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Puma nods. “Do you know what happened to those guys?”
I frown at him. Usually, Puma avoids talking about anything related to the club. That he wants me to dig into the fate of these five men intrigues me. “I never pressed her for details, so I don’t know their names.”
He takes out a piece of paper and a pen. After he finishes writing, he hands the paper to me. On it is a date, a location, and five names. “Look them up. When you do, call me, and then I’ll give you the names of these three men.”
Knowing I won’t get anything more out of Puma, I leave the clubhouse and head to the station. At my desk, I start the search for Angelica’s mother, Angela Turner. I tell myself that Angelica’s safety is my top priority, but I know it’s a lie. I’m reluctant to conduct the search on the five names Puma gave me.
I’m not sure why I’m so reluctant. Puma wouldn’t risk his club by handing me a list of five men whose deaths could point back to the Demon Dawgs. Unless he’s using this to test my trustworthiness. And fuck me, that’s why I don’t want to look. I’m not sure how I’ll react to what I find.
Entering the date and location of the attack on Viper, I find the case number. Before reviewing the notes, I brace myself for what I’ll find. I recognize the names of the responding officers. They’re both good men and took detailed notes about the attack. They even included photos. Rage rushes through me at seeing Viper with a black eye and extensive bruising on her arms. Seeing her bruised knuckles lightens my mood. My baby fought back. The officers arrested the five unconscious men.
I keep reading the file, intent on discovering the outcome of the case against them. The last entry by the uniformed officer states that he’s handing the case over to Detective Steve Traynor. The case file contains only one additional entry. And this entry has me seeing red. The men received nothing more than a warning. All charges dropped based on the advice of the lead detective and the District Attorney. The reason for not pursuingthe case was the quality of the witness. How her choice of profession made her untrustworthy.
I take several breaths to stop myself from charging into my lieutenant’s office and decking him. My boss, Lieutenant Steve Traynor, decided that my girl didn’t deserve justice. Motherfucker. Now I understand why Puma didn’t consider it worthwhile to call the cops on the three men. It would be their word against Viper’s, an enforcer for a motorcycle club. Fuck me. My only consolation is that the DA who rejected the case is no longer in office. He’s serving time for embezzling government funds to pay for prostitutes. Karma at least stepped in to right a wrong.
My fingers itch to locate the five men and see if they are still alive today. In all honesty, I’m terrified of what I’ll find. Are they still alive? If they are, I can’t deny a desire to find them and make their lives not worth living.
However, before I can punch their names into the search engine, my phone buzzes. Seeing my boss’s name on the display has me grinding my teeth.
“Sterling.”
“My office,” Traynor barks, ending the call.
Forcing myself to stay calm and not show emotion, I cross the bullpen and knock once on his door before opening it and stepping inside.
“Take a seat,” he directs me. I do, without saying a word. “Got a complaint from a Gloria Billock out of CPS. She said you refused to execute a warrant against the Demon Dawgs.”
“She’s mistaken.”
“Ms. Billock said you refused to search the premises for a missing child. Directing the search away from specific areas within the clubhouse.”
“I searched the bedrooms and living areas first. They were the most logical places to find the child. If we didn’t find her,then we’d have moved to the locked rooms. However, Ms. Capon arrived and canceled the search.”
He studies me for several long minutes before waving me away. “I’m watching you, Sterling. If I discover you’re collaborating with those bikers, I’ll have your badge.”
CHAPTER SEVEN: VIPER
Pulling up in front of Barry’s cabin, I place a call to Spark once I see I have bars. After giving him the highlights of my evening, I ask him to run a check on the three punks.
Barry comes outside just as I end the call. “She’s a beauty,” he says, eyeing my 2012 Harley-Davidson Softail. She’s a gorgeous metallic blue, Max helped me customize. I feel a pang when I think about him. He was always eager to spend time with me before and after I got my patch. How did I not realize he was my brother?
“That she is,” I agree.
“You can store her inside my shed,” Barry offers, leading me around to the back of his cabin. There sits a shed as big as a two-car garage. He opens it to reveal a full-sized truck. Next to it sits a motorcycle with a tarp covering it. I wheel mine next to it before removing my backpack from the saddlebags.
“What do you ride?” I ask him.
He moves to the bike to remove the tarp, but a crack of thunder with a corresponding flash of lightning tells us we best get inside. “I’ll show you tomorrow. She’s a beaut, too. Haven’t been able to ride her much lately. She’s a trike. Can’t handle a two-wheeler any longer. Getting old sucks.”
“They have some nice trikes,” I tell him as he lets me into his cabin. The warmth makes me moan with appreciation. I love camping, but one thing I don’t like is the cold. But that’s what sleeping bags and thermals are for.
“Hungry?” he asks. When I nod, he gestures toward the hallway. “You can take the first room on the left. Bathroom is across the hall. The room at the end is mine. Store your gear, and we can eat.”
I do as he suggests. The guest room is small but cozy. A homemade quilt covers a full bed and two pillows. A chest of drawers sits against the far wall with a matching nightstand next to the bed. After dropping my bag on the floor, I cross the hall to use the facilities. It’s small but serviceable.
In the kitchen, I find Barry stirring the contents of a deep cast-iron pot. The smell of fresh bread, meat, onions, and spices permeates the compact kitchen.
“Bowls are up in that cupboard,” Barry says, nodding at the cupboard door near me. Opening it, I pull out two large bowls with matching plates and hand them over. He fills them before adding two slices of bread to each plate. I carry in the food while he gathers the silverware. We sit at the small round table with barely enough room for us both.
