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“Sorry, man, old habits die hard.”
Ryder asked excitedly, “What did you find out when you were hanging tough with the Outlanders?”
“Those brothers are screwed the fuck up.”
Suddenly interested, Ryder and Ace stepped forward. “Exactly in what way are they fucked?”
“They’re Christians. Everything is all God this and God that.”
“And?”
“And I got real tired of hearing it.”
Ryder frowned. “In other words, they ain’t fucked in the least. You just don’t like having the Lord in your life. Is that about right?”
Cork snarled, “Let’s just call it a little too much of a good thing.”
Ace asked curiously, “Were they racist at all?”
Shrugging, Cork replied, “They had one black brother, and some of the guys had wives from south of the boarder. I’m gonna have to say no to that one.”
“That’s another dead end” Ryder groused. “We’re going to the morgue. Wanna drive?”
“Sure. Do I need my vest?”
“You’re not getting out of the armored van, so no.”
~ Barbara ~
Pulling up at the morgue, Barbara noticed that David’s father’s BMW was in the parking lot. Entering the building with Ryder on one side and Ace on the other seemed like overkill, especially since they were all wearing armored vests. Instead of complaining, though, Barb zipped her lips. The men were intractable when it came to security.
Signing in at the reception desk, Barb realized their small town didn’t have much in the way of security for the morgue. Then again, why would they, a little voice in the back of head whispered. How one small, unexpected discovery could screw up her life so badly, she’d never know.
“Mrs. Reynolds.”
Coming to her feet, she approached the window. “That’s me. Can I go back?”
Nodding, the woman buzzed the door. “Just you. The father has requested family only.”
“You ain’t going if we can’t go.”
Ace’s overprotectiveness was getting in the way of progress today. But asking him to sit down seemed rude, and she knew it would embarrass him in front of Ryder to be left behind.
Turning to the receptionist, she tried to tear up. Scrambling around in her brain, she tried to think of saddest possible thing she could imagine. A gigantic combat boot kicking a cute puppy came to mind. Grabbing onto the image in her mind, she dredged up all the emotion of the last few days and let the tears fall.
“David meant so much to me, and I can’t believe he was here one day and gone the next. I don’t think I can do this without a support person.”
The woman’s face turned empathetic. “I’ll allow just one friend. Pick one.”
Grabbing Ace’s hand, she pulled him toward the door, and they made their way down a long, creepy hallway. It was a little weird, because the building didn’t look that big from the outside. At the end was a viewing window.
Gathering her courage, Barbara stepped close to the window. Peering inside, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. When the tears cleared, she saw poor David laid out on a cold metal table and his grieving father standing over him with two other men in the background.
The old man must have sensed movement because he looked toward the window. The moment their eyes locked, she knew something was off. He looked different from the nice older gentleman she’d always known. The pure, blind hate in his eyes made her blood run cold.
“We should go.”
“Whatever you say, Barb,” Ace said automatically.
