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Tildy felt her face reddening.
“Sleeps around a lot too. See, Hawk comes home from the Army, and women practically throw themselves at him. Used to getting what he wants, when he wants it, if you know what I mean. But he meets you, and you don’t want it. Maybe that upset him. He’s not used to being told no, so he followed you-”
“That did not happen.”
“Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. I think I’ll pay him a visit anyway.”
“None of that happened,” Tildy insisted.
Rawlins shrugged. “Then maybe he saw someone suspicious hanging around the bar. Maybe by talking to him we could find out who might have done this.”
“I told you,” Tildy insisted. “Nothing happened.”
Rawlins smirked at her. “Not to you, you said. But some poor young woman was sexually assaulted outside a motel last night and we wouldn’t be protecting and serving, Ms. Fletcher, if we didn’t find out exactly what happened.”
Chapter 23
Hawk’s cell phone rang in his pocket, and he wiped his hands well enough to answer it on the third ring.
“Doc?” he asked, based on the name on the screen.
Shooter, Easy, and Tex stopped working and glanced at him.
“Listen, I don’t have a lot of time,” Caleb said. “Rawlins is on his way to the garage.”
Hawk put down his rag. “Why?”
“He’s coming to question you, and I’m not allowed to come with him. Listen to me; Tildy was attacked last night.”
Hawk’s stomach twisted into a hard knot. “What do you mean attacked?”
At this, the other three men came over to stand around him.
“She was followed home from the bar last night, and someone hurt her,” Caleb replied.
“How bad?”
“I don’t know for sure. So far she’s not talking, but your name came up, and Rawlins is hauling ass to Burnout to pull you in. Just go with it. Don’t argue. I can get you a lawyer if you want.”
Hawk’s hand tightened on the phone. “Don’t need a fucking lawyer,” he replied, as he turned and watched a squad car turn and roll into the gravel lot. He disconnected the call as Rawlins opened the driver’s side door and jostled his overweight frame out of the vehicle.
“What happened?” Shooter demanded, bouncing his gaze from Rawlins, whom he had a personal hate-on for, and Hawk.
“Tildy got hurt last night. Someone attacked her.”
“Who?” Shooter demanded. “How bad is she hurt?”
Hawk shook his head. “Don’t know.”
“Hawk Red Cloud,” Rawlins drawled from behind him.
Hawk sat in possibly the world’s most uncomfortable chair and looked across the metal table at Rawlins, who had not gotten any thinner or smarter since Hawk had seen him last. He knew Caleb was around but not allowed into the interrogation -interview- room. Rawlins was doing his best to look intimidating. If Tildy hadn’t been hurt, possibly injured, Hawk would have laughed. So far Rawlins was enjoying not telling Hawk anything about what happened to her, just in case Hawk was ‘innocent’.
Of course, in Rawlins’ mind, Hawk Red Cloud would never be innocent, even if he wasn’t guilty. It had been that way since Rawlins had picked up Hawk all those years ago spray painting signs. On the way to the station with 18-year-old Hawk, Rawlins hadn’t held back from telling Hawk exactly what he thought of piece of shit, welfare ‘Injuns’. ‘Red Trash’ Rawlins had called him. Years later, Shooter confirmed that Rawlins had referred to Shooter’s own family as ‘White Trash’ whenever possible.
Now that Hawk was bigger, meaner and not so inclined to put up with Rawlins’ shit, Rawlins hadn’t even tried to put him in the squad car to come to the station. He’d let Hawk take the Harley. Hawk supposed it was only because he wasn’t actually under arrest and that was because Rawlins simply hadn’t found anything to justify it.
“How long have you known Ms. Fletcher?” Rawlins demanded.
Hawk shrugged. “Not long. A week.”
“She your girlfriend? Oh, right, you don’t have girlfriends. She your bed buddy?”
Hawk glared at the old man. “Nope.”
“You want her to be?”
Hawk rolled his eyes. “Rawlins, what does-?”
“Maybe she said no. Maybe she’s just not that into you,” he said smirking.
Hawk didn’t respond.
“So, you wanted her, but she said no. Just another little rich girl slumming it for the night with a dirty Indian and his biker crowd. She ditched you at the front door and headed back to her nice, big house on the north side of town.”
Hawk frowned at Rawlins. Rawlins, who was a pain in the ass, but fairly decent at his job with the proper motivation, noticed. “What?” he prompted.
Hawk didn’t answer for a moment. Why would Tildy lie to the police? He could understand if she didn’t want to tell people they’d made out in his truck, but to lie completely and not admit they’d been together in the parking lot didn’t make sense. Tildy didn’t strike Hawk as much of a liar.
