Predator Patrol (Mars Cannon Novel #2)

by Nicolette Pierce

  "You're from different paths. Sometimes it's hard meeting in the middle. It's like walking barefoot on gravel."

  He arched his brow. "The next thing you'll tell me is love will smooth the way and all cuts and bruises from the jagged path will be healed."

  I smirked. "Something like that."

  He winced. "Let's drop the subject. It looks like the girls arrived."

  Ida pulled into the left and Mrs. Janowski pulled into the spot on the right. She and the others hopped out and stretched.

  "I think we need a new tactic," she said.

  "I think you're right," T agreed. "Aaron could be inside somewhere and we've missed him several times. We should go door to door. Business to business. He's a kid with no transportation and probably no money."

  "Would his school have information on him?"

  T shook his head. "He didn't go to school. When you're a kid off the grid, you don't go to school or make friends. There’s no childhood."

  My stomach sank past my toes.

  We stood for a moment in silence.

  "Wait! I'm his friend. Perhaps he reached out to someone else on the internet too?"

  "I'm sure he reached out to many people on the internet. That’s his job. He rounds up kids and lays traps for Grub."

  "It wouldn't hurt to check. I remember him playing a game with Fartman02. I can ask if he knows anything."

  "It's a long shot but worth a chance," Ida said.

  "We'll go door to door and Mars can put feelers out on the website."

  Four employees carried bags and drinks.

  "I hope you ladies are hungry," T said. He pulled out a burger and handed it to me. "Eat up. We have a few miles to go before we're done."

  I took the offered burger knowing if I didn't eat, I'd be weak kneed and ready to pass out within the first mile.

  "I have to make a few phone calls," I said. With the wet t-shirt event tomorrow night, I had to wrangle a few favors. I know from experience an event with no prep time can be a disaster. However, the bar is already a disaster and desperate for funds.

  I took another bite of the burger and pulled out my phone. There were a couple messages that would have to wait. One text caught my attention. I opened it.

  He's coming 4 u.

  Chapter 16

  I choked on my burger after reading the text message. Mrs. Janowski slid into action and pounded my back. Through teary eyes combined with Mrs. Janowski's beating, I jammed my phone in T's hand.

  "Breathe, Mars!" She whacked again.

  I held up my hand to stop her assault. "I'm fine!" I wheezed. The burger had catapulted down my throat five whacks ago.

  T's brow quirked. "All better? Mrs. J., you're stronger than you look."

  "I've got guns on these babies," she said, flexing her biceps. Unfortunately, there was more sagging skin than muscle. We all nodded our head as if we saw her mighty guns.

  "Mars received a text message," T said, directing the conversation back to Aaron. "It's from an unknown number and its dated last night." He shot me an exasperated look.

  "I didn't know it came in last night. I was a little busy," I offered as a shabby excuse.

  "It's true," Mrs. Janowski said with a confirming nod. "She was busy. Really busy. I witnessed the whole thing."

  A searing heat ran from head to toe. "Mrs. J.!"

  "Well, maybe not the whole thing. I couldn't see your bed from the window. You really need new curtains."

  "Curtains and a neighbor who doesn't spy," Sylvia clucked.

  "I wasn't spying. I was looking for suspicious activity."

  "There's nothing suspicious about what Mars was doing!" Ida barked with a knee slap.

  The heat surged until I was certain I'd burst into flames.

  "All joking aside," Ida said, composing herself. "Was he big?"

  Edna squeaked and fanned herself with her napkin.

  My head dropped in my hands. These ladies are going to give me an ulcer, I thought miserably.

  "We have a problem," I said, redirecting the conversation yet again.

  Ida shook her head with a woeful expression. "Don't think of a small penis as a problem. Think of it as a reason to experiment. It's sad when a man as handsome as Evan is small in the pants. It doesn't seem right, does it?"

  "She was talking about the text message; not Evan's tallywhacker." Mrs. Janowski hid her mouth behind her hand. "Large condoms," she whispered to Ida.

  Edna fanned faster, Ida and Sylvia chuckled, T froze to his spot with an anguished look, and I felt as though my body was combusting at blacksmith temperatures.

  T cleared his throat. "Uh . . . this is important. I think it's a warning from Aaron. It says 'he's coming for you'. I have a suspicion Grub is looking for Aaron, and Aaron is keeping tabs on Grub. We're chasing each other in circles. I think we should stop searching and sit still."

  "If we sit still, will Grub or Aaron find us? I don't know if I like the sound of that. Something could go terribly wrong," Ida said.

  "Right now we're all chasing after the other person. Grub already knows how to find Mars which means Aaron knows too. I hate to say it, but this kid might be smarter than all of us combined. He's tracking Grub and communicating with Mars. I have a feeling he'll come to us before we can find him . . . if we’re ever be able to find him. He already knows we're looking for him."

  "He's only eleven years old," I argued. "We can't leave an eleven year old to fend for himself."

  "We'll help him," T said. "But let's stop the search. We're chasing each other’s tails."

  "Then what do we do?" Ida asked.

  "What about Mars? We don't need a repeat of last time," Mrs. Janowski said.

  "Mars and I will see if we can track any of Aaron's acquaintances on the internet," T said. "The rest of you ladies print and hang wanted posters of Grub around town. Between the police and the posters, it’ll throw heat on him. A quicker reaction from him means less time to hunt Aaron."

  Edna raised her hand.

  "You don't need to raise your hand, Edna. What is it?" T asked.

  "Why is Grub coming for Mars? Why would he single her out?"

  "I'm not sure. Perhaps because she's the one person Aaron reached out to. He might be able to draw Aaron out by using Mars."

  "That's a thought," Mrs. Janowski said. "It's not like he could use her for his other purposes. At least I don't think so. I don't know that much about child trafficking, but she's a little too old to pass as a child."

  "Do people like that have a buyer or something?" Sylvia asked. "We could backtrack to Grub."

  "The police are looking at all the angles. I'll see if there are any leads," T said.

  "You're late," Hank grumbled.

  "I don't have a schedule, therefore I’m not late. I called you and left a message." I rounded the bar. The Blue Thunderballs had just rolled in when T dropped me off. He was heading to the police to wrestle a few leads. I only found a few kids who knew of Aaron but only by his user name. All they could tell me was that he was good at games.

  "Jack, start up the grill," Hank shouted as the first of the Thunderballs trickled in.

  Brandy hung on a man's arm, thoroughly entranced by his long dirty-blond hair, skull tattoo, and a grin that said, "I'm approachable, but I might just bite if you're a cute girl". I tried to wave her down. She only had eyes for her biker in leather and jeans.

  "Brandy!" I called.

  She glanced over, dazed as if yanked from her lover’s enchantment. Oh, brother. She was head over heels. She said a few words and gave him a kiss that would leave even Mrs. Janowski flabbergasted. She drifted over on a cloud with a beaming smile.

  "Is that a new guy?" I asked.

  "His name is Boneyard. Isn’t he hot? We met on the way back. He said I could ride with him. All that body contact!" She shivered. "I have to keep my eye on him; Courtney has been salivating over him."

  "What happened to the guy you rode out with?"

  "He's okay. I was never really in
to him. What's this?" She asked when I set a drink in front of her.

  "Sex on the Beach. I'm starting to make cocktails. I don't know many recipes yet."

  She took a long sip and sighed. "I needed that! I'm so sick of beer."

  "Will the Blue Thunderballs be here tomorrow? I'm putting together a wet t-shirt contest."

  "Is that what those signs are for? I couldn't figure them out. It looked like someone was trying to draw mountains from an aerial view or maybe goggles."

  "That would be Bob's version of boobs."

  She chuckled. "Maybe he needs a refresher."

  "I don’t think any woman should have to put themselves in that position."

  Her eyes cut through the room. "Courtney!" She slammed her hand on the bar and launched off the stool. "Get off my man!"

  My eyes followed as she stormed through the bar, shoving her way to a brunette with a spilling cleavage. It was the same woman who slapped me. For a petite woman, Brandy could really move big men out of her way. A smile slinked to the brunette’s face, her hand running the length of Boneyard's arm.

  "Boneyard and I ride together. Get your hands off!" Brandy growled.

  I scurried from behind the bar. "Hank, I think there's going to be a fight." When he didn't move, I struggled to shove through the gathering crowd. I broke through to see Brandy slap Courtney's hand off Boneyard. The man looked at Courtney with a sly grin. I had an inkling this wasn't the first fight over him.

  Courtney wrapped her arm around his and held fast. "He's found someone else to ride with."

  "You have Bull. I'm sure he'd have something to say about this!" Brandy knocked her hand off again.

  Courtney's eyes flashed. "If you're so interested in Bull, you can have him. I’ve set my sights higher." She cozied up to Boneyard, eying him like a juicy steak.

  Brandy fisted her hands in Courtney's hair and yanked. Courtney yelped as she was forced back. She wrestled free from Brandy's grasp, slapping her with a palm as flat as a spatula. I winced at the cracking sound. That had to hurt. Judging from Brandy's reddening cheek, she'll need ice. Her eyes narrowed.

  "He's not worth it!" I shouted just before they hurled towards each other.

  The bikers crushed in to see the action, leaving enough room for the women to fight. There was no sign of Hank or Jack. This must be a test to see if I can break up a fight.

  I watched as the women tumbled and clawed. I really, really don't want to get in the middle of this, I thought as I crept in. A leg kicked out as they wrestled to the ground, nailing my shin. I groaned and hobbled the rest of the way against all sound reasoning.

  "He's not worth it!" I repeated, catching Courtney's arm as she swung. "He's dirty and probably has fleas."

  Courtney struggled free and threw me. I landed near Boneyard's feet. He glanced down unwillingly to give me a hand. I guess I understand.

  I latched on to Brandy's feet as she flailed from Courtney's backhand. "Stay down and live another day!" I begged.

  "She trying to take my man! She has her own!" She struggled free and leaped on Courtney, clinging to her like a monkey with wild hair and a ripped shirt.

  "You deserve love, not a scum bag who enjoys watching you fight over him!" My voice strained over the cheering and whistles.

  I gave one last ditch effort by dragging Brandy off Courtney and sandwiching myself between. They swung at each other from around me.

  "Enough!" I hollered.

  A shove from Courtney caused me to trip, taking Brandy down with me. Courtney piled on top, scratching and biting.

  "Owww!"

  A freezing splash of water crashed down on us. The ice water stole my breath, halting me in place.

  "Holy crap!" I gasped a moment later.

  "What the hell?" Courtney barked.

  "If you act like cats in heat, you get treated like cats in heat," Ida replied, holding the bucket. "Where's Bull?"

  Courtney narrowed her defiant eyes but answered. "He's at the hotel; ate a bad hotdog or something."

  "You get on over to the hotel then. As for you," Ida stared at Brandy who was wide eyed with snarled hair and red patches blooming on her face, "get some taste in men. This dirt bag couldn't even spell your name let alone remember it the next morning. Have Hank give you an ice pack."

  The girls scattered. A loud protest filled the bar as disappointed men dispersed.

  I hauled myself up. "When did you get here?"

  "Just now. I had to drop off papers for Hank."

  "Why didn't anyone help me?"

  "No one breaks up a chick fight unless blood is drawn. It gives the men some cheap entertainment."

  "That's not right," I said, wincing at the bite mark left on my forearm.

  "I don't think so either. Things will change; I feel certain of it." With a half hidden smile, she made her way to the door. T gave her a nod.

  "You could have helped me," I scolded.

  "Can't do that," T said. "I'm watching the door. Like Ida said, no blood was drawn. You were holding your own. Though, there are a few holding moves that could help you next time."

  "There was blood drawn." I stuck my forearm to his nose.

  He glanced at it. "It's red but there's not a speck of blood."

  "Maybe not," I said, letting my arm fall to my side. "But it opened my eyes. I'm completely unprepared for fights."

  "They aren't that common."

  "This is my second one already!"

  "Ida's ice water blast worked."

  "Would it work on men too?"

  He shrugged. "I guess it depends how angry they are."

  "I'll come up with something. This is the last fight!" I vowed. Ida's bucket of water gave me an idea. "I'm taking my ten," I hollered to Hank and shoved through the kitchen door.

  Jack flipped burgers as I passed through and out the back door. The backlot was a gravel overflow parking area. I doubt it's been used in decades. I wandered the perimeter until I found what I was looking for. I cranked on the spigot. It took a few tries before it eventually loosened. Water flowed through the hose. The only problem was the hose wasn't very long and it didn't have a spray gun. That can be remedied. I cranked the water off and headed back to the kitchen.

  "You look like you're up to something," Jack said. “And wet.” He tossed a stained kitchen towel to me.

  "I refuse to be caught in another fight. There has to be a way to stop fights without becoming physically involved." I patted off water.

  "When you figure it out, let me know. I've had more than my share of black eyes."

  I nodded and sank down in a rickety chair off to the side. "I'm taking a break."

  "You earned it," he said, flipping burgers at an impressive pace.

  "Do you like working solo?"

  "I like having my own kitchen if that's what you mean. I have Hank, Bob, Mac, and you to talk to if there's a lull in work."

  "What if you have a helper for tomorrow?"

  "You're really going through with the wet t-shirt contest?"

  I nodded. "The signs are posted and this place needs something. Not necessarily a wet t-shirt contest, but something. We might as well start the ball rolling."

  "I guess a helper would come in handy."

  I smiled. "Thank you. I'm sure you'll find her very helpful." . . . I hope.

  He grinned. "Is she cute?"

  "I believe you'd find her cute. Don't you dare hit on her," I warned. "It's Evan's sister. I don't want another fight."

  A growing smile was his only comment.

  "I shouldn't have told you she's Evan's sister."

  "Probably not."

  "You're on your own if you hit on her," I said, standing. "I should help Hank."

  "I almost forgot. There was a man here earlier looking for you. He didn't give his name."

  "Did he leave a message?"

  "No. He left."

  "Brown hair and eyes with a wide nose and pinched lips?" I asked.

  "That sounds like him."

  "Call
the cops if he comes in again." I pushed through the doors and weaved over to T.

  T gave me his signature tight nod as I approached.

  "He was here. Jack said a man came in and asked for me matching Grub's description."

  T's jaw tightened. "I'll call Drier and let him know. You seem to attract dangerous people. Maybe we can stick you in a cell until this blows over," he threatened.

  "Stop kidding around."

  His brow arched.

  "You're not sticking me in a cell!"

  "When do you get off work? I'll take you home."

  "Evan's going to pick me up."

  "You're not riding on his bike. Grub could sideswipe you or run you off the road. He's probably waiting down the road. I'll drive you."

  "To home or a jail cell?" I asked to clarify.

  "Home." As I retreated, he added, "For now."

  I sent a quick text to Evan telling him I'd meet him at home. I glanced at the other messages. All of them were confirming their help for tomorrow's event. Nothing from Aaron. Even Aaron's ominous messages were better than no messages. I shoved my phone in my pocket.

  T stalked through the house as I waited at the front door. My eyes drifted through the night, wondering if the predator was hiding in a bush. My eyes caught on my car. One of the windows was rolled down. Did I forget to close the window? I cringed. Three months of rain, heat, and homeless critters in my car. I'll look at the damage tomorrow when there's adequate light.

  Evan's bike wasn't in the driveway. I thought for sure he'd be here by now. I checked my messages. Nothing.

  "All clear," T hollered as he bounded downstairs.

  I stepped inside. "I'm going to wash up and head to bed," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow for the contest."

  T locked the door and sank into the couch. "Night."

  "You're staying here?"

  "What part of 'sticking to you like glue' don't you understand?" He kicked off his shoes and wrestled with the decorative pillows as he settled.

  "Okay. Night." I heaved my tired legs upstairs. If he wanted to sleep on my lumpy couch, that’s his business. Without Evan, T's presence would help my peace of mind. I wanted a good night’s sleep for tomorrow's event.

  I gathered my pajamas and wandered to the bathroom, stopping to hear T talk to someone. I quickly realized he was on the phone.