Rock point collection, p.77
Rock Point Collection, page 77
Like the fucking O.K. Corral, bodies everywhere.
Despite probably having sold me out, I’m sad Rowtag lost his much too young life. He certainly was not the mastermind, and was probably an easy target to manipulate.
Britney was alive, lucky bitch. Her injuries were relatively minor, a good gouge just above her ear, apparently enough to knock her down. Dylan turned out to look the most serious and was airlifted to Durango, but the rest of us are on our way to Farmington by ambulance.
“Is Ahiga okay?”
“He’s twelve years old, riding up front in an ambulance with lights going, what do you think?” he answers, a smirk on his face.
-
“Do you have your phone?”
I’m sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, waiting for the nurse to come back with some painkillers, should I need them. Ouray is pacing back and forth in front of the small window, like a caged animal.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because mine is still somewhere in the parking lot at the clinic, along with your ride, or in police custody, and I need to talk to Damian before I head in to question Britney.”
“Not sure that’s a good idea,” Ouray grumbles. He looks as out of place in the clinical setting as I feel.
“My nose is set, the cut’s stitched up, and both she and Manny are here. It’s not like I have to go out of my way.”
“Kaga’s already here. He’s in the waiting room with the boy, ready to take us home.”
“I can’t go home, Ouray. I still have a job to do.”
His lips press together and he stares at the floor, taking in a deep breath that make his nostrils flare. My man is not happy.
“Fine,” he bites off. “Don’t mind me. I’ll take the boy home. Here’s the phone.” He pulls it from his pocket and tosses it on the bed next to me before walking to the door.
“Wait.” He stops with his back turned, hand on the doorknob. “Don’t be like this, Ouray.” That has him swing around to face me and the wrecked expression on his face is a shock.
“Be like this? Like what? Thought I lost you, Luna. Thought I lost the boy. My heart hasn’t stopped squeezing yet, and all I can think about is gettin’ you both home so I can fuckin’ breathe again. But like you said, you got a job to do. Go do it.”
This time he’s out the door before I can respond, and I can feel my own heart squeeze.
“Ms. Roosberg?” The friendly young nurse walks in, holding a small bag. “Dr. Evans suggests to take as needed. I put a card in there with your follow-up appointment for next Friday.”
I manage to nod and take the bag from her hand. She’s already halfway down the hallway before I can get words from my mouth. “Two gunshot wounds were brought in around the same time I came in. Would you happen to know where I can find them?” The look on her face is one of suspicion, so I quickly clarify. “FBI, I’m Special Agent Luna Roosberg.”
“Let me direct you to my supervisor.”
It takes me twenty minutes and a phone call to Damian—who is able to get word to the officers guarding her at the hospital—to get me in to see Britney.
Her wrists are strapped to the bed and she already looks fit to be tied. She becomes irate, struggling against her binds when I walk in.
“You!”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“I should’ve pulled the trigger when I could,” she spits out.
“Probably.” I stay calm, just shrugging my shoulders as I pull up a stool. I know I’m likely adding fuel to her fire by pretending to be unaffected, that’s the idea. Angry people tend to say more than they intend to, which would serve me well.
“This is all on you. I had Ouray by the balls, it was just a matter of time for me to get that ring on my finger. That pimpled kid was an easy target, he caved at the first taste of my pussy and the promise of a patch. It would’ve been the perfect setup. And after all that work I put in—you show up—wrecking it all!” She screeches the last.
“Everything all right in here?” I turn to find the policeman standing guard outside poking his head in.
“Just ducky,” I smile at him before swinging back around. “Sorry for the interruption.” I lay it on thick to poke her some more. “You were saying?”
“Fuck off, you androgynous bitch.” I raise one eyebrow, but otherwise keep my face blank.
“You were just explaining how you planned to fuck your way into Arrow’s Edge, and I saw evidence of that with my own eyes.” I feign a full body shiver. “But I wonder; does your daddy know your favorite pastime is getting gang-banged on the pool table?”
I’m fishing, but luckily she bites. “He don’t care, as long as the job gets done.”
“You sound perfect for each other.”
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she snarls. “I do my daddy proud.”
-
“She’s what?”
I’m in the hospital cafeteria, scarfing down a stale bagel and some weak coffee to get something in my stomach, talking to Damian. Outside it’s getting dark, and I haven’t had a thing since breakfast, which seems like days ago.
“She’s Wheels’s daughter,” I repeat, my mouth full.
“You’re kidding me. How did we not catch that?”
“Probably not listed on her birth certificate. I don’t know. She did say her ‘daddy’ always looked after her, so I assume he knew. Although what kind of father would order his daughter to whore herself out, I don’t know.”
“Any clues as to motive?”
“She mentioned something about merging clubs to control the region. Apparently she’s been a busy girl, Salinas admitted he’d been banging her off and on until she started fishing for something permanent. Then he got cold feet.”
“So you talked to him already.”
“Yeah. I’m not a big fan of the guy, but I believe he had no clue what he was stepping into. He was surprised when she called out of the blue after disappearing, and told him she was in trouble, hiding out in a container across from his compound. He seems to think the objective was to lure both him and Ouray there and make it look like they took each other out, leaving both their clubs vulnerable.”
“Did Salinas know one of his guys was part of the plot?”
“Nope. That was a shocker. I think they’d hoped to maybe get Paco on board as well, but his loyalty to Ouray is strong. Guess poor Rowtag was next, and a much easier target, although I’m not so sure Daddy Wheels was happy with that choice. I think maybe you should come in and question both of them, get some clearer answers, I’m not at my best.”
“Right. You’re hurt. Shit, I already got an earful from Blackfoot when I told him you seemed to be back in the saddle. I should be there shortly. I’m just finishing up with local law enforcement here. Why don’t you go home?”
Go home. That’d be funny if it wasn’t so sad.
I suddenly don’t know where home is, and even if I did, I have no fucking way to get there.
Ouray
I walked out, a fire burning in my gut, and had every intention of taking the boy and heading back to Durango. If not for Kaga’s suggestion we pick up the Traverse and leave it in the hospital parking lot for Luna, I would’ve been home already.
What changed my mind was the scent of her shampoo. A trace of it lingered inside the SUV, reminding me of this morning, when she stood in the door opening, her hair still wet from her shower, telling me she loves me.
That’s not something you walk away from easily. That’s something you fight for.
So I’ve sat here for the past hour and a half, in the parking lot of the hospital, with my eyes on the main doors, waiting for her to come outside. Unfortunately, without a phone. I gave mine to her, and hers was shoved in the purse that was left by police on the passenger seat, with a broken screen. I can’t get the damn thing to work, and I don’t want to risk missing her if I walk in there and start looking. So I sit and wait.
The moment I see her walking out, her shoulders slumped as she takes a seat on the bench right outside the entrance, I get out from behind the wheel. She must’ve heard the car door slam, because her head snaps to and she jumps up as soon as she spots me.
God she looks a mess, the nose splint they fitted her with looks ridiculously large on her small face, and dark bruising surrounds the cut on the bridge of her nose and around her eyes. But the eyes themselves are beautiful as ever, blue and shimmering like orbs of polished glass in her battered face.
She starts walking toward me and doesn’t stop until her cheek is pressed against my chest, and her arms around my waist.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble in her hair when I can feel her shoulders shaking.
“That’s my line,” she counters between sniffles. “I should’ve come after you. Explained.”
“I shouldn’t’ve walked out like that.” I lift her chin with a finger and look into her now red-rimmed eyes. “Is it gonna hurt if I kiss you?”
Her mouth twitches. “Don’t care if it does.”
I’m gentle, or as gentle as I can remember to be, pulling away much faster than I want to. “Ready to come home or is there somewhere else you need to be first?” I’m a little confused when her eyes well up again.
“Home. I was just thinking I wasn’t sure where that would be.”
“Wherever you want, as long as it’s with me.”
With her lips pressed together she nods.
We’re just walking to the SUV when a black Expedition pulls in, Damian behind the wheel.
“Taking her home?” he says to me, when he gets out of the car.
“Planning to.”
“I’m right here, guys,” Luna pipes up before peeking inside Damian’s vehicle. “Where’d you leave Keith?”
“He’s driving Dylan’s truck back to Durango. I just got a call from Jasper, who’s at Mercy. Dylan’s out of surgery. The bullet did some damage to his shoulder, but they were able to patch it up and he should recover with some rehab.”
“Shit. He’ll be pissed he’s benched.”
“I’ve already put a call in to James. He’s sending us a couple of his guys on loan since you’ll both be out for a bit.”
I feel Luna’s shoulders snap back. “Me? Why would I be out? It’s just my nose.”
“Bureau rules, Roosberg, you know that. Only reason I let you follow up with Salinas and the woman is because this is your case, and I didn’t have anyone else at the ready. You’ll need medical clearance, which won’t be until your follow-up appointment at best, and then it still has to be approved by HQ before I can put you back on rotation.”
“Can I at least sit in on questioning?”
“Busting my balls here, Roosberg. How about listening in? It’s the best I can do.”
I have to bite my lip when she huffs dramatically at his suggestion.
“We should be off. There are a few people at the clubhouse I’m sure are eager to see you,” I prompt her.
“Oh my God, Ahiga, how’s he doing?”
“He should be fine, probably being pampered by Momma.”
“On that note, I should get inside and see if I can pry some more information loose from Daddy’s little girl.”
I let go of Luna and stick out my hand at Damian. The moment his palm hits mine, I pull him in for a one-armed hug. “Thanks for looking out for my girl, brother.”
“Hey, she’s ours too.” He winks and, with a soft fist-tap to Luna’s chin, walks into the hospital.
-
“What was that Daddy’s little girl business?” I ask Luna, once we pull out on the road.
“Not sure if I should be telling you this when you’re driving, but the daddy Britney was talking about is actually her father—Wheels.”
“No fucking way.”
“Oh yeah. It’s a tangled web and we’ve not even gotten to the bottom of it, but let’s save that for tomorrow. I need to get something off my chest first.”
I reach over and take her hand in mine, slipping my fingers between hers and giving it a little squeeze. “Shoot.”
“I want you to understand that my job has been the most important thing in my life since I joined the Bureau. Bar none.”
“There’s no need to—”
“Just let me get this out, okay?” she asks and I nod.
“But that wasn’t the reason I was so focused on it. I wanted to see this assignment through to the end as soon as possible, so that when I pack up my house and move in with you, you’ll know you’re my only motivation.”
It’s probably illegal, and the car behind me doesn’t appear to appreciate it, but I pull off the road onto the shoulder, so I can properly kiss my old lady.
-
Ahiga abandons his PlayStation game the instant he spots Luna and barrels into her so hard, I have to brace her from behind.
“I’m okay, sweetheart,” she automatically mumbles into his freshly washed hair. It doesn’t seem to matter, he’s not able to hear a word.
The clean hair is probably Momma’s doing, she is standing in the door opening to the kitchen, dabbing at her eyes with a tea towel. I step away when I notice Kaga nudging his head to the office.
“Everything okay here?”
“Here, yes,” he says with a grin. “At your house, not so much.”
It takes me a minute before I realize what he’s talking about.
“Fuck, the dog.”
“Yeah man, I knew you were going to pick him up this morning, so I went to check right after I got back here with the boy. Figured you’d want to keep that a surprise. Shit, man, and I mean that literally: shit all over the place. Took me fuckin’ half an hour to clean that up. You’re lucky you have tile and wood flooring, cleaning up carpet would’ve been a bitch. Which reminds me, you’re out of paper towels.”
“Thanks, brother.”
“You’ll owe me—I’m good with that,” he grins. “He’s walked, has fresh water, and I dumped some more of that food in his bowl, but I suggest not leaving him alone for too long.”
Twenty minutes later, I open my front door and shove Ahiga ahead of me. The sound of galloping footsteps greets us, and the boy freezes in front of me as the big dog slides to a halt at his feet.
A soft “oh” comes from Luna, who is peeking around me to see what the holdup is.
I didn’t know you had a dog, he says, when I step around him to help with introductions.
He’s not mine, he’s yours.
Fucking kills to see the disbelief on the kid’s face morph into tears. Goddammit. Now I’m swallowing down a lump as I watch him drop to his knees and wrap his arms around the big mutt’s neck, and turns his face to me.
“Taank-yew”
THIRTY
Luna
“Jack!”
I’m already five minutes late meeting Ouray at the clubhouse.
Standing in the back door, I can see the damn dog sit on a rock he seems to have claimed as his perch, overlooking the lake below, but he doesn’t even acknowledge me. Maybe he needs more time to get used to the name the boy picked for him.
He knows how to listen to Ouray when he whistles on his fingers—a piercing sound that hurts my ears—and after practicing, for maybe an hour, Ahiga mastered the skill as well. I’m the only person in this household who cannot seem to do more than spray spit all over my hand.
I turn to Ahiga, who is shoveling down some cereal. Can you call him? He’s back on the rock.
We’ve had him for just a week, but already he’s made his preferences clear. Ahiga, then Ouray, and way at the bottom of his priority list is yours truly.
Ouray told Ahiga if he wants the dog, he’s to feed it and clean up after it, which he’s done so far. I hope it lasts once the newness wears off.
This whole sitting on a rock business started on Monday, when Ouray decided Jack didn’t have to be put on a leash back here. There isn’t any fencing, and I was worried the dog would run off, but Ouray was convinced he’d come back. He sniffed around, peed on a few blades of grass, and sat on that damn rock for an hour and a half before he came back to the house.
I flinch at the sharp sound of the boy’s whistle, and immediately Jack comes trotting to the house.
Did you pack his food like I asked?
In my backpack.
Good, grab your stuff, and don’t forget Jack’s leash. We’re late.
Today we’re moving my stuff. There’s really no rush, because I paid up to the end of October, but with a busy month ahead, it makes sense just to get it over with. Both Ouray and I received our all-clear so he can drive, and I hope to be back on the schedule as of Monday.
I was able to stand in the small viewing room at the police station while Damian and Keith questioned both Wheels and Dario, neither of whom were particularly forthcoming. Unfortunately, Britney hadn’t been released from the hospital yet, there were some complications with an infection she incurred in the hospital and she’s only now turning a corner. Damian says he hadn’t been able to get much more from her than I had that first night, so we’ve all been waiting to put the thumbscrews on her.
Jill’s husband, Hanshaw, was questioned as well, and he’d been able to offer some information on a possible motive, albeit under duress. He mentioned a meeting he’d accompanied Wheels to late July, in Corpus Christi in Texas. He’d met with a couple of ‘businessmen’ looking for protection for the transport of stolen arms through the Rockies.
The old man had been gung-ho—the money offered hard to refuse—but the organization wanted him to guarantee or force an alliance with other MCs on the route to ensure safe passage. It was clear that would be a problem.
Wheels returned to Shiprock and put the proposal on the table, but with the potential for violence between the historically friendly MCs—something few had the stomach for—the club voted him down. Hanshaw thought that would be the end of it.
Apparently not for Wheels.
