“Let me try,” Violet said. “My nose is a little more fresh.” She knelt down beside Nathan and lowered her head to the floor. “Hmm … I don’t smell—” Her body went still.
“Violet?”
“Did you scent something?” Nathan asked.
“No, but …” She crawled over to the couch. There was something stuck under one of the feet. Lifting the couch, she picked it up. It was hair. Specifically a bunch of long dark hair with a piece of a bloody scalp stuck to one end.
“What’s that—eww, gross!” Melanie recoiled.
Violet held it up to her nose. There were trace amounts of Joanne’s scent and someone else—the owner of the hair, of course.
“Motherfucker,” Nathan cursed. He grabbed the hair from Violet and sniffed it. “Melanie, can you get a bag for this?” Melanie nodded and ran to the kitchen. “Did you find anything else down there?”
Violet peered under the couch. “Nothing, I’m afraid.”
“Nathan! Violet!”
They looked at each other. Nathan helped her up, and they headed to the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” Nathan asked.
“This!” Melanie held up a small piece of cardboard.
“Huh?” Nathan took it from her fingers. “It’s a matchbook.”
“Yes, but look! It’s for that seedy biker bar just outside of town. The Bitter End. I found it on the floor under the kitchen table.”
Nathan shrugged. “So?”
“I told you!” Melanie exclaimed. “Joanne never goes to bars. And even if she did, it wouldn’t be there. It’s where the Kings of Death hang out.”
“Kings of Death?” Violet echoed.
“Yeah, they’re a notorious biker gang,” Nathan said. “They keep out of Blackstone, but their exploits are known in the area. Gunrunning, drugs, armed robbery, to name a few.”
“See? Joanne would never go to such a place. Whoever took her must have dropped this accidentally.”
“It seems sloppy,” Nathan said.
“But plausible,” Violet added. She took the matchbook from Melanie and sniffed it. “Scent's not the same as the hair, but it’s not Joanne’s either. Could be a second accomplice. We should go to The Bitter End and check it out.”
“Check it out?” Nathan asked in an incredulous voice. “Are you insane?”
“We can’t waste any more time,” Violet said. She would not make the same mistake twice.
“No,” Nathan said. “We are not going to that biker bar. We’re going to go to the police and—”
“The police won’t help us,” cried Melanie. “They don’t care about her.”
Nathan crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not taking you there.”
Violet stood toe-to-toe with him. “We don’t need your help or your permission. Melanie and I can go by ourselves.”
“No fucking way,” he said. But the two women stood their ground. He let out a frustrated groan and took his keys from his pocket. “Fine. We’re going, but you two are going to stay in the car while I go in there and gather info.” He grabbed the matchbook from Violet. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Nine
Nathan knew this was a bad idea the moment he walked into The Bitter End and several pair of eyes zeroed in on him. The name of the bar seemed poetic at the moment.
He told himself over and over again it was a bad idea. He should have said fuck it and gunned it to the police station where they could turn over their evidence to the authorities. That was the right thing to do. But, somehow, he knew Melanie was right. The police didn’t care enough to take Joanne’s disappearance seriously in the first place. This evidence might change their mind, but no way were they going to investigate fast enough. Joanne could be in real danger. And Violet’s determination only made him want to find her more.
But walking into a biker bar by himself? That was probably a stupid move. He wasn’t going to let the girls in here, though.
He motioned for the bartender, a sour-faced man with a large potbelly that stuck out of his leather vest, to bring him another beer. It was his second. He had nursed his first, hoping to keep a low profile and scope out the place. Not that it did any good. He looked down at his flannel work shirt and clean jeans. He looked like a Goddamn Eagle Scout next to the lowlifes around him.
The bartender came closer and placed a bottle in front of him. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
No shit, Sherlock. He bit his tongue but knew this was his chance. Bartenders always knew everything that went on in his or her establishment. This would be his in, a way for him to see if the Kings of Death—
A crash from behind had him wincing. “What the—Motherfucker!” He shot to his feet when he saw what had caused the commotion. Or rather who. After tossing a couple of bills on the bar, he strode angrily across the room.
The man who was backed up against the wall was six feet tall and probably two hundred pounds of pure muscle. He was wearing a black leather vest and matching pants, and his arms were covered in tattoos. Around him were broken pieces of furniture, obviously destroyed as he crashed into them. The biker should have looked fierce, but Nathan saw real fear in the man’s eyes as Violet walked up to him and grabbed him by the throat.
“I said tell me where she is,” she said in a deadly calm voice.
“Violet,” Nathan said. “Baby, you gotta let him go.”
Her eyes blazed with pure fury. “It’s him. I can smell him.” Her hand squeezed tighter, and the man’s face began to turn blue.
He leaned in closer. “Fuck.” She was right. That was the scent on the hair. He reached out to push the man’s head to the side. Right on the backside of his head was a healing wound where a chunk of scalp had been pulled out.
“Violet, he’s about to pass out,” he said. “Just … give him a little air so we can talk to him, yeah?”
She loosened her grip, and the man’s face returned to normal. “Where is she?” Violet said. “Where’s Joanne? Where did your gang stash her?”
The man gurgled out an answer that sounded negative, but that only made Violet seem angrier.
“What’s going on here?”
Oh fuck.
Nathan turned around. Nearly a dozen guys in matching leather vests surrounded them, their expressions fierce. One of them stepped forward. Every inch of exposed skin was covered in tattoos, including his shaved head, and a patch over the right side of his vest read “President.”
“Tell me what’s going on. I’m not gonna ask again,” he began.
“Look, we don’t want to cause trouble—”
“You’re not, but she came in here lookin’ for it.” He walked over to Violet, then looked at Nathan. “This your woman?”
Her light eyes glowed. “I most certainly do not belong to anyone, and you may address me directly.”
The president’s eyes narrowed. “You one of those shifters from that town?”
“We are,” she said. For a brief moment, Violet’s eyes turned to slits. That would have scared a lesser man, but the president didn’t even flinch.
“Look, we don’t go into your town, so I was hoping you’d do us the courtesy of not encroaching in our territory,” he said. “What’s your beef with Ruiz? Did he crash your knitting club or somethin’?” His men jeered and chuckled.
Nathan raised both his hands. “Like I said, we don’t want any trouble—”
“He kidnapped my friend’s sister,” Violet interrupted. “We have proof. Now, tell us where you’re hiding her or we’ll go to the police.”
The president laughed, then turned back to his men. “This chick sure is crazy,” he cackled and the other men began to laugh as well.
“We know you have her,” Violet said. “Where is she?” She gripped Ruiz’s throat tighter, making the man choke again.
The president held his hand up and the room went silent. “Listen here, girly. First of all, I don’t know what you’re talking about. We do a lot of things that aren’t exactly legal, b
ut kidnapping innocent girls ain’t one of them. In fact, I’ve made it a rule in my club that hurting women and children is the one line we won’t cross. Now,” he looked at Ruiz, “if what you say is true, then he’s broken our biggest rule, which means he answers to us.”
“It is true,” Nathan said. “Like she said, we have proof.”
“What proof?”
Nathan took out the plastic bag from his pocket. “Here. This is your guy’s hair, pulled right from his scalp. We found it in the living room of our missing friend. She’s a shifter too, and she’s strong enough to do that kind of damage.”
“Yeah? What if they were just having a bit of rough fun and she got a little too excited?”
“Prez,” one of the guys from behind stepped forward. “Ruiz told us his hair got caught in brake rod of his hog while he was fixin’ it.”
“Yeah,” someone else added. “You know if some chick he was bangin’ did that, he woulda made sure we all knew.”
Nathan saw a flicker of doubt in the president’s face. He took out the matchbook. “We found this in her kitchen, kicked under the table. This is how we got here. You know about us shifters, right? We can smell real good and someone else left a clue.”
“So?”
“We picked up another scent from this.” Nathan nodded to the rest of the men. “So, you might have a second rule-breaker in your gang.”
The president’s eyes turned cold. “All right then. Show me what you got.”
Nathan walked toward the group of men. Thank God his nose was sensitive enough so he didn’t have to get too close. Cautiously, he approached the first one, a tall skinny guy with thinning hair and took a sniff. No. The white-haired man next to him was another negative. As neared the third one, a young man with spiked hair, alarm bells went off in his head and he smelled the same trace scent from the matchbook. He looked the kid straight in the eye. “You got anything to say?”
The young man’s eyes widened in surprise, and Nathan could smell the fear coming off him. “N-n-no!”
“You sure?”
“I—” He shoved at Nathan and then tried to get past him. But, with his quick reflexes, Nathan grabbed the kid by his vest collar and slammed him on the ground.
“Motherfucker! Ellis!” The president knelt down and picked him up. “You son of a bitch!” He looked back at Ruiz. “You two been moonlightin’ on me?”
Violet let go of Ruiz, and he collapsed to his knees. “Asshole rat,” he choked at Ellis, his meaty hands rubbing at his throat.
“I-I-I’m sorry, Prez,” Ellis cried. “I was just … he said it was easy money. Those girls … we didn’t hurt them or nothing. Just delivered them.”
“Girls?” Violet’s voice had the fury of an avenging angel. “There were more?”
“J-j-just one more,” Ellis said. “He said no one was gonna find out. Not even you, Prez.”
“Take these pieces of shit away,” Prez said. Four men came forward and dragged Ellis and Ruiz away and disappeared into a door in the back of the bar.
“Hey!” Violet said in an indignant tone. “What about my friend? We need to question your men! Bring them back and—”
Prez laughed in her face. “Question them? Sure, if there’s anything left of them by the time we’re done.”
“But you can’t—”
“Let’s go.” Nathan grabbed Violet by the elbow. He could see Prez growing agitated. He could probably take two or three of the men at a time, but if they were packing heat, which they probably were, that could slow him down even in wolf form.
“But—”
“Violet, let’s go!” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her across the room, ignoring her protests. When they were outside of The Bitter End, she pulled away from him.
“How could you just let them get away?” Violet accused. “We still have to talk to them!”
“Violet, there was no way those men were going to let us interrogate their members. These clubs have strict codes of conduct, and they deal with problems internally.”
“Are they going to kill those two men?”
“I don’t think so,” Nathan said. “They broke a rule, so I’m sure they’ll be punished or expelled. But we need to get help if we want to find Joanne and any other girls.”
Violet seemed to calm down. “Are we going to the police?”
Nathan shook his head. “No, they won’t be any help. But I know someone who can help us.”
They explained what happened to Melanie, who had been waiting in her car in the parking lot.
“What do we do now?” she asked, her lower lip trembling.
“We’re gonna head back to Blackstone and talk to the Lennoxes. They can help.”
“We’ll find her,” Violet said.
“Keep me informed and please call me for anything,” Melanie said. “I’ll be taking a few days off from work to hand out flyers. I also … need to tell my mom.”
“Good luck,” Nathan said. “We’ll call you if anything comes up.”
As soon as Melanie’s car was gone, Nathan and Violet walked back to his car.
“I know the Lennoxes consider themselves the protectors of the shifters of Blackstone,” Violet said as they drove back. “But why would Matthew or Jason Lennox bother themselves with one missing shifter?”
Nathan looked straight ahead at the dark highway. “We’re not going to ask for help from Matthew or Jason.”
“Then who?”
“I can’t tell you yet. But trust me.”
The ride back was silent, and Nathan was glad Violet didn’t ask him anymore questions. It would be difficult enough to explain what they were doing, let alone tell Violet about how he was going to help find Joanne.
He drove to the newer development on the south side of Blackstone. The town had expanded a lot over the years, but the Main Street area was preserved because of its quaint small-town charm that tourists loved. The Lennox Corporation developed South Blackstone as a trendy and hip neighborhood to attract younger people to come and work and live in the town. He pulled into the group of low-rise loft buildings and eased his car into an empty parking spot.
Nathan led Violet into the first building, pressing the button for the top floor. Each floor only had one apartment, so he rang the bell of the lone door outside the elevator.
“Nathan? Dr. Robichaux?” Jason Lennox stood in the doorway, a perplexed look on his face. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Where's Christina?”
“She’s kinda busy right now,” Jason said. “What’s this about?”
“We need her help. Specifically, The Agency’s help.”
Jason’s gaze flickered at Violet. “You know you can’t just say that out loud, man.”
“This is an emergency.”
His friend let out a sigh. “Well, we actually were going to sit down and work on a few things. There’s someone else here, too.”
Jason opened the door to reveal his adopted brother, Luke Lennox, sitting on the couch. “Luke?” Nathan said.
Luke nodded his head at him. “Nathan.” His gaze landed briefly on Violet, but he didn’t say anything.
“Come on in,” Jason said. Nathan entered first, followed by Violet. “Luke, this is Dr. Violet Robichaux. She’s replacing Dr. Philipps at the mines.”
“Temporarily,” Violet added. “How do you do?”
Luke raised a blond brow at her. “Temporarily?”
“It’s a long story,” she sighed, then turned to Nathan. “I still don’t understand what we’re doing here.”
“Jason,” Nathan began. “We really have to talk to Christina.”
“She’s in her office on a conference call with her father. He’s in Fiji. Or Indonesia, I forget. Anyway, we were going to discuss, uh, business with Luke. He’s eager to get on with his night, so why don’t we go in and interrupt her?”
The four of them walked down the hallway off the living room of the loft. Jason opened the last door on the right and ushered the
m inside.
“Really, Papa?” Christina Lennox sat behind the desk, staring at a computer screen. She was wearing a headset and when she saw them walk in, she waved them to come over. “All right then. If you’re sure he’s the one you want to send. You really can’t spare Angel? Fine. I’ll settle for Petros.” She laughed. “No, I don’t have a problem with him. But, well you know how he is. I don’t see him meshing well with the people here, but I’ll trust your judgement. All right. Love you Papa; say hi to Cordy.” She waved at the screen, then put her headset down.
“We have more visitors,” Jason said.
Christina stood up and walked around the desk. Despite the late hour, she was dressed elegantly in a white blouse, black trousers, and stiletto-heeled shoes. “Violet! How nice to see you again.”
“Same here,” she said.
“So is this a social visit? I’m afraid we have a meeting but—”
“Christina, we need your help,” Nathan interrupted. He hated to be rude, but he didn’t want to waste her time either. “Rather, The Agency’s help.”
“Nathan,” Christina hissed. “You know you can't say anything about that to just anyone!” She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “No offense, Violet. But tell me, how am I supposed to run a secret shifter protection agency when no one can keep it a secret?”
“She’s my mate,” Nathan blurted out. “So she’s not just anyone.” Well, that was it. The cat was out of the bag.
“Your mate?” Jason looked back and forth between Nathan and Violet. “Congrats, man!” He grabbed Nathan’s hand and slapped him on the shoulder. Luke said nothing as usual and stood there, arms crossed at his chest, his tawny gold eyes observing what was happening.
“Er …” He waited for Violet to deny it, but to his surprise she didn’t say anything.
“Oh my Lord!” Christina hopped over to Violet and drew her into a hug. “That’s wonderful! Tell me, have you experienced the bond yet?”
Violet stood stiffly in Christina’s hug. “Well, actually—”
“Never mind. That’s a personal question! But—”
“Please, Christina,” Nathan said. “We really do need The Agency’s help. There's a missing shifter, and she might be in danger. We have to help her.”
The Blackstone Wolf: Blackstone Mountain Book 4 Page 7
