Hard Proof (Notus Motorcycle Club Book 1)

by Debra Kayn

  "How long is that going to take?"

  "The way the judge works...twenty-four hours if he's in a good mood."

  "Why not sooner?" asked Wayne, frustrated at the lack of exchange.

  "Jesus..." Gomez paused. "Fuck it. Can you come into the station? You might have the answers. You've lived in this area longer than I have. If I wait, we're wasting time. The sooner I verify my recollections with someone who can tell me if I'm remembering right, I can get men out in town and catch this son of a bitch before he strikes again."

  Wayne lifted his head as another car drove by. A woman with two children in the backseat. "Yeah, give me a few minutes, and I'll head that way."

  "I'm in the office. Walk on back," said Gomez. "Thanks, Wayne."

  He disconnected the call. The twins still had an hour before they were due at the bar to get things ready to open for the day. He'd need to call one of the Notus members to escort them across town. Once he finished with Gomez, he could go to the bar and make sure Clara was protected. Until law enforcement made a press release that there was a serial killer in St. John's which would have everyone paying attention, he hated having Clara around the public unprotected.

  Slipping his phone into his pocket, he walked through the front door and found Clara sitting in the living room. He gazed down her body and back up to her eyes. It physically ached to look at her and imagine something happening to her. He couldn't let that happen. Any threat toward her, or Gracie—which affected Clara, needed to end.

  "I need to go." He hooked his hands in his vest pockets. "Gomez needs me down at the Police Department."

  She shot to her feet. "Is someone else missing?"

  He stepped to her and wrapped his arms around her. "No, sweetheart. He wants to talk about the cases, or I wouldn't leave you. I'm going to call Thad and see if he or one of the others can come over and guard the house, then escort you to the bar and stay there until I can get away."

  "Oh." She frowned, shook her head, and said, "Yeah, that's okay. You need to go."

  He kissed her. "I'll set things up."

  Turning away from Clara, he caught sight of Gracie standing at the bottom of the stairs. He lifted his chin, acknowledging her, and then concentrated on calling Thad. Walking to the window, he waited for his MC brother to pick up and got Thad's voice mail.

  "Hey, give me a call. I need to head into the P.D. and need someone to come stay with the twins." He peered out through the slats in the blinds and called Chuck next. When the call connected, he dropped his hand from the window. "Hey, I need a favor."

  "Anything, brother," said Chuck.

  "Gomez wants to see me at the station. Can you come over and stay with Clara and Gracie and when it's time for them to go to work take them to the bar and wait for me to show up?" He turned away from the window and caught Clara looking at him while talking to Gracie, and winked.

  Clara offered him a shaky smile. Damn.

  She put up a brave front, but she wasn't comfortable with him leaving.

  "Yeah. It'll take me an hour. I'm over at Skyland Parts picking up the new muffler for my bike," said Chuck.

  "Nah, that's too long." Wayne ran his hand through his hair. "Where's Thad?"

  Chuck said, "Thad's over on Elm helping Will move out of the apartment and into the house he just bought."

  "Will from work?"

  "Yeah."

  "Damn." Wayne needed to get to Gomez, but he wasn't going to leave the twins alone. "How about Glen?"

  "His mom called and wanted him to come over and help his dad install a new dishwasher. He's supposed to be back at two this afternoon, and then he's meeting us all at Vavoom's."

  "Okay. I'll figure something out. See you later." Wayne disconnected the call.

  Clara had looked at Gracie before she walked to Wayne. "We'll be fine. It's daytime and a Sunday. The neighbors are home. Also, Gracie told me Paxton is swinging by the house to get our key for the storage unit before we have to leave for work because he's going to pick up two more tables for us to have at the bar. We won't be alone long."

  "Paxton knows what happened here with the break-in?" he asked.

  Clara nodded. "We told him, so he was aware that he had to be careful at work when he goes into the alley."

  "Get him on the phone." Wayne handed his cell to Clara.

  While he waited, he glanced at Gracie. She stood with her arms crossed watching them both and listening to the conversation. He couldn't read her expression. It was only then that he realized that after he and Clara had sex that morning, his girl hadn't hummed.

  Why the fuck hadn't she given him a song?

  "Hi, Paxton. This is Clara calling from Wayne Shaw's phone. Wayne would like to talk to you." She smiled at the floor and laughed softly. "I know, but I wasn't sure what name showed on the screen. Okay, here he is."

  He filled Paxton in on what was going on and asked him to come over now, and the twins could follow him to storage and then the bar, that way they weren't left alone. Wayne hooked Clara's neck and thrummed his thumb along her skin.

  "Thanks, man. 'Preciate it." He disconnected the phone and looked at Clara. "Paxton will be here in five minutes."

  "Yeah, he lives close." Clara inhaled and stepped toward the stairs. "I'll get my purse and put my shoes on."

  She grabbed Gracie's hand on her way out of the room and took her sister with her. Wayne, uncomfortable with handing her safety over to anyone, stepped back over to the window. Clara was right. The neighbors were home, and the guy across the street was washing his car in the driveway. Unless with him, Clara and Gracie always stayed together wherever they went. Paxton would watch over them.

  He was hopeful that Gomez was getting closer to getting some suspects to follow-up on. While he understood enough of the procedures law enforcement must follow to properly charge someone for a crime, torturing women, abuse, and killing someone convinced him that some people didn't deserve to live or have a fair trial. They needed to face the front end of a bullet.

  ***

  He stood under cover of the bus stop at the end of the street. From his view, he could barely make out the twins' house. What he could see was the motorcycle in the driveway that'd been there all night. He couldn't wait any longer. Each day the biker was with the women, the harder it would be to take the one who hadn't been brainwashed by the man. He had a chance to save her.

  It was his job to take care of her. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. This time he'd be more patient.

  He reached into his pocket and fingered the three packs of matches. With the biker at the house, he couldn't set fire to the townhouse and draw the women outside. He avoided men like the biker. They were nothing but trouble, always thinking they could outsmart him.

  At every turn, something went wrong. But, he'd received the sign. It was time.

  He walked off in the opposite direction of the house. The picture he'd taken from the twins told him he was going to get the right woman.

  Impatient, he jogged to his car and stopped. No, he couldn't use his car. He'd need to steal another one. He looked all around, spotted a junk car on the other side of Lombard Street, and smiled. Walking back to his car, he planned everything out.

  He'd leave his car close to Vavoom's, jog the four blocks back to steal the car, and be ready. All he had to do was make sure he timed everything right.

  His waiting ended today. He would finally have his Barbara.

  Chapter 25

  The noonday traffic on Lombard Street slowed their trip to Vavoom's from the storage Unit. Clara looked in the rearview mirror. Paxton followed her and Gracie at Wayne's request to stick by them. If their cook-slash-escort were any closer, Paxton's truck would rear end them.

  "I'm going to make myself scarce when we get home after work. Use that time to talk to Wayne." Gracie pulled the lid off her lipstick and applied it to her lips. "I tried to keep myself busy with laundry this morning to give you the chance to talk with him."

  "I know." Clara took th
e lipstick her sister offered and quickly lined her lips. "I'm starting to think the Universe is telling me not to tell Wayne about everything or ask him to find our mother's killer."

  "The Universe?" Gracie zipped her purse and set it on the floor. "More like Lieutenant Gomez. It's hard to move forward with the threat of him being close to Wayne."

  "I know, right?" The light turned green, and Clara pressed the accelerator and entered the intersection. "If Wayne's involvement with law enforcement isn't a sign we're going about this the wrong way, we've completely lost our minds."

  "A little late now." Gracie flipped down the visor. "We moved here because mom and dad are buried in the St. John's Cemetery. We bought the bar to get close to Wayne if he took the job. We never dreamed mom's killer would still be in St. John's and he'd break into our house."

  "We don't know if that was him," she whispered, feeling sick to her stomach.

  The intensity of Gracie's stare heated Clara's neck. The coincidences couldn't be ignored.

  "Gracie?" Clara squeezed the steering wheel and stopped at the intersection. "What if the man who killed our mother also murdered those two young girls?"

  "That's highly unlikely," said Gracie.

  "So is mom's killer breaking into our house, but we're thinking that way."

  Gracie leaned her head back on the seat and looked out the front windshield. "It's speculation. It might be totally different people behind each crime."

  "But, what if it isn't?" Clara glanced over at Gracie.

  "We're not responsible for what others do."

  If that was true, why was she having trouble with what she was about to ask Wayne to do for them?

  The light turned green. Clara pressed the gas pedal. She wished her dad was still alive to support her and give her answers only he could—

  BOOM.

  The car jerked and spun. Clara's head hit the window. She screamed Gracie's name in shock before the airbag crushed her chest. The crunch of metal filling the car from the impact stopped instantly, and her heartbeat filled her ears.

  Blinded in darkness, she couldn't move. Clara moaned trying to open her eyes. It hurt.

  Gracie?

  Tired, so tired. Why wasn't her sister answering her?

  "Clara," said a male voice.

  Her body moved under duress. She groaned, unable to lift her hands to stop.

  "Stay still. I called an ambulance."

  Wetness ran over her upper lip. She licked, sputtering at the odd metal taste. Blood?

  "Can you hear me, Clara? It's Paxton. I'm right beside you."

  "Paxton?" She opened one eye. "Wh-where's my sister?"

  "She's right beside you in the passenger seat. Help is on the way," said Paxton. "Hey, what are you doing? Don't move her."

  "There's gas leaking under the car," said an unfamiliar male voice. "We need to get them away from the vehicle. Help the driver. I'll carry this one away from the wreck."

  "Holy, Mother of Mary," whispered Paxton. "Clara, I'm going to take off your seat belt. Does your neck or back hurt?"

  She couldn't even feel her body, only the vibrations, and pressure. She pried her tongue off the roof of her mouth. "My head. Hurts."

  "You've got a cut. I'm going to try and carry you out of the car. Let me move you. Just stay relaxed and let me do everything." Paxton pulled her legs to the side.

  Why wasn't Gracie talking? Clara lifted her hand, blindly reaching for her sister and grasped air. "Gracie?"

  "She's already out of the car. Hang on to me." Paxton slid his arm behind her back and then she was in his arms.

  Clara let her head fall to his shoulder and blinked through the stinging in her eyes. The pounding in her head intensified. Impossible to keep her eyes open, she closed them as noise pushed in on her from all sides. Strange voices talked, yelled, whispered, and she couldn't understand what they were all saying.

  Sirens split the air. Why wasn't Gracie talking to her?

  She rocked in Paxton's arms, and he said, "I'm putting you on the ground."

  Clara reached out to her side and tried to push up when the hard surface pressed into her. Gentle hands kept her down. She couldn't breathe. Gracie left her. Why couldn't she feel her sister with her?

  "G-Gracie. I need to..." She grabbed a fistful of shirt and blinked rapidly to see flashes of Paxton's face in front of her. "Find my sister."

  "Clara, you're hurt and bleeding," said Paxton.

  "Help Gracie. Something is wrong." She let go of him and grabbed her head. "God, it hurts."

  "The paramedics are here," said Paxton.

  "Go." She slapped out, hitting Paxton. "I need Gracie."

  "Sh...calm down. I'll go."

  Clara inhaled. Her chest ached, and she quickly exhaled. Dazed, she tried to piece together what'd happened. She was driving and then a car was right there. Everything happened so fast.

  "My name is Adam, I work for Metropolis County Ambulance. I'm going to immobilize your head. Please don't try to move. Let me do the lifting, and then we'll see what's going on with you." Hands touched both sides of her neck. "Can you open your eyes?"

  A bright light flashed in front of her, and she squinted. Her stomach rolled, and she moaned.

  "Nauseous?" asked Adam.

  She tried to nod, and when she couldn't move, she said, "Yeah."

  "That's to be expected. You've hit your head, but we'll get you secured and transported to the hospital." Adam touched her leg. "Any pain coming from your extremities? Your legs? Your arms?"

  She moistened her lips. "No. Can you find my sister? I think she might be hurt."

  "Your sister?" said Adam.

  "Yes. Her name's Gracie Nelson." She forced her eyes open and peered through the slits she'd made. "Please. Will you go help her?"

  Adam swung his gaze around and looked back down at her. "Ma'am, you're our only patient here."

  Clara tried to sit up and strained against the brace keeping her immobile. "No, she's here. She was in the —"

  "Somebody help me," yelled Paxton. "Gracie's missing."

  The air left Clara's lungs. Her vision went black. "Gracie!"

  Chapter 26

  Lieutenant Gomez removed a file from the cabinet at the back of his office and returned to the desk. Wayne sat forward. The bar opened in twenty minutes, and he was anxious to get out of here and get to Clara.

  "I'm going to trust you to keep what you see to yourself." Gomez sat down. "We believe we have evidence that will help us bring a suspect to trial once we figure out who is responsible."

  "I don't understand." Wayne leaned his elbow on the desk.

  "Our cold cases aren't digitally filed." Gomez waved his hand in front of him. "That's to say, any unsolved case from ten years back and on are boxed, and the list of evidence for each crime goes inside each box. It's impossible to go through them all, except one by one which would take too fucking long. So, any research is painstakingly slow."

  "You can't research without time running out and the killer taking another victim," muttered Wayne.

  "Correct." Gomez sprawled his hand over the file. "As you know, those in law enforcement retire early, transfer, or burnout. Besides me, the next officer coming up on the seniority list is Whitley, who's been here twelve years. I've had him go over the evidence, and he can't link the Morgan and Hillard cases with any others from his past. But, I know there's something out there. Maybe not when I joined the force, but I heard about it. You were searching for missing persons before I arrived here, so I'm going to put my badge on the wall and have you look at something we haven't released to the public."

  Wayne nodded. "I'll try to help."

  Gomez opened the file, removed two pictures and turned them toward Wayne. He blew out his breath, taking in the photos of the victims at the crime scene. Looking at death was never easy.

  "The killer carved on each of the girls' upper chest." Gomez found another picture and set it beside the others. "What he wrote links him to both cases. Except, I bel
ieve there's been another crime with the same carving. I think...I don't know. I either heard about it, or it's similar to another murder, and it's messing with my head. I can't shake the feeling though that it's significant."

  Wayne picked up the last photo, and Gomez's voice echoed in his head. He ran his hand over his mouth. The seven-year-old girl's chest still welted where the killer used his knife and carved the letters B-a-b-r...no, B-a-r-d.

  He squeezed the bridge of his nose, frustrated, knowing he hadn't seen the word correctly. Trying again, he went slower. B-a-r. Bar. B-a-r...Barbar? He started at the beginning. Barbar...a. Barbara.

  His gaze whipped up to Gomez. "Barbara?"

  "Yes. Same word, same location on the victims," said Gomez.

  Wayne's breath rushed out of him, and he put the picture back on the desk before he crumbled it in his hand. "I've seen it before."

  "You have?" Gomez leaned forward, his brows raising. "In a missing person case?"

  "Yeah." Wayne cupped the back of his neck, the muscles in his shoulders bunching under his vest in tension.

  Gomez grabbed a pen. "Give me as many details as you can."

  "Twenty-two years ago. Her name was Thalia Bowers. She was kidnapped on June twentieth and found dead on Marine Drive June twenty-ninth. She was nineteen years old, blonde, pretty, and loved. She was Thad's younger sister." Wayne's throat tightened. "Her murder went unsolved. She had the name Barbara carved on her chest."

  Gomez kept writing. "I'll pull the box and see if we have any clues that will point us in the right direction."

  "There are none." Wayne shook his head. "There's not a day that goes by that Notus Motorcycle Club hasn't tried to find the man responsible. We've gone over every detail, every connection Thalia had, and we've got nothing. But, going by the pictures. We've got a serial killer in St. John's who has been running around free for the last twenty-two years. Who knows how many other women he's murdered."

  "In the last twelve years, these are the only two who've been abused with the carving on their chest."

  Wayne shook his head. "The only ones you've found."

  "I need to get the information you handed me and get a task force together." Gomez stood, holding the piece of paper in his hand. "I’m going to take this down to the property and evidence room and pull Thalia's box. Then, I'm going to the judge's house. I'm not waiting. Did Thalia have the same last name as Thad?"