Moloch climbed off the bike and removed an old sweatshirt and jeans from a saddlebag. He replaced them with the bag Darla had given him, and handed his clothing to Darla.
“Do you remember what to do?”
“Yeah, baby, but when do I get the coke?”
“As soon as you finish the job, now get busy.”
Darla scurried off towards the backyard and Moloch went inside the house.
***
A little while later, as they were all leaving to travel south, Moloch watched Gorgon sniff the air as he walked over to get on his bike.
“What’s burnin’?”
“Andrea’s old clothes, they should be ashes by now,” Moloch said.
Gorgon cursed.
“I forgot all about them. I’ve been busy thinking about the surprise we’ll have in store for Soldier-boy later.”
“You found the address?”
“Hell yeah, they’re on the Internet. I even know what the place looks like,” Gorgon said, as he reached into an inside pocket of his jacket. “The old lady let me use her copier, here take this one. The address is on there.”
“About those clothes, Darla was gonna just toss ‘em in the garbage, but I thought it’d be better to burn them.”
“Hell yeah, if the cops ever found those bloody clothes, Andrea would be fucked.”
“I know,” Moloch said.
He also knew that if he ever got arrested for anything, that he could barter his way out of it by throwing Andrea under the bus.
It might also be a way to force Gorgon out of the club someday. But first, Soldier-boy had to die.
Minutes later, they were all on the move, but oddly enough, they all left separately, as they headed south to get payback against Bo Raines.
CHAPTER 9
Pierce shook the hand of Bart Raines while thinking that he looked like an older version of his son, Bo. However, Bart’s hair was dark, not blond.
Like his son, Bart Raines had been a Marine, and he was wounded in the first Gulf War. The man looked like a tank to Pierce, although he did notice that Bart Raines walked with a slight limp.
Karen Raines, Bo’s Mother, was a good looking woman in her mid-forties who had the same strawberry-blonde hair of her missing daughter, Jenna.
Pierce was with them on their farm on Route 523 in Flemington, New Jersey. There were cows visible in the near distance and Pierce had seen chickens walking about. On his ride in, he saw that a neighboring farm actually had buffalo roaming about.
Pierce looked out from his seat on the Raines’s front porch. If you just woke up there somehow, you’d never guess that you were just minutes away from a number of shopping centers and major highways.
Pierce’s own rural property was situated much the same, as urban sprawl expanded each year and crept closer to his bucolic acreage. He sometimes wondered if the entire state of New Jersey, The Garden State, would someday be nothing but factories, highways, and shopping centers.
Whenever that thought did cross Pierce’s mind, he and Val would take a drive farther south into Salem County, in the Delaware Valley. Spending time among the small towns, large sections of open land and beautiful vistas would restore him.
Stopping in at the area’s wineries didn’t harm his disposition either.
***
“Have you located our daughter, Detective Pierce?” Bart Raines asked.
“No sir, I’m sorry to say I haven’t, and the officer who was searching for her... he was murdered yesterday.”
Bart Raines grimaced as he nodded his head.
“Yeah, we saw that on the news this morning. Detective Finder was a good man. I could tell that he was serious about bringing Jenna home.”
“Your son is equally determined to do so, although I can’t say that I approve of his methods.”
Karen Raines glared at Pierce and then spoke to her husband.
“Maybe we should call our lawyer?”
Bart Raines reached over and gave his wife’s hand a squeeze.
“No need, if I’m reading Detective Pierce right, he’s not out to get Bo, but you knew Detective Finder personally, didn’t you?”
“Yes sir, we were friends.”
“I thought so. I could see the grief in your eyes when you told me that he’d been killed. Now, you can’t work his murder investigation because you’re too close to the victim, but you can work the killing of these bikers, am I right?”
“Yes, and I’m aware that you’re ex-military, but were you ever a cop, Mr. Raines?”
“My uncle was, and I have two cousins on the town police force. See, Detective Pierce, my boy Bo knows the law, he respects the law, and as a Marine, he’s even taken a pledge to defend The Constitution. Now, all that being said, Bo has reason to believe that the Bay Street Demons have abducted our Jenna. They will return her to us safe and sound or as God is my witness, my boy will see that they all die.”
Pierce let those words hang in the air for a moment before he responded. When he did speak, he tried to come across as neutral, when the truth was, he couldn’t fault Bo Raines’ tactics. Degenerates like the Bay Street Demons only understood brutality.
“Regardless of the outcome, your son’s life has changed forever. The best thing he could hope for is to go to trial and be found innocent.”
Karen Raines leaned forward. Her blue eyes were so vibrant that Pierce could tell that she had been a stunning beauty in her younger years.
“What would you do if a group of animals abducted someone you loved, Detective Pierce?”
Pierce didn’t even hesitate in answering.
“I would hunt them down and kill them. I would also find myself in a world of trouble, because another cop would be hunting me down to bring me to justice.”
“And putting our son in jail for killing these bikers, is that your idea of justice?” Karen Raines asked.
Pierce sighed.
“No ma’am, it is not.”
Bart Raines stared at Pierce.
“Ask your questions, Pierce. It’s why you’re here.”
Pierce smiled. He’d be dammed if he didn’t like these people.
“Have either of you been contacted by your son lately?”
Both of them shook their heads.
“Do you know how I can make contact with your son?”
More head shaking. Pierce removed a card from an inner pocket and wrote his cell phone number on it.
“If Bo makes contact, please tell him to get in touch with me, all right?”
“That I’ll do,” Bart said. “But he won’t be making contact. We won’t see him until he brings our Jenna home.”
“I pray he does bring her back, for her sake and yours. Also, I want you to know that we’re still looking for your daughter.”
Karen Raines wiped at a tear.
“I just want my children back home safe and sound. Is that too much to ask?”
“No ma’am,” Pierce said. “It’s not.”
***
Pierce was five minutes from the farm and headed back to the station when he realized what he’d been seeing over the last few miles.
A motorcycle went by on the other side of the highway. It was the fifth one he’d seen in the last four miles and they had all been headed south, towards the Baines’ farm.
Pierce’s first thought was that he was seeing the Bay Street Demons, but then he scoffed at the idea. The Demons rode together in a pack, not separately, and there were thousands of people in New Jersey with motorcycles.
And yet, every rider he’d seen was dressed like a biker, right down to the leather vests and boots.
No one had reported seeing the Demons since the murders at the massage parlor the night before. Pierce had assumed that they were laying low somewhere and licking their wounds.
But would they do that?
No, they wouldn’t. Pierce thought.
The Demons would be more likely to come up with a plan to fight back against Bo Raines’ attack with one of their
own.
They would fight back. They would fight fire with fire. Bo had killed two of theirs, maybe they would kill two of his. Or, better yet, kill one and take one as a hostage to draw him in.
When another motorcycle flew by going south, Pierce studied the rider as well as he could at highway speed. The rider was wearing a mirrored helmet, but his long unruly hair spilled out from beneath it.
Pierce only caught a glimpse, but the rider’s vest bore a patch, and although Pierce couldn’t discern an emblem, he did see a flash of color. It had been red, such as the crimson gang patch worn on the vests of the Bay Street Demons.
Pierce made an illegal U-turn across a grass median strip and headed back to the Raines’s farm.
He had been looking for Bo Raines, but he’d found the Bay Street Demons.
CHAPTER 10
Jake Collins and Stacey Hightower had spent the morning checking local hotels and motels for a sign of Bo Raines.
They were coming up empty after a promising lead turned out to be just a look-a-like for Raines. The man had been big and blonde, but he was forty and a drug company representative from Delaware.
When Stacey declared that she was hungry, Collins suggested a diner he knew of on Route 206, and the two of them were soon seated together in a booth and having pancakes.
“My daughter is going to be jealous. She loves blueberry pancakes,” Stacey said.
“What’s her name?” Collins said.
“Christine, but she’s only eight, so of course she’s called Christy.”
The waiter appeared and poured more coffee. Jake noticed that the man was checking out Stacey while trying not to be obvious about it. After the waiter walked away, Stacey smiled at Jake.
“So, what’s her name?”
“Excuse me?” Jake said.
“The girlfriend, what’s her name?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend, Stacey.”
“Get the hell out of here, a hunk like you.”
Jake cleared his throat.
“It’s true, but what about you, are you seeing anybody?”
Stacey shook her head.
“No, I’m not.”
Jake’s grin lit up the diner, but Stacey held up a hand.
“Before you get any ideas, I don’t date cops. No offense; it’s just a rule with me.”
Jake was heartbroken. One second Stacey was calling him a hunk and the next she was telling him that he was disqualified as dating material.
“Your rule sucks,” Jake said.
Stacey looked taken aback by his bluntness.
“Oh really? Well I think it’s a good rule. A person’s work life and their personal life should be separated. It keeps things simpler.”
Jake pushed his plate away and took a sip of his coffee. He drank his coffee black. It was a habit he had picked up from his partner, Pierce.
Stacey leaned closer.
“You know, if I ever decide to break my rule, you’d be at the top of the list.”
“Stop, I don’t need you to patronize me. I’m not a kid.”
“I never said you were, but you are kind of young.”
“So are you,” Jake said.
Stacey laughed.
“Now who’s being patronizing?”
“I mean it, Stacey. You’re a young good looking woman, even if your no dating cops rule sucks.”
Stacey stared at Jake until he became uncomfortable.
“What?”
“Nothing, now why don’t we get back to work?”
***
Pierce left his car along the side of the road on route 523, climbed a four-foot-high fence, and moved towards the Raines’ farmhouse.
He knew that he would feel like a fool if he were wrong about the Bay Street Demons being on the verge of attacking the farm. If Bart Raines caught him lurking about his property and nothing was wrong, he would have some explaining to do.
He soon put that fear aside when he walked over a hill and saw a line of motorcycles parked together without their riders.
Pierce removed his gun, as he tried to recall the last time he had used it while on duty. It had been years, and at that time, he hadn’t needed to fire it. He knew that wouldn’t be the case this time.
His gun was a Glock 19 and he was a good shot, but not a marksman by any means. As he moved towards the farmhouse, he took out his phone and was relieved to see that he had good service. Before dialing 9-1-1, Pierce pointed his gun towards the sky and pulled the trigger once.
If Bart and Karen Raines were unaware that they had uninvited guests, they weren’t anymore.
***
Gorgon cursed and looked over at Moloch as the sound of Pierce’s warning shot echoed through the air. They were crouched near the barn with six other Bay Street Demons, while another man waited nearby for a signal. That man, a raw recruit named Chuck, was riding a motorcycle with a sidecar. The sidecar was to be used to transport their hostage.
Gorgon turned and looked back from where the shot came from.
“That couldn’t be the farmer could it?”
“No,” Moloch said. “We just saw him and his wife go in the house. He couldn’t have circled around us that quick. It was probably that kid, Chuck.”
“Why the hell did Chuck fire off a round? Now Soldier-boy’s parents will know we’re here,” Gorgon said.
Moloch shrugged.
“I didn’t even know he had a gun, but does it really matter? I mean, what’s the worst that the farmer can throw at us, an old shotgun? There’s eight of us and we’re here to kill him. I say we rush the house, kill the bastard, and take Soldier-boy’s mom as a hostage.”
Gorgon thought it over, and yeah, they did have eight guys and a ninth man if it was needed. When he looked at the other Demons, he saw that they were looking at him in puzzlement, wondering why he was hesitating at all.
He stood straight up and began walking towards the farmhouse. He had to look strong and in command. He just hoped that the farmer couldn’t shoot worth a damn.
***
Inside the farmhouse, Bart Raines was removing weapons and ammo from his gun safe while his wife kept watch at the windows while holding a shotgun.
When she saw Gorgon step out from behind the barn, and followed by the other men, she shouted to her husband.
“Bart, it’s those bikers! There’s a bunch of them.”
Bart Raines came up beside his wife. He was wearing a tactical vest while carrying an AR-15.
“If anyone but me comes in this house, use the shotgun,” Bart said.
He was headed for the rear door in the kitchen when his wife grabbed his arm.
“Look out there. There’s eight of them and they’re all armed. Stay in here with me and wait for the police to arrive.”
Bart stared out the window and saw that the Demons were spreading out as they drew closer.
“We can’t wait. If they rush the house front and back, they’ll make it inside. I have to take the fight to them. Now get down behind the old cast iron stove and keep that gun pointed towards the back door.”
“Please be careful. Oh God, this is like living in a nightmare,” Karen said.
Bart kissed her, opened the door, and stepped outside while shouldering his rifle.
***
Pierce was coming up behind the young biker with the sidecar at about the same time that Bart Raines had been taking his rifle from his gun safe.
The biker with the sidecar was young, maybe eighteen, and he had his eyes locked on the barn and appeared to be nervous.
Pierce grabbed a motorcycle helmet off the rear of the bike and smashed it against the side of the kid’s head. Normally, Pierce would have done the whole “Police! Put your hands where I can see them and get down on the ground,” routine. But there was no time for that, and speaking aloud might alert the other Demons.
The young biker fell to the ground like a sack of loose sand and sprawled in the grass.
After cuffing the kid’s wrists behind his ba
ck, Pierce moved on, heading closer to the barn, and towards the house, where danger awaited.
CHAPTER 11
Jimmy Drake kept a virtual office in an upscale building, and it was where he would meet new clients.
He had no need of a full-time secretary and his real office was either his motorcycle or his pick-up truck, depending on which one he was using at the time.
He had an iPhone and an iPad, and they were usually all the office equipment he needed.
Whenever he read a novel about a PI, he wondered why the idiot would have a real office and a secretary. The office made it handy for his enemies to find him, while the secretary was invariably used as a hostage in every other book.
To Jimmy, it made much more sense to be elusive and to have none of the people you cared about involved in your business.
He had rented the bland office for two hours and it would cost him a hundred bucks. That was okay, because it was all part of the service he provided, and his client would ultimately be footing the bill.
He spotted his client the second she climbed out of her BMW, and even from three floors up he could tell that she was a hot one.
From the little she had said on the phone, he knew that someone was treating her badly, but that it was more than a simple dispute in a divorce. He didn’t even know her real name, just that she said to call her Mrs. Smith. It wouldn’t have surprised Jimmy had she not shown up at all.
Only about four out of five clients actually appeared after making their initial contact. People got cold feet, changed their minds, or maybe they solved their problems themselves. In any event, Jimmy had spent many an hour sitting in the office and waiting for someone who never showed.
He was glad that this one had decided to appear, and even happier when she stood in the open doorway, and he could get a good look at her up close.
The woman was blonde, shapely, and well dressed in labels that even Jimmy had heard of, like Gucci, Prada, and Armani. Jimmy shook her delicate hand and asked her to have a seat, as a nagging feeling came over him that he had met the woman before.
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