Hard Proof (Notus Motorcycle Club Book 1)

by Debra Kayn

  Wayne lifted his hands. "Come on. I've been in here for hours. You're not going to hear something different from me when I've given you all the information you need. You've got my brothers filling up your rooms. There's a serial killer dead that has caused fucking havoc in this town for the last twenty-four years. All I'm asking for is time with my girl. It was her sister, her twin sister, who I rescued. She's worried sick and feels like shit after being in the car accident, too. Let me give her some comfort. Give me this, man."

  "If you would've waited five more minutes, you would've been let go. All the members of Notus Motorcycle Club are finished here." Detective Harrison stepped back into the hallway. "You know the drill. Make sure you stay in town until we wrap up everything to close this case."

  The worry that refused to let go clawed into his back. "Where's Clara?"

  "In with Lieutenant Gomez. She asked to see him."

  He marched down the hallway, meeting Thad, mumbling thanks for the information he passed into the room, and headed straight to Gomez's office. It took everything he had to stop at the closed door and knock and not push his way in.

  "Come in," said Gomez.

  Wayne opened the door. Two steps in, he lifted Clara from the chair and moved her behind him. "She's done here."

  "Wayne." Gomez stood.

  Wayne ignored him and walked Clara out of the office, studying everything about her. The slow steps, the marred forehead, and her red-rimmed eyes. Pushing against the locked front door, he looked over his shoulder at the night attendee at the desk. The buzzer went off, unlocking the door, and he took Clara outside.

  He kept his hand on her lower back, noticing her holding her arm against her chest. "Is your arm hurting?"

  "No. It's Gracie." She stopped walking and looked up at him. "I need to go to her. Can you take me to the hospital?"

  "Can't, sweetheart. I've got my bike. But, I will get you there." He cupped her face, making her look at him. "What the hell were you doing coming here?"

  "I needed to tell the police it was my idea to kill the man who took Gracie and that you were innocent. That I'm the one who asked you to kill him." She lowered her voice. "I don't understand because Lieutenant Gomez said he understood why I wanted the man killed and talked about how Gracie was lucky."

  "Sweetheart, every one of those policemen in there wanted a serial killer dead. They understood why you wanted him killed." He heard whistling and looked up, caught sight of the other Notus members walking out to the parking lot and waved them over. "Glen lives close. He can go home and bring his car back. Then, he can take my bike back to his house, and I'll take you to see Gracie with his car."

  Once he relayed the request to Glen, he had Clara sit on his bike to rest. Even in the overhead parking lot lights, she looked pale. He held on to her and silence fell between them. She'd had a rough twenty-four hours.

  When Glen pulled in ten minutes later, he got Clara in the car and drove away from the police station. "Gracie's probably sleeping. She had surgery tonight on her wrist. You're barely moving. How about we go home, and in the morning, I'll take you to see Gracie during visiting hours."

  The last time he saw her sister, Gracie had been in shock. She wasn't fit to have any visitors, not to mention company in the middle of the night. If he couldn't talk Clara into changing her mind, he'd have to get her in the room somehow. Visiting hours were during the day.

  "I need to see her, Wayne. You probably don't understand, but she'll feel better once she can see I'm all right, and I will, too." Clara leaned her head against the car window and closed her eyes. "I just don't understand why Lieutenant Gomez didn't arrest me."

  "Saying you want to kill someone or telling someone you want someone killed is just talk. It's natural to want to hurt someone for hurting someone you love." Wayne pulled into the hospital parking lot.

  She turned her head and frowned at him. "I offered you money to—"

  "We're here." He pointed ahead. "We'll have to go through the front door. Everything is locked up for the night."

  "Wayne, I —"

  "Not now, Clara." He opened the car door.

  The only thing he wanted to do was take Clara to Gracie. There was nothing else to talk about. Not tonight.

  He guided her into the hospital, slowing his steps. If he hadn't known how important it was for the twins to be together, he'd haul Clara's ass home and make her rest. Her stilted walk and blank expression reminded him of how Gracie looked tied to the bed.

  "Slow down," said Clara, looking up at him.

  His body vibrated not knowing what happened in that bedroom before he'd gotten to Gracie. His gut tightened. There were more questions than answers despite ending a twenty-four-year murder spree.

  The conversation Clara had started with him at her house before he went looking for Gracie weighed heavily on his mind. He hadn't missed what was left unspoken or the fact that she'd made nice with him for a purpose other than wanting to be with him.

  "Sorry," he muttered, leading her to a chair in the lobby. "Sit here while I go see if I can get us into Gracie's room."

  He approached the desk and waited for the woman to lift her gaze from the computer to him. "Clara Nelson would like to see her twin sister, Gracie Nelson. I know it's not visiting hours, but because of the circumstances this is the first chance that Clara can see her sister after the kidnapping."

  The woman's lips formed a perfect circle. "Oh, she was the woman...?"

  He nodded, willing to use a hardship case to get Clara upstairs. "It would mean the world to her if she can go up and see her sister. She's not going to stay long because she's pretty beat up from the accident where her sister was abducted."

  "Let me call the nurses station on the floor she's staying on." The woman picked up a phone, spoke quietly, and then smiled at Wayne when she hung up. "Floor Three. Ms. Nelson is in Room 319, which is across from the nurse's station."

  He leaned over the counter. "Thank you."

  319.

  319.

  319.

  He kept repeating the numbers, not wanting to get them mixed up.

  Clara remained where he put her, looking down at her lap, flexing her fingers. She concentrated all her attention on her hand and startled when he touched her shoulder.

  "Can we go to her?" She stood.

  "Yeah," he said. "She's in room...319."

  Within a couple of minutes, he had Clara at Gracie's door. He stopped her and slid his hand underneath her hair and cupped her neck. "Sweetheart, she might not seem like herself. She's gone through a lot and still hasn't talked to the police. I don't want you to walk in there and be surprised that on top of having surgery, she might not want to answer a lot of questions. I think she'll just want her sister."

  Clara nodded and turned, pushing through the door. Her steps slowed, and she quietly walked to the bed. Wayne stayed behind her, knowing her weakness and the head wound had her in less than tiptop shape.

  Gracie slept on the bed. Clara slipped her hand into Gracie's uninjured hand. He put his hands on her hips when Clara gasped, leaning against the rail of the bed.

  "Sis," whispered Clara. "I’m here."

  Gracie's eyes fluttered open. Wayne stepped back, giving the twins privacy. It was going to be a long road of healing for both of them.

  Chapter 33

  Two weeks later ~

  Clara slid out of the booth at the bar and shook hands with the second waitress she'd hired in the last hour, along with a male bartender. "It'll be great to have you at Vavoom's, Maureen."

  "Thank you." Maureen inhaled deeply, raising her brows. "I'll be here tomorrow at one-thirty."

  "Perfect." Clara walked her to the front door. "We're starting you and Lisa tomorrow, since it's Monday and usually our quietest day of the week. That way you'll get the hang of things and figure out how we run things here and how we cater to the customers. New jobs are always stressful. So, you can enjoy having Tuesday and Wednesday off before coming in on Thursday."
>
  "I look forward to working for you." Maureen waved. "Thank you, again."

  Clara smiled and waited until Maureen was on her way down the sidewalk and shut the door, locking it. Grabbing the papers off the table, she walked into the kitchen.

  Paxton set a pot up on the top shelf. "All ready to go?"

  "Yes." Clara folded the papers in half. "Thanks so much for coming in and being with me while I hired everyone."

  She still found herself nervous to go anywhere alone. It'd been two weeks since the accident when Gracie got kidnapped. While Gracie wasn't ready to return to the bar and her arm was still in a cast, Clara had made the lone decision to hire others to open up the bar. They needed the added income. Gracie's insurance came up short for additional therapy, and Clara could subsidize some of the bills if the bar opened again.

  "Not a problem." Paxton grabbed his keys on the counter. "My wife has her sister over at the house. They like to scrapbook, so the whole dining room is one big mess. I've learned it's more relaxing to let them have the place to themselves when they get their craft supplies out."

  "What a sweetheart." Her laughter fizzled, realizing what word she'd used.

  Sweetheart had been Wayne's name for her. The ache in her chest always present, she followed Paxton out the back door and turned to lock the deadbolt with her key. She never thought she'd survive one day without Wayne, much less fourteen.

  She found the key for the car and looked up at Paxton. "Enjoy the rest of your day off, Paxton."

  "You, too. Ms. Clara. Tell Gracie I miss her." Paxton strode to his truck.

  Clara slid into the car and started the engine, following Paxton out of the alley. Once she sped up along the street, the clear plastic covering the passenger window flapped, filling the vehicle with a continual slap-slap-slap. Until her insurance company gave her a check for her totaled car, she was stuck driving Gracie's older car that was broken into.

  She went around the block, skipping the intersection where Roy Jenson smashed into them, creating the perfect opportunity to abduct Gracie, while everyone's attention stayed on the accident and her.

  If she'd been a minute later or earlier, there would've been a chance that Jenson would've missed his opportunity. It would've given her one more hour, one more day, to tell Wayne what she knew and he could've stopped everything from happening. She dashed away the tear that fell.

  She should've told Wayne and given herself time to explain her and Gracie's reasons for making their mother's killer pay. Because she'd waited, she almost lost Gracie, and she lost Wayne.

  All the interruptions were excuses she used because she was afraid of ruining things between them. She loved him. Life without him was a painful reminder of how her life had been richer with him by her side. She had her sister, the bar, her life, and she could go on living, but it wouldn't be the same.

  Wayne gave her every reason to smile. The goofy feeling that settled over her when his hand always found her lower back. The way he enjoyed his pancakes any hour of the day or night. The way he cupped her butt when they slept. He never became jealous of her relationship with Gracie and respected her need to have her twin in her life.

  He'd made her hum.

  A hum she'd yet to hear but brought a deep contentment only he gave her.

  She flipped her turn signal on and checked traffic, then pulled onto the street for home. Today had been the longest she'd been apart from Gracie since Roy Jenson stole her sister from her. Since the night Wayne took her to the hospital— she'd slept in a cot by Gracie's hospital bed for two nights— she'd stuck by her sister through the recovery. Gracie had yet to get angry or depressed. She'd come home and wrapped herself in safety, taking no interest in going out or what was happening with the bar.

  Gracie only went to her therapy appointments twice a week, and Clara went with her and stayed in the waiting room supporting her. Thank God, Roy Jenson never had time to rape her sister or kill her. But Gracie had to listen to the killer describe the moments he'd kidnapped the original 'Barbara', their mom, and how he'd killed her. And, she'd learned that other women were kidnapped over the years as he tried to replicate and mold them into their mother.

  The therapist gave Clara the information without the details at Gracie's request. It helped her understand a little about what her sister was going through. But, she knew Gracie better than anyone, and her sister would survive. She was strong.

  Clara slowed down and pulled next to the curb in front of the house. She grabbed her purse and stepped out. Since her garage remote was at the junk yard with her totaled car and Gracie's remote was still over at Wayne's house, she couldn't park inside.

  Halfway up the driveway, she looked up and dropped her purse. Wayne stood beside his bike, his gaze intense...and annoyed? Upset? Angry?

  Unable to draw a breath over the shock of seeing him, she looked at the ground, bent over, and picked up her purse. Her chest heaved as if drowning and Wayne alone pushed her to the surface and she could finally fill her lungs with much-needed air.

  "Wh-what are you doing here?" She clamped her lips together, knowing she'd snapped an accusation at him when none of what had transpired was his fault. She'd asked him to stay away.

  "Thad said you showed up at the bar this morning. I thought it would be a good time to talk before you go back to work." Wayne tilted his head, studying her. "You got your stitches out."

  She lifted her arm and touched the small patch of short hair that had begun to grow back from where they shaved around her wound. He'd changed the subject to throw her off balance.

  "What did you need to talk about?" She slipped her purse over her shoulder.

  He looked back at the house. "Can we go in?"

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Since coming home from the hospital, she'd followed Gracie's request not to have Notus Motorcycle Club members or Paxton at the house. At first, she'd thought her need to have privacy was because she wasn't feeling well and needed time to heal. In the last several days, she'd started to suspect Gracie was afraid to live her life and it was easier to hide away with no reminders of how much she'd lost.

  The doctor had told her to take her time. Gracie had gone through a traumatic experience few people lived through and to watch for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Clara watched over her and would give Gracie time.

  "Can we sit on the front step instead?" At his nod, she walked to the front door and stopped. "Just let me tell Gracie I'm home, and I'll come right back outside."

  She stepped inside and swung her arm to shut the door, and the door bounced back to her hand. Jerking her arm away, she gasped as Wayne stepped around her and walked into the living room. She rushed over to him and grabbed his vest.

  "We need to go out. Gracie doesn't want anyone to come over," she whispered, tugging on the leather material.

  "You sure about that?" He walked to the bottom of the stairs as if he wasn't dragging a person behind him by his vest—her.

  She refused to let go. "Wayne, stop."

  "Gracie," he shouted. "It's Wayne. Can you come down here?"

  Clara let go of Wayne. "She's not going to come out of her room if she knows..."

  Gracie walked to the top of the stairs, put her good hand on the railing, and without any hesitation, took each step until she reached the bottom. Clara stepped forward to be by her side, and Wayne grabbed her wrist, keeping her beside him. Caught between her twin and the man she loved, she could only stand there and stare at the way they looked at each other.

  Wayne moved first when he lifted his arm out to the side. Gracie leaned, rather than stepped, into his embrace. Clara struggled to swallow the emotional tug at seeing, feeling, experiencing, her sister let down her shield and accept Wayne into her space.

  Keeping Wayne away for the last two weeks was never about Gracie's need for privacy. Clara needed to let him go. She'd asked him to take someone's life and even if Lieutenant Gomez believed she made the confession because of being scared and worried for Gra
cie and her emotions came into play when she asked Wayne to kill Roy Jenson, she was coldly rational. She might as well have pulled the trigger herself because she'd planned along with Gracie.

  She'd stepped into Wayne's life not to fall in love with him, but have him find their mom's murderer. It was their wish that Wayne would kill Jenson.

  It was premeditated murder.

  It was murder for hire.

  It was a contract hit. Clara and Gracie had ten thousand dollars set aside to pay Wayne for committing a crime.

  Gracie lifted her head off Wayne's chest and smiled at him. Clara turned away, blinking furiously to stop the tears from falling. It seemed like months instead of two weeks since she'd seen her sister smile, and Wayne had brought that out of her.

  "You saved me," whispered Gracie. "I can't thank you enough for—"

  "It was my job." Wayne let go of Clara's wrist and led Gracie over to the couch.

  Guilt soured Clara's stomach. Between the three of them, they all knew the truth. She'd hired Wayne to kill.

  Clara wiped at her cheeks and turned around, catching Wayne's gaze. He patted the couch on the other side of him, motioning her to join them. She lifted her chin, refusing. To be that close to him and sit beside him in her home would break her.

  "I thought it was about time to come over and see how you're doing now that you've had time to get back on your feet." Wayne tapped Gracie's cast. "How's your wrist."

  "It's doing better. It seldom aches with it in the cast." Gracie wiggled the fingers sticking out of the purple fiberglass mold.

  "That's good. You'll be pouring beers before you know it." Wayne moistened his lips. "Over the years...I've been lucky enough to find a dozen or so missing persons and take them home to their family. For reasons of their own, they'd ran away and needed to be persuaded to return. The ones that involved kidnappings never ended happily. You were the only abduction that Notus successfully completed. I wanted to come over here and talk to you, to let you know when you go back to working at the bar, we'll be there. If you want escorts to the store or get your hair done and Clara's busy, you can call any one of us, and we'll be here for you."