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Musgrove smiled and waved at the bartender. “We identified the victim.”
Scarlett slid a glance at Jim. “Who is he?”
“Name’s Jeff Kelly, goes by the name of Rusty. He’s fifty-one years old and a member of the Lords of Chaos motorcycle gang.”
“Club.”
“Excuse me?” Musgrove cocked his head, his eyebrows colliding over his nose.
“They prefer to be called a club—the Lords of Chaos Motorcycle Club.”
“And how exactly do you know that, Kennedy?”
“Because I was a member—and I knew Rusty.”
Chapter Five
Scarlett grabbed the edge of the bar—LC. So, those letters stood for Lords of Chaos. She vaguely remembered a bunch of motorcycle-riding tough guys hanging around town, usually with Jim’s father and brother. She never realized they were an actual motorcycle gang and that Jim had belonged to it. That explained the tattoo. Explained a lot of other things.
At least he’d owned up to it, but why’d he wait? Why didn’t he mention the tattoo earlier, even if he didn’t recognize Rusty?
Musgrove must’ve had the same thought since he fished in his front pocket and asked, “You didn’t recognize him last night?”
Jim shrugged. “It was dark. It’s been over ten years since I last saw him.”
“Have you seen any other members of the...club since you’ve been back in Timberline?”
“Look, Musgrove. If you want to question me further, can we do it more formally at the station?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “We’re attracting attention.”
“Technically, it’s not even our case anymore, but I’ll give your name to Deputy Collins. He’s heading up the investigation for the county’s homicide division.”
“You do that.” Jim grabbed a cocktail napkin and a pen and wrote out his phone number. “Have him give me a call. I can’t tell him much. I didn’t even realize Rusty was still here. As far as I know, the club doesn’t operate in this area anymore.”
Musgrove hunched forward. “Is it true the Lords of Chaos were involved in the drug trade here in Timberline?”
“Didn’t know much about their business, didn’t want to know. I was a teenager and got out when I could.”
Musgrove tugged on his earlobe. “Didn’t Gary Binder hang out with the club?”
“Gary?” Jim pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Nah, kind of a hanger-on. I heard he died in a hit-and-run accident recently.”
“We’ve never found the driver.” Musgrove shrugged. “Me? I figured it for an accident, but did you have any contact with Binder since returning?”
Jim spread his hands. “Dead before I arrived.”
“All right then, Kennedy.” Musgrove stuffed the napkin with Jim’s number into his pocket. “I think Deputy Unger already gave your number to Collins. He’ll probably want to talk to you at some point once I tell him you knew Kelly.”
“I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
Musgrove saluted and walked back through the dining room, glad-handing when he could. When he walked out the front door, Scarlett turned to Jim. “That’s why you have the tattoo.”
Jim choked on his water. “How do you know about that?”
“When you...fell last night, your shirt hiked up in the back. I saw it then, and I had seen the same tattoo, or at least the same letters, on the neck of the dead man.”
“Thought about getting it removed a few times, but it reminds me where I came from and what I have to battle.”
She swirled the ice in her water glass. “Is that why you joined the army? To get away from your family?”
“One reason.”
“So why’d you come back here?”
“Settle my dad’s stuff.”
“Liar. We found a dead body together. You can tell me the truth.”
He rubbed his knuckles against his sexy stubble. “I came across a news story online about those kidnappings a few months ago. It brought back some...memories.”
Not very good memories from the look in his dark, haunted eyes.
“Sounds like you’d rather forget those memories. Why torture yourself by coming back?”
