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He heard Tessa’s voice.“Mr. Taylor, what on earth do you think you can accomplish by kidnapping this busload of innocent children who are on a field trip?”
Ronan turned and headed back into the clubhouse with the phone glued to his ear. He saw Jett and Rafe coming out and covered the mouthpiece. “Rafe, can you find out someone’s location from their cellphone?”
“If it’s on, sure.”
“Tessa just called me, and she’s in trouble.”
“Give me the number.”
Ronan reeled off the number, and as Rafe dashed inside with his laptop while Jett hovered nearby, straining to hear as Ronan put it on speakerphone.
He could hear the voice of a man, presumably Harvey Taylor, shouting at the kids to be quiet. There was a rustle, the sound of the phone scraping on something or something crackling next to it. Jett stiffened, practically vibrating with the same rage Ronan felt as they followed Rafe in and watched him at his computer, his fingers dancing over the keys.
“Yes, yes…” he muttered as he did his magic.
“Rafe, she mentioned a kidnapping. She’s on a school bus filled with kids.” He’d pulled the phone far away from his mouth to whisper that. Rafe put his fingers to his lips, hushing him, and held out his hand for the phone. He pulled some kind of plug from his pocket and inserted it into a jack on the phone.
“There, that will keep our voices from tipping off anyone that the phone is connected.” Rafe turned his attention back to the keyboard, and Ronan forced himself to let the man do his work and not bother him with stupid questions. He knew what it was like to work on a man’s bike while he looked over your shoulder—it broke your concentration and didn’t help a damn thing. Still, he had to fight to keep from pestering the man.
He and Jett paced around the table in tense, angry silence, pausing occasionally to share concerned looks.
“Fuck,” said Jett softly. “We practically told her to ignore the situation.”
“We gave good advice. We didn’t know he was that whacked.” Even as he said it, Ronan felt as guilty as Jett clearly did.
“Her instincts warned her, and we dismissed them. This is our fault.”
He wanted to protest, but he found he couldn’t. “We’re going to get her back safe and sound.”
“Maybe, or maybe not.” Jett looked haunted, as though he was reliving the past. Better than most, Jett understood how shit could go awry, especially if emotions clouded judgment.
It wasn’t a good day.
As Jett paced,he looked around the clubhouse while trying to sort out what they should do first. Resisting the urge to hop on his bike and start searching was hard, but where did he start? L.A. was a big place with lots of side roads.
It was early afternoon, and just a few bikers were hanging out there. He knew most of them. Bikers and their old ladies, or women who were biker groupies or looking to become an old lady for a biker, were the only patrons of the bar. All the bikers were members of the Road Kings. For better or worse, they were his friends, and he needed help. He went to the bar and crawled up on it, then stood up. “Okay, you dumb motherfuckers, I’m making a call for help.”
Ronan moved closer, not joining him on the bar but crossing his arms over his chest and nodding as he looked around.
Slash came wandering over from a corner with a beer in his hand. “Sure, Romeo, I’ll buy you a beer.”
“I think some lowlife just kidnapped a busload of sixth graders.”
A murmur of shock went through his audience. “Ronan got a call from Kayla’s teacher, and it sounds like one of the parents has nabbed them somehow.”
“Is Kayla with them?” Slash asked.
“I don’t know. I’d imagine so. We have to assume she is.” Jett flinched, hating the idea and imagining how destroyed his sister and Linc would be if something happened to Kayla. Just as destroyed as he and Ronan would be at losing Kayla… and Tessa.
“What can we do?” asked Choirboy.
Slash looked furious. “Let’s head out and track it down. How hard can it be to find a fucking school bus?” He turned to three bikers. “As I recall, there are three ways you can get from that school to anywhere.”
Three men, two of them brothers, stepped forward. One grabbed Choirboy’s arm. “We got it, Slash. I’ll call my brother. He lives on the other side of the school. He’ll follow the main road right to it, and we can come in from the other roads.”
Slash nodded as Jett hopped down from the bar to stand by Ronan. Slash watched the three men head out the door. “That can’t hurt. But if you see the bus, anybody sees the bus, call my phone. Don’t have all the fun of playing hero by yourselves.” He turned to Ronan. “Let me coordinate this crew and the search, Clutch. I think you and Romeo need a free hand.”
Ronan slapped him on the back. “Thanks. You’ll organize this motley band better anyway.” He called out to the men, “This loser owns a shitload of guns and might be heavily armed. I don’t care if you fuckers bite the dust, but there are kids in the line of fire.”
