by Mia Malone
“Don’t worry, Desiree. She’s probably sad after leaving you and doesn’t want you to hear that. I’ll call her, tell her to call you back.”
“Okay.”
There it was, that small voice again.
“Talk to you in a bit, sweetheart.”
They closed the call, and he called Cas. She didn’t answer so he left a message and sent a text message with the simple instruction, “Call me. Now.”
Shit.
“Son?”
“Something isn’t right,” Black said and tried to figure out why he suddenly felt on edge. “Cas would never ever field a call from her daughter. Everyone else in the world, hell yes, and that includes me. Desi. No way.”
He inhaled deeply and winced when a tingle went down his spine.
“Fucking shit. You smell it too,” Roddy murmured.
“Yeah. I’ll –”
His phone buzzed again, and he stared down on it.
Mac Mackenzie?
Why the hell would he call? Mac was the Chief of Police in the town where his sister lived, and they knew each other, but they weren’t friends in a way they called each other to chat about shit.
Fucking hell.
It couldn’t be good news.
“Yeah,” Black said.
“Bad news,” Mac said in his calm, deep voice. “Sheriff White made a deal, you know that. Part of the deal was that he’d get transferred out of state. He would have been killed in any prison in New Mexico, so they gave him that, but the place they put him in didn’t work out. They were moving him again, but he had someone on the outside and got away.”
“Ah, hell. When?”
“The fuck of it is that it was three days ago.”
Black stared straight ahead, and his belly churned.
“We can’t reach Cassandra,” he said hoarsely. “She left Portland by car this morning, and she doesn’t pick up her damned phone. Why the hell didn’t anyone fucking tell us?”
“C-Springs PD were informed because that’s where she lives, Black, and they tried calling her. She didn’t pick up, don’t know why they didn’t call her cell, but her tenants said to call her ex. They did, and his wife answered. I talked to a buddy of mine down in Denver about something else twenty minutes ago, he mentioned it in passing, so I called and ripped her damned ex a new one. Their damned kids have a cold or whatever the heck and the wife said she forgot. Didn’t think it was important.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m gonna kill them if something is wrong with Cas.”
“Yeah. Keep calling her, we’ll work from our end.”
“Ye – Hold, Mac. Ice wants to –”
The churn in his gut blew into tiny shards of ice running through his veins when he saw his brother’s face.
“Black, Bodean just called. They’ve found Cas’ car at a gas station south of Spokane. She’s not in it.”
***
Cassandra
I was singing along with Bruce Springsteen and smiling widely even though the lyrics were kind of sad.
I’d had a couple of fantastic days with my daughter in her new home, and it had been a little like before when it had been just her and me, but also different. She was off on her own now, to live her life. I’d done my job, and I’d always be there for her, but she was an adult. Or, at least, a young adult.
I held her in my arms before I left, and she leaned her head on my shoulder like she had so many times before.
“Love you, Mom,” she murmured.
“Love you, Desiree,” I said and swallowed around the lump in my throat.
“I’ll visit in a few weeks.”
“Okay.”
“Um, just where will I visit you?”
“Rogan.” I swallowed again and added, “I think.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes, Desi. I really, really love him.”
She looked away and I nudged her cheek with the back of my hand to get her to look at me.
“What?” I asked.
“I worried, Mom.”
“About Black?”
“No,” she protested. “About you. About... you know? Me moving away and you being there, next to Dad and the others. I worried that it would be weird and even more about you being alone.”
“Oh, baby,” I murmured.
I’d worried too and had planned to move somewhere else or pick up a hobby or something but hadn’t wanted to tell her.
“Black makes you happy and you won’t be alone, so he makes me happy too,” she said with a grin.
“I don’t know what we’ll...”
I trailed off and felt awkward. I hadn’t dated much and hadn’t been prepared to talk about Black with Desi.
“Do you love him?” she asked again.
“Yeah,” I said quietly.
She smiled, and said calmly, “Then I’ll visit you in Rogan.”
God, I thought. My daughter really was growing up.
Then we hugged again, and she nudged me toward the car so I got in and drove off.
I stopped to pick up a sandwich but ate it in the car as the miles rolled by.
I was going home.
And I loved him.
I’d tell him when I got back because I had to. It was too big. Too... I couldn’t hold it back and wanted to call him, but since I only had a few more hours to go, I decided to stop and pick up some coffee, and then push on.
I didn’t notice the red car turning off the highway right after me, or how it followed me into the parking lot because I was singing along with Bruce Springsteen and I was smiling.
He came from nowhere when I passed his car, and my arm was suddenly yanked to the side. Then I was shoved into the trunk, the hatch was slammed shut above me, and I heard the car start up.
It had taken less than a minute, and I started screaming but felt how the car moved.
What the hell had just happened?
Someone had kidnapped me, but who the hell would do something like that at a gas station in a small town in the middle of nowhere?
I stopped screaming and tried to feel my way around, but the trunk was empty. I’d had my tote bag over my shoulder, and it had fallen off when he shoved me. If he’d left it there, someone would find it, and they’d start looking for me. They’d call Black. And, dear God. They’d call Desi.
She would be so worried.
After what felt like an eternity, the car stopped, and the hatch was torn open. It took a while for my eyes to adjust and then I stopped breathing.
Sheriff White stood there, sneering down on me. I’d met him when I dropped off Desi, had seen him again when we escaped from the library, and I’d seen pictures from his arrest, so I recognized him, but he looked different. His clothes were slightly too tight as if they weren’t his, and he looked gray in the face.
“How –”
He slapped me over the mouth and pulled my arms up and together to put a cable tie around them.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he hissed. “I got away. Was going to get across the border and disappear but I couldn’t do it. Those fucking bikers took everything away from me, so I had to settle the score with them first.”
“What?”
I got another slap and retched when I felt the taste of blood in my mouth.
“Told you to shut up,” he grunted, pulled me out of the trunk, and toward a house.
A few minutes later, he had kicked in the back door and shoved me into a big kitchen. I glanced at the door and wondered if someone would come home, and what he’d do to them.
He saw my glance and pushed me down on a chair.
“Weekend place, so no one is coming to help if that’s what you think. We’ll anyway just stay here while you make some calls, then we’re moving on.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“The border.”
“I have no passport,” I said, and he grinned the meanest grin I’d ever seen in my life.
Something flashed in his eyes, and I had to clamp my jaws togeth
er to keep myself from screaming. He was evil. There was no goodness or anything that even looked remotely human in his eyes, and I didn’t know if he’d been like that before and just hidden it, or if getting caught had pushed him over the edge.
“You won’t need one.”
He reached into his back pocket, and I braced, but he pulled out a phone.
“You want me to call someone?” I asked.
“If you and your daughter won’t testify then I won’t go to prison. I’m gonna go away while my lawyer sorts shit out. He says that without you the computer means nothing. Says the police need the two of you and if you back off then we can go to trial and get everything thrown out.”
I blinked and wondered what kind of shitty lawyer the idiot had. I had absolutely nothing to do with the case, and Desi had already given her statement.
“What?” I breathed out and got a shove which almost pushed me off the chair.
“I’ll say someone else used my computer. You’ll call your lawyer.”
He held the phone out toward me, and I wondered if he was that stupid. He made an impatient sound, and I fumbled with the phone. My hands were tied together, so it was difficult, but after a few shaky attempts, I’d managed to punch Black’s number in and held the phone to my ear.
“Yeah?”
“Hello,” I said politely. “Can I talk to Mr. Brown, please? It’s an emergency.”
“Jesus. Baby, putting you on the loudspeaker. Is it the Sheriff?”
“Yes,” I said and felt how my whole body tightened with the need to cry when I heard his voice. “Yes, I’ll hold,” I added, and mouthed, “Waiting,” toward the hard-faced man in front of me.
“Do you know where you are?” Black asked calmly.
“Hello? Yes, I would like to know what the process is for me to take back my statements in the case against Sheriff White.”
“Is he there?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“No,” I glanced out the window and tried to find something, anything that I could share that would lead him to us. Then I added, “No, I will not testify.”
Without warning, the phone was ripped from my hand.
“You didn’t even say your name, bitch, and I saw that fucking glance.” Sheriff White stared at the screen, and his face darkened. “This is not a Colorado number.”
He calmly raised his foot and kicked me in the ribs. The chair moved backward, and I couldn’t hold back a scream from the pain.
“Fucking bitch,” he hissed hoarsely and raised the phone. “Is that you, Black Hagen? I’ll kill your woman... after I’ve had some fun with her. And you get to listen.”
He kicked me again, and I whimpered.
“He drives a red Toyota,” I called out. “I’m in a blue house. He’s taking me toward the border, but –”
Then I stopped speaking because the Sheriff had pulled out a gun.
“No!” I shouted and tried to scoot backward.
The first shot missed me, but the second made my chest and shoulder burn with pain. The chair tilted, and while I fell helplessly backward, I kicked out with my legs.
I hit the phone with one of my feet when I went down, and he dropped it. I crashed into the floor just before the phone did, and I heard screams coming from it.
Then the screen shattered and turned black.
Chapter Fourteen
Good girl
Black
He stared at the phone as silence filled the room and tried to find a way to get air into his lungs through a throat that felt too tight. There was pressure around his chest, and he closed his eyes briefly.
No one said a word, but he heard his mother’s ragged breaths and how his father moved to put an arm around her. His legs felt weak suddenly and he wanted to fall down to his knees and bury his face in his hands, but he couldn’t. His brother’s strong arm around his ribs held him up, and the sound of her voice from that morning washed over him.
“I’m so glad I met you, Einar.”
Whatever happened, he was glad he’d met her too. And whatever happened, he’d do what needed to be done, for her, and for the girl he knew meant more to her than her life.
“Right,” he said. “We will find her. Desiree deserves a funeral, and that man deserves to die. So, we have work to do.” He sucked in air, forced himself to focus and felt Ice remove his arm.
“Steady?”
“Yeah,” Black murmured and tried to think through the shards of pain that pierced through his whole being. “Brooks. Call the police and find out exactly where they found her car. Ice, use whatever resources you need to see if you can get a lock on her phone.” He thought some more, and added, “Dad. I’m gonna need you to –”
He cut himself off because he couldn’t say the words. Couldn’t tell his father that he would have to go and tell an eighteen-year-old girl that her world was destroyed.
“I need a minute,” he said hoarsely.
He didn’t stop until he was in his bedroom, behind two closed doors and in a space that was his. As he sat down on the bed and leaned his head in his hands, the enormity of what he’d just heard caught up with him, and he sobbed once.
Cas had been in that bed a few mornings ago, just before she left. He’d thought about telling her that he loved her but had held back because it was too soon. And now it was too late.
“Shit,” he rasped out and turned to the side to grab her pillow.
It would still be there, trails of that fucking girly shampoo which smelled like wildflowers. Her perfume. The scent of her.
Then he stopped to stare at the bedside table, at first not sure what it was about it that bothered him. Then he realized that drawer was open a few inches, and he pulled it all the way out.
Slowly he inhaled through a throat that suddenly had unclogged. Everything snapped into focus, and he could feel the pulse beating in his ears while he stared down on the empty drawer.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Oh, Cassandra, my good girl.”
He barged into the bar where people had gathered in groups. A stony-faced Ronnie was wiping her cheeks and Ice was staring out the window. Brooks had his phone to his ear but swung around when the door slammed into the wall.
“You got Bodean on the line?” Black barked, and when Brooks nodded, he stretched a hand out to get the phone. “Was her purse in the car?” he grunted into it.
“We found her overnight bag and –”
“Bodean,” Black barked. “Focus. Was her purse in the car?”
He heard a mumble of voices and then, “No.”
“You check the glove compartment? Under the seats?”
“Black, what the hell? The police know how to search through a car. The purse wasn’t there, but –”
Black closed the call, tossed the phone to Brooks and turned to address the room.
“She has my gun. Those shots, it didn’t have to be him pulling the trigger. It could have been her.” His eyes met his father’s and saw understanding bleed into them. “She could still be alive.”
“Jesus,” he heard Ice rasp out.
“Long shot, but we’re gonna go with it,” Black said. “Until someone tells me they found her dead, she is alive to all of us.”
“What do you need?”
“We’re calling in everyone, setting up a ring. Call Paddy, call Doug. Then start pulling information and pictures together to send around. You got time after that, see if you can get a lock on her phone,” Black ordered his brother. “Brooks?”
“Yup.”
“The law fucks up all the time because the PD’s don’t fucking talk to each other. You’ll make sure they fucking talk to each other. Call Mackenzie, set up a network. Then get the boys spread out along the border.”
“Will do.”
“Dad,” Black said and turned to his parents. “I need you to get to Desiree. She’s alone and afraid, and whatever news comes in, she shouldn’t be alone when she gets it.”
“Of course,” Roddy said. “You’ll call the other clubs?”
“Yeah. Starting with Graw, they’re closest. Then Tony. A few of the others.”
Roddy nodded, glanced at his wife, and put a heavy hand on Black’s shoulder.
“There’s hope, son.”
“I know,” Black said.
It was slim, but it was there.
Hope.
Then Roddy took a couple of swift steps over to the bar, reached over it for a knife and calmly cut off the patch with his title from his vest.
“You’re gonna take this one.”
He didn’t put it as a question, and Black stared at the patch for a second. He’d liked being Sergeant, always assumed Ice would be the one, and that it would happen when Roddy was dead.
Black knew he’d be a good president, though, and now that small piece of fabric would help him call in the favors he needed.
“Yeah,” he said and took it. “I’ll put it on later.”
“We’ll get it stitched on properly later,” his mother amended his statement calmly. “Use this for now.”
He stared at the piece of double-sided tape for a beat and then he nodded, pulled the knife out of his father’s hand and without hesitating even a second, he cut off the Sergeant at Arms patch he’d worn for so many years. The new patch ended up a bit lopsided, and he didn’t care.
“Brooks,” he called out. “Pick your second. You get this.”
Brooks caught the patch and glanced at Ice who nodded once and said, “Don’t want it. Get to work, man.”
Black was already by a big table at the far end of the bar, and had his phone by his ear, waiting for Booger to pick up.
“Black, man, you’ve got your nose above water fin –”
“No time to chat, Boog. Cas has been taken, and it’s fucking bad. Need your help.”
“What do you need?”
The answer came immediately, and the other man’s voice had turned hard and angry.
“Police found her car half hour south of Spokane, a small town called Sprague. She managed to get a call through from a house somewhere, probably two-three hours from there. They might be moving again. I’m closing a ring around the mountains.”
“Shit.”
“Need every man you got, Booger.”
“We’re calling them in already. You’ll call Tony?”
