by Freya Barker
The kids haven’t quite finished their lunches but Lissie offers to take them to her place after. Her son, Jesse, fits right between Ezrah and Kiara in age, and the three get along well.
“Can we go please, Nana?” my baby asks, and when I look over at her brother he nods enthusiastically as well.
The kids have been quiet and well-behaved this morning and probably have some energy to burn off.
“Oh, all right. But you behave,” I caution them.
Poor Finn is still wailing when Brick clips his car seat on the base.
“You sure there’s nothin’ wrong?” he asks, concern on his face.
“I’m sure Lissie’s right. We’re just not used to him crying a lot. I’ll get in the back with him, keep an eye out.”
The sudden quiet and the truck’s motion quickly lull him. By the time we pull into the drive to the compound he’s fast asleep.
“What the fuck?” I hear Brick say, as he suddenly stops the truck in the middle of the driveway.
Up ahead the gate is swung open, chain and padlock hanging useless.
He pulls out his phone.
“Ouray, who left the compound last?”
CHAPTER 10
Brick
“YOU HAVE GOT to be shitting me?”
Ouray is stomping around the clubhouse like a caged bear.
“You know this, Ouray,” his wife tries to calm him down.
The chief is pissed because Luna had called the Durango PD on their way up to the compound. They were refusing him entry to his office and the bedrooms in the rear. All were apparently tossed and the wait is for the forensics team to get here.
Despite his good relationship with local law enforcement, he still doesn’t like them up in his business. Frankly, neither do I.
We’ve all been relegated to the main room. Lisa and myself were told to wait here until the cops go through her cottage and the boys’ bunkhouse to see if anything is disturbed there.
“It’s my own goddamn stuff. Not like my fingerprints won’t be all over the place already.”
“Suck it up,” the five foot nothing FBI agent spits at her husband, not in the least intimidated by the sheer bulk he holds over her, or the fierce scowl on his face. “We’re in the middle of investigating the death of the daughter of one of our own, who happened to be on her way here. You’re a smart man, Ouray, I know you don’t believe in coincidences either. Sit down, have a fucking beer, and chill your tits.”
I can’t help the snort, Lisa barely claps her hand over her mouth to stifle her snicker, but the rest of the guys have no such compunctions and bust out laughing.
It looks like Ouray is struggling to contain his own smile, hooking his wife behind the neck and giving her a hard kiss.
“Chill my tits, Sprite?”
I can’t believe we just came from my daughter’s funeral to find someone broke into the compound while we were gone, and yet here we are, the whole clubhouse laughing.
It feels good, and oddly enough there is no guilt.
As heartbreaking as the funeral was, it also brought me some peace. Part of that was the words Ouray and Sophia shared during the service, they went a long way toward healing the guilt that’s been eating at me. But what felt like absolution was Lisa’s rich, soulful voice singing about grace and salvation, while her hand clung to mine.
I had no idea she could sing like that. I don’t think anyone else did either. Another layer of appeal added to the countless other qualities Lisa checks off. Some of those are no more than a promise so far, but I have every intention to sample.
“I’m glad the kids aren’t here,” Lisa mutters beside me.
“Agreed.”
I put an arm around her shoulders and kiss the side of her head.
“Do you think they were in the cottage?”
“Actually,” Luna says, walking up. “Ramirez called me a bit ago. He’s at your house and it does look like they were in there. Not too bad,” she quickly adds at Lisa’s sharp hiss. “From what I understand the search was more methodical than destructive. Besides, it sounds like they may have been interrupted. They never made it up to the bedrooms.”
“Someone tipped them off,” I suggest. “Kept an eye on us?”
“Did you notice anything?”
I try to remember if I’d seen anything out of the ordinary, but I can’t remember. I wasn’t exactly looking for anything.
“Did you?” I ask Lisa, but she shakes her head, I turn to Luna. “What the fuck could they be looking for?”
She takes a sip of the coffee Lisa put on earlier and looks at me.
“Be a hell of a lot easier if we knew. Kelsey was on her way here—that’s a fact—she was in some kind of trouble, and someone was upset enough to run her off the road. It’s possible she had something they want back. Maybe information they don’t want out there.”
“You think it’s connected to Safe Load?”
“Can’t rule anything out at this point, Brick.”
Tony Ramirez walks into the clubhouse and his eyes find me. He just nudges his head and walks right back out.
“Sugar, I’ll be right back,” I let Lisa know. “You good with Finn?”
She snorts and rolls her eyes.
“Like you need to ask. He’s good here. I’m gonna start on dinner soon anyway.”
I plant a quick kiss on her mouth and follow Ramirez outside. He’s waiting by the drive up to the cottage.
“Would you be able to tell if anything was out of place in the cottage?”
He starts walking toward Lisa’s place and I fall in step beside him.
“Surface stuff, yes.”
“Good.” We walk around a forensics van parked in front of the cottage. “They’re finishing up, but I want to make sure we didn’t miss anything.”
The wardrobe closet is open, kids shoes and coats piled on the floor. Somebody tossed the couch pillows, and the drawers from the TV stand are pulled open. Yet the TV is still there, as well as the tablet underneath, even the remote seems to have been left alone. A lot of the surfaces are covered with a thin film of fingerprint powder, but it shouldn’t take much to put this back together.
The kitchen is a different story. The fridge and freezer doors are open and most of the contents are tossed on the floor. Drawers dumped out, some cupboards opened, boxes of cereal, crackers, even a bag of flour emptied on the floor of the small pantry.
“Fuck, what a mess.”
“Detective Ramirez?” One of the techs comes walking in. “I think you should come outside.”
Tony starts moving right away and I’m close behind him, but I freeze in my tracks when I see the CPS caseworker standing in the hallway, looking around the place with her mouth hanging open.
“Can I help you?” Ramirez asks her, but her gaze lands on me, and stays there.
“Mr. Paver,” she starts, and I can tell from the tone of her voice I’m not going to like where this is going. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you where the child is?”
“Why?” My tone is less than friendly, given the day I’ve had. “What are you doing here?”
“We received a phone call from a concerned citizen.”
I’m desperately hanging on to the end of my rope as I take a menacing step closer. She takes a small step back.
“A ‘concerned’ citizen?” I ask, my voice dripping sarcasm, when Tony intervenes and pulls me back.
“Do you have a warrant?”
That gets the woman’s attention.
“I’m…well…this is just a welfare-check,” she stutters at Tony. “We don’t usually need a warrant for that.”
“You do when you walk into a house uninvited.”
She takes a few steps back before lifting her chin. “I’ll still need to do a welfare-check on the child.”
“It’s fine,” I tell Ramirez. “I’ll take her to the clubhouse.”
She turns and walks out in front of us.
“So who was the caller?” I ask, catching
up with her.
“I’m afraid that information is confidential.”
She firmly presses her lips together to indicate she doesn’t plan to say another word.
Ouray is outside, having a smoke when we round the corner, takes one look at the caseworker, and then shifts his gaze to me.
“Trouble?”
“CPS,” I tell him
“Trouble,” Ouray accurately concludes, opening the door for the woman.
Lisa
I’m in the kitchen fishing Finn’s bottle from the warm water when I notice it’s gotten really quiet in the clubhouse.
Nosh volunteered to watch the baby, who seemed happy enough to blow bubbles and tug on the old man’s beard. I didn’t even think twice leaving the baby in his care. I’ve seen him with Lettie, who absolutely adores her grandpa.
I walk in at the moment a woman—who takes me a second to recognize—plucks the baby from Nosh’s hands, the sudden move making him cry.
“Excuse me,” I call out, marching up to her.
I’m about to grab Finn from her when a firm arm circles my waist and stops me.
“Child Protective Services,” Brick whispers in my ear.
“I don’t care if she’s the First Lady,” I snap, pulling from his hold. In the same move, I divest the woman of the baby and immediately turn my back.
Finn, bless his little heart, immediately stops crying and I tuck him in the crook of my arm, offering him the bottle before turning back. Nosh, the old coot, barks out a phlegmy chuckle.
“Sugar…” Brick tries to soothe me, but I’m paying him no mind; my eyes are shooting fire at the woman.
“Who do you think you are? You can’t just walk in here and grab that baby,” I snipe.
“Actually, I’m here to check on the child’s well-being.”
Her arrogance rubs me exactly the wrong way.
“As you can see he’s perfectly fine unless manhandled by strangers.”
The woman—I can’t for the life of me remember her name, nor do I much care—raises an eyebrow and looks around the clubhouse where every head is turned our way.
“I’m afraid this is an unsuitable environment for the child, surrounded by hoodlums.”
My blood is boiling but before I let loose, I turn around and hand Finn and bottle to Brick, before facing her again, my hands free.
“Unsuitable environment? You mean this family?” I wave my arm to include everyone in the room. “This man?” I step aside and point at Brick. “We just buried his only child this morning; Finn’s mother. While this entire family was by his side doing that, some coward broke into the clubhouse, into our home, and you stand here and dare call this an unsuitable environment? Do you even know what these people stand for?”
“Lisa.” Trunk walks up, the corner of his mouth twitching as he throws an arm around my shoulders. I suspect to keep me from wailing on the sanctimonious bitch, which I’m this close to doing. “I’m Dr. Rae,” he says sticking out his free hand. “I’m the club’s child psychologist.”
“Jane Lunsden,” she mumbles, taken aback as I’m sure was Trunk’s intent.
“Ms. Lunsden. I’m not sure what brought you out here, today of all days, but I’m sure you’ll agree with me—given the circumstances—perhaps another day would be more appropriate for a visit.”
I love it when a brother flaunts his smarts instead of his temper. I’m instantly flooded with shame, because not only did I lose mine, but also my behavior wasn’t exactly smart either. I’m supposed to be helping Brick’s case, not hindering it.
“But…we received a complaint, we’re mandated to investigate,” she sputters.
“I understand,” Trunk placates, “however, as you can see Finn is well taken care of, has loving grandparents and a clubhouse full of adults looking out for him. In addition, there is plenty of law enforcement here willing to vouch for it.”
Her gaze darts around the room before landing on Brick, feeding the baby. I know exactly what she’s looking at, the large, gruff-looking man, holding that tiny person like he has the world in his arms.
“Very well, but I’ll be by next week to check in on him,” she says, her eyes challenging me.
I swallow a few choice words, thinking it might not be a good idea to tell her what I think when she’s about to march out of here. The moment Trunk closes the door behind her, though; I swing around on Brick.
“Tomorrow you find a lawyer and put an end to this nonsense.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He sounds serious enough but I notice his mouth is twitching. I’m not about to wait for that smile to break through or I may be forced to hurt him. I’m still so angry she dared show up today, of all days.
I turn back to the kitchen, determined to give my itching hands something useful to do, when Nosh grabs my arm as I walk by the table.
“Momma’d be proud of you,” he croaks in his rarely used, monotone voice.
I manage a smile for him before I dart into my sanctuary to hide the sudden wave of a different emotion. It’s been some day.
Any residual anger I’m taking out on the poor vegetables. The way I’m chopping, it’s a miracle I haven’t hacked off a finger with my chef’s knife.
I can sense him before I hear his boots on the tile floor. Arms slip around me from behind as Brick rests his chin on my shoulder.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Where’s the baby?”
“Back with Nosh.”
“Good.”
I close my eyes and lean back into him for a moment, enjoying the feel of his body surrounding me. Maybe soon.
“Thank you, Sugar,” he rumbles in my ear. “Beautiful thing to see your momma bear coming out. Got a clubhouse full of men ready to lay down for you, but you took care of things. Fierce.”
“Technically, Trunk took care of things,” I point out, but my heart warms at his words.
“Only ‘cause he was trying to prevent bloodshed.”
CHAPTER 11
Brick
“CAN I WEAR my new snowsuit?”
Kiara is hopping from foot to foot in front of the TV.
Never thought I’d find myself hitting up a mall with a woman, two kids, and a baby, but that’s exactly what we did this morning.
“When we leave in ten minutes, yes,” I tell her.
This past week it’s been snowing on and off, and all the kids were in dire need of winter clothes. Finn also needed more things. We got him a proper crib, a high chair—even though Lisa says he’s too small yet—a bouncy seat, and a stroller.
Fuck, I didn’t know babies were this damn expensive, or maybe I’d just conveniently forgotten. I dropped almost two grand this morning. Lisa didn’t even argue when I put the older kids’ new snow gear on my tab as well. She was too stunned.
Hope she stays like that a little longer, because I found a nice 2017 Ford Explorer for her that will comfortably transport all three kids with the third row of seats in the back. It’ll be safe in the snow, and has only thirty-eight thousand miles on it. It’ll set me back some, and I’m sure she’ll balk at the price, but I’ve barely had any expenses since selling my shop in Grand Junction and moving here.
I’d like for her to take it for a test drive this afternoon after we drop the kids off at Lissie and Yuma’s place up the road.
After finding the clubhouse and cottage broken into last weekend, we had Ezrah and Kiara stay with Lissie overnight, so they didn’t have to come home to the mess those fuckers left behind. Lisa and I cleaned that night until we rolled into bed, exhausted, and did the rest in the morning before those two came home.
The sleepover apparently had been a success. Lissie called and invited them back for a winter cookout in their backyard tonight, complete with roasting marshmallows. Since it’s been snowing on and off pretty much all week, Yuma is apparently taking them sledding tomorrow. I’d pay to see his ass on a sled coming down the mountain.
Tired of the news loop, I flick off the TV and t
ake my coffee cup to the kitchen. Lisa is upstairs giving Finn a bath since he had an explosive diaper on our way home from the mall. Ezrah is hanging out up there as well, and Kiara is as restless as a squirrel, insisting on packing her own overnight bag on the coffee table. She has all her newly purchased clothes laid out and can’t seem to make a decision on which ones to pack.
I do a quick rinse of the lunch dishes and load the dishwasher so it can run while we’re out, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Sophia’s name comes up on the screen.
“Hey.”
“Hi, Brick, how are things?”
I had her drop ‘Mr. Paver’ quickly, the moniker making me feel ancient.
“Going,” I answer. “Meant to call to make sure you got home all right, but things were a little crazy here.”
She chuckles. “Tell me about it. I came home to find my place was broken into. Can you believe that?”
Immediately my hair stands on end. I can still hear Luna saying she doesn’t believe in coincidence. Well, neither do I.
“Gone for twenty-four hours and boom. I live in a townhouse for Pete’s sake, not in the worst part of town either. Go figure.”
“Anything taken?”
“That’s the kicker,” she says. “My five-year-old laptop and an external drive. That’s it. Left a virtually new flat-screen TV, a few bits of jewelry on my nightstand, an expensive vase my mother gave me, all easily worth much more than that old laptop.”
“You need to report that,” I urge her.
“Oh, I did. Denver PD showed, took a report and I haven’t heard a thing since.”
“Sophia, do you remember Luna? Ouray’s wife? I’m gonna have her call you right away.”
“Why? Is something going on?”
“Yeah. Last Saturday, while we were all at Kelsey’s funeral, the clubhouse as well as Lisa’s place was broken into too.”
For a moment it’s dead silent on the other side. Then she says softly, “This is about Kelsey, isn’t it?”
“Sure looks like it.” For some reason I suddenly feel uncomfortable talking on the phone. “Sophia?”
