Deputy Dalton follows me in a few moments later. “Argos didn’t realize you had your gun tucked into the waistband at the back of you. She thought you were stupid enough to face them unarmed. I think you surprised her.”
I pull the gun out and put my holster on, slipping it back into its compartment. I’m not stupid enough to face the Savage Angels without backup, but I’m not dumb enough to walk out there guns blazing with a dozen of them looking for blood.
I sigh. “Fuck the FBI and fuck Argos. I’ll see you tomorrow. My cell is on if you need me.”
Lucy nods. “Sheriff, if it’s not Zeke, who is it? He was at the restaurant.”
I frown and look at the top of the desk littered with information about the cases.
“I don’t know. If it were Zeke, I think he would have started killing when he moved to town, not waited five years and picked it up again. And besides, he’s too close to Kade. He’d know if Zeke weren’t right, and I’m pretty sure he’d put him down.”
“What if he’s a part of it?”
I look up at her sharply and shake my head. “Not possible. Destiny would know something was up. Kade looked after her like she was made of glass after her assault. If he were in on it with Zeke, he wouldn’t have cared for her the way he did… does.”
I walk toward the front of the building. “Call in the other deputies. Make sure there’s three of you on at all times. Don’t take any chances and look out for each other.”
“Sheriff, you make it sound like you’re not coming back.”
“I’m taking the day off, but I need to see about a few things. I’ll let you know. Keep an eye on the FBI and call me if you need anything.”
Lucy’s face looks thoughtful, but she nods. Thankfully, all the Savage Angels have left, and I can get into my cruiser without having to listen to them.
Right now, I want to get to Izzy.
I’m too angry to see my girl, so I go home and shower first. The water does little to soothe my soul. I dress quickly and text Izzy to see where she is.
Carlos: Babe, where are you?
Izzy: At the hall.
Carlos: See you soon.
I make the short drive to her new business premises. They have already begun to paint the outside a bright red. It sure does stand out. There are a few men standing around with signage for the business. I nod at them as I make my way inside. Izzy is on the phone at the far end of the hall. I walk toward her, and she holds up a finger to indicate she won’t be long, a frown furrows her brow.
I pick up a paintbrush and paint the inside of the hall. From the looks of it, the old hall has been painted numerous times over the years, and it seems as though they are only going to paint the section near the front where their counter will be. The rest is either untreated wood or peeling paint. I’m absorbed in what I’m doing when Izzy clears her voice.
“Hey.”
I put down the brush and go to embrace her, but Izzy takes two steps back.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips.
“Did you arrest Zeke?”
I sigh and look up at the ceiling, eventually bringing my gaze back to her. “It wasn’t my call, but yes, I was there.”
“He couldn’t have done those things,” replies Izzy in an icy tone.
“Izzy, this is my job. I may not like it sometimes, but it’s the way things go.”
“It’s the way things go? You arrest an innocent man to appease some federal agent?”
“They have jurisdiction. I don’t get much of a say.”
Izzy copies my stance, hands on her hips, but her expression is far from friendly.
“Did you try?”
“I don’t want to talk about this with you. It’s work, and I can’t discuss it with you, anyway. Can we start over? Can we not talk about Zeke?”
Izzy looks down at the floor, a few strands of hair have escaped her ponytail and fall in front of her face. Her mouth is all scrunched up and to the side as though she’s thinking about what I have said. “No.”
I rock back on my heels. “No?”
“I’m sorry, Carlos. Zeke is my friend, and if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even be in Tourmaline. The MC took me in, they’ve taken care of me. Hell, I live with Dane and Kat.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Izzy shakes her head. “For fuck’s sake, Izzy,” I yell. “Do you think I believe Zeke is the one doing all of this? Did he tell you, I left the room? I didn’t have a fucking choice!”
Izzy retreats further from me and wraps her arms around herself. Her silence speaks volumes. She doesn’t trust me. I’m angry, I’m frustrated with the FBI, and now my girl is dumping me.
I stand there for a moment longer staring at her, wanting her to understand but at the same time, I’m angry. She doesn’t have my back. With a curt nod, I turn and stalk out of the hall. Hoping the entire trek back to my cruiser that she’ll call out to me, but she doesn’t.
The key turns in the ignition, and the car comes to life. I slam it into reverse and accelerate away from Izzy in a cloud of blue smoke.
It has been two days since Izzy and I had words, and it’s been two days of hell. No calls, no texts, no nothing. I haven’t been back into work. I heard Zeke passed his polygraph with flying colors. It’s a funny thing, the FBI like you to do polygraphs and if you fail, they rub it in your face as a way to prove your guilt, but if you pass, it’s not admissible in court, so it makes no difference to them. I’m in Pearl County at the Red Barn Bar. It’s a big place, split up into sections. When you walk in, there’s a bar area with a few tables and chairs next to that, a huge space for dancing with a stage for a band at one end and at the other is a large bar. On the other side of this is the restaurant with a smaller bar and an area to sell merchandise.
It’s only eleven o’clock in the morning with not many people are around. I nod at the barmaid at the first bar and make my way over to the restaurant area. They have booths that give that private feel. I sit in the one at the very back corner. I throw my hat on the seat and wait, and within about a minute, a waitress appears.
“Hey, Sheriff, what can I get you?”
“A pitcher of beer, whatever you think is good on tap. A shot of whiskey. And the biggest steak with fries you’ve got.”
The waitress writes it down and eyes me cheekily. “You dining alone, Sheriff?”
“My name’s Carlos and yes.”
“You sure you want a pitcher?” I nod. “Okay, and would you like something to start?”
“Besides the whiskey?”
“Bad day, huh? I’ll bring you some bread on the house.”
With that, she walks away. I pull out my cell, hoping Izzy has texted me, but there’s nothing. I place it on the table, face down. I’m annoyed, bent out of shape, and generally in a bad mood. That’s when my phone begins to ring. I turn it over and see that it’s Wilson Blackbear. I hit dismiss call and throw it back on the tabletop. Within seconds, it begins to ring again. It’s Wilson nonstop. I do the same thing and dismiss it. But the man must have a bug up his ass as he calls me again.
“What?” I snarl into the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Sitting in my office enjoying the show. What do you want?” I reply curtly.
“I need to talk to you. And I was in your office, you’re not there.”
“So fucking talk, Wilson,” I hiss.
“Okay, Carlos, I can understand why you’re fighting mad but arresting that biker wasn’t my idea. I was kept out of the loop. Had they asked for my opinion, I’d have told them it wasn’t him. I’ve just spent some time in a dingy, dark mine in bum-fuck-nowhere, and I think I’ve got a lead.”
“They sent you to Black Ridge?”
“Yeah, what else do you do with the angry FBI agent? You transfer him as far away as possible, so you don’t have to deal with him,” replies Wilson sarcastically.
“Right now, Wilson, I’m not interested. If the FBI wants to run this case, they can run it.
I want to be left alone.”
“It’s not like you just to give up.”
“Welcome to the new me,” I reply as I hit end call.
The waitress returns with my complimentary bread and the whiskey. I throw back the amber liquid and manage not to cough as it burns its way down my throat.
“Another,” I demand.
“Eat the bread, Sheriff,” she mumbles as she collects my empty glass and walks away.
For something to do, I eat the damn bread. At first, I pick at it, and before I realize what I’ve done, I’ve eaten the whole basket. That’s when my waitress appears with my pitcher and another shot.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And I’m glad you ate the bread.”
“I aim to please.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Carlos, you’ve lived around these parts for years. Not once have I seen you drink more than a beer, and you’re normally not alone. You want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
“Fair enough but just so you know… if I think you’ve had too much to drink, Sheriff, I’ll be taking your keys.”
I scowl at her, but I know she’s doing the right thing. She shakes her head at me, smiles, and walks away.
I down the whiskey. This time it doesn’t burn quite as much, and I pour myself a glass of beer. I am not a beer drinker. Hell, I’m not a drinker of anything. Growing up in a home with an alcoholic will send you one of two ways—you become an alcoholic or you avoid the stuff. As a rule, I have a glass and cut myself off but not today.
I’m sipping my beer when she comes back with a huge plate of rib-eye steak. It’s so big the fries are in a separate bowl.
“Thanks.”
She smiles at me and walks away. I follow her with my eyes, and that’s when I see Special Agent Wilson Blackbear. Trying to ignore him, I look at my meal and begin cutting into the steak. It’s not long before Wilson sits opposite me in the booth.
“Drinking during the day?”
“I was given the day off.” I cut another piece of steak and put it in my mouth.
“Want to talk about it?” I put down my knife and fork, steeple my fingers and stare at him. “What?”
“You’ve treated me like something stuck to the bottom of your boot for weeks, and now you want to be all friendly with me? Fuck off, Wilson.”
He nods, and absently, he rubs the scar on his cheek. “I’ve been a dick.”
“Is that a question or a confession?”
Wilson picks up one of my fries and eats it. “I’ve been hard on you.”
“Wilson, tell me something I don’t know.”
He nods and smiles, ruefully. “Do you know what happened to me in LA after you left?”
“I rang Doug Price to find out the story. You should have asked me, Wilson. I had nothing to do with that. Not a fucking thing. I left LA not because I was dirty. I left as I could no longer tell the difference between the good and the bad. Everyone was tainted with the same brush. I was burned out and angry. I felt like every bad guy I pulled off the street another ten took their place. Tourmaline was just a job, a way to pay the bills, but it’s so much more than that now. It’s home.”
Wilson nods and takes another fry. I continue eating my steak, and for a while, we sit together, neither wanting to talk.
The waitress comes to the table. “Okay, another steak and a soda water. Enjoy!” She places the plates in front of Wilson and saunters away.
“The food here any good?” asks Wilson.
“Yeah, it’s okay. Bar food, but it’s always hot and tasty.”
Again we fall into silence. I keep eating my steak and sipping my beer, all the time wondering what the hell Wilson wants.
“I hoped you didn’t have anything to do with what happened to me.” I look at him sharply. “And you’re right, I should have asked you. That whole fiasco stunted my career within the FBI and messed with me emotionally.”
I take a deep breath. I can see he’s trying to connect with me, and I want to give him some slack, but part of me wants to torture him for a while longer.
“I’m trying here, Carlos. I can tell by your passion and the fact you’re drinking by yourself that you care about this town and want this psycho caught.”
“Psycho? That’s not very FBI of you.”
Wilson chuckles. “Well, you’ve been living in the middle of nowhere. I’m trying to dumb it down for you.”
I smirk at him and nod. “Fair enough.” I take another sip of beer. “So, you don’t think it was Zeke?”
“No, I think the unsub wants us to think it was him. Whoever it is, you two have this guy in common. You both need to work together to figure this out.”
I scoff and pick up a fry. “I’ve lost that relationship. There’s no way he’s going to have a sit-down with me now.” I chew on the fry. “Courtesy of the FBI.”
“You need to try.”
I glance at Wilson and shake my head. “I’ve always had a tenuous relationship with the MC. By arresting Zeke, they’ll see it as a betrayal. There’s no way in hell they’re going to talk to me.”
“I’ll come with you.”
I laugh and grin at him. “They won’t care.”
“They’ll care. It seems Zeke’s woman has gone missing.”
My gut suddenly feels like it’s gone to stone. I begin to slide out of the booth. “Why the fuck didn’t you open with that?”
Wilson takes another bite of his steak, seemingly unfazed by his admission. “I thought we needed to clear the air and besides, she’s fine.”
This stops me in my tracks. “How the fuck do you know that?”
“She’s shopping here in Pearl County.”
“Wilson?” I say testily.
“Her cell phone is turned off. After the fiasco back in Tourmaline, I’m guessing she wanted some retail therapy.”
I’m baffled. I slump back into the booth and glare at him. He takes another bite of his meal, sips his drink, and wipes his mouth.
“The call came in over the radio not ten minutes ago. The thing is, I followed her here to Pearl County. I have no idea why they think she’s missing. There was no one in her car, and she wasn’t in duress when she got here. Cassia Lee got out of her car at the mall.”
“Have you phoned it in?”
Wilson shakes his head. “Not yet. I thought if you phoned her boyfriend, it’d go a long way to you repairing the relationship with the MC.”
“Come on, Wilson, finish up. You can drive me to the mall, and when we find Cassia, I’ll get her to call Zeke.”
Wilson shrugs, takes one more bite of his meal, and gets up. “We square?”
“Not by a long fucking shot. Let’s go.”
We find Cassia sitting in a coffee shop eating pie and reading a book. Both of us sit at her table, and she looks up at me with a scowl.
“What do you want, Sheriff?”
“You need to ring Zeke. They think you’re missing.”
Cassia fumbles around in her bag and pulls out her cell. “Shit, it’s dead.” She looks at me from under her lashes. “May I please use your phone?”
I unlock my phone and hand it over without saying a word.
“No, Zeke, it’s not Carlos, it’s me, Cassia.” I watch as she nods her head. “No, I’m fine. My phone’s dead. I’m sorry, I—” Cassia glances at me and chews on her bottom lip. “Yes, he’s here. Hang on.” Cassia hands my phone back to me. “Could you please tell him I’m okay?”
I nod. “Zeke?”
“What the fuck are you doing with my woman?”
“It’s not like that. The call came in over the radio, and we knew she was here in Pearl County, so we tracked her down.”
“We?” demands Zeke.
“I’m here with Special Agent Wilson Blackbear.”
“Is she safe?”
“Perfectly. Cassia is sitting here eating pie, reading, and drinking a coffee.” I glance at her and smile. “And I’m thinking with all the shoppi
ng bags around her, she came here to unwind. Would you like me to accompany her back?” I can hear his intake of breath. I’m the last person he wants to see. “Zeke?”
“Yes.”
The line goes dead, and I put my cell back in my pocket.
“Are you about done?” Cassia nods. “Would you mind giving me a ride back to Tourmaline?”
“Did Zeke ask you to look after me?”
“Not really, but you’d be doing me a favor. I’ve had a couple of drinks and don’t want to drive.”
Cassia nods and stands. I bend down and pick up all her bags. She stands there eyeing me but says nothing.
“Wilson, can you follow us back?”
“Sure, Sheriff. Ma’am, drive careful.” He nods at Cassia and goes back toward his car.
“I was under the impression you didn’t like him.”
I smile at Cassia. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, you can fill me in on the way home.”
Carlos
The drive back to Tourmaline is filled with tension. Cassia is eerily quiet. Most women find the need for small talk but not her, or at least, not today. The only sign she’s upset is her hands on the steering wheel—her knuckles are white as she grips hold tightly.
“I don’t think Zeke is mad at you.”
Cassia glances at me and scoffs. “No. I’m not the one he’s mad at.”
“That supposed to mean something to me?”
“You know for a smart man, you sure are stupid.”
“Maybe you should spell it out for me.”
One of her hands flies into the air as she shakes her head. “Fine! You arrested my fiancé, split up with Izzy, and now you’re drinking during the day. What kind of sheriff are you? Better yet, what kind of man are you?” She’s babbling and glances at me a few times. The anger is coming off Cassia in waves.
“I didn’t arrest Zeke, that was the FBI. I told them he wasn’t good for it, but they didn’t listen. Izzy broke up with me, and I decided to take a few days off. So, yes, I’ve had a drink or two. I’m allowed to have a life, Cass.”
Savage Life Page 11