by Alyssa Breck
She started to walk toward him when he looked up and moved his head in a “what’s up” motion. He pushed off the bar and took two strides to meet her with open arms. She gave him a quick hug.
“What’s happening, man?” she asked.
“Same shit, you know.” He angled her toward a booth in the rear of the bar. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“A Coke would be great.”
He set his stainless steel travel mug on the table. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
She watched him swagger back toward the bar. His shoulders were wide and hips narrow. The leather Knights of War vest hung over his back. With his smarts, he easily could’ve gone into law enforcement, but his priorities were different than hers. Despite his association with an outlaw motorcycle gang, Hem was a good guy. He still held true the code of conduct they’d both been indoctrinated into in the Army. Hem had honor. There was no other way she’d tell him what she was about to tell him.
A few of the men in the bar stared at her, and she avoided making prolonged eye contact. She wasn’t interested in being approached. There were a few other women in the bar. Let them wager the prospects.
Hem slid a glass in front of her. Two cherry stems stuck out of the top of the drink.
“I got you a Roy Rogers.”
She laughed and used the straw to swirl the liquid. “You remembered.”
He perched onto the bench across from her. “Of course, I did. You were the only one who didn’t drink when we left the base on the weekends.”
She took a pull on the straw, and the bubbly, sweet taste of Coke and grenadine slid down her throat. So yummy. “Mmm. This is good.”
Hem’s smile faltered. “Are you okay?”
Calliope nodded. “Yeah. I just … I came across something while cracking a hard drive on a pedo’s computer. I thought you might be able to help me.”
His eyes got big. “Please, don’t tell me one of my guys is involved in some kiddie porn shit. I’ll kill the fucker myself.”
“Not exactly. But …”
“But what?”
She leaned over the table and kept her voice low. “This has to do with the cartel. I think I stumbled onto a human trafficking ring. While I was reviewing some really sick shit, I saw a vest hanging on a chair. A vest that looks like one of yours.”
“What’s the context? Did you see a person?”
“No. I only saw a Hispanic male dragging a girl into the room. It’s a sweeping shot in a video that I spotted the vest. I don’t know if the guy was even there.” She pointed to the patches on the front of Hem’s vest. “I only saw the back, so no identifying marks like what position they are in the club. You guys have any Hispanics in your ranks?”
“Ryker is half Mexican, but I’d personally vouch for him. He’s a good dude. This is most likely cartel shit. Not even necessarily Mexican. They don’t run the entire show south of the border. I don’t have to tell you that or how dangerous the cartels are. Who else knows about this video?”
“Nobody else yet. It was handed over to me from sex crimes. I work computer crimes, so they asked me to uncover all the shit this fucker had hidden on his hard drive. I’m only in about a quarter of the way, so I might find more info. But I really just wanted to give you a head’s up and ask if there’s anyone you might look at, off the record, that might be good for this.”
Hem shook his head. “Our charter doesn’t have any kiddie diddlers that I know of or would even suspect.”
“Nobody on the registry?”
“Nah. We had one guy who had to be reminded that no means no, but he’s gone now.”
“Gone?”
“He’s dead.”
The finality of the way Hem said that told her that she shouldn’t ask him what happened, so she just nodded in acknowledgment.
“Was it a kid in the video?”
“I haven’t identified her, but she’s young. I’d guess between fourteen and sixteen years old.”
“Can we institute the death penalty for these bastards? They serve no purpose in society.”
“I wouldn’t mind them all being erased.”
“The other thing … this is a white kid.”
“So, not someone smuggled over the border.”
“Not likely. She spoke perfect English.”
“What happens now?”
Calliope swirled the straw in her glass. “Once it gets turned back over to sex crimes, they’ll open up a bigger investigation and likely bring in the FBI. They’ll probably use this low-hanging fruit they have in custody to try to find out who the bigger fish are. And when they see that vest, heat will come down on you guys.”
“For sure.”
“I thought I’d ask you if you could point me toward a particular person rather than the whole club coming under scrutiny.”
“How much time do I have to try to narrow this down?” he asked.
“I can hold them off for a few days. This isn’t an urgent case. I mean, not that they know of. I know that there’s a child who’s probably still in danger, so I can’t just sit on that indefinitely. I’m going to run her face through our facial recognition system to try to identify her, and maybe we can find her. But I can do that on the down-low for now.”
“Can’t you run the guy through that system?”
“There’s no clear shot of his face. He’s a deviant but not a complete idiot, it seems.”
Hem licked his lips. “Why did you bring this to me and not just let it play out?”
Calliope leaned back against the vinyl back of the booth. “What kind of question is that?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “You don’t owe me anything, you know that, right?”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she took a deep breath. “I know.” She looked him in the eye and held out her fist. He pushed his fist against hers. “We don’t talk as much as before, but I’ll never forget.”
“Never forget,” Hem echoed. “Can you show me a still image of the vest?”
“Yeah. I don’t have it on me. I don’t want any of that on my phone. Too dangerous. Do you have a secure email I can send it to?”
Hem raised an eyebrow. “Really? Do you know who you’re talking to right now?”
“Point taken.” Calliope pulled out a small spiral notebook from her shoulder bag. She pushed it across the table with the gold-plated Cross pen that had been a gift from her aunt when she graduated from the academy.
Hem scribbled an email address and slid it back. “Are you going back to work tonight?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I need a break. I put in eleven hours today.”
“Hang out for a while then. Socially. No more work talk.”
“Yeah. Okay. So, what’s new with you?”
He downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “Not much.” He spread his arms out, and the muscles in his biceps hardened. “Living the dream.” His smile could stop traffic. But Hem was a by-the-book dude. He didn’t fraternize that she knew of. Of course, they were both out of the military ranks now.
“How about you, Callie? What’s new? Boyfriend? Husband? Or are you still married to the Dallas PD?” He laughed.
“God. How pathetic is that?” She laughed too. “My hot date is a Friday night with a laptop full of kiddie porn. You involved with anyone? Is some jealous biker babe about to pop out of a hallway and square up with me?”
He put his hand on his chest. “Please. If I did, she’d get her ass kicked. But, nah. My lifestyle isn’t really conducive to relationships, you know?”
“I get it. It seems the only guys who want to date me are other cops, and that always turns into a who has a bigger dick contest like they can’t let me just be a woman when we’re off work. Or they want a booty call. Not really my thing, especially if I might have to rub elbows with them the next day in a squad meeting.”
“They’re dumb. You’re smart, hot, and a total badass. It’s their loss, Cal.”
“Thanks. I’ve had to
avoid my married lieutenant, who still thinks women shouldn’t be cops. He grabbed my ass my first week in computer crimes.”
“For real? Dudes still do shit like that?”
“Yeah. It’s okay, though. I tased him.”
Hem choked on his drink and started coughing. “No, you didn’t.”
She laughed. “Yes, I did. And he never did that shit again.”
“I would’ve paid good money to see that.” Hem slid out of the booth. “I’m going to get a refill. Can I get you another? Or maybe something with a little lead this time?”
“I really don’t drink much. What are you having?”
He held up his glass. “This is top-shelf whiskey. Wanna try it?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
“Why don’t you come up and meet some of the guys.”
Calliope hesitated. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Why not? It would actually look better if I introduce you as an old friend because right now you look like a cop in a biker bar.”
“Do I? I look like a cop?”
“Oh, yeah. You’re a little too clean, and your piece is printing against that cardigan.”
“Well, okay, then.” She laughed. “I can see your piece too.”
Hem wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll show you mine later if you show me yours.”
“Still a tease, I see,” she said as she pulled her purse up on her shoulder.
“I’m not much of a tease, actually.” He winked at her.
“Good to know,” she said and followed him as he weaved through a couple of tables and chairs.
A few men wearing the same vest played a game of a pool toward the right side of the bar. There was a makeshift stage at the back of the bar. A shiny silver pole was situated in the middle. Calliope couldn’t imagine stripping down to her panties and dancing on a pole in a bar. She had nothing against strippers, but it wasn’t her cup of tea. It took a different kind of bravery to put yourself out there in that way. While she was confident in her skills and knowledge, she wasn’t so much with her body. The bar wasn’t full yet, but it was still early. The dancers probably came on later, closer to midnight. She pondered hanging around to see the show.
Hem rapped on the bar. “Can you fill me up, man? And pour a second for my lady friend?”
The bartender had a toothy smile and a white hand towel draped over his shoulder. “Sure thing. Is she your lawyer?”
Hem laughed. “What would I need a lawyer for? And she’s an old Army friend.”
The bartender slid a glass toward her. “Thank you for your service, ma’am.”
She nodded. “Thanks.” One whiff of the whiskey had her wondering if she’d made a mistake. It smelled like it would burn a hole in her belly.
Hem picked up his glass and clinked it against hers. “Bottoms up, baby.”
While he drained his glass, Calliope took a small sip and shook her head. “Jesus.”
“That’ll put hair on your chest,” Hem said and laughed.
“Good, then maybe I’ll really be one of the boys.” She turned around and leaned her back against the edge of the bar. Her legs were nestled between two stools. She surveyed the bar. AC/DC was playing through the speakers, and the lights seemed dimmer.
A tall blond guy with tattoos on his neck nodded at her as he leaned on the bar and ordered a shot of tequila. “You another reporter?” he asked.
She had to crane her neck to look up at him. “No, I’m not.”
Hem stepped over. “Maddox, this is an old friend of mine, Calliope.”
“Hem has good taste in women,” he said.
Hem rolled his eyes. “She’s an army vet, dude.”
“Oh, shit.” He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. All vets are welcome here.”
Calliope shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“What are you doing hanging out with this bum?” Maddox hitched his thumb toward Hem.
“I’m a single, liberated woman looking for someone to father my child with no strings attached. They must be of above-average intelligence and appearance. I’m here to discuss terms with Hem.”
Maddox gave a side-eye glance to Hem. “You’re shitting me.”
Calliope laughed. “Yeah, I’m shitting you. We’re just old buddies hanging out and having a drink, talking shop.”
“Phew. I was worried there for a second. But, you know, if you’re looking for a sperm donor, I’m always available for hire.” He laughed, winked, and walked away, patting Hem on the shoulder.
“Maddox is a handful.” Hem laughed.
“I can tell.”
“He’s a good guy, though. Solid. I’ve known him a long time.”
“What about those two playing pool?” she asked quietly.
“Prospects. California and Plato. Neither have their patches yet.”
“California and Plato?”
“Yeah. Plato is the resident book geek and philosopher, and California, well, he’s from California.” Hem shrugged.
Calliope laughed again. “Profound.”
“Always.”
A slow song came on. Something country. Hem grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s dance. Keep up appearances.”
She almost refused, but then he smiled, and her stomach fluttered. Those butterflies had been dormant for a long time. Truth be told, she’d had a thing for him back in the service. She’d chalked it up to that phenomenon when someone saves you, and you fall for them. Hero worship or something. Memories like those were buried deep. That’s where they best remained. But she let him pull her to the open space between the tables and the stripper stage.
She put her left hand on his shoulder, and he clasped her right hand with his and rested his other hand at the small of her back. It had been ages since she’d danced. Being a cop put a damper on her social life. It was just easier to not be involved. But being so close to Hem made her feel like she was missing something and reminded her that her mother kept telling her that her biological clock was ticking. At twenty-six, she still had time to procreate. But her mom had already been married and had Calliope and her sister by that age and was a full-blown, cookie-baking, stay-at-home mom.
Calliope never saw herself that way. If anything, she’d be the mom dragging her badly dressed toddler off to a daycare center while she worked twelve-hour days. She felt that wasn’t the best situation to bring a kid into. Maybe someday, though. Why was she thinking about kids? God, being so close to Hem was making her ovaries explode. She laughed to herself.
“What?” He looked down at her. “What’s funny?”
She shook her head. “Nothing really. I was just thinking about something my mom said. She really wished I’d have just gotten married out of high school like she did. She still thinks I’m a lesbian because I joined the army.”
Hem chuckled. “Is she that old-fashioned?”
“Yeah, she really is. I mean, she’s proud of me, but she’d rather I be traditional like my sister. She’s a kindergarten teacher with a lawyer fiancé. My mom’s dream situation.”
“Hmm. It’s not her life, though.”
“I know, but she has this vision of what she wants for her girls, you know?”
“I get it. I’d want the best for my kids too, but I would also want them to be happy.”
“She does. She just can’t imagine that I’m happy in my life.”
“That’s too bad.”
“What about your family? What dreams does your mom have for you?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t talk to them much. Sometimes, I think they feel abandoned because Kol and I both joined the Army. But it was the only way to get out there. I didn’t want to end up like my dad.”
“What’s so bad about your dad?”
“It seemed like he felt stuck. Stuck on the reservation. Stuck working a job he hated to support kids he didn’t really want. I don’t ever want to resent the people I’m supposed to love.”
“I understand that.”
“I think
my mom would be happy that I’m doing as well as I am.”
“Why don’t you call her? Touch base.”
“I tried to call, but they’ve changed the number.”
“Where are you from again?”
“Idaho.”
“You should go home and check in. Do it for your mom.”
“I’ll think on that.”
“Is it just you and Kol?”
“We have a younger sister.”
“How old is she?”
He looked up at the ceiling as they swayed to the music. “She’s twenty-one now.”
“Surely you’d like to see how she’s doing.”
“Yeah.” Hem stopped talking and pulled her closer to his chest.
Her breath caught when her cheek met his muscular shoulder. She hadn’t intended to pry. Back in their military days, he’d been pretty closed-lip about his family aside from his brother. Calliope didn’t have many friends, and most of them were other cops. It was easy to fall into the trap of being around people who think the same way as you do; people who understood what it’s like to laugh over a dead body or cry in the bathroom after taking a child away from an abusive parent.
Calliope hadn’t been deployed like Hem had, but they had similar backgrounds. They were both disconnected from family. Although he had his club, which was akin to her brothers and sisters in blue. And they were on opposite sides of the law. Ethically, she shouldn’t be in a bar dancing with a guy who might be involved in her investigation, but she relied more on her Army values. Hem was trustworthy. Hem had a strong sense of justice, and he knew right from wrong. And regardless of what he said, Calliope owed him.
Chapter Five
Hem
On his laptop, Hem looked up his email. A text message from Calliope alerted him that she’d sent the picture of the vest and had included a mug shot of their suspect. He didn’t keep this email address on his phone. This one was encrypted with extra security. Since they’d both been in communications, they both had superior knowledge in that department. No one would find her emails or his. The biggest mistakes criminals made with computers was that they didn’t know how to truly delete or scramble a file. The average person didn’t realize that just a standard deletion only moved a file to a different part of the hard drive, it didn’t purge it from the system entirely. Hem knew how to purge.
