Rain Shadow Book 4 (The Barringer Brothers)

by Tess Oliver

  Ritter raised his hand with a flourish at the paper. “It’s here on our list of rules for people coming off suspension.”

  I glanced at the paper. It had been written hastily in permanent black marker. “Oh, I see, yes. Donuts is the first rule. Maybe tomorrow, but as for the rest of the rules— I don’t wipe asses, babysit kids or give massages.”

  Ritter’s brow furrowed on the last one. He looked over at the paper.

  Greene nodded to assure him it was there. “When they heard it was Barringer, the women added that one to the list.”

  Carson poked his head out of his office. “Don’t you clowns have work to do? Barringer, get in here,” he barked.

  “Nice to see you too, Sir. I’ll be right in.” I stood. “I might consider the massages if it’s the women, but I’m not touching your hairy back, Ritter.” I sidled past him.

  “Fine. We’ll come up with some suitable substitutions,” he called as I stepped into Carson’s office.

  “Shut the damn door.” His chair creaked as he plunked down on it and he motioned for me to sit too.

  He looked even more disheveled than usual, and instead of a crooked tie, he hadn’t bothered to put one on at all. His eyes were red from lack of sleep.

  “The couch, huh?” I asked.

  He grumbled something under his breath and then looked at me. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Then he scooted forward so quickly on his rolling chair that it smacked the desk. “I’m spending too much time at the job. Can you fucking believe it? She wants me to take more time off.”

  “Maybe you should. You do put in more than your share of hours around here.”

  “Because otherwise, this place would fall apart.” He moved the stapler off some papers and slammed it down hard enough produce a staple. “Never mind about that. We’ve got some information on a big shipment of cocaine.”

  “All right.”

  He peered up at me with slightly bloodshot eyes. “Bedlam is behind it.”

  He had my full attention now. “How did you find this out?”

  He slumped back. Sleeping on the couch had made him extra grumpy. “I’ve got people all over the fucking place, Barringer. You don’t need to question my methods.”

  I put up a hand. “Whoa there. Easy Carson. It’s just that Dreygon isn’t usually too loose with this kind of information.”

  “So, you’re a damn expert on Sharpe now?”

  I looked at him. “Yes, I am.”

  His jaw twitched at my quick, but cocky, response and then he seemed to conclude that I was right. “From the information we’ve received, in five days, a large brown box truck will be heading along the U.S. 50 toward Sharpe’s compound, and it will be loaded down with cocaine.”

  “What’s the plan? Roadblock?”

  “There’s no time for anything more elaborate.” The phone on his desk rang. His assistant picked it up. “We’ll have enough vehicles and men out there—”

  “Detective Carson,” his assistant’s voice came through the intercom, “the county morgue is on line one.”

  “Fucking hell,” he mumbled. It was rare to see him thrown this far off his game. “I’m dealing with dead people more than live ones lately.” He snatched up the phone. “This is Carson.” The voice on the other side was a just a low, indecipherable mumble, but seconds into the call, Carson peered up at me as if the conversation would interest me. My intuition proved right. “As a matter of fact, I have Special Agent Barringer sitting right here in my office.” He covered the mouth piece. “There are two unidentified bodies in the morgue. One probable broken neck, the other most likely head trauma. Both victims are wearing Bedlam cuts.”

  I slumped back. My stomach clenched in a knot. If one of them was Cash, it would be the last straw for Angel.

  Carson looked at me again. “Do you know someone who can go down there and identify them?”

  “Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve got to go home and pick them up. We’ll be over there in an hour.”

  ***

  “It’s not Cash,” Angel said for the third time. She twisted one of her thin braids around her finger and then untwisted it. “I just know it’s not him.”

  “The club has a pretty big membership, doesn’t it?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” Angel said more to convince herself than me. It was tearing me up inside knowing how scary this was for her. If the worst happened and we found Cash lying on one of the steel tables with a paper tag on his toe then Angel would not forgive herself. And I’d have an even harder time convincing her that she shouldn’t take the blame.

  I glanced up in the rearview mirror. Jericho sat as still as a stone statue in the backseat. He hadn’t said a word since I’d broken the news to them. He stared out the window and made it clear that he didn’t want to talk.

  We pulled into the lot, and it occurred to me that we could easily meet up with Dreygon. I parked the car and looked over at Angel. Her face was pale and she bit her lip in worry. She’d had to have a ridiculous amount of courage her whole life, and it was part of what made her so amazing. I took her hand and kissed the knuckles. “If you want, Jericho and I can go—”

  She shook her head. “No, I can handle this.” She pulled in a deep breath and released it. “Let’s go get this over with.”

  The same woman from my last visit, Dr. Vogel, walked out of the backroom in her light blue scrubs. There were some stains on the front of her shirt that were better left to the imagination. “Special Agent Barringer, right?”

  “Yes. Hello, Dr. Vogel. These are two people who are familiar with the members of the motorcycle club. Detective Carson mentioned the victims were with the Bedlam MC.”

  “They were wearing the patch on their jackets, so we can only assume. There was no other identification. To be honest, I was putting off contacting Mr. Sharpe. This sounds very unprofessional, and given where we’re standing and all, well frankly, the man was rather creepy.”

  “Actually, it’s not unprofessional at all,” I said. “You are right on target with that description.”

  Dr. Vogel smiled weakly at Angel and then seemed to be searching for the correct words. “The victims received a great deal of trauma. I’m not sure if—”

  “Are they this way?” Angel headed toward the hallway without an answer.

  We followed her into the room where the bodies were brought for examination. A sickening, hard to describe odor struck us as we stepped inside, and I had to conscientiously work to keep my breakfast down. Jericho hesitated near the entrance and it seemed evident that he was losing his breakfast battle. Drills and implements that looked more suited to a torture dungeon were scattered on a cart. Overhead fluorescent lights beamed on the stainless steel tables and counters, adding to the macabre atmosphere.

  Angel walked up to the first table. The corpse was enclosed in a body bag. Another filled bag lay on the adjacent table. Jericho’s face switched between powdery white and khaki green as he came closer. Angel stared down at the covered body, looking pale but astoundingly brave. The woman unzipped the bag and drew it back away from the face and shoulders. Jericho stumbled over to the trash can near the door and puked.

  Angel closed her eyes with relief, and a small puff of air blew from her lips. The first body wasn’t Cash. It was a face I’d never seen before. The man had a straggly blond beard and a ring through his nose. The side of his skull was dented in.

  Angel looked across the room at Jericho, who clutched the doorway to keep from falling on his face. He sucked in deep breaths of air. “Kingley Orson?” Angel asked, and he nodded.

  Dr. Vogel picked up her chart, and Angel spelled the name for her.

  “He was definitely one of Dreygon’s cronies. He used to do a lot of his dirty work.” Angel was handlin
g this with the confidence of a pro, and I was starting to feel extra stupid for trying to wrap her in cotton and keep her from the ugly stuff. During my time at the compound, she’d proven how strong she was. I didn’t know when or how I’d convinced myself she wasn’t. It seemed to just come from my innate need to protect her.

  We walked to the next table. “It’s not Cash,” she said to me before the doctor had opened it. This time it wasn’t to assure herself. It was pure deduction. “Cash is well over six feet tall.” She was right. The second victim was far shorter.

  Jericho looked as if he’d just had his insides twisted inside out, which he sort of had. Listening to him retch up his guts hadn’t helped my stomach either. The doctor unzipped the next bag. Jericho wandered over, looking as pale as the cadaver on the table. The victim was a man well past his forties with peppered gray hair and a deep scar in his chin. It took me a second to decide that my eyes weren’t playing a trick on me. Something seemed completely off about the man on the table.

  “I guess the cause of death was a broken neck,” Angel said.

  Doctor Vogel looked impressed. “You know your anatomy.”

  Angel held back a grin. She peered up at Jericho and, apparently for the first time, noticed what a terrible turn he had taken. “Oh my gosh, you look worse than him, Richo. We need to get you out of here. I can’t remember his name, but I know I’ve seen him before.”

  “Walt Jansen,” Jericho said weakly and then limped out of the room.

  The doctor zipped up the bag and wrote down the name. “Do you know any of the next of kin?”

  Angel shook her head. “They were in the club. They hung around with my grandfather, but that’s all I know.”

  “And your grandfather’s name?”

  “Dreygon Sharpe.”

  The doctor looked slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

  “No,” Angel said, “it’s fine. I find him creepy too.”

  Doctor Vogel held back a grin and motioned for us to walk out. My phone rang as we stepped into the front room. Jericho was sitting outside on the edge of the dock where the coroner’s van usually parked. His head was hanging low as he seemed to be trying to regain his bearings.

  I pulled my phone out. It was Carson.

  Angel shook her head. “I feel guilty because I’m so relieved it wasn’t Cash,” she said just as I answered. I took hold of her hand to assure her there was no harm in being relieved. The emotion in her teal eyes made me temporarily forget that I’d just answered the phone.

  “Barringer?”

  “Yeah, sorry, Carson. We’re still at the morgue.” Angel walked outside to check on Jericho.

  “I thought I heard someone mention Cash.”

  “Yeah, that was Angel. She was talking about a person, not money.”

  “I know, but how did you guys know already? I only just got word.”

  I scrubbed my hair back not completely sure where this conversation was headed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Cash Tremaine, the guy the Reno police just brought in for questioning. There’s a good chain of evidence linking this guy, Cash, to the murders of those two men on the tables. He’s also part of the Bedlam MC.”

  “I know. I mean, no, he’s not anymore. Cash is the one Scoffield put under witness protection. You need to call him right away. This was clearly self-defense.”

  Carson absorbed that for a second. “He took out two men in self-defense?”

  “Yeah, you’d have to know the guy to believe it. He’s the man who let me go instead of shooting me like Sharpe had ordered.”

  “I’ll call Scoffield right now.”

  “Oh, and Carson—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll see what I can do to get you in to talk to him.”

  “Thanks. I owe you again. If you need a different couch to sleep on, mine is pretty comfy.”

  “Don’t push your luck, Barringer.”

  I walked outside. Even though he’d been arrested for murder, I knew Jericho and Angel would be glad to know that Cash was safe. Angel stood up and she lowered her hand for Jericho to take. The color had returned to his face.

  “Look who is back from the dead,” I said. “And we didn’t even need to stand on the deck of a boat.”

  “Shut up.” Jericho turned to head to the car.

  “Thought you might want to know that they just arrested the man who they think killed those two inside.”

  Angel turned to me. “It couldn’t have been Dreygon. Those two were loyal to him.”

  “Yes, they were. No doubt, it was Dreygon who sent them to kill Cash.”

  Jericho’s eyes rounded. “Cash did that?”

  “That’s who they’ve brought in for questioning.”

  Jericho nodded as if all the puzzle pieces were falling neatly into place. “That would explain why they looked so very dead.”

  Angel laughed. “I think there’s only one degree of dead, Richo.”

  The Camaro beeped as I unlocked it.

  Jericho looked over the top of the car at her. “Nope, there’s just plain dead. You know, a heart attack or something. And there’s very dead like what Cash did to those two guys—”

  “Allegedly,” I added.

  “Right, but it does look like Cash’s work.”

  We slid into the car. Angel looked back over the seat at him. “Is that it?”

  “No, there’s also extremely dead, which involves lots of missing flesh and limbs. But, I think after the morning I just had, I don’t want to get into any details. Especially not in Reno’s fancy Chevy.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “Are you all up for a visit to the police station?”

  That question wiped some of the color from Jericho’s face again. “Why would we be up for that?”

  “Relax. I just thought we’d try to get in to talk to Cash. I’ve got a badge, remember?”

  “How can we forget?” Jericho said.

  “Let’s go,” Angel said. “I would love to see him.”

  I pulled out of the lot.

  “Shit, my stomach is empty,” Jericho complained.

  I glanced back at him. “We know, unfortunately.”

  Jericho slumped back in the seat. “I guess that means I can eat breakfast again. This time I have a hankering for a breakfast burrito.”

  Chapter 17

  Angel

  It had been nearly a week since they’d arrested Cash. Only Luke had been allowed in to talk to him and that had been more because of the witness protection thing than anything else. The evidence and the fact that he’d been under protection made it clear enough that Cash had been acting in self-defense. While he was not free, the judge had released him on bail. Because of the possible dangers, Luke had made Jericho and me stay home while he’d gone to pick him up. They’d released him under high security, but I knew there was no reason for it. Dreygon would never be careless enough to threaten someone directly in front of a jailhouse.

  We’d had no problems at the house since our return, but the threat always hung heavy in the air as we knew it wasn’t if but when. Dreygon was obviously not through with any of this, but the way his last act of murder had unfolded and failed, had probably thrown him off his game some.

  Luke’s car pulled into the driveway. Even though one of Luke’s strict rules was for us not to stand by a window, we walked to the front one to watch them come out of the car. Several unmarked, but obvious, vehicles had followed them home. Cash had declined any more witness protection. It was probably not the smartest decision, but I wasn’t surprised. Cash was someone who preferred to make his own decisions. He hated to rely on anyone else. He’d had a hard life as a kid, and it’d made him tough, independent and not a huge fan of people, in general. And now he’d proven that he wa
s more than capable of taking care of himself.

  The front door opened and Cash and Luke walked in. His black hair was even longer than Jericho’s. His face was thinner and covered in black stubble. While his shoulders and arms were still cut with muscles, he looked underweight.

  Jericho walked up to him and gave him a quick bro hug. It was something I’d never seen before. Hugs between men at the compound just didn’t happen. I, on the other hand, had never had a problem with them.

  Cash smiled weakly at me. “Hey, little Angel.” I crossed the floor in three long strides. He wrapped his arms around me. I could easily count the number of times Cash and I had hugged on one hand, but now it felt completely natural. He was the reason I still had Luke in my life, and I would never forget that. He kissed the top of my head and lowered his arms.

  “I’ll make some sandwiches,” I said. “You feel really skinny.” I pointed at him. “Mustard but no mayo, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Go ahead and sit,” Luke said. “You’ll be sleeping in my brother’s room, so I’ll put your duffle bag in there.”

  “Thanks. It’ll just be a day or two until I figure out where to go.”

  Luke returned from the bedroom and sat with Jericho and Cash.

  I peered over the kitchen counter as I made the sandwiches. “Why don’t you just stay here with us for now?” I had the important members of my core family with me, and I didn’t want to lose that.

  “It’s too dangerous,” Cash said. “Now I’m really on the shit list. Dreygon isn’t the type to forgive and forget.”

  “Cash is right,” Luke said. “We can find him a place. And, I was thinking it might not be a bad idea for Jericho and Angel to stay with you during the day while I’m at work. They both have phones now, and if we found a place near my work, I could be there fast.”

  “What?” Jericho asked. “I don’t need a damn babysitter.”

  “Safety in numbers, Richo,” Luke said. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  I carried the sandwiches out and sat next to Luke on the arm of the big chair.