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“Because Traynor talked the D.A. into not pressing charges.” I don’t go into the details about the Demon Dawgs exacting revenge on the D.A., along with the men who attacked Viper. Nor do I tell them about Puma helping her fight them off.
“Do you have enough to arrest Traynor?” the captain asks Reed.
“We do. Our contact from Michelson Trucking provided all the evidence we need to prove Traynor’s been taking bribes ever since he joined the force. They hid it well. No one would think to dig into his finances that deep to uncover the scheme.” Reed glances at me, opens his mouth, then shuts it again.
I have a feeling he wants to ask me if the Demon Dawgs had any part in the discovery of Traynor’s illicit behavior. I don’t offer, and he doesn’t ask.
A knock on the door draws our attention. A uniformed officer pops his head in and addresses the captain. “We have a situation in Red Rock Canyon. Someone found the bodies of three men. He also discovered several remains inside a nearby crevice. The deputy who called us said they believe the remains are all female. They’re pulling the bodies out now.”
“Jesus. Do they know how many victims?” the captain asks.
“They don’t have a final count. But they think there are at least ten. They found identification cards under a nearby rock.”
“What about the men? Any identification on them?” I ask.
He nods. “All three are from Las Vegas. Each has a record. They don’t know if there is a link between the male victims and the other bodies. However, the guy who found them recognized them. Said he ran them off his property three nights ago.”
“Who found them?” the captain asks.
The uniform officer looks at his notes. “A Barry Jones. He owns a cabin near where he found the bodies. His land butts up against the mesa.”
“Barry Jones?” Reed asks at the same time I do. I give him a quizzical look.
“There was a former member of the Demon Dawgs who had that name. I read about him. He got out of prison about five years ago and disappeared. I heard he came back here but didn’t know if he joined back up with the club.”
“He was the man who gave Viper an alibi for the night of her father’s murder. She didn’t mention he was a member of her club.”
“Maybe she thought you wouldn’t believe her alibi if she told you the truth,” the captain suggests.
“Possible, but I don’t think so. She told me he was a former biker. That he ran with a now-defunct club from Arizona. She could have told me he was a former Demon Dawg, but one she hadn’t met yet. If she feared I’d reject his statement because of the connection.”
“She likely doesn’t know him,” Reed chimes in. “Jones, who had the road name of Preacher, hasn’t been with the club since before Puma joined.”
“Why did the Red Rock Canyon deputies call us?” the captain asks.
“The three men they found are from here, as are the women. The IDs they found were UNLV student IDs. They think the kidnappings occurred here, maybe even the murders. Their site could just be the body dump. They want to work with someone in our department.”
The captain looks at me, and I nod. “I’ll go.”
I leave the station and hop on 95 East. I consider calling Puma and asking him about Barry Jones but decide to wait until I’ve questioned the man. Maybe he has a good reason for not telling Viper about his prior affiliation with her club. I consider the possibility that she lied to me, but that doesn’t sit right with me. Viper’s always been honest with me, at least on matters not related to club business. Maybe Barry’s association with the club is club business, but I doubt it. He was a former member.
Before I can talk to Barry, I need to coordinate with the deputy in charge of the crime scene. I can’t help but wonder if the three men found near the bodies are the same three men who attacked Viper a few days ago. She said she was camping on Barry’s land, which is next to the land where Barry found the bodies of three men. A sick feeling in my gut tells me this isn’t a coincidence.
I find the deputy in charge standing at the top of a small mesa about a mile from the road. She watches me approachwith a blank expression on her face. She’s standing away from the activity concentrated near a crevice. Several people wearing white coveralls are searching the ground while a smaller group stands at the edge of a crevice. They just lowered a stretcher into the depths as I reach the top. “You’re the detective from Las Vegas?” she asks.
“Detective Rafe Sterling,” I greet her.
“Deputy Sandra Jennings.”
“I’m here to provide help. Plus, I know the man who called this in.”
“You know Barry?” she asks.
“Not well. He provided an alibi for a suspect in a case I’m working.”
“Barry’s one of the good ones. He likes to keep an eye out for illegal campers. He said he ran the three male victims off his property a few nights ago. He’s certain the three men he found today are them. Want to see?”
“He identified the three men?” I ask.
