“It's fucking Abbie,” I seethed. “She wasn't taken. She just took off.”
“Took off?” Drew asked. “Why in the fuck would she do that?”
Taking a couple of deep breaths, I tried to calm down and clear my head. When that failed to do anything, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer, twisted the top off and drank half of it. It managed to take a minuscule portion of the edge off. “She said she had something to take care of,” I said, finally able to lower my voice. “Said it was urgent and had to be done.”
Drew whistled low and took a seat at the kitchen table. I walked into the living room and looked out at the parking lot below. I'd send El and Duke to handle things with the cops and firefighters in the parking lot. I figured they were going to have plenty of questions and they weren't going to let me get out of answering them that easily, but I didn't have time to deal with it right then and there. I hoped they'd be satisfied with whatever El and Duke came up with and go on their merry way. I was skeptical, but I hoped.
“Do you believe her?” Drew asked.
I shot him a glare and he raised his hands as if to say he didn't mean anything by it. I took another long swallow of the beer and then walked back into the kitchen.
“All I meant,” Drew clarified, “was do you believe that she was alone in the car and hadn't been taken? Do you believe that she left of her own accord?”
I shrugged and sighed. “I'm pretty sure she was alone. That she left on her own,” I said. “What made her leave and this mysterious errand that came up though – that's what I'm not too sure about.”
“The timing of everything looks really bad,” Drew said. “Our bikes blow up and then she has this mysterious thing come up out of nowhere... ”
I nodded. “Yeah, I thought about that, too. Seems really convenient.”
Finishing off the last of the beer, I set the bottle down on the table, the edge mostly gone. But in its place was a tsunami of worry about Abbie. Even if she had gone off on her own, it didn't mean she wasn't coerced into doing so. Maybe somebody had called and threatened her with something. Maybe they'd threatened me. Who knew? There were a hundred different things they could have threatened her with to get her out of the house. And, apparently, it had worked.
I tensed at the sound of a knocking on the door – which was still standing wide open. “King,” came the voice. “I'm coming in.”
“Shit,” I muttered to myself.
Mahoney, the cop who lived to bust my balls, sauntered into the kitchen, a smug look on his face. He was another complication I didn't have time for. I had no choice, though, but to make time for him – if only to get him off my back.
“Wow,” he said. “Your bike is a mess out there. You seen it yet?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I saw it.”
“Wow,” he repeated. “That has to suck.”
“It does,” I snapped. “What do you want, Mahoney?”
He chuckled and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. Drew got up and put his phone to his ear and stepped out of the room. Mahoney didn't seem to care even though Drew's bike had been blown to shit, too. But, then, it made sense since he'd always saved his biggest hard on for me.
“I just wanted to say sorry about your bike,” he said. “It's one thing if you lay it down on the road. It's something else entirely if somebody straps a bomb to it.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said. “Listen, I have a lot to do, so if you don't mind – ”
“Actually,” he held up a finger, “I do have a couple of questions I need to ask you first.”
I sighed. “Let me help you out,” I said. “I don't know who did it. Don't know why they did it. And I don't quite know what to tell the insurance company yet.”
“Huh,” Mahoney said. “Let me ask a different question, though – think your bike getting blown to hell has anything to do with those hands we were sent?”
I shook my head. “I don't see how one would have anything to do with the other,” I said. “So, no, I don't think they're connected at all.”
Except they were. I knew they were. And one look at Mahoney's face told me he thought they were, too. He just didn't have any evidence to back that up and he was looking at me to slip up and give it to him.
“Who blew up your bike, King?”
I shook my head again. “I have no idea, Mahoney,” I said. “We were all up here when the explosion went off. Didn't see anybody, don't know who did it.”
“Uh huh,” he said. “Pretty convenient, isn't it?”
I gave him a rueful chuckle. “Having the shit blown out of my bike is not convenient, I assure you,” I said.
“You know what I mean,” he snapped.
“Convenient or not, it's the truth.”
“King, you haven't ever told me the truth. About anything,” he said.
“If you had evidence that I'd lied to you, I'd be sitting in a cell right now, wouldn't I?” I snapped back. “So, isn't it possible that because you've never found any evidence of any crime I've committed that maybe I have told you the truth? And that maybe I haven't committed a crime?”
“Scumbags like you are always on the wrong side of the law,” he sneered. “It's only a matter of time before I catch you doing something.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” I said. “Why in the hell do you have such a hard on for me, Mahoney? I've never done shit to you.”
His face was growing red, his expression darker. “I'm sick of scumbags like you getting away with breaking the law. Of hurting innocent people. I'm sick of having trash like you in my town.”
I sighed and felt my own level of anger rising. “Look, Detective,” I said. “I'm the victim here. It was my bike that was blown up. If you have some questions directly related to that, ask away. If you plan on standing there talking shit, get the fuck out. I don't have time for you.”
His grin was predatory. “Going to get exact some revenge, are you?” he asked. “Gonna go make whoever did this pay for it?”
I let out a breath and looked at the ceiling, finding it harder and harder to keep my anger at bay. “Like I told you, I have no idea who did this,” I said, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. “So unless you have something about this case to talk about, it's time for you to go. Or will I need to file a complaint with your supervisor?”
His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. “File all the fuckin' complaints you want,” he hissed. “Nobody takes trash like you seriously anyway.”
“Yeah, thanks for all your hard work,” I said.
“I'm gonna get you, King,” he said, his voice low, menacing.
“And my little dog, too?” I smirked.
“Yeah, you got jokes. Real funny,” he said. “One of these days, I'm going to nail you to the wall.”
“Good luck with that,” I said. “Let me know how that works out for you.”
With one last, glowering look, Mahoney stormed out of the kitchen. I listened to his heavy footsteps as he left the apartment, which was followed by the slamming of the front door. I shook my head and chuckled to myself. Mahoney was somebody who needed a hobby. Badly.
“Nothing like a little bro-time with the good Detective,” Drew said as he walked back into the kitchen and dropped down at the table.
“Tell me about it,” I said. “I'm pretty sure that dude has a crush on me.”
“I could have told you that ages ago,” Drew replied.
“Where'd you go?” I asked.
“Had to make a call,” he said. “I think we may be able to catch a break here.”
“How so?”
“Called a guy I know. Great with computers and shit,” he said. “He might be able to get a fix on Abbie.”
“How is he going to do that?”
Drew shrugged. “I don't know the specifics, but he said he can use her phone to track her and get a location.”
I felt a sudden bloom of hope in my chest. If the Incas had coerced her into going to wherever they were, we potentially had a way to find h
er – I wanted to give in to the hope surging through me, but, at the same time, I was afraid to. These pigs were ruthless. Brutal. Part of me was afraid that even if we did get a location on her, it was going to be too late. But we had to try. We had to do something.
“How can we make this happen?” I asked. “What do we need to do? Go to him?”
Drew shook his head. “He's on his way here. Should be here in just a few.”
“Man, thank you,” I said. “If we – ”
“Don't thank me yet,” he said. “Let's just see what he can do first. If we find her and she's okay, you can buy me a beer then.”
I nodded and a brief smile touched my lips. “I'll buy you two.”
***
“It's pretty easy,” he said.
We were sitting around the kitchen table with Drew's friend Oliver who was staring intently at his laptop. He wasn't the typical computer geek I'd been expecting. He was tall, well-built, well dressed, and judging by his athletic physique, obviously took good care of himself. Put a leather jacket and a few patches on him and he could have passed for one of us.
“What?” Oliver asked me. “Why are you staring at me?”
I chuckled softly. “Sorry, I didn't mean to. I guess when Drew said he was bringing in a computer geek, I was expecting – ”
Oliver smiled. “A fat kid with a face full of pimples wearing a Star Wars t-shirt?”
I looked away and grinned. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“I was that guy a while back,” he admitted. “But I decided I didn't want to be a stereotype anymore. Learned the joys of working out, nice things, and nice clothes. Fortunately, I have a job that pays me enough to indulge me.”
“Good for you, man. I'm glad you're doing so well for yourself,” I said. “That's pretty awesome.”
He looked back at his computer screen, his face coloring slightly. He obviously still wasn't comfortable with – or maybe just wasn't used to – compliments. I guess some things never change no matter how successful you are. The thing that impressed me the most, though, was that Oliver seemed happy – happy in his own skin and happy in what he was doing. He seemed satisfied. Content. It was something I yearned for – and one of the main reasons I'd wanted to get out of this life.
“Anyway,” Oliver said. “I'm going to need her number.”
I gave him the number and watched him go to work. He never took his eyes off the screen, but talked us through what he was doing as he worked.
“See, the cops have a program just like this,” he said. “They can usually track numbers to within a half mile or so. I took that program and refined it. Made it better. My program – though not exactly legal – is a better version of what the cops have. As long as her phone is on, I can tell you where she is within a few feet.”
“Good to hear,” I said.
He punched in a few more keys and then looked up at me. “She's in the industrial part of town. Her phone is in a warehouse there. I'll text you the exact address.”
I stood up and put my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Oliver. Seriously, man. I owe you one big time.”
He grinned. “I may take you up on that at some point.”
“Any time, brother.”
Drew and I rushed out of the apartment and down to the parking lot. Most of the wreckage of our bikes had been cleaned up, though small bits of debris and the scorched pavement attested to what had happened there.
A few more of my guys had gathered and were waiting for instructions. I was glad to see they'd brought along extra bikes from the garage for Drew and me. Most of them wanted to ride in with guns blazing and take the Incas out. It was an urge I understood, but they already knew my position on the subject.
“Okay look,” I said. “We got a location on Abbie. Which, we're thinking is a location where we're going to find the Incas. Now, they want us to come blazing in. They want us to have a head up fight. Which tells me they're ready for it – and are probably really well armed. So, we're going to have to watch our asses.”
“So, what's your plan?” asked one of the guys.
I surveyed the group of men in front of me. Good men. All of them. The last thing I wanted was for any of them to be hurt. Or worse. There was no way in hell I was going to sacrifice any one of their lives to give in to the bloodlust coursing through all of our veins. We were going to have our revenge on the Incas, there was no doubt about that. But we were going to be smart about it.
“Listen up,” I said. “Here's what we're going to do... ”
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
ABBIE
Lights flared, illuminating the interior of the warehouse, as I got out of the car. A tall, well-built man with sun-darkened skin, eyes that were blacker than coal, and dark hair, pulled back into a greasy looking ponytail and a thick mustache approached me. A ragged-looking scar ran from his jawline, up the side of his face, and disappeared into his hairline.
“You must be Abbie,” he said, his voice heavily accented. “I've been waiting to meet you.”
I glanced around the warehouse as my heart continued to beat a staccato rhythm in my chest. There were at least two dozen other rough, strong-looking men lounging around – most of them toying with guns and knives.
As if I needed any more reason to be terrified.
“Well, I'm here,” I said. “Now, let Michelle go.”
He smiled, but rather than softening his face, it only made him look scarier. More intimidating. “Afraid I can't do that just yet,” he said. “I need to hold on to the both of you for a little while longer.”
His words sent a bolt of fear through me that not even the sight of guys toying with knives and guns had. Something about the way he spoke and what he said was sinister. And I suddenly had the idea that I wasn't going to get out of this alive.
I wished more than anything in that moment that I'd told King everything. That I'd told him where I was going and what was happening. If somebody could figure out how to handle the situation, he could have. But I'd been so afraid for Michelle that it led me to do something that was looking increasingly stupid. I was alone. And nobody knew where I was.
“What do you want?” I asked, trying to sound a hell of a lot more confident than I felt. “You said if I came, you'd let Michelle go.”
He shook his head. “I never said that. I just said she needed you,” he said. “Turns out, I need you both.”
“Who the hell are you?” I shouted.
Some of the men scattered around the warehouse chuckled and spoke to each other in Spanish. I knew they were talking about me but I didn't understand a word they were saying. But judging by the lascivious way they were looking at me, I wasn't sure I wanted to…
“I am El Segador,” he said. “I lead the Incas.”
I knew who the Incas were thanks to King. Or at least, knew of them. King had given me precious few details about who they were and what they were all about, but I knew enough. They were really bad guys and did really bad things.
And, now, I was their prisoner.
“What do you want from me?” I asked. “Why are you holding my friend?”
He gave me a small smile. “We took your friend to get to you,” he said. “And now we're going to use you to get to your boyfriend.”
“What do you want with King?”
El Segador looked back at his men and that predatory smirk slid across his face again when he looked back at me. “We have some business still to conduct,” he said. “And your man is proving to be a little difficult to work with.”
“Maybe he just doesn't want to work with you,” I said. “Maybe you should find somebody else to be your errand boy.”
He rubbed at the stubble on his jawline. “I like your man, though. He's a man of integrity. A man of his word – ”
“Everything you're not,” I snapped.
El Segador looked at me, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “You don't know me, puta,” his voice was low and menacing. “So you best watch your mouth.”
“Or what?” I sneered. “I know you can't kill me. You do that, you lose all your leverage with King. He'll never do what you want him to do.”
He shrugged. “No, I can't kill you, puta,” he said. “At least, not yet. But I can hurt you. I can hurt you real bad. And that might make your man even more eager to do what I want him to do just to get me to stop.”
A chill ran through me and my heart was beating harder than I think it ever had in my life. I should have known better than to provoke this man. Danger and malice just radiated from him like heat from a fire. But sometimes, I couldn't keep from shooting my mouth off. Even when it was in my best interest to do so.
HANDS OFF MY WOMAN: Padre Knights MC Page 43
