Dirty Mother (The Uncertain Saints MC Book 5)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  It was empty now, achingly so.

  Wolf’s muttered, ‘fuck’ was audible as I heard him slide out of bed.

  Long minutes went by as I waited, and then he came back on the line sounding more awake this time.

  “Locator puts her a couple miles from you. She’s at her brother’s house,” he answered.

  I sighed.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. “Sorry I woke you.”

  He hung up without replying.

  And I started jogging down the street, shirtless and unarmed, making the two-minute drive in an eight-minute jog.

  The lights were blazing at Corey’s house as I turned into the driveway, unsurprised to find it that way.

  I didn’t announce myself, instead I looked in from the window, watching as she cried in the middle of the couch.

  My heart ached for her.

  Not able to stand it anymore, I tapped lightly on the glass, hoping she wouldn’t give me a hard time about coming inside.

  Her head snapped up, and her ravaged, tear-stricken face ripped my heart out.

  “Let me in,” I said softly.

  She got up, wiping her tears as she did, and opened the door without another word.

  Then she ran into my arms, wrapping both around my shoulders and burying her face into my neck.

  “It hurts,” she whispered, devastation shaking her voice.

  I turned my head and placed a kiss on the side of her neck.

  “I know, baby. I wish I could say it gets better, but I’d be lying,” I told her softly.

  “I wish you could take the pain away,” she cried. “God, I want him back so bad.”

  I walked to the couch and sat down gently, wrapping both arms tightly around her back and holding her as she cried.

  And I waited.

  I would wait as long as it took.

  Because she was mine, and I hated to see her cry.

  When the last tear finally slid down my belly, I waited for more to come, but none did.

  My hands lifted to run through her hair and she leaned her head into the caress.

  My fingers sifted through her long blonde hair, over and over.

  The more I did it, the softer she got in my arms until she was giving me all of her weight.

  This was different than all our other embraces.

  This wasn’t about sex.

  This wasn’t about anything but her and the comfort she needed.

  “You didn’t tell me you were married,” she whispered, almost so softly that I didn’t hear it.

  Almost.

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “Aerie. We got married right after I got out of the army.”

  She didn’t stiffen like I expected her to. Instead, she stayed limp in my arms, her face still placed against my neck.

  I felt her breathing, strong and steady, so I continued without her asking.

  “We were friends in high school and wrote to each other while I was in the army. That grew into a relationship. I only had eyes for Aerie, and the same for her with me,” I explained. “She was killed during a robbery at our house.”

  Her gasp had her sitting up and staring at me with shock and pain etched all over her face.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Hanson Coller’s son,” I answered.

  Her eyes widened.

  “Yeah, now you can see why I freaked out the way I did,” I said. “He never got over the fact that his son was killed.”

  “Did you kill him?” she asked softly.

  I nodded.

  “Responded to my wife’s 9-1-1 call,” I answered. “Saw him in the house…and I killed him. But he’d already killed Aerie right before I got there.”

  A lone tear slipped down Freya’s face.

  I caught it with my thumb, wiping it away as if it’d never been.

  “Don’t cry,” I told her roughly. “It’s over.”

  “It’s not over,” she countered. “Otherwise you wouldn’t still be beating yourself up over her death.”

  “How do you know I’ve been doing that?” I challenged, knowing she was right but refusing to tell her so.

  She gave me a look that said she could see straight through me.

  “You’ve told me what your favorite food is. Where you like to go when you need time to think. What your favorite brand of socks are. Who your brother was. All about your sister and her man. All about your niece. If you’d been able to talk about Aerie, you would have,” she explained.

  She had me there, and she was right.

  I would have if I could have.

  I wasn’t sure what exactly had changed, but cleaning out my room and taking everything that reminded me of Aerie out had been a cleansing of sorts.

  I felt, almost, free.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I wish I could tell you that it wasn’t on purpose, but it was. Talking about her hurts. Right here.”

  I pointed to my chest.

  Telling her about that familiar ache that never seemed to go away made her eyes light up with commiseration.

  “That’s what I feel about each and every time I think about Corey,” she said. “I think of something I want to tell him, and I can hardly breathe it hurts so bad.”

  I looked around then, finally allowing myself to see Corey’s things, and my eyes caught a white note on the table.

  Breakfast with F. 0900.

  “It’s my fault,” I said again. “I asked him to take Kitt.”

  She was shaking her head before I’d even finished.

  “He had a secret crush on Kitt,” she said. “That wasn’t his first time taking her. He told me about it. He neglected to tell me he used to take your spare bike out afterwards, but I knew. He could’ve just as easily died on the job, or on his way home from work.”

  I knew that.

  But it didn’t make it any better.

  I still felt guilty over it.

  Kitt did, too.

  “Your sister needs to let it go, too,” Freya sighed. “I had that talk with her tonight.”

  I pulled her to me and hugged her tightly.

  “You ready to go to sleep?” I asked.

  She pushed away from me and looked around, staring at all the things she had brought over in boxes and had yet to go through, and nodded.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll come back tomorrow. Check out everything.”

  A wet nose touched my hand and I moved to pet Sharpy on the head.

  She licked my hand, and I absently stroked her as I said, “We’ll come tomorrow. I have the day off.”

  She grinned.

  My phone rang in my pocket and I shifted to reach it.

  Freya got off my lap, giving me easier access, and I answered before pressing the phone against my ear.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Deputy Walker, this is Agent Fork,” the FBI agent that’d shown up earlier in the day, no nonsense in his voice at all. “I need to get you to meet me down at the office.”

  I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

  “Why?” I asked.

  He didn’t pull any punches.

  “The establishment that you visited, Daisy’s Tattoo Parlor, was broken into last night. The woman that owns it, Daisy Mendes, was killed. We need you to meet us down here and answer some questions.”

  “Fuck,” I said. “Can you give me thirty minutes? I’m not at home, I’m down the street with my woman.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Can you bring her too? That’ll save us from having to bring her in without you.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  Looking over at Freya, I knew she was about to hear something she wouldn’t want to hear.

  “Fine,” I said. “We’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  Freya’s head snapped up, and her brows furrowed in question.

  I held up my hand at her, halting her questions.

  “That’s fine,” Agent Fork agree
d. “See you soon.”

  Then he was gone, and I was left explaining that a woman that Freya had liked had been killed, and we were supposed to go answer questions about it.

  Chapter 19

  I’m ready to settle down and suck the same cock for the rest of my life.

  -Freya to Hanson Coller

  Ridley

  “You could’ve told me earlier in the day exactly why you were here. You knew before I left for the night that you’d be calling me,” I growled.

  Freya touched my hand lightly, and I curled my hand around hers tightly.

  Agent Fork shrugged.

  “Being here is twofold,” he explained. “I didn’t know about the tattoo shop owner until you were leaving, and by then I figured I’d give you a couple hours to get some dinner before I brought you back.”

  “Tell me what you know, and I’ll give you the same,” I said, pointing to my desk chair for Freya to take a seat.

  She was justifiably upset, and I couldn’t blame her for the tears that were streaking down her face.

  “Daisy Mendes was found outside her establishment dead, about fifteen hours after you left,” Agent Fork started without preamble. “She was found by one of the tattoo artists that opens the place around one in the afternoon. She was strangled.”

  Freya’s voice squeaked out as she listened to the agent speak, but I had to give her credit, mostly she kept herself in check.

  “Okay,” I said. “That was today?”

  “Yesterday,” the other agent, Caldwater, answered. “It’s 0400 now.”

  I looked at my watch and sighed, then lifted my hand to pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay. So this was yesterday.”

  Both agents nodded.

  “We left the tattoo parlor around two in the morning, then drove back to the hotel to gather Freya’s belongings. She stopped in to say goodbye to her friend, then Michael Prosser drove her car back and she rode with me,” I said. “But you know all this, right?”

  He nodded.

  “And so you have to have a reason for being here if you have alibis on all of us. Who do you think did it?” I asked.

  I had my suspicions.

  I just needed confirmation.

  Both agents exchanged looks, then Agent Fork pulled out a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and unfolded it.

  Placing it on the desk between the two of us, he leaned back and waited.

  “Fucking hell,” I said.

  Freya gasped as the enormity of it all finally hit her.

  “You think Hanson Coller did this?” she asked. “Why?”

  “He was caught on surveillance there after you left,” Agent Coldwater said. “Then again at the hotel about an hour later. He was surveyed in the hallway that housed the room you were previously located in before you checked out.”

  I sensed something else was amiss here, but I didn’t figure it out in time to brace myself for what he said next.

  “He broke into your room first, and when he found it empty, he knocked on the door that belonged to the woman you said goodbye to before you left,” Agent Fork explained evenly.

  “After we followed down the lead at the tattoo parlor, we ran Coller’s bank info and found him checked into the room that was directly above yours. When we reviewed the video feed, we found him trying to find you. When he couldn’t get to you, he went for Kelsey Kincaid in hopes that she could lead him to you,” Agent Fork’s eyes were focused entirely on Freya.

  “Oh God,” Freya whispered. “Is she...is she okay?”

  Agent Fork’s eyes said something different than his words.

  “She’s okay,” he confirmed. “It’ll take a lot to get her back on her feet, but the doctors believe that in time she’ll make a complete recovery.”

  I didn’t believe the words any more than Freya did, proving that she wasn’t nearly the innocent that we all thought she was.

  “Tell me truthfully,” Freya demanded. “Now.”

  Agent Coldwater sighed.

  “She’s going to be okay…eventually. What was done to Kelsey…it wasn’t good. She’s going to need a lot of help. And when I say a lot, I mean therapy. Her body will heal physically, but mentally…what she saw…it was bad.”

  “What exactly happened?” Freya asked carefully. “And where is she so I can go see her?”

  “She’s at a burn center in New Orleans,” he answered her. “She’s going to be there for a while as she goes through the most critical part of the healing process.”

  “How…tell me…what was done to her?” Freya asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.

  “She was burned, repeatedly, over the course of a couple of hours. It was only one arm, but it was enough to cause quite a bit of damage,” Agent Fork answered. “The police arrived at the room, we think, and interrupted him before he was finished; otherwise, he wouldn’t have ever left her alive. Not with all the questions he’d asked her. She was able to give a clear accounting before they sedated her, and the questions she was asked, all of them centered on the two of you.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. “That’s terrible.”

  “Daisy…” I started. “Was the same done to her?”

  Both agents nodded. “Yes.”

  “And you think that he’ll be coming back here…for us.” It was a statement, not a question, meaning that I already knew the answer. I just wanted to know what they were thinking, too.

  “So we’re not being brought upon any charges?” he asked.

  Both agents shook their heads.

  “No,” Agent Fork answered. “All we need from you is your cooperation. We’d like you to go into protective custody until we can find Coller. He’s being linked to well over thirty murders across three states with similar nuances.”

  “So you’re thinking he’s a serial killer?” I asked.

  Agent Coldwater confirmed my suspicions.

  “Did you question the man that he brought into the ER, the one who had his foot chewed on by the alligator?” Freya asked suddenly.

  Both men turned to her.

  “What man?” I asked her softly.

  “The day that you came, two days ago?” she said. “That’s why he was there. He brought in a man who was bitten by an alligator. Both of them were similar in looks now that I think about it.”

  “His brother,” I said, turning to the two agents. “There’s a third brother, one that was a little slow. Everyone always thought he had autism or something, but Hanson kept him secluded at his house about ten minutes from here, directly on the river.”

  “Will you show us the house?” Coldwater asked.

  I nodded.

  “She’s not coming with me, though,” I pointed at Freya. “I’ll have to get some men up here to watch her.”

  “I’ll do it, son,” Sheriff Leslie said as he came into the room.

  Leffron, the other deputy that’d been on the Coller case, followed him.

  “We’ve had a sighting of Coller, and he’s not at his house. He’s at The Uncertain Saints’ clubhouse.”

  Mother. Fucker.

  ***

  Agent Fork and Coldwater, along with Griffin, Wolf, Casten and Mig followed me as I rode my bike down the long winding road that led to the clubhouse.

  Once we’d reached the last turn in the road that led to a long stretch of pavement just before the clubhouse turnoff, I stopped, pulling over and shutting the bike off.

  The others followed suit, and the silence that stood stagnant around us was nearly deafening.

  “Peek is there with his wife, Alison,” I said to the group as a whole. “They were the ones to call it in. Someone pulled up on a boat and started shooting the place up from the river. Peek was the one to recognize Coller.”

  “I don’t understand why he would do this now,” Wolf said with confusion. “He would know, just as well as everyone, that the place is reinforced. He’s trying to lure you there.”


  I shrugged. “Then I’ll let him lure me there.”

  “There’s got to be another reason,” Wolf said with confusion.

  I’d had the same feeling, but Peek was the one to call and tell me that Coller was there. I would trust him to know.

  “I’m going in anyway,” I said, swinging my leg over the bike.

  “You need to stop and think about this,” Wolf said as he tried to stop me.

  I pulled away from him.

  “Let the past go. Think this through. Why would he do this?” Wolf asked again.

  I tugged my arm free of his grip.

  “I’m trying to let the past go. Get the fuck off of me. Either help me or get out of my way.”

  Wolf got out of my way.

  It was the biggest mistake of my life.

  Chapter 20

  I wake up awesome.

  -Coffee Cup

  Freya

  I was doodling my fourth heart on the desk calendar covering nearly all of Ridley’s desktop when a commotion from the other side of the door took my attention away from making Ridley’s desk pretty.

  I heard the Sheriff’s voice, all gruff and guttural, yell out for someone to ‘stop’ and a gunshot sounded.

  The bang of the gun reverberated around the small office I was in, and I stood up, hastily getting out from behind the desk as I reacted on pure instinct.

  Objects in my way didn’t make it conducive for me to run.

  “Freeze!” someone else roared.

  Another gunshot sounded.

  By this time, I had Ridley’s number dialed and the phone ringing before I’d even realized I’d done it.

  “Hello?” Ridley’s tight voice answered, sounding distracted.

  The door slammed open and a shotgun pumped.

  The sound, no matter where you heard it, was always distinct.

  It didn’t matter if it was on the TV, in real life, or on the phone, the sound never strayed from being known instinctively.

  Meaning Ridley knew—without me saying—what was going on. I was in big trouble.

  My whole body froze as I saw the man in the hallway.

  It was Ridley…but the beard wasn’t right.