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Briar
Contacting Christian Jakes, her abrasive ex-ATF team leader in LA, was at the top of Briar’s to-do list. Had there been a leak about the op, one worse than what had happened last spring? She couldn’t tell Royce about it since everything about the busted op was confidential, need to know. She wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone about what had happened—not until the investigation was finished. This body couldn’t be a coincidence, though.
“Are you going to make me call 9-1-1?” she asked him. “Or can I just report this DB directly?”
Royce huffed out a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, fine, I’m 9-1-1, I’m taking it.” He stood back up. “I’m going to call the coroner over in Bridgeton. She’s not going to be happy about coming out on a storm like this.”
“It’s not as if we planned it. At least the window is open,” Briar pointed out, “so it doesn’t smell as bad as it should.”
Royce shook his head. “It’s us, not the body. Dr. Frank generally seems to like the dead better than the living.”
“This guy probably didn’t plan on getting dead.”
“That’s—” he stopped himself. “Thanks for pointing that out.” He turned to face her again, his—she had to admit it—handsome face pulled into a frown. “You need to tell me everything. Do you recognize this guy?”
“No.” That at least was the truth. She’d never seen the man before in her life. “I checked his pockets for ID while you were looking around. No wallet, no keys, nothing.”
“So the killer robbed him? I don’t think so.”
“Neither do I.”
Royce cocked his head as he glanced over the body again and then back at her. “It’s the tattoo, then. What does it mean?”
Damn, Royce was quick. The tattoo could be a coincidence, right? There were hundreds of Spiders MC members, and this one just happened to get himself dead in Tor’s house. What was it her first supervisor always said about coincidences? There is no such thing as coincidence, especially when there are guns, bombs, or bodies involved.
The big question was, could she trust Royce King? Could she afford to not trust him? If the Spiders were in the area, if they had somehow learned her real identity and traced her background to Rexville, then Tor’s death could lay squarely at her feet. And once they found out about the death of one of theirs, they would send more of them, more than she could deal with on her own—one or two she could totally handle. She shivered and it wasn’t because the window was still open.
“Briar?”
Briar realized she’d been quiet, staring at the body, for too long, especially for someone who wasn’t fazed by dead bodies.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Royce, true concern lacing his voice.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you, again. I’m fine,” she repeated unnecessarily. She needed to think, she wasn’t ready to break protocol and tell Royce her connection with the dead body. She didn’t know if she could tell him everything. Dammit, Jakes.
Moving away from the body to stand next to Royce and the open window, Briar looked out into the gloomy backyard at the overgrown fruit trees that were too close to the house. She supposed someone could climb from this window into one of the trees—or vice versa. Was that the noise they’d heard earlier?
“Someone either climbed out or in,” Royce said as if he knew what she was thinking. “I’ll come back out with a kit and check the yard for footprints.”
Briar released a heavy sigh. She’d thought this was going to be a quick trip home to take care of Tor’s estate and then fly back to Los Angeles, but that wasn’t gonna happen now that she’d found a dead motorcycle gang member in her father’s house.
What the hell was he doing here, and did he have something to do with Tor’s death?
When she’d been a kid, Rexville had hosted a Ren Faire and there’d always been a fortune teller’s tent. Whoever the woman was, she’d dressed like an escapee from Woodstock. She’d read cards and palms, and had a crystal ball. No matter which she used, Briar felt like the fortune teller’s answer today would be Yes.
“So, are you gonna tell me what’s going on,” Royce pressed, “or am I gonna have to have Bishop do research on you and dig up everything I need to know?”
Turning away from the window, she faced Royce. They were standing closer together than she’d realized.
“What are you talking about? Who is this bishop?”
Royce ran his hand through his dark hair, and if Briar noticed the streaks of silver at his temples, it was purely because she was an investigator, someone paid to notice things. Not because she had a weakness for mature, competent men.
“Not a bishop. My brother, Bishop, is also one of the partners in King Security. I’m a little unsure how that’s going to work now because of the sheriff thing. But Bishop is one of my business partners. And he’s also a computer genius, so whatever you’re involved in… he will find out.”
Briar wasn’t sure she believed Royce’s brother could really dig up information on her. The full story about her time undercover in the Spiders MC was, or should have been, hidden from the public eye. The operation was still under wraps with the agency. If she told Royce what had gone down, she could possibly be throwing away any defense she had for what had happened. At least, that’s what she’d been told.
He stared at her for a while as if, by mere force of will, he could get her to speak. When she didn’t, he shook his head and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
