Red Hot Bikers, Rock Stars and Bad Boys

by Cassia Leo

  I walk out of the locker room and climb the stairs to look for Slider. He’s on the phone at his desk, and when I walk in, he gestures for me to keep quiet.

  “Yeah sure,” he says and listens attentively to what he’s being told. “If you think that’s what needs to be done, I’m on it.” He looks at me, points two fingers in my direction, and pulls an imaginary trigger. “No, Zach, I insist. It was my mistake to hire him, so I’ll take care of this. I always clean up my own mess. It’s a matter of principle—” He listens again. “Consider it done. Tomorrow, he’ll no longer be a problem. Now what do you want to do about the black chick?”

  I step closer to the desk, trying to hear what Zach is saying to Slider. The man is screaming, but I can’t quite get the words.

  “Well, I’m sure my crew will be happy to take care of her as soon as you find her.”

  My heart skips a beat. Thank God, they don’t have her. She went into hiding. Good girl, she grabbed her stuff and the kid and made it.

  He hangs up. “They know you’re a cop, and they want you dead.”

  I nod. I had gathered that much. “Did you find out how they know?”

  “Nope, I have no clue, but Zach says he knows for sure,” Zach explains.

  “So he’s ordering a hit?”

  “Yeah, man, and it’s gotta be tonight.”

  My mission is over, but that’s not what’s worrying me. “Captain Black will find a way to make it look real.”

  “You know you can’t take Mimi and the kid with you. They have to get into WITSEC.”

  “Right, the only problem is that I have no fucking clue where they are.” I bend over his desk and bark at him, “I trusted you. You were supposed to make sure she was safe.”

  “She didn’t give a chance to protect her. She ran three seconds after you left,” he says, staying remarkably calm. He leans back in his chair. “She left Zach’s keys and belt in the dressing room and ran.”

  “What happened?”

  “One of Zach’s guys was out in the alley with Kitten, and he saw her leave as if the devil was on her heels, so he came back in to see what was up.” Slider runs a hand through his hair. “I followed Zach and his guy upstairs. I never had a chance to clean up or lock up behind her. Mimi had left the door open and incriminating files spread out on the desk.”

  Oh, crap. Mimi couldn’t just get the disk—she had to make sure I wasn’t feeding her some bullshit about how bad these guys are. I drop into one of the chairs across Slider. “What did she see?”

  “Pictures of some high-level politicians with kids… stuff that even makes me want to throw up,” he confesses. “I would shoot those bastards myself with no second thoughts, but that’s not what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna keep on building the case and make sure we bury them so deep in their own shit they’ll never come back up for air.” He gets up and walks around the desk to put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. If she knows what’s good for her, she’s gone back to Haiti and she’s never coming back.”

  I hate that he’s right. The best thing that can happen to her is to get as far away from here as she can. But I’m not only going to miss her; I’m going to miss the kid too.

  Squeezing my shoulder, Slider says, “Come on, pal, I’ve got to kill you and get back here in time to supervise the girls tonight since my bouncer is gonna be AWOL.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask as we leave his office.

  “I’ve got this cabin up north, next to Vero Beach. You’re gonna stay there until Captain Black figures out what to do with you. It’s my hideaway. There’re supplies for a week, and it’s isolated enough that you can actually go outside for a few hours a day. Any family members you wanna call so they can have a warm and fuzzy memory of you before you vanish?”

  I think about it. I wouldn’t know what to say to my mother, and I have no clue whether Lisa’s at work, in her dorm, or in class. I toy with the idea of leaving a message for Brian at his club, but I nix it. There’s nothing I can say that will make them feel better, and sooner or later—I hope sooner—they’re gonna hate me when they find out it’s a hoax.

  “No, I’m good,” I tell him. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  ***

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  I spend the longest weeks of my life in Vero Beach doing almost nothing but getting in great physical shape. I run for an hour on the beach at the crack of dawn and again at sunset. In between, I read police novels, watch television, and go crazy wondering what the hell has happened to Mimi and Toussaint.

  The local news mentions my funeral, and I watch the short footage of the ceremony with utter fascination. It’s taken from afar, but I see my mother and my sister. I think I recognize Tony and Nancy, but I don’t see Brian. Maybe he didn’t feel like attending my forty-five seconds of fame. I can’t blame him—I hate funerals too.

  Having too much time on my hands makes me crazy. There’s only so much time I can spend cleaning up the place, and I wonder how my mother handles it. I don’t mind living in a mess—clutter soothes me—but I can’t let it take over Slider’s place. He’s borderline neurotic about order. So the one thing I have to keep me occupied is cleaning up after myself.

  It’s almost the end of June when Captain Black drives up to see me with her master plan to keep me busy while they take down the entire Wizard network. The first thing she says when she enters is, “I’m sorry, but I have no news of Jeanne-Michelle and Toussaint.” The way she pronounces their names tells me that at least one of her parents must have been Haitian too. She pats my arm in a motherly fashion. “In a way, no news is good news. It means they’re safe.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself, but some days, I’m not so sure. I’m imagining the worst, and I feel responsible,” I confess. “I was the one who asked her to help.”

  “Yes, but she was foolish. She did much more than you asked for and put our entire operation in jeopardy,” the captain says.

  She’s not wrong, but I won’t blame Mimi. We sit at the tiny table, and I pour her a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks, I need that,” she says.

  “Tough week?”

  She nods. “Your isolated hideaway looks like paradise right now.”

  “Well, I’m bored out of my skull here, so whatever you have to offer, I’m game.”

  “Good. You’re leaving at the end of the week for a small town in Canada. I enrolled you in this new one-year exchange program we have with the Canadian police forces.”

  “Canada? Where it snows five months out of the year?” I shudder at the prospect. I’ve always hated cold.

  “Probably six. Where you’re going is way up north, but you could be back before it freezes.” She holds up a hand to prevent any protest. “The man in charge of the program has accepted your enrollment knowing that we will pull you out at any time if the need arises.”

  I mull this over while she drinks her coffee. I look out at the clear blue sky, and when I turn back to face her, she’s squinting. She had that same expression on the day she took over the unit. A sign of stress?

  “Is there something else I need to know?” I ask.

  “Need to know, no, but should know, yes.” She squirms on her chair. “Your mother’s seeing someone.”

  “Seeing someone? As in dating?”

  She nods.

  “Wow.” I shake my head at a loss for words. “Wow… I can’t believe it.”

  “I know it’s kinda sudden,” she says.

  “Not really. I mean, she’s been a widow for almost twenty years.”

  “What I meant is that she hasn’t known him that long,” Captain Black explains. “They met at your funeral.”

  “Anyone I know?” I ask, curiosity eating me up.

  “Yeah…” She squirms again, which I find amusing because it’s totally out of character. Apparently personal stuff is out of her comfort zone. “Captain Williams.”

  “Oh, I see” is all I can come up with. It’s going to take some
time for me to wrap my mind around the idea of my mother dating. How is Lisa taking it? She should be deliriously happy, since it means that Mom is making some progress.

  “They’re already talking about marriage. You’re good with that?” Captain Black’s weariness has turned into something between concern and curiosity.

  “Sure.” I guess when you’re in your fifties, you don’t shoot for a long engagement. I mean, you should already know what you want. “Now tell me, how’s the investigation going?”

  She tells me about some progress they have made by studying the pictures Slider took on the night of the blackout. Some of the files were very interesting. They don’t have enough to get indictments-something about our search warrant could be at issue here-but they have a few new leads to follow.

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and it won’t take a year to close this,” she says without much conviction.

  “What if it does take more than a year?”

  “Then I have another job lined up for you in Tallahassee. We’ll cross that bridge if we ever get to it, which I very much doubt.” She pats my arm. “Can you be ready to leave in three days?”

  “Sure, I don’t have much to pack. I could be ready in an hour.”

  “There are things you need to do first,” she says. “Today, you need to change your hair color and get passport pictures. Either Slider or I will come pick them up tomorrow, and you’ll leave as soon as your passport and driver’s license are ready.”

  After she leaves, I jog to the local drugstore and stop in front of the hair dye. Apparently I had a very simplified vision of hair colors. Up until now—setting aside Halloween—my understanding was that hair was black, brown, red, blond, or white. I was so far off the mark it’s funny. On my way to the store, I had decided I would go brown, but there’s dark brown, chestnut brown, ash brown, and golden brown. I don’t know what to choose, so I pick up a midnight-black bottle instead.

  As I stand in line, one of the store employees comes to restock the postcard stand. All golden beaches and blue ocean, my Florida takes a good picture. Maybe I should buy some to look at when I get nostalgic. I browse through the new inventory, and next to a postcard of Palm Beach Island is one with a view of Point Lookout. The stupid photographer had to take a shot of that horrible tower. Yet it’s perfect—it’s a picture of home. Crap, I need to get a grip. I’m becoming more and more nostalgic.

  ***

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  All travelers stepping out of the airport with me are wrapped in hot and humid air. I welcome it like a familiar blanket. The suffocating heat almost brings tears of joy to my eyes. It’s been about a year, and even though the Canadian weather was becoming tolerable, I’ve never been happier than I was when I was told I could come home. Technically Tallahassee isn’t home, but it’s close enough. I already feel like myself again.

  I take a taxi to the address Captain Black gave me on the phone. It’s a single-family house in a nice part of town. I wonder if I took the address down wrong and ask the driver to wait while I knock on the door. A stunning blonde opens it. I recognize Catherine from the special force unit and know I’m in the right place, so I rush back to pay the taxi and grab my bag.

  “I’m so happy to see you,” she says, squeezing my arm. The woman’s got a strong grip for such a petite figure. “It blew my mind when I found out you weren’t dead.”

  “I bet you say that to all the guys,” I joke.

  Thomas is standing right behind her, and he’s staring at her hand on my arm.

  “When did you find out?”

  She smiles. “Yesterday.”

  “They only told the officers who needed to know, and we became some of the lucky ones yesterday,” Thomas explains.

  “Does Everest know?” I ask, wondering how hard it would have been for him not to tell Brian.

  “I doubt it,” Thomas says looking away.

  “He was kicked out of the team after your funeral. There were ugly rumors about some MC ordering your hit, and the Iron Tornadoes made good suspects.” Catherine frowns. “I never believed for a minute that he sold you out, but part of the brass, possibly the ones not in the need-to-know, decided to push him aside. He’s just a regular cop now.”

  As we speak, Catherine and Thomas lead me toward the back of the house. The huge living room has been turned squad room, but I don’t have enough time to look at the boards in the middle of the living room as we walk through. My mind is on my family and not the case right now anyway.

  “They benched him, and he didn’t quit?” Brian or I would have stormed out and slammed the door. I admire Everest’s patience and determination.

  “Nope, he’s working whatever odd case Captain Williams throws at him.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yes, it sure does,” she says. “Here’s your room. I’ll let you unpack and settle in. We have a big meeting in half an hour.”

  I open my bag and unpack, but it doesn’t take long, since I don’t have much. I swore I would never walk around with a quilt-like coat or furry boots that looked like two dead dogs again, so I left all my cold-weather stuff in the locker room of the police station in Canada. I just need to buy T-shirts, and I’ll be a happy camper. When I’m done, I look for the kitchen, and I find Thomas and Catherine. We share a couple of sandwiches before the rest of the team arrives.

  The team now consists of many other people from the panhandle and some federal agents. No one takes the time to bring me up to speed officially, but I get good grasp of the progress they’ve made when I realize they’re organizing simultaneous raids throughout three states for this coming Monday.

  Captain Black, who is now letting the federal agencies fight over the direction of the operations, sits next to me. “Welcome back, David. You should be home by the July fourth weekend at the latest.”

  I nod and look back at the chief of this three-ring circus. “Why not next week after the raids?”

  “Because they want to prepare interviews with you to distribute to the press during the media frenzy.”

  “As long as I get to speak to my family before my being alive hits the news, I’m your man,” I say, studying her face.

  This last year has been hard on her. She’s still a handsome woman, but the lines around the corners of her eyes are deeper than last year.

  “You okay?” I ask softly while the fed in charge runs through a slide show of who’s who in the Wizards organization.

  “Yeah.” She nods. “I’ll be taking time off when all this madness is over though.”

  “You sure deserve it.”

  “You know, all this media frenzy may turn out to be a good thing,” she says.

  “How so?” I don’t see the point of it—aside from the police department making a big show about how efficient we are in our fight against organized crime.

  “Because no matter where Jeanne-Michelle has been hiding, she’ll know that you’re not dead and that she can come home.”

  I look away to hide how her words impact me.

  Misreading my body language, she says, “I’m sorry. I’m just an old meddling romantic fool. I thought you were in love with her. I should mind my own business. ”

  I touch her arm. “Please don’t apologize for caring. Being attuned to people is what makes you a great cop, Captain. You’re right, I’m still pining away for her and for the boy too.”

  When the meeting ends, I return to my room and stare at the postcard I’ve put on my nightstand. I decide to give Brian a heads up. I grab a pen and, from memory, address the card to him at the Iron Tornadoes club house.

  "Sure feels like I'm still in Florida. It's hot, humid, crowded, and infested with mosquitoes. I expect you to take care of Lisa, and I plan to come back to haunt you soon to check out you’re doing it right. Take care, bro."

  Just as I wonder how I’ll manage to send it if I’m stranded in this house, Catherine knocks on my door to ask if I need anything. She’s going grocery shopping for the house, so I ask h
er if I can tag along.

  “You’re kidding! I’d love company and help carrying the stuff back to the car and all.”

  As we drive away, I notice Thomas frowning by the door. Trouble in paradise?

  “Serves him right,” she mutters, her eyes on the rearview mirror. “That gentleman’s always way too busy to bother with the logistics of the house. I hope he eats his heart out wondering if you’re gonna hit on me.”

  I laugh. “Just ask me, and I’ll flirt away.”

  “Be careful, I may take you up on that one of these days.”

  ***

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  I park my ride in the barn where the Iron Tornadoes store their bikes. I’m surprised no one seems to have paid attention to my arrival. But then who other than someone affiliated with the MC would dare drive in unannounced and know to park there? As I walk around the main building, I realize security isn’t as lax as I thought. An older member is waiting for me.

  “Hey, Brains, long time no see!” I say, holding out my hand.

  “It’s good to see you vertical, man,” he says, shaking my hand and patting my back. “The new prospect came to get me when you rode up.”

  Now I see the kid sitting next to a tree beside the cars that some guests have used to get here.

  “It’s good to be back. Where’s Ice?” I ask, using Brian’s road name.

  “Kinda busy right now.” Brains points toward the building. “I’m sure he’ll come down in a bit, but in the meantime, why don’t you go grab a bite?”

  “I will, but I’m looking for my mother and my sister. I was told they were here.”

  When I spoke with Captain Williams last night, he told me he and my mother had agreed to attend the Iron Tornadoes’ barbecue with Lisa, and that was where I’d find them if I got to Point Lookout in the afternoon. Lisa and Mom both know I’m coming. They just don’t know when.