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“It won’t take too long to brew,” Stevie mentions as she works. “Don’t mind the noise. It works just fine.”
A few seconds after she switches on the machine, it starts clunking like the nuts and bolts are churning around in the coffee grinder. I put my hands over my ears until it quiets down and starts hissing.
“I’m putting in a complaint to the Prez,” I joke. “He ought to dig deep and buy the club a new one.”
Stevie chuckles. “Oh, man, if only he pulled that Robin Hood shit for the benefit of the club and not the community, we’d be rolling in dough.”
My eyes twitch, and I glance over my shoulder to check Jason isn’t listening. He’s busy reprimanding Tex for running his mouth at me, which means I’m free to poke Stevie for information.
“Look, Stevie, can you help me out with something?” I say, cringing. “I wasn’t listening to what Havoc said to me while he was giving me an ass whooping. Something about the mayor and the Jackals. I really don’t think I can take another spanking today. Can you fill in the gaps?”
Stevie’s lips twist into a wry smile. “Fine, I’ll help you out. You can owe me one when I need a favor.”
“Thank you.” I sigh with relief.
Stevie leans closer. “Well, think of Marcus Jackal as the Sheriff of Nottingham, and Mayor Booker as Prince John.” She continues to rhyme off characters, assigning names to members of the Hawks like she’s telling the most compelling story of the century. “Mayor Booker approached Havoc first, wanting to recruit some hired muscle to force the residents of Mountview to sell their land to developers. When Havoc told him to go fuck himself, the Jackals rode into town. The Hawks have been doing everything they can to stop them, but it’s our word against the mayor’s.”
Maintaining a stoic expression, not wanting her to see how shocked I am, I spare a quick glance at Jason, resenting him for not trusting me with that vital piece of information. If the Mayor wants our land, then my garage is on the hit list. What am I doing wasting time waiting around for coffee? I need to tell Sheriff Dan.
“I think I’ll pass on the coffee,” I say to Stevie. “Thanks anyway.”
Her face sags with disappointment. “Oh, okay.”
Jason takes me home, and we share an awkward goodbye kiss on my doorstep. I fake being fine just to get him to drive away and leave me be, but the minute he turns his back, my smile melts off my face faster than ice cream on a hot day.That conniving son of a bitch.I don’t know what it is with men like him thinking they can protect us women from the truth. I’m not a delicate flower. I’m like a thorn. And believe me, no one wants one of those stuck in their side.
ChapterSeven
After some much-needed coffee and a cream cheese bagel, I take another shower and change into something comfortable. It’s not like I’m out to impress anyone in my lounge pants and hoodie. I have things to do, people to see, and a vendetta to plan for the mayor. If the people of Mountview knew what he was doing, they’d run him out of town. But it’ll be hard to get people to listen. Politicians are known for telling lies, but people voted for Booker because he grew up here. They trust him and are disillusioned into thinking he wants the best for them and this town when all he really wants is to line his own greedy pockets. But for some reason, Sheriff Dan keeps calling him out on his bullshit, so I’m hoping there’s still one guy left in Mountview with a shred of integrity. I dial his number and wait for him or either one of his deputies to pick up the call.
“Hello, Sheriff Lopez speaking,” Dan answers, but he sounds breathless like he’s just stopped running.
“Oh, is it a bad time?” I ask, hoping I haven’t unwittingly aided and abetted a criminal’s escape or worse, disturbed him during happy time with Liv. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir. It’s Keira Blake. You said to call you if I ever needed anything.”
Nah, there’s no way Dan would answer the phone if he was that busy. He was probably working out.
“It’s fine, Keira. What’s the problem?” he answers exhaustedly.
I start awkwardly pacing around the kitchen, thinking about how best to explain this. “I have some information about Mayor Booker and Marcus Jackal,” I say, hearing Dan’s weary sigh rattling down the line. “What if Booker helped Marcus with an alibi the night of my brother’s murder because Marcus is working for him? Uh . . . I heard through a friend that Booker is paying the Jackals to scare people into leaving town. They seem to think he’s got something going on with the developers who want to buy the land around here.”
“They’re not developers,” Dan says flatly. “They are oil miners. Hence the reason the Jackals are being so pushy. Booker is set to make a fortune from this.”
“If you knew what Booker was up to, why haven’t you done anything about it?” I ask critically.
“Look, Keira,” Dan says with a resigned sigh. “I’m gonna need you to drop it and let me handle Booker.”
“I don’t know who’s worse. You or Jason,” I retort with an annoyed huff. “All I’m getting is a wall of secrecy. Your influence has rubbed off on him.”
“You ought to listen to him. Don’t go poking your nose around in Booker’s business. You’ll only get hurt,” Dan warns me.
“Like my brother, you mean?” I snap back.
Dan’s exasperated exhale rattles down the line like crackling static. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to stay out of it and let us handle it. Just go about your business and keep your head down. Jason knows what he’s doing. You should listen to him.”
“Well, thanks for nothing, asshole.” I hang up the phone and slump against the kitchen counter, weighing up my options.
It seems like Sheriff Dan and Jason have made plans. I just wish they’d share them with me. Those Jackal bastards have caused Mountview enough misery. They took my brother from me, from Ivy and their child, and from Mom and Dad too. I want retribution. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. I want to see Marcus Jackal take his last breath, then I can spit on his grave. Maybe then I’ll find peace.
My phone rings. It’s Jason. I roll my eyes, inwardly cursing at Sheriff Dan for calling him. There’s no way it can be a coincidence. When I don’t answer the first time, he calls again, and again. When I don’t answer those calls, that’s when the texts and voicemails start rolling in. I’m not interested in being told what to do. My mind is spinning, absorbing all the information I brushed off as nothing. The time those Jackal assholes came into the garage and threatened Bodie should still be on the CCTV recording unless someone has deleted it. So, that’s the first place I go.
