by Karen Renee
My eyebrows furrowed because I had no idea who he could possibly be talking about, since I didn’t think of myself as having a boyfriend.
I reflexively asked, “What? My boyfriend?”
DeMarco looked at me as if I were a bad actress. “Yes, your boyfriend, Mr. Sullivan, or perhaps you know him only as Vamp.”
“Ok, we’re done here. You’re not charging her with anything, which means she doesn’t have to answer your questions.”
DeMarco looked annoyed, but calmly said to my lawyer, “Ms. Adams, we’d appreciate her cooperation. A woman is fighting for her life, which makes this matter quite serious.”
Martina Adams gave DeMarco an assessing stare, then her chocolate-brown eyes settled on me. She gave her head a short shake, but said, “Tell him who you were with Wednesday night.”
“Henry Adler followed me from my office, to the store, and to my house. He hung out while I ate.”
“That’s enough,” Ms. Adams said to me.
“Henry Adler?” DeMarco asked.
With a slight head tilt, Ms. Adams said, “Henry Adler, who is also known as Volt. Do you have anything further to ask of Ms. Ingram?”
DeMarco gave us both a harsh look, “No, I think that will do for now. But Ms. Ingram, don’t leave town.”
Martina Adams and I walked out of the front doors of the police station, and to my surprise I saw Henry and Jackie striding up the sidewalk toward the building. Strangely, Henry was not wearing his cut, but Jackie was wearing hers over her stretchy white t-shirt.
“Well, speak of the devil. Ms. Ingram, here is my card. If the police contact you again, you do ‒not‒ speak to them. At all. You call me. Do you understand?” Ms. Adams asked me.
I took the card, and said, “Certainly, Ms. Adams.”
“Call me ‘Martina’, please. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to speak with Mr. Adler about what’s going on. Normally there would be lawyer-client confidentiality, but I was sent here under our retainer contract with Mr. Adler’s organization, so he’s entitled to some of the basic information.”
I nodded, because I really didn’t care if she shared with Henry. I would have been sharing with him anyway, and I figured Martina was in a far better position to tell him what was going down.
We had reached the bottom of the steep stairs leading up to the headquarters building, and Henry whispered in Jackie’s ear, stepped away from her, and jerked his head at Martina to follow him away from us. I watched as Martina spoke quickly; Henry was nodding and then his lips thinned in what might have been anger. He said something to her, then she turned on her heel and went back up the steps to the police station. Henry came straight to me and gave me a firm, tight hug.
Releasing me, he said to Jackie, “I’ll try to keep this short babe, but I want to make sure things are cool for Vamp.”
Jackie smiled up at him, “I know, honey. Do your thing. Frankie and I will be fine.”
Volt hurried up the steps and Jackie grabbed my left hand. “I didn’t notice your Pandora bracelet when you were at our house. I love your charms. Is that a snake with green eyes?”
I chuckled thinking of why I bought that particular charm. I said, “Sure is a snake. I bought it when I moved into my own house because the first time I was in my yard, I had to single-handedly slay a poisonous snake using a shovel, but, you know, Pandora doesn’t have a shovel charm. My poinsettia charm is because my birthday is around Thanksgiving and those plants seemed to always be around, so I’ve always loved them. My ‘F’ charm is self-explanatory. ‘Believe’ is a new addition, and well, it’s taking on a different meaning than when I first bought it, that day when I ran into Cary again.”
“I love it! So, um, are you ok? I mean, getting questioned and everything?”
I shrugged. “As ok as I can be, I suppose. I can’t even imagine who would beat Emily so badly.”
Jackie looked at me like I had a screw loose. “Gee, I don’t know…maybe the asshole who thought it was ok to break your hand and darken your eye? Though I have to say, it seems to be healing up pretty well.”
Well, that was music to my ears about my eye healing up, but I couldn’t believe I didn’t immediately think of Mark Stillman as being likely to beat Emily. Shaking my head, I said to Jackie, “Thanks about the eye, it’s hard to think it’s healing up well at all, so that’s good for me to hear. It’s been such a good week, and to come home to such craziness, I guess that’s why I didn’t immediately think of telling the cops to go talk to Stillman. Jesus.”
Jackie put her hand on my bicep. “Hon, it’s ok. Well, it’s not ok, I mean, it’s all right that you didn’t immediately think of that rat-bastard from hell. I am glad to hear that you had a good week. If anyone deserves one, it’s you.”
I was feeling a little strange standing on the sidewalk outside the police station, and I could feel sweat beginning to bead on my neck from the ninety-degree heat. Before I could ask Jackie if she wanted to find someplace to go for a drink, Martina Adams came scurrying down the stairs.
“FYI, ladies, Volt should be back any moment, but unfortunately the questioning of Mr. Sullivan is not going so smoothly. I’ve got to get back to the office to get some info that will help Mr. Bernstein with wrapping up the questioning. Have a nice afternoon.”
I felt like a rock had settled into my stomach at her words about Vamp’s questioning not going smoothly. How could his questioning be any different from mine, I wondered. He was with me Wednesday night, except he got there late. Oh no. It occurred to me that Vamp being in Daytona until late evening was not exactly the best alibi, since he traveled back alone.
Before I could fret any further about this, Henry came up and gave my shoulders a quick squeeze. “Gotta get back to the compound. I’m sure you’d rather get back to your place, but I don’t buy what the cops said in there about Stillman not beating this chick to a pulp. So, we’ll take you to the compound, and later Jackie and I can go to your place to get you some clothes or whatever you might need.”
CHAPTER 18
I was in the back of Jackie’s Jeep Liberty and Henry had just pulled into the compound parking lot. We went inside the clubhouse, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that the Riot MC was so much better than a normal family. What made it better was the throng of people milling about the common area, and the vibe was not one of Friday afternoon partying and camaraderie, but one of solidarity. One of theirs was being questioned, and it seemed that the entire club was rallied together, even if they couldn’t do anything other than just be together.
I was three steps into the common room with Henry and Jackie at my back when I heard the distinct voice of Trixie from across the room.
“Rainey! I heard you were back in the fold. Get your skinny ass over here and tell me how the hell you been.”
I swiveled my head in her direction, and not a damn thing had changed about Trixie. Six years ago she was the biker bitch of biker bitches, from the way she dressed to the way she held herself within the club. An electric-blue tank top was struggling to restrain her ample cleavage, and the black print, which read “Forget the bike, Ride a Biker,” was stretched to the point I could see the ribs between the threads of the shirt. Trixie deftly toed a line between old lady material for the right brother and sweet-butt, but she really was not a sweet-butt. She didn’t allow herself to be passed around willy-nilly. She typically stuck by Roll’s side, but he had not made her his old lady. It wasn’t my business, so I never asked why he hadn’t, but she was clearly still part of the Riot MC mix and that made me happy.
She hopped off her barstool as I made my way to her, and I saw her cut-offs were the epitome of short-shorts. I expected us to exchange a brief hug, but she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tight for a long time. I was feeling a headache coming on from her intense cinnamon-scented perfume, but once she let me go, it went away.
I gave her a weak smile and said, “I’m doing all right these days. How about you?”
Trixie�
�s light-brown eyes scowled at me. “That don’t sound like the Rainey, I used to know. Did you go and get a stick up your ass, like Mallory?”
I hadn’t realized Mallory was even here until I heard her pipe up with, “I don’t have a stick up my ass!”
That was when I saw her sitting on a barstool four seats over. I hadn’t noticed her because Cal was standing at her back when we walked in, and now he was beside her. She gave me a little wave, and I gave her a nod in return.
Trixie would not let the subject go. “Well, it’s not as bad as when you first came round. All fully-clothed and shit.”
Mallory looked mildly offended. “It was February! I get cold easily. I wouldn’t even run around in my bra and underwear in my own house, let alone a bra that shows nipple rings.”
This made me grin. “You got your nipples pierced after all,” I commented to Trixie.
Trixie’s gaze came back to me. “Sure as hell did…Mallory, I think you ought to get pierced, especially since so many people think your ta-tas are grade-A.”
“I do not think so,” was Mallory’s dour response and Cal bit out, “Dammit!” at the same time as Mallory spoke.
She looked up at him with concern and said, “We were only joking, mister.”
With a wan smile Cal said, “No, I know you won’t pierce your tits. It’s just that if Vamp were here, I know he’d say he’d help you with that.”
Even though I knew Mallory would never let Vamp near her bare breasts, the comment still stirred an insecure and jealous twinge within me. I leveled a stern gaze at Cal.
Catching my look, he amended, “Well, before he found Frankie again, he would have. Fuck, I hate he’s not here because he’s being falsely accused of shit.”
Well, that brought everyone’s mood back to somber, so much so that the room went silent. Then I heard Henry talking on his cell phone on the far end of the bar area, asking to speak with someone named James.
“Yo, James, you give Vamp the info he asked you for? When?”
There was a lengthy pause and then Henry’s tone shifted to annoyed, “He’s being questioned by JSO, so I need an exact time. Cops don’t let you take calls and check your texts during a questioning. Figure a strait-laced guy like you doesn’t know that. Bernstein and Logan get in touch with you? It’s all priority, man. Get back to me, fast.”
When Henry was done talking, the silence felt like a shroud over the entire room. A man in his twenties was behind the bar. He strolled my way, and I noticed his red hair in a buzz cut was rather attractive, if one were into red-headed men. His eyes were a pale shade of blue, but they made me think of Vamp’s more brilliant blue eyes. The cut covering his wide torso indicated that he was a prospect, and beneath it I caught a hint of a Harley-Davidson logo on his black t-shirt. That also reminded me of Cary before he became Vamp, which made me feel a little nostalgic. The look on my face must have been especially sad, because his tone when he spoke to me was apologetic.
“You look like you need a drink. What can I get for you?”
I had a brief internal debate. There was a slim to non-existent chance there was any wine on the premises, and it was too early for me to down a shot of tequila. I noticed that Cal and Mallory had beer bottles in front of them, but beer just wasn’t going to do it for me. Finally I said, “A rum and diet coke, please.”
I heard a cell phone ring at the end of the bar near Henry and Jackie, then saw the prospect wink at me, “You got it, babe.”
I swallowed a sip of the strong cocktail as I heard Henry say, “You are shittin’ me.”
All eyes shifted to him on the far side of the bar. In a downright lethal tone of voice, Henry said, “You’re serious? Starla and Stillman are half-siblings? You’re certain your information’s accurate?”
I heard Jackie and Mallory gasp, and Cal said, “Fuck! Goddamn fuckers!”
The rest of the room went wired, and while I didn’t know who this Starla person was I knew it was bad. Of course, anything that involved Mark Stillman had to be bad; I was walking proof of that. Henry slid his phone into his back pocket, grabbed the half-filled high-ball glass that was in front of him and hurled it against the wall.
He stalked away from where he had been sitting and snapped out, “Church, brothers. Now.”
All of the patched members went to the large room on the right-hand side of the clubhouse where church was always held. The door closed and the prospect came out from behind the bar with a broom and dustpan to clean up Henry’s mess. I almost felt bad because he was the only one left in the room with us four women.
Mallory moved down to a barstool closer to me and Trixie, and Jackie also moved closer to us. All three of them had very apprehensive looks on their faces. It was clear that they knew who this woman was, and I figured they would fill me in. I waited for one of them to tell me about this Starla person, but they were all perfectly happy to let the silence stretch.
I sighed. “Ok, so, who’s Starla? Other than, apparently, Dickhead Stillman’s half-sister.”
They all exchanged an uneasy look, and I said, “C’mon. I’m not gonna lose my shit like Henry did. Okay? Give it to me straight. The asshole beat me, for fuck’s sake. I think I’m entitled to some information here.”
I noticed Mallory shook her head slightly, and Jackie looked into her beer bottle, but God love her, Trixie lost her patience.
“Neither one of you will tell her, then I will. I ain’t anybody’s old lady and it ain’t like it’s not common knowledge to all us women anyway. Starla Leventon is the daughter of Allen Leventon, a loan shark and other things. Starla started out as a skanky sweet-butt, but got her mind set on Vamp. She’d do anything for him, play anyway he wanted it, whenever he wanted it.”
This was hard to hear, but at the same time it wasn’t exactly news. In fact, parts of it sounded just like things Vamp had said to me, like getting what he wanted, when he wanted it and anyway he wanted it. I couldn’t judge him on what he’d done in the past; I had to focus on what he wanted for our future. Just yesterday he’d told me it was only me. I took a deep breath and waved my hand out in a signal to continue.
Trixie eyed me carefully, and with a chin-lift, continued, “Well, she was the fuckin’ definition of a snake in the grass. None of us knew she was related to Leventon or that she had the slightest hand in his shit. Mallory’s mother-in-law had gotten into some deep debt with Leventon, and when I say deep, I mean six-figures-deep.”
My eyes went wide at the mention of a six-figure debt, and Trixie said, “Yeah. So, Leventon was putting the screws to her. Thought Mallory was her daughter. Found out otherwise, but Starla knew Cal was hot for Mallory. Leathernecks were also involved, tried to take Mal one night. Cal had Vamp bring her back here, and wanted Mal in his room, but your boy Vamp gave Mallory the option to hang here in the common room. She took that option, and Starla approached, wanting to play with Vamp and Mallory.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head, and then I heard Mallory say, “Trixie, she doesn’t need to hear that part of it.”
I didn’t have to open my eyes to know that Trixie was giving Mallory a disdainful look when she said, “You had your chance to give Rainey the goods, and you blew it. I ain’t leavin’ anything out. It were me, I’d want all the info I could get, cause God knows none of those brothers are gonna tell her. They’re gonna have Vamp’s back. I got Vamp’s back in my own way, but first and foremost, I gotta help a sister out. I’m gonna do that. Now, look at me, Rainey.”
I looked back to Trixie’s caramel-colored eyes. “Vamp told Starla wasn’t no way they were playing with Mallory. Plus, this was back when Mallory still had a stick up her ass, but –”
“I did not!” Mallory hissed.
With a flounce of her hand, Trixie said, “Whatever. Bike Week rolls around. Cal’s takin’ Mallory and her BFF Natasha. Starla talks Vamp into taking her to Bike Week, but he doesn’t want her on the back of his bike, and Cal needs someone to haul his bike in a trailer. Vamp has a truck,
and he offers to take Cal and the two women. Starla was supposed to ride with me and Melissa to Daytona, but she bailed out on us at the last minute. Vamp was apparently already on high-alert where Starla was concerned, but he thought the danger from her was to himself. He talked Cal into having Starla bunk with Natasha on the big-ass bus Blood’s father-in-law has.”
I could just imagine the big-ass bus Blood’s father-in-law had. Blood’s wife, Abby, was the daughter of a radiologist. His firm was one of only three in town, so if you had an MRI, CAT scan or any other kind of imaging done, odds were it came from his firm. He had money practically coming out of his ears, and word was he was a die-hard Florida State fan and tailgated with a passionate flair. I had no doubt the bus was as tricked out as a bus could possibly be.
“I said Starla was a snake in the grass, right? So, she gets to sit in the back of the truck with Mal and her girl, and they shoot the shit and Starla makes them think she’s nice. She gets Mallory’s trust, but in the meantime Starla’s put a bug in Melissa’s ear. Don’t know if you remember Melissa, but she had it bad for Cal. Thought she was the fuckin’ shit, and couldn’t believe Cal didn’t feel the same. Starla worked that to her advantage. She wanted to get Mallory alone, and knew Mallory and her friend would dance at the drop of a hat. Starla told Melissa to make a move on Cal the first chance she got, and to make sure Mallory saw it. Then Melissa could try to make things right with Cal, Mallory would be out of the way, and she’d be out of the way for a while because Starla cold-cocked Mallory in the bathroom. Then Starla’s father showed up, they toted Mallory out of the back of the Cabbage Patch and took her to St. Augustine.”
“No shit?” I whispered.
“No shit,” Mallory said dryly.
Jackie decided to intervene at this point, “So you can see, she’s a fucking bitch of the highest order. Neither she nor Melissa is welcome at any Riot MC chapter, and Melissa is either completely out of the life or she’s had to move to the west coast to find herself a biker. The guys rounded up Starla but couldn’t get her father.”
