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CHAPTER ONE
From behind her desk at Bear’s Tow and Go, Ellie McMahon took another sip of the best organic, dark, French roast coffee she’d ever had in her life. She’d paid five dollars and change for it, which was not within her daily budget, but as the liquid gold swept past her taste buds, she knew the money had been well spent. She set the cup down, turned on the computer, tossed her purse in the desk drawer and waited for the search engine to pop up, so she could check her daily horoscope. Seeing what the stars and planets had in mind for the day always helped to point her in the right direction.
When the little, colored wheel kept spinning, she groaned. “Not again.” She stuck her tongue out at the computer screen. Getting Bear to buy her a new one was going to be about as easy as herding cats.
Pitbull sauntered into the office and dropped a stack of invoices on the desk. “These have to be entered today.” He flashed her a snide smile.
Ellie’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Are you kidding me? There must about three hundred of them.”
“I don’t know what to tell ya. Bear said it had to be done today.”
“But my computer is broken.”
“Use that one.” Pitbull pointed at a laptop, sitting on the counter in the shop. “You know if Bear says he wants something done, he wants it done…like yesterday.”
Ellie glared at Pitbull’s back, as he walked back into the garage, laughing. God, she wished she had a different job. However, if everything went as planned, she would be able to give her notice in six months. One hundred and eighty days. She just had to stay strong, keep her head down and collect her paychecks.
She grabbed the laptop and brought it back to her desk, plugged it in and hoped that it would turn on. While she waited, she got to work, making two fresh pots of coffee for the guys working in the garage. As she filled the glass carafes, she thought back to the day of her job interview with Bear. The man had sat back in his chair, put his hands behind his head and commanded, “Make me a good pot of coffee.” He was covered in tattoos, wore a black vest, with bold, red lettering, “Barracudas Est. 1976.” Ellie had been scared to death at being in the presence of a biker, but was desperate to make money to pay for her mother’s funeral and hospital bills, so she got up and made Bear his coffee. Then she added four sugars and a splash of cream, at his request and served it to him, piping hot. He let out the largest belch she’d ever heard in her life, patted his belly and declared, “You’re hired!” She was trying to figure out how to tactfully decline, when he sat forward, grabbed a pen and wrote a number down on a piece of paper and spun it her way.
“You make coffee every day, take care of the invoices, answer the phones and help keep me organized. This is what I’ll pay you.”
It was more than double what she’d hoped for. If she stuck to eating ramen noodles, canceled her cable, and kept her heat as low as possible, she could be debt free in a year.
“When do I start?” Flew out of her mouth, before she really had a chance to think things through.
The place was definitely sketchy. But no one bothered her. And her bills were rapidly dwindling. So, all in all, working for a bunch of bikers wasn’t so bad.
Ellie took another sip of coffee and glanced down at the computer. It was still loading, which meant that it probably hadn’t been used very often. She picked up her sweater, flipped up her signature French braid and slid her arms inside. There was a chill in the air that she couldn’t quite shake.
Finally, the search engine popped up. She typed in Libra and waited.
Hello, dear Libra, Your word for today, March 17th, is epiphany. You may believe that other people are as honest as you, but you need to get real. Don’t believe what you are told. Believe what you see. A spontaneous trip is on the horizon. It is there that you will find what you’ve been looking for.
She read the words again and a big, fat smile spread across her face. A spontaneous trip is on the horizon? Images of sparkling, turquoise waters, white, sandy beaches and chiseled surfers with abs of steel made her smile even wider.
Before she got lost in her daydream, Ellie grabbed the stack of invoices.
Three and a half hours later, she had them entered onto a spreadsheet. She was saving the file, when a message popped up, alerting her that she had mail. She clicked on the envelope and a video opened.
The image was dark and grainy. She leaned in close to the screen, squinted her eyes and hit the volume button.
“I swear to you, I’m not lying! I did not go to the cops!”
A wave of horror punched Ellie in the center of her chest. She knew that voice. It belonged to Cindi Lewis, who used to hang out at the garage.
Bile burned the back of Ellie’s throat, as the video played on. The picture remained grainy, but she could make out four men, a female and a big hole in the ground.
“Bitches end up in ditches.” A male voice cackled. Ellie’s hands started to shake. She knew that voice, too. It belonged to Spike.
“It’s snitches, you fucking moron! Now, finish her off!” Bear commanded.
“Noooooooo! I didn’t talk! I didn’t!” Cindi cried.
Pop!
Cindi fell into the hole.
“Grab a shovel.” Pitbull barked.
