Angel Ink

by Siobhan Muir

  I returned to the compound in record time but it might have been because my Grace tended to bend time a bit when I worried. Haley was my bonded mate, though she might not know it yet, so whatever affected her affected me. I needed to know what in glory’s name I was going to face when the shit hit the fan.

  By the time I parked my bike in the Barn, I had several messages on my phone from both Neo and Luke. I ignored all of them and headed straight for Neo’s Black Room, the hub of our communication and observation network. I didn’t often use my angelic powers on my fellow club members, but I didn’t have time for casual chitchat.

  I made it to the Black Room and knocked. The camera positioned outside the door focused on my face before the door unlatched, and I pushed inside.

  “I got your message but didn’t have time to read it. What have you got, Neo?”

  Neo didn’t bother with pleasantries either. “Assistant District Attorney Patrick O’Donnell is dead. His body was found in the Turner Williams Building in downtown Denver last Friday night by police after an anonymous caller gave them a tip. Police also managed to break up a drunken orgy of some of the city’s biggest media movers and shakers.”

  “Media. As in newspaper, TV, and internet?”

  Neo nodded. “Yeah. Apparently, the ADA had been at the party to get some backing for his new honesty and integrity push in local law enforcement, but most people interviewed couldn’t remember seeing him after he arrived.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You said he was killed in Friday night?”

  “Yeah, Valentine’s Day. Why?”

  That’s when I’d picked up Haley in front of the Turner Williams building. Had she been at the party? She’d been dressed to the nines and hurrying out alone. Had she seen the ADA get killed? Was she the anonymous caller who’d tipped off the police? And if she was, why wouldn’t she want to be acknowledged for that? She’d told me she wanted to be more than just a fluff reporter. This would’ve been her moment to shine.

  Unless something else made her choose to hide her identity.

  I thought back to what we’d learned from US Marshal Cooper DeVille before he was “killed” by his own. He’d been investigating a shadow group in law enforcement called Backlog and they’d come for him with a vengeance. Which technically is Karma’s bailiwick. He’d said that Backlog had infiltrated all levels of law enforcement and possibly into members of the local government. He hadn’t known how high it reached, but I suspected it went to the highest levels.

  “The woman who was here. I picked her up in front of the Turner Williams building that night. She looked spooked so I brought her here to keep her safe.”

  Neo snorted. “Safe. Riiiiggghht. Did you keep her safe from the monster under your bed, too?”

  “Kiss my arse, you tosser. I slept on one of my chairs while she took the bed.” At least the first night. “But we went to a café and she was nervous when the coppers came in. What if she witnessed the murder?”

  Neo frowned. “If she did, wouldn’t she have been screaming it to the rooftops? I mean, she’d have to be press to be at the party. I’m pretty sure that would be a career-making story. Why would she tip off the cops anonymously?”

  “I don’t know. Her phone was dead so she couldn’t get the word out or pics of it, but maybe there’s another reason.” I studied the information Neo had displayed on the monitors. “Do you think she was worried about something else, something bigger?”

  “Bigger? Like what?”

  “Like Backlog. If she announced anonymously, could it be because she didn’t know which cops to trust? According to Eric, Backlog goes high up in the law enforcement.”

  Neo rubbed his chin as he sat back in his chair. “That could be. From what I found on O’Donnell, he was doing this ‘integrity and honesty’ thing in an effort to clean up corruption not only in the judicial branches but in law enforcement. That would definitely crimp Backlog’s style.”

  “And mark him for death.” I nodded as my phone buzzed. I figured it was another message from Luke and ignored it. “No way to prove it was them, of course, but if they figure out who was the anonymous caller, my woman could be in danger.”

  “Your woman?” Neo tilted his head up and raised his eyebrows.

  Fortunately, my phone rang at that moment and I excused myself to go back to the main room of the clubhouse.

  “This is Michael.”

  “Michael, it’s Haley. Have you, uh, got a minute?”

  I chuckled, but the fear in her voice made it strained. “For you, I have all the time in the world.”

  “Thanks. I kinda need your help. I got to work today and there were people there looking for me. I got the hell out before they saw me, but my friend suggested I not go home.”

  “Are you all right? Where are you now?” I’d already headed back out the doors to the Barn.

  “I’m in the Mountain Shadow Mall on 28th street.”

  “Hang tight. I can be there in ten minutes. I’ll meet you outside the burger place on the corner. You know the one I mean?” I ignored anyone trying to catch my gaze and settled on my bike’s seat, turning the key.

  “Yeah, I know it. The one with the name of a Beatles song. I’ll be there.”

  “Right. I’m on my way. See you soon.” I’d better see her soon. I wasn’t taking any chances.

  ****

  Haley

  Shit, I so don’t blend. This undercover stuff was way harder than I’d thought it would be. How did I walk around like I wasn’t up to something when I was totally up to something?

  I paused in a Hallmark shop, studying the boxes of stationary mixed with yard schlock and windchimes at the front of the store. I drew out my phone to check the time and almost slapped my forehead with it. Phones had GPS chips in them. It might take a bit to get a warrant to track them, but they could. I sighed and turned the phone off. If I was going to do this for long, I’d need a new phone.

  After pretending to debate between the cutsie panda stationary and the knock-off of Thomas Kinkade—Austen Powyrs, I presume—I resumed my trek to the burger place. I hoped Michael would be there. Standing on the corner out where anyone could see me made me nervous.

  Hell, who am I kidding? I’m already nervous.

  I stopped beside the entrance doors and peered outside, waiting for Michael to arrive. I didn’t have to wait long. I made one last look around to be sure cops weren’t skulking before I stepped out the doors and waved to him. He pulled over to the curb without a smile, his expression full of intense focus.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Good. Let’s go. The cops are looking for me.”

  “Why are the cops looking for you?” He handed me a helmet and I slipped it over my hair.

  “I’ll tell you later. I really just need to get out of sight and I didn’t know who else to call.” I bit my lip. What if he got pissed about it? This whole situation made it look like I was using him. And I was, except I really liked him and felt I could trust him.

  I hoped like hell I could trust him because there weren’t many people left I could.

  “Right then. Hold on.”

  I straddled the bike and settled in behind him, trying to be all relaxed like I wasn’t running from the authorities. Just fake it till you make it. Yeah, sounded easy, but the actual application of it when my heart pounded like a snare drum made it a challenge. I wrapped my arms around his waist and my fear deflated, draining out of me.

  What the hell? Something about Michael’s energy settled my heart and my mind all at once and I let my breath, and tension, out on a long sigh. This wasn’t the first time I’d felt it. I’d gone from being in an action-adventure suspense show to a cute, mellow romantic drama just by wrapping my arms around him.

  To my surprise, he jumped on 287 and headed north to I-25 and into Cheyenne, Wyoming. It had been forever since I’d visited the state’s capital city, and that had been for the rodeo. He parked his bike in front of a little funky coffee shop called T
he Tilted Teacup in downtown. There was one of those shops in Fort Collins, but we’d be less noticeable here. He helped me off the bike and led me inside to defrost with a hot cup of flavored tea. We found a table in the back and settled in with our drinks before he fixed me with his unnervingly direct stare.

  “Now, tell me why the cops are after you.”

  I glanced around for local officers. “It’s a long story.”

  “I have time, and so do you, even if I have to tie you to a bamboo post with a barge hawser.”

  “A what?”

  He sighed. “Just tell me what’s going on, Haley.”

  I wrapped my hands around the paper cup holding my tea, letting the heat seep into my hands as I gathered my thoughts. I didn’t want to tell him but I’d called him for a rescue. Kinda ungrateful to ask him to a knight in shining armor with only half the information.

  I licked my lips and sat up, straightening my shoulders. He probably knew about the murder of the ADA now that the Denver Trib had run the story. But what would I tell him if the murder had something to do with the crooked cops, the dead US Marshal, and the missing FBI agent who’d been embezzling from his club?

  I took a deep breath, scrambling to answer his question before meeting his gaze. “Remember the night you found me coming out of that building in Denver? I was at a Valentine’s Day party up on the ninth floor. My date abandoned me and some creeper was following me around, so I ducked into the emergency exit stairwell for some peace.” I shook my head and ran a hand over my face. “The problem was the door to the party locked and my phone died, so I was stuck out there until someone found me.”

  “And did someone find you?”

  “Not exactly. I headed up to the next floor in hopes the door up there was unlocked when I heard people talking on the other side of the door. I was going to call out to them but then I heard gunshots. I didn’t have a lot of time but I ran down the stairs and hid while they threw the body in the stairwell.” I rubbed my face and glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to us. “I really like this tea. I’m going to remember this place after we head home.”

  Michael tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. It took me a minute to realize I’d used “we” and “home” in the same sentence. Since when does it feel like I share a home with him? I mentally shook my head and sipped more of my tasty tea.

  “So what happened after they left the body?”

  “I waited a little bit for them to go and then followed them out.”

  “Did you report the murder?”

  “My phone was dead, remember?” I shook my head and rubbed my arms, suddenly cold despite the tea. “I went back to the party to find my coat and my ride, but it had become an orgy and I’d already had a rough enough night. So I went down to the lobby and called the cops to come investigate. That’s when I left and found you on the street.”

  He nodded with a frown. “Why didn’t you stay around to talk to the cops?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the VP of the Concrete Angels Motorcycle Club? Would you have stayed around to talk to cops?”

  “This isn’t about me, Haley. Why didn’t you stay?”

  I grimaced when he wouldn’t be diverted. “Because I couldn’t do anything for the dead guy and I didn’t want anyone to know it was me who’d heard the murder. I might be a lowly Fort Collins Bugle reporter, but I’m high profile enough. I didn’t want them to find me and put me down, too.”

  Michael grunted as some folks came in the coffee shop. I scanned them to make sure they weren’t cops as I weighed the information I’d refused to mention while I’d stayed with him. I’d have to tell him something about the story I was working on, but I didn’t want to muck up the relationship we’d built. How the hell am I gonna tell him this?

  When I didn’t continue my story, his eyes narrowed. “That can’t be everything. What aren’t you telling me?”

  Frankly? I wasn’t telling him lots of things. Like just seeing him made my world brighter. And I couldn’t stop thinking about him when we were apart. And that he made me feel safe even though he was a member one of the most notorious biker clubs in Colorado.

  I looked around the room, taking in the few people nearby before taking a fortifying sip of my tea. We’re in Wyoming. They won’t think to look for me in Wyoming, right? I lowered my voice.

  “The dead guy? It was the assistant district attorney of Denver, Patrick O’Donnell.”

  I waited for him to react but he only nodded.

  “Don’t you get it? O’Donnell is high up in the justice department of Denver. And they killed him, which either means he was crooked as a bendy straw or he found out something that made them silence him. Either way, I’m not a difficult target to remove.”

  “Was that why the cops in the coffee shop made you run?”

  I grimaced, trying to explain my gut feelings. “Sort of. I’ve been working on this story about…”

  I trailed off and glanced away. I had a damn good source in front of me, but it was his club, and he was the fucking VP. Before I’d met him and had sex with him, they were just another fun thing to report on. Now I faced a person I liked. His club meant a lot to him and I doubted he’d be thrilled with me poking into their business.

  “What, Haley? What are you working on?”

  “Here’s the thing.” I set my tea down and rubbed my hands on my thighs. “I told you I’m a fluff reporter right now, but I don’t want to do that forever. I want to report on real events. Things that matter to people.”

  “Hence our conversation in Jitters that night.”

  I grimaced. “Yeah. That’s right, I mentioned that, didn’t I?”

  He tilted his head, but didn’t look away. Damn, why was he so determined to get this out of me?

  “I stumbled across some information about a dead FBI agent who’d been embezzling your club while undercover and a dead US Marshal—”

  He hissed and looked away, his expression stoic. “You need to let that one go, Haley.”

  “What? Are you kidding me? This is a huge story. I’m not interested in your club, only the crooked law enforcement officers who got into illegal stuff—”

  “No, it’s too dangerous. This is bigger than you know.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to understand.” I balled my hands into fists under the table and lowered my voice again. “I can’t trust the cops, which is why I anonymously reported the murder. I don’t know who’s involved with the murder of the ADA or if it’s tied to this group of dirty law enforcement. But I wasn’t going to take my chances with them finding me before I’m prepared.”

  Michael shot me a sharp look. “Prepared for what?”

  “To bring them all down and expose them.” I spread my hands. “Don’t you see? This is a career-making story that could get me into the big time of news reporting. I don’t have to mention the connection to your club. I want to make sure the crooked cops are taken down.”

  He shook his head, his lips tightening in to a flat line. I was pretty sure I could convince him to help me if I played my cards right.

  “Come on, Michael. You know I’m right.”

  He made a noncommittal noise and sipped his tea. “Why were the cops looking for you today?”

  “I don’t know. I went to work and they were there looking for me. My friend Tori suggested that my date sold me out and said it was me who reported the murder.” I shrugged as my lips turned down. “It wouldn’t surprise me. That guy’s all about himself and he wouldn’t know a real story if it landed on him.” I shook my head. “The thing is, the crooked cops don’t wear their sponsors on their jackets so I don’t know who I can trust with this. Hell, they took out a US Marshal. I’d be easy pickin’s.”

  “This is a dangerous road you’re walking, Haley.” Michael’s face had gone stoic. “There are secrets you might not like to know. Secrets that can hurt those you care about. Secrets that are meant to stay secret for the safety of many.”

  I drew mys
elf up to my full seated height. “I can be discreet. I always protect my sources.”

  Michael chuckled and shook his head. “You know you sound like every reporter on every TV show on the networks. And how does it work out for the sources on those shows?”

  I scowled. “Shut up. I’m not like that. I have ethics and integrity. The story’s important, but I’m doing this for people. People are the reason and who are most valuable. I have principles, and not just when they’re convenient.”

  He nodded. “Just remember that when the story is as tempting as forbidden fruit. Most reporters don’t care whom they hurt as long as they get their explosive story out. Don’t let the ends justify the means, eh?”

  I wanted to tell him off, but some cops came in the coffee shop and I ducked my head and sank into my thoughts. Hadn’t I always upheld my ethics? I thought so, but I’d always been a fluff reporter and the details of the latest duck-feeding at the park weren’t dangerous to anyone. Would I have enough ethics to walk away from a story when it would make my name in professional circles? Better reporters than I have sold their souls to the devil for such stories. Was I as Machiavellian, justifying hurting the few to inform the many?

  I let those thoughts chase themselves around in my head as I finished my tea until I noticed the cops eyeing Michael’s cut with curiosity.

  “I think we should go.” I bent my head and kept my hair in front of my face as I rifled through my purse.

  “I’m serious, Haley.”

  “I know. So am I.” I nodded toward the cops, one of which spoke on his shoulder radio. “They’re pretty interested in you and me.”

  He nodded and rose. “Don’t worry. They’ll forget about us as soon as we step out the door.”

  I snorted. Sure they would. Just like I’d forget about the dead body I saw in the stairwell on Valentine’s day. A line from a recent song came to me: You know that somethin’ ain’t right. Yeah, I knew deep in my gut a lot of shit was wrong and going down, but proving it and not getting caught in the process were my top priorities.