn’t latched properly and I slipped through, relieved to see a thriving green hedge lining the timber fence. It provided good cover from the target house.
Crouching low, I ran alongside the length of the hedge until I found a decent vantage point. Pulling out my phone, I dialled Travis.
“Speak,” he answered.
My eyes scanned the neighbouring lawn. “The backyard is clear.” I shifted my gaze to the house. “All blinds are closed, no gaps. Place looks locked up tight.”
“What do you want to do?”
“What’s the ETA of Kerr’s team?”
“Eight minutes,” he told me.
“I want inside that house, Trav. It’s so fucking quiet. I’m not hearing a thing. If she’s in there on her own, this could be our opportunity to get her out quickly and quietly.”
There was silence on the other end and I knew Travis was thinking hard. “And if she’s not on her own, then we’re escalating a kidnapping into a potentially dangerous hostage situation.”
“And if it was your child in there?”
“I would scale the fence. I wouldn’t even hesitate.”
My voice was grim. “Then I’m going over.”
Keeping Travis on the line, I pocketed the phone and grabbed the top of the timber fence. After levering myself up and over, I hit the ground hard and ran for the back of the house. Heading straight for the back bedroom window, I crouched beneath it.
Fumbling quickly for my phone, I put it to my ear. “I’m over,” I panted. “What do you—”
“Pull the fuck out, Casey!” Travis ordered, his voice low and urgent and I realised why when I heard the rumbling sound getting closer. “At least six biker members just turned down the street and are heading right for you.”
I cursed vehemently. “Sentinels?”
There was a pause and when his voice came back on the line it was filled with dread. “Worse.” Then he named the most violent and savage outlaw biker gang in Australia. “The Black Vipers.”
But it was too late to do anything. The back door of the target house banged open hard, the sound barely audible over the thunderous growl of approaching motorcycles. A man flew outside, vaulting over the three back steps. He was running as soon as his feet hit the ground. For a guy who was built like a brick shithouse, he moved fast. I dropped my phone and ran at the guy. Leaping at him, I took him down in a tackle. The wind was knocked out of me when I landed hard beneath him.
“Where’s the girl?” I gasped.
“Fuck you,” he snarled, pushing off me as he scrambled to his feet. His fist slammed into the side of my head before I could get up properly. My neck snapped back. Jesus. It was like getting hit by a Mack Truck. Disoriented, I still managed to turn and sweep my leg out when he took off for the back fence. He stumbled and went down, landing on his stomach. The sound of gunfire barely registered in my already ringing ears when I straddled his back. Pulling out my handgun, I engaged the slide and pressed it quickly to the back of his head.
“Move and die,” I panted furiously, still winded from the tackle.
It was then that I heard the sound of a little girl screaming. My initial reaction was relief she was still alive until the sound of gunfire cut through the air. The screaming stopped instantly. So did my heart.
Before I could turn around, something flashed in my peripheral vision. I felt something crash into the back of my head and the world went black.
When I came around, Travis’s face came into focus. He was hovering above me, his fingers running over the swelling lump on the back of my head. The tender spot throbbed into a sharp spike of pain. I rolled over and puked in the grass.
“Do that again and I’ll punch you,” I rasped, wiping at my face.
Travis remained abnormally silent as he sat back on his heels. He wiped bloody fingers on his jeans with eyes that were raw and bleak. A small crack began forming inside me, growing wider until my whole body felt ready to shatter.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “She got caught in crossfire. It doesn’t look good for her.”
“No,” I moaned. Rolling onto my back, I put a hand over my eyes. The long, drawn-out wail of a siren hit my ears. “Where is she?”
“Detective Kerr has Janie out the front. That’s the ambulance arriving for her now.”
I tried sitting up and the world tilted. “I need to see her.”
Travis pushed me back down. “The medics have her now. Let them do their job.”
Emotions were running high when we met with Blackheath Police and Detective Kerr and gave our verbal reports. No one yet knew the full story but from we could gather, I was pretty spot on. Sherry was dating a member of the Black Vipers. The Sentinels didn’t take too kindly to that considering it was Viper that shot her old man. The brother of the dead guy, Janie’s Uncle, was the one that kidnapped Janie. The police managed to arrest him along with two bikers from the Vip
ers, and they were all taken in for questioning. The rest had scattered like cockroaches. After being checked over by the medic, our firm was cleared of any wrongdoing, but we were put on notice. If we went against a direct police order one more time, we were done.
The drive back to the office that night was silent.
“You gonna be okay?” Travis asked, keeping the engine idling when he pulled up beside my car.
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. After grabbing my car keys from the centre console, I opened the door and slid out. Sticking my head back in, I muttered, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Our firm had a rule about dealing with on-the-job trauma: you followed routine and returned to work the next day; you surrounded yourself with those who knew what you were feeling; and you spoke up if you weren’t coping. It was the only way that worked for us.
“Tomorrow. Ring if you get any news on Janie’s condition.”
I gave him a brief salute in response because I didn’t want to think about the slim odds of her survival.
It was eleven p.m. when I got inside my own car and started the engine. With eyes that burned from exhaustion, I got out my phone and sent a message to Morgan.
On my way.
I’d spent the past hour tossing and turning in bed, picking up my phone to message Casey and then changing my mind. After seeing John off at the airport earlier, I’d been thinking of nothing else but seeing Casey later that night. The disappointment when he messaged to cancel was enough to see me reaching for the ice cream. What cured sexual frustration—Chunky Monkey or Peanut Butter Fudge? Turns out neither because Henry had eaten both, leaving the empty cartons in the freezer.
I tossed them in the bin, miserable enough to not bother complaining. Who was I kidding anyway? Ice cream was no replacement for Casey and the way he made me feel. Desire for him was a knot inside me, coiling tighter and tighter as each day passed until I was ready to explode. I hadn’t even seen him fully naked yet which was surely some sort of crime. What I had glimpsed was enough to know the man was virile and beautiful. His shoulders were rounded and muscular, his abs tightly defined, and his thigh muscles powerful and strong.
Give Me Grace Page 18