Snared (Grizzly MC Book 2)

by Brook Wilder

  “You don’t have to look so spooked,” he says. “I only came over here to apologize for the other day—and some official business. But mostly to apologize. I was drunk; stupid decisions… you know.

  I’m sure it was.

  I stay a decent distance away from him. I nervously dig the toe of my shoe into the mousy brown library carpet. How am I supposed to proceed with this? The problem with Lyle is that you never know what he’s really trying to get out of you, just that he’s angling to get something out of you. I’d fallen for it once, and I don’t want to do so again.

  “It’s fine, Officer Johnson…”

  “Call me Lyle; we’re not strangers.”

  “Lyle… It’s fine. No hard feelings.”

  He smiles. Lyle would be handsome if he didn’t have a mean streak that ruined it. I’d thought at one point he was charismatic, and I suppose he is, in the same way that a devil would be.

  I clear my throat.

  “You said you were here on business?”

  “Yeah. I need access to newspapers from about three years back. You remember the Beth Roberts disappearance?”

  My brow raises.

  “Beth Roberts? That was…”

  “Dominic Jones’ girlfriend. We’re reopening the missing persons’ case.”

  That surprises me, but I don’t ask for details as I lead him with trepidation back to the archive room. Beth Roberts had been a hot topic three years ago when she’d disappeared. Dominic had expended no resource to try and find her, until he’s apparently given up and accepted that she’d just skipped town, leaving him alone.

  My curiosity gets the better of me as I begin to print out the articles for Lyle’s use.

  “Is Dominic looking for her again?”

  He shakes his head.

  “No. The department is.”

  He glances around as if to make sure that no one’s around.

  “We’ve been getting reports that women along his routes he goes singing on have been going missing lately. We’re just looking into things to make sure there’s nothing we overlooked.”

  He thinks Dominic has something to do with it.

  I hold my tongue as the last of the articles print out. I staple the articles together as they’re needed, mind reeling. Why bring this up after three years? Don’t people go missing at concerts all the time? Why tell me so much? There’s so much about this that’s strange and out of hand.

  “Thanks, Amy.”

  When he takes the article stacks from me, he steps a little closer, into my space. I back against the archive computer as he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “You take care of yourself, Amy,” he says. “Those Grizzlies are bad news, whatever you think about the Vipers.”

  Lyle takes his articles and leaves us alone. I let out a breath and lean fully against the computer, heart thumping. I’ve had too many encounters with Lyle in such a short amount of time, and he leaves me with that horrifying notion about Dominic. Could he really have had something to do with Beth?

  I’ve never spent much time with the MCs, not the Grizzlies nor the Vipers. I’ve been to a few of Dominic’s concerts, though; he’s an amazing singer. And Abel’s always singing the Grizzlies praises. Overall, they’re probably good people, but as a librarian, I’m very versed in Tomahawk’s history. It’d be foolish of me to pretend like there’s things I don’t know. It makes it hard to see the benefit of the MCs in the grand scheme of things.

  Those Grizzlies are bad news, whatever you think of the Vipers.

  Problem was, I knew exactly what the Vipers were capable of. Adam… He hadn’t just dropped dead. At the time, even Lyle had told me he took my and everyone else’s suspicions about the Vipers’ involvement. Adam had worked with Abel on the force, uncovering Viper operations before they could really get ahead of the game, and he’d died for it.

  Could Dominic be as bad as the person who killed Adam, though? He had stood up for me against Lyle, keeping Abel from getting into a fight with him. Abel, James… hell, anyone I knew from the Grizzlies loved Dominic. Maybe it was because he was a musician; he was good at what he did.

  “Amy? Are you alright? I saw Officer Creepy leave.”

  I blush, startling as Maddison pokes her head into the archive room. The stark opposite of Jeremy with dyed, mint-colored hair and a penchant for rockabilly fashion, she’s 19 years of sheer rebellion rolled up into one hell of a reliable assistant. She attends a local community college, and with her tenacious attitude she has no problem calling Lyle ‘Officer Creep’. Sometimes to his face.

  “I’m fine, Maddison,” I assure her. “I was just finishing something up here.”

  “Well, if you ever need me to pepper spray him…”

  “You know that’s illegal.”

  She snickers.

  “You’re not gonna turn me in today, are you, Boss?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I am a stickler for the law.”

  “Well, you’ve given me a heads up. Means it’s time to hit the road.”

  Maddison leaves with a comical cackle, and I shake my head. It’s good to have someone like Maddison around.

  When she’s gone, I turn my attention back to the archives. Lip bitten, I quickly print out the articles I had pulled up for Lyle, intending to comb through them later tonight. Maybe I can get a better picture of Dominic and Beth’s situation and maybe—just maybe—get to the bottom of the strange things going on around here.

  ***

  It’s been three weeks since the disappearance of Beth Roberts. Search efforts have slowed down at the direction of Officer Lyle Johnson, who says that it’s likely Beth Roberts simply skipped town. It’s uncertain where she went or with whom; her boyfriend, local singer and member of the Grizzly Motorcycle Club, Dominic Jones, insists that something must have happened to her and encourages anyone with information to please come forward.

  All of the articles regarding Beth’s disappearance read like this. Not too many leads, Lyle denying that there was any foul play, and Dominic insisting that there was. There’s a disconnect, I’m finding. Never in these articles does it seem like Beth’s disappearance was ever taken seriously by anyone but Dominic. One article briefly mentioned her lack of family connections, essentially making Dominic the only person Beth had in her corner.

  It would make her easy to disappear.

  The thought makes me shudder, and from there I move on to looking up the disappearances happening along Dominic’s music routes. There’s isn’t a lot being reported and nothing linking Dominic specifically to them. But the more I look into all of this, the more I see a pattern forming. Young women, usually between twenty and twenty-one, brunette with blue eyes. It’s enough to make me compare pictures of the missing women with the last pictures taken of Beth Roberts. She was twenty-two when she disappeared, was brunette with blue eyes.

  I can’t help but swallow. Why do all these women who’ve disappeared from Dominic’s shows look like Beth?

  I’m knee deep in a possible conspiracy. What do I even do with this? Do I take it to Abel? Keep it to myself? Ever since Adam, I’ve stayed fifty steps away from MC drama. How could I even consider…

  “Hello?”

  It’s well past closing and, not expecting someone to be in here, I gasp. Heart racing, I put my hand to it, thinking that maybe it’ll calm me down. Reading about missing women and possible foul play does nothing for already frazzled nerves.

  I let out a breath and slouch against the chair in my office before I push myself up to see what sort of night owl has come to the library at this time. I pause at my office door, stunned to see who’s standing there.

  It’s Dominic.

  Chapter Three

  Dom

  What am I doing here?

  I pull up to the library where Amy works. I got the place from Abel and rode over after having a small business talk with James about doing some more shows. To be honest, I’d been a bit distracted. Focusing on playing a few of t
he bars outside of the Grizzly for good PR and recruiting took a backseat to thinking about Amy. Abel had said she was doing fine, but I couldn’t get the look on her face the night Lyle decided it was a good idea to fuck with her out of my mind. Part of me felt a little bad about it, having drawn that kind of attention to her situation in the first place, especially since it involved Lyle.

  It explains the bouquet of flowers I have in hand as I slide off my bike. The parking lot is empty and dark, but a little two-door car sits close to the stairs leading up to the entrance, and a couple of lights illuminate the otherwise dark windows. I trudge up those stairs, books thudding heavy against the mossy stairs. I’m surprised that the library isn’t locked, given the time of night it is; maybe Amy’s just used to being here late?

  “Hello?”

  The library is totally empty. It’s kind of creepy, having all these shelves of books but no people around and about—and no Amy, either.

  Weird.

  I frown, walking around. A sound comes from one of the side rooms and, a few seconds later Amy appears from a room to the left. Her eyes widen when she sees me. That nervousness is back—or is that more guarded apprehension causing her eyes to narrow in my direction?

  Whatever the reason, I come closer to her. I smile, figuring a friendly face is something that she needs. She tentatively takes the bouquet I hold out for her.

  “We’re closed.”

  Her tone is clipped, and she sets the flowers on a nearby table. So much for a warm welcome. It’s strange and unexpected, but it doesn’t stop me from smiling at her some more. That always works on women.

  “I know. I just wanted to come by and…”

  “In the middle of the night, when no-one’s here?”

  Okay. Maybe the smile doesn’t work on all women. Hell of an exception, Amy Miller.

  “You want me to come back tomorrow, during office hours?”

  Her narrowed eyes narrow further, until she’s sighing with a shaking head.

  “No. It’s fine. I just hadn’t expected anyone to come by. It’s late.”

  “You’re still here,” I point out.

  “I like how calm it is at night.”

  Defensive.

  Hands up to show I didn’t mean anything by it, I shrug.

  “To each their own. I just wanted to come by and say I’m sorry you had to deal with Lyle the other night. I don’t imagine that was fun, and you seemed pretty shaken up. Abel said that you were okay, but I wanted to make sure myself, especially with how everything’s been lately.”

  For the first time during this exchange, she reacts the way I’m used to—she blushes. Her gaze averts as she digs the toe of her shoe into the floor.

  “Oh! Thank you.”

  She sounds hesitant, and I suppose I can’t blame her too much. Maybe she’s one of those aloof types.

  “Hey! No problem.”

  And then there’s silence.

  Well. This is fucking weird.

  “Shouldn’t you be closing up soon?”

  I look around, wondering how on Earth she’s not spooked by the place. It sure as hell feels weird and creepy, being all empty.

  “Oh, yeah.” She glances back to what I assume is her office. “I was just doing some research.”

  “That’s cool. What on?”

  She doesn’t look at me.

  “Nothing important.”

  Right.

  She goes back to her office, and I stand there, figuring I could be a gentleman and at least walk her out. It’s night, and with everything going on, it seems like a good thing to do. I think she’s surprised when she comes out of her office; she eyes me, cautious.

  “You are staying here?”

  “Well, I was going to walk you out, if that was okay? It’s… ya know, dark.”

  I nod to one of the windows, showing the void on the other side.

  “Right.”

  Amy grabs the bouquet, and the walk outside is quiet and awkward. I get the impression that she doesn’t want to be around me; she’s stiff, and I could call it nervous, but it’s not. It’s not that. There’s a level of fear there, and I’m not sure where it’s coming from.

  When we get to her car, we linger beside it. I want to wait until she’s in and driving off before leaving. Amy doesn’t seem to like this. Her keys hover over the lock to her door, and she looks back at me.

  “Are you leaving?”

  My brow goes up. Well then.

  “Yeah. Was just making sure you left safe. Have a good evening, Amy.”

  A flicker of something crosses her face, but I don’t stick around to give her time to act on whatever the look was. I’m not sure what I’ve done to her to make he upset, but I slip onto my bike and wait until she pulls out of the parking lot and drives away. When she’s out of sight, I sigh.

  Guess that’s what I get for trying to be nice.

  ***

  “Yo, where do you need this, Lena?”

  I peer around the huge box I’m carrying in my arms. Lena stands on the other side, directing James up the stairs. He has his own huge box, careening in his arms as he totes it on up. Between gifts from other grizzlies and some folks in town, James and Lena are basically set for life with the baby stuff.

  “What’s in that box again?”

  “Baby clothes. Lots of them, too; this shit is heavy.”

  “Upstairs, too.”

  Great.

  I trudge up the stairs, passing James on the way down.

  “Didn’t expect so much manual labor with you being a future father.”

  “You and me both, Dom.”

  James and Lena’s nursery is full of books. I stack mine on top of a sizeable tower. When I make sure they’re not going to topple over, I head back downstairs, where James and Lena are taking a break. Together, they’re kind of cute. I decide to plop beside them obnoxiously.

  “You gonna have any good grub tonight, Lena?”

  “For you? No.”

  “Ouch. You wound me.”

  “You bring it on yourself,” James says with a snicker.

  We order a pizza, though. Nice and greasy, while we sit in the living room with a movie playing in the background. I’m quick to tuck in and get my face stuffed. I want to get this over a little more quickly; helping James and Lena wasn’t the only reason I came over today.

  “You’ve got this constipated look on your face, Dom,” James says through a mouthful of pizza.

  I swallow thickly around my own delicious, greasy slice.

  “Wanted your opinion on something.”

  Finishing up the pizza, I give James and Lena the run-down on my attempted apology to Amy and the strange way she reacted. I don’t want to leave everything hanging the way it did, but I also have no idea how to navigate Amy’s distance, her aloofness, the possible distaste that underlay it all. I’m not used to women – or to people in general, but especially women – acting like that. I don’t know what I’ve done.

  By the time I’m done, James has an amused look on his face, though Lena seems a little troubled.

  “Smooth singer didn’t charm over a lady? What a turn of events,” James teases me.

  I toss a pillow his way.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Dom?” Lena speaks up. “Do you know if Lyle was there yesterday?”

  The question surprises me. “What’s Lyle got to do with it?”

  Lena shifts a little on the couch.

  “Marc had a lot of suppressing operations going on at once,” she says. “Little sneaky things to keep Grizzlies operations constantly facing problems. One of them—an old one—involved you. Marc wanted to use Beth’s disappearance against you and turn public sympathy away from the Grizzlies. It was at Lyle’s suggestion that they didn’t do that, though; he thought it was too risky. But if Lyle was there, where records are kept, and he said something to someone…”

  “That sounds like a bit of a leap, Lena,” James says.

  She shakes her head. “You don’t
understand. Lyle is someone who believe in long laid plans. Amy’s shaken and rude with you after you chose to humiliate him in front of Grizzlies and Vipers? Over Amy, no less? For Lyle, this isn’t off. There’s a reason people call him the Devil. It doesn’t hurt that everyone knows that, if someone knew something about any sort of past history in Tomahawk, it’d be Amy.”