“Shut up, man.” Charlie began choking out sobs.

  Blaine leaned in close and said, “This is what you and I know. Juan set up that party. Juan gave the order to grab the Punos. How many did he kill himself? Or did he let you do all the wet work?”

  Charlie was thinking. Blaine could see it in his eyes.

  “I can help you with the accidental shooting of your mother, kid. I know in my heart you didn’t mean to kill your mother.” Blaine leaned both hands on the table. “But you have to help me.”

  Charlie’s voice cracked. “How can you help me?”

  “We make a deal. We trade. You tell me Juan was at the party giving orders and I keep you from getting the needle.”

  “He was there.” Barely audible, but Charlie said it. The recorder heard it.

  “Thank you, Charlie. Let’s get you settled downstairs and get you something to eat.”

  Charlie nodded, and the tears flowed at last.

  BLAINE STEPPED INTO the corridor and Chief Calhoun nodded. He’d been watching through the window. “Good work. I’ll get him booked and out of sight downstairs before you finish with the other one.”

  “Thanks, Chief. Wouldn’t want them having a family reunion downstairs in booking.”

  He popped back behind door number one and smiled at Prince Coronado. “Anything you want to tell me before I book you, Juan?”

  “You can’t book me. What you talkin bout?”

  “Triple murder, sir. That’s what I’m talking.”

  “I want my lawyer.”

  “As soon as you’re booked, you can have your phone call.”

  Coronado propelled himself across the table and went for Blaine’s throat. Blaine’s bad leg buckled, and Coronado had him on his back and gasping for air when the door burst open. Three Rangers grabbed the Prince and dragged him away.

  One of the Rangers helped Blaine to his feet. “You okay, Mr. B?”

  Blaine rubbed his throat and couldn’t speak. He took a few breaths, then squeaked it out, “Book him. Unlawful restraint. Kidnapping. Forcible confinement. First degree murder, three counts. Make sure he’s shackled and, in a cell, alone. No phone call for twenty-four hours.”

  Barry smiled. “You got it.”

  Before he left to get ready for his date, Blaine stuck his head in the Chief’s office. “We need warrants on the clubhouse and on his residence. Farrell said there were bricks of hundreds in the clubhouse. With that much money, there has to be product stored somewhere.”

  “I’ll get one of the girls started on the warrants and I’ll recruit extra manpower from narcotics.”

  Blaine gave the Chief a thumbs-up.

  ANNIE JUMPED in the shotgun seat of the dark green surveillance vehicle belonging to the Blackmore Agency. A forest green Ford pickup with a matching camper unit on the back gave no hint of the level of technology contained within.

  “Been hyped for this recon all day since you called me, girl. That and the fact that we’re working together and having dinner n’all.” He drove out the Coulter-Ross laneway and turned onto the highway.

  “Gotta convince The Rule that Austin isn’t suitable for them,” said Annie.

  “You get all the easy jobs.” Travis chuckled.

  “The hardest part is keeping stuff from Blaine. He kind of knows I’m doing something, but a part of him doesn’t want to know.”

  “Better if he doesn’t know. If he’s worrying constantly about your safety, he can’t do his own job properly.”

  “That’s true.”

  Travis parked, and they found a table inside the restaurant. After two drafts, steaks and baked potatoes, they were on the road again.

  “Where to first?”

  “Let’s try the motel. If they’re inside you can do the vehicle. If they’re gone, you can do the room.”

  “Yep.”

  BLAINE RUSHED home from headquarters, as fast as he could rush with Farrell driving and cursing his way through the rush hour traffic. Already later than he wanted it to be, Blaine tried deep breathing to calm himself. First dates were so fuckin stressful, you could expire before you ever got to be yourself—at least they were for him.

  Introverts make boring dates. Hope she likes boring.

  “Go get ready,” said Farrell, “I’ll park the truck and call the cab.” As Blacky limped up onto the porch Farrell hollered out the truck window. “You realize I could drive you?”

  Blaine nodded as he gave a shout out to Carmelita in the kitchen, then mounted the stairs as fast as he was able.

  He stripped down and noticed that the bandage was wrecked from the boot rubbing through his jeans. His leg ached. He’d been on his feet too much and he’d have to take pain meds. The boot helped take the pressure off, but it wasn’t a miracle worker.

  He stepped into his huge newly tiled shower and almost scalded himself. He twisted out of the way of the deluge and his leg caught the worst of it. “Shit, the water’s too hot and I soaked my bandage. Fuck.”

  After toweling off, he sat naked on the side of the bed trying to salvage what was left of the bandage the doctor had pointedly told him to keep dry. No good. It was wrecked. He’d have to start over. “Farrell, help me,” he hollered.

  Farrell galloped up the staircase and stopped dead in the doorway of Blaine’s room. The big blond ex-ganger was a couple years older than Blaine and made it his business to protect his foster brother. “What the hell are you doing? You ain’t even dressed?”

  Blaine pointed at the pile of gauze padding and tape on the carpet. “My leg got soaked. Can’t get dressed. I need Carm and I need more bandage stuff.”

  Farrell leaned down and glowered at the leg. “Look how red the fuckin stitches are. You shouldn’t be working.”

  “Thanks, doc.”

  “Shit, bro. At least get a pair of boxers on, and then you better call and tell new girl you’re running late.” Farrell jerked open a couple of drawers of Blaine’s dresser, and threw a pair of boxers at his brother. He stood at the top of the staircase and bellowed like a bull moose for Carmelita.

  Blaine had underwear on before Carm came running up the stairs thinking the worst. He pointed to his leg. “I need a new bandage. Can you do it?”

  “Si, but I don’t have the right size gauze pads and tape,” she said in Spanish.

  “I’ll go to Walgreens,” said Farrell. “Did you call her yet?”

  Blaine picked up his cell. “Doing it now.”

  Clearly amused by Blaine’s dilemma, Farrell leaned on the doorframe to eavesdrop.

  Pepper answered her cell on the first ring. “Hey, I’m almost ready.”

  “I’m… gonna be late. I wanted this to be perfect, but I was late getting home and… never mind. I feel like a jerk. I’m having a problem with my leg.”

  “Oh, no. Can I help?”

  “Umm… I guess you could. I forgot you were a nurse.”

  Pepper giggled. “How could you forget that?”

  “Brain dead. Hectic day.”

  “Tell me the problem.” Pepper listened, then said. “Why don’t I take a cab to your place, fix your leg and then we’ll order in. We can go out another night.”

  Blaine let out a sigh. She’s so fuckin nice.

  “Okay, but no cab. I’m sending my brother. He’s going to Walgreens anyway to replace the bandage stuff that I ruined.”

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  Farrell wore a smirk on his face. “I’m picking up your date, taking her to Walgreen’s and bringing her here? You’re an asshole. What’s her address?”

  TRAVIS CIRCLED the Easy Rest looking for the rental Jeep.

  “No customers,” said Annie. “Just them in number four.”

  “Are they all in one room?”

  “Cozy.”

  “I’ll pull in one spot over. Only take me a second to do it.” Travis parked, hopped out and was back in less than thirty seconds.

  “You’re quick.”

  “In some things.”

  “Let’s park at the bar next door and watch for them to leave.”

  “Can we make out while we wait?”

  “A little.”

  Twenty minutes later, Vince and his lackeys rounded the corner of the motel on foot. “Coming our way,” said Travis. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “That was the same bunch we saw before,” said Annie, “but not Linc and his three.”

  “Maybe he’s not staying here.”

  “He’s on my dime at the Hampton Inn.”

  “Shit. How can that be true?”

  “Classified.”

  “Fuck, I hate it when you say that,” said Travis. He pulled into the spot next to the Jeep. “But I know it’s true.”

  Travis leaned over the seat and grabbed a couple things from his tool box.

  “Think the door will give you trouble?”

  “Shouldn’t. Cheap hardware is easy to crack.”

  BLAINE SAT ON THE PORCH smoking and wondering how his first date with Pepper could get any worse. The thought hadn’t quite evaporated when the answer arrived in the form of two black SUV’s turning the corner with tires squealing.

  He dove behind the porch railing and flattened himself against the floor boards—an automatic reaction as his brain clicked into what was happening. Blasts from the automatic weapons rendered him temporarily deaf as the rounds penetrated the new shakes on the front of the house in an ugly crisscross pattern.

  Out of the corner of his right eye, a flash of white took the breath from his body. “Carm, no. Get back,” he hollered. “Stay inside.”

  Then as fast as they had appeared, they were gone.

  He was on his feet, no thought to his leg. He lifted Carm, pulled her out of the doorway, slammed the door behind him and called 911.

  She was speaking in Spanish, but he wasn’t hearing her. He used her apron, wadded it up and pressed it against her arm. Tears rolled down his face as he tried to hold it together.

  Lucky, I’m so lucky it was only her arm.

  Farrell returned before first response, jerked the door open and dropped to his knees. “Was it them?”

  “Black SUV’s—two of them. Get the Chief. Call Ortiz. Call tactical and sweep them. Now, before they get a chance…”

  Farrell stepped into the family room and yelled commands into his phone.

  Pepper stood in the doorway for a moment, pale as a ghost, sizing up the situation, then dropped down and took over. “Let me do this.” She took the apron from him. “Get water from the kitchen and a clean dish towel.”

  Blaine gripped the hall table and pulled himself up. He limped to the kitchen, grabbed a towel from the pile of clean ones Carm had on the counter, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

  “This is my fault. All my fault,” he mumbled as he handed the towel and the water to Pepper.

  “Pour yourself a shot and drink it.” Her tone was even and focused. “Pull yourself together.”

  She has emergency training.

  “Yep.” He turned back to the kitchen and did just that.

  Sirens sounded out front, and help had arrived. Paramedics were first through the door.

  Blaine hovered over Carm and Pepper took his hand and moved him out of the way. “Let them have some space to work.” She grabbed up the bag she had dropped on the floor and led him to the kitchen. “Let me quickly bandage your leg, so you can do what you need to do. I’ll go with your mother. You need to do your cop stuff.”

  He smiled but couldn’t speak as he sat on the kitchen chair and let her dress the wound.

  Farrell stomped into the kitchen as she was finishing up the tape. He glanced at the bandage and nodded. “We’re all set to go.”

  “Get my Beretta, my rifle and my Kevlar, bro.”

  “Yep, I’ll grab a couple of shotguns too.”

  Pepper leaned down, pushed Blaine’s long hair back from his face and kissed him on the mouth. “Be careful. Call me at the hospital when you can.”

  “I will.” He gave her a card from his wallet. “Call Lily, she’s my assistant and she’ll meet you at the hospital. She’s good with Carm and she’ll drive you.”

  Pepper shoved the card into her purse. Her snug black dress that appeared to be new had a big patch of blood on the side.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  Pepper winked at him. “Second date will be better.”

  ANNIE AND TRAVIS sat in the camper on the back of the green Ford and listened in on Vince and his men when they returned from the bar next to the Easy Rest.

  “Why in hell didn’t Linc meet us at the bar like I told him to?”

  “Maybe he’s gone rogue, boss.”

  “I have a feeling in my gut that he killed Jules.”

  “Don’t think so, boss. Linc is gutless.”

  “They’ve got Linc’s number,” Annie whispered to Travis.

  “Cops think it’s a pro.”

  “How does Vince know what the cops think?” asked Travis.

  “Contact on the inside?”

  “We need to find out who it is.”

  “Damn right,” said Annie, “Vince gets to live a little longer.”

  Travis cranked his head around in the dark and stared.

  “Nothing.”

  “Jesus, girl. I don’t even know you.”

  “That’s right, Travis. You don’t.”

  A cell phone rang in the motel room.

  “Yeah. Bullshit. Where the hell were you?”

  “Linc’s at the bar now. He had trouble finding it.”

  “How do you want us to do it, boss?”

  “We’ll have a beer and a short meeting, then when we go outside, we’ll do it there—in the parking lot.”

  “Be better to do it at the motel. Closer to the Jeep to haul his ass out to the country someplace.”

  “Knife fight outside the bar would look natural.”

  “Okay, play it by ear.”

  Annie picked up her Remington and tightened the screws on her scope.

  Travis watched with interest. “Where you going?”

  “Out.”

  “Goddammit, girl, let me help you.”

  “Stay here. I don’t need help.”

  Travis grabbed her arm. “Hold up, girl. At least wear an earbud so I can talk to you. If you need me, say so.”

  Annie blew out a breath and acquiesced. “Okay.”

  She left the camper and ran to the rear of the parking lot, choosing a tree that put her midway between the crummy bar and the shitty motel. She checked the distance through the sight and thought it was okay.

  I might not have to shoot at all, if Linc is only half the clown they think he is.

  From her vantage point, Annie watched Vince and his men cross the parking lot from the motel and go into the bar again.

  Wonder how long they’ll dick around in there?

  It had been a good twenty minutes when Travis spoke to her and scared her senseless. She’d only worn a fucking earbud a couple times before and when Travis drawled that lazy way of talking in her ear, she jumped and almost fell out of the tree.

  “You okay? They’re coming out now.”

  Annie could see them plainly and she was pissed. Travis talking to her, made her nuts. She worked alone. Not with some asshole talking in her ear. She jerked the thing out and shoved it in her pocket.

  They were all together now. Vince and his four, Linc and his three. Nine of the dirtiest fuckers she’d seen in a while.

  Who’s going to kill who?

  She peered at the miserable group edging towards the darkened area of the parking lot and thought she could smell them. The way bikers always smelled—leather, sweat, smoke, beer and oil. A combination she lived with all her life. An addiction.

  She smiled wondering if there was biker rehab.

  A quick one-eighty. Not many vehicles. Not a popular destination.

  Does Linc know what’s going on? Is he ready? He’s not the sharpest tool.

  Linc raised his voice. “I didn’t kill your cousin, Vince, I swear it.”

  “You were here in the same motel—no other customers—I checked with the manager. You and him. You killed him.”

  You’re lying, Vinnie. Bikers are professional liars.

  “You got that wrong, boss. I didn’t stay here that night. I been staying at the Hampton Inn. I got a free room.”

  “How the hell did you get a free room? Oh, I get it, the black-haired bitch you been hanging with. You’re fuckin her for a free room. Where is she?”

  Another lie.

  “We had a fight.”

  “But she’s still paying for your room?” He gave Linc a shove and Linc staggered backwards. “Expect me to believe that?”

  “I’m just using her for a free ride,” said Linc. “That’s what women are for.”

  Wrong answer.

  Annie could feel the heat rising in her neck and she wondered what she had ever seen in Linc Bolivar. He was not Sam, and never would be, even if he lived to grow up.

  “I’m going to get some sleep,” said Vince. “You boys see that Linc gets back to his luxury hotel.”

  Vince walked towards the motel with two of his boys beside him. The rest surrounded Linc, pushing and shoving him. They had their orders.

  They’re going to beat him to death.

  She grabbed the ear thing and hollered to Travis. “Phone it in. Have them all arrested.”

  “That the way you want to play it?”

  “Have to for now.”

  Annie watched through her scope as two squads arrived, and the bikers scattered. The uniforms caught a couple and Travis rounded up the rest with the help of his shotgun. From where she sat in the crotch of the oak, she couldn’t see Linc clearly. He was just a form lying on the ground in the pitch dark. The paramedics hovered over him, then eased him onto a stretcher.

  “Find out what hospital,” she said in Travis’ ear.

  “Roger that, boss.”

  BLAINE RODE in the Chief’s SUV as they followed the tactical unit’s truck. All of Ortiz’ men from the gang squad in a dozen cruisers with sirens blaring and lights strobing rushed to the area where the Latin Princes roamed free. Free at least for the next few minutes.

 

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