“I’ll get this finished, Prez. No need to bring the boy to the clubhouse and risk someone seeing us.”
“I won’t repeat myself. Get the boy and bring him to me!” Mario screamed, Digger’s chest tightening at what the anger meant for him.
“Will do, Prez.” He ended the call before Mario could say anything else.
Digger had seen the man lose it so often it was expected. Like a recalcitrant child, Mario had little control of his hair-trigger temper. The desert around Liberty Lake was filled with hidden graves of men who hadn’t lived up to the man’s expectations.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, he took several turns as he planned what to do next. Not a chance he’d go back to the clubhouse to face whatever Mario had planned for him. He’d become a patched member three years ago and done well. Even so, Digger had no doubt there’d be a bullet, or worse, waiting for him when he delivered Timmy.
It would take a lot of pain, time, and money to remove the Night Devils ink from his back and chest. He’d also have to make some changes to his appearance, but he already knew where he’d go. Watching the prez’s mental stability decline with each passing month, he’d already identified where he’d go, procured his new ID, and even had a job waiting.
Wasn’t what he’d wanted when joining the Devils as a prospect. In his somewhat brief tenure, the club had gone through three presidents. Poison and Burn were both dead. They’d been brutal men, done what was needed to protect the club. They hadn’t been batshit crazy.
That title was reserved for Mario. Unstable and without remorse for any action, he’d made agreements which could be lucrative. Digger believed the deeper they got into human trafficking, the worse their exposure. And he didn’t trust Cal Coleman. If the FBI agent would turn on his own team, he’d have no trouble turning on the Devils.
Digger refused to be around to see it. Today would be the end of his MC association. They’d try to find Timmy before he dropped the two men off at their apartments, telling them he’d meet them at the clubhouse. By the time Mario realized he wouldn’t show, Digger would be miles away, heading to a part of the world where no one would find him.
Chapter Twenty
Timmy dropped to his knees behind a huge rose bush, waiting as several cars drove by. They paid him no attention, never even looked his way.
The sun had begun to drop behind the western hills, the temperature plunging as it often did in the high desert. At over five thousand feet, Liberty Lake had four seasons, including snow in the winter. Not a lot, but enough to provide a change for locals and visitors alike. It wasn’t winter, so no snow was in the forecast, which didn’t mean the temperature wouldn’t drop into the forties. Still in his pajamas and no shoes, any drop would be noticeable.
It hadn’t been a thought when he escaped. Running through the woods had been a problem, but fear had driven him on. The bottoms of his feet now stung with numerous cuts and bruises.
Waiting until the last car passed, Timmy stood, rushing across the road. He had an idea where he was, but couldn’t be certain. His school had offered a field trip last year, and the area looked familiar. It didn’t mean he had a clue where he was in relation to Ali’s house.
Timmy knew his mother wouldn’t care about Digger taking him. Ali might. She and Raider were the two people he trusted most. Maybe Deputy Bettencourt, but he wasn’t as certain about her. She was a cop, and his mother had always told him to stay clear of anyone with a badge. She’d also told Timmy he was worthless, a real hindrance to her social life. He ignored both thoughts to focus on finding Ali.
He had her phone number, but no way to call and no address, just a vague memory of the route she took home from the hospital. If he couldn’t find her tonight, Timmy would do what he’d done many times—find a concrete storm drainpipe large enough to hide inside.
“We have a countywide search going on. Several prominent locals have offered their help. Their interest has brought more exposure to the disappearance and helped increase the number of volunteers.” Ethan sat in Ali’s living room with Raider and Geoff, discussing the massive search for Timmy.
“The news is all over this, resulting in a couple busloads of volunteers arriving from the valley,” Geoff said. “They won’t stay more than a day or two, but we’ll take all help offered. Vela and Officer Elaine Brownell are coordinating the search efforts.”
“Eternal Brethren have been on this since I contacted Wrath. He called Demons Blood,” Ethan added. “Drago’s men have been out most of the day, and he told Wrath they’d keep at it as long as they could. Both MCs have businesses to run.” He said the last with a raised brow. Ethan knew Wrath and his men ran legal motorcycle and auto repair shops, restaurants, bars, and storage facilities. He didn’t believe the Blood did anything within the law, but would go along with it for the help Drago offered.
“The foster couple are distressed over Timmy being taken from their house. They’re in their fifties and aren’t in an emotional state to help much.” Ethan grabbed his ringing phone from the table and stood. “Excuse me.” Walking away, the others watched him, seeing his features turn cold. Pocketing the phone, he turned back toward them.
“That was Deputy Donny LeVeau. A man driving on County Road Ten saw a young boy in pajamas and barefoot. He darted across the road, disappeared into the brush. The boy matched Timmy’s description. The guy says he stopped, tried to find him, but he’d already disappeared.”
“What time?” Geoff asked.
“Thirty minutes ago. Vela has already sent additional deputies and volunteers to search the area.”
“It’s getting dark. If he’s only in pajamas…” Ali’s voice trailed off, hand pressing against her chest. “And barefoot?”
Ethan nodded. “That’s what the man said. Makes sense if he was kidnapped. If Timmy left the house in regular clothes and shoes, I’d be more inclined to think he ran away. Which means he might be trying to get to you, Ali.”
She jumped up, going to the front door. Drawing it open, she looked around the porch, yard, and street, standing there several long moments before going back inside and flipping on the porch light. Ali did the same with the light outside the kitchen and off the back door before returning to the living room. The men were huddled together, speaking in low voices, stopping when she sat back down.
“What’s going on, Jace?” He settled an arm over her shoulders, which she shook off. “Tell me.”
Ethan glanced at Raider, who nodded. “Two Night Devils were found dead.”
Jaw dropping, she shot a look at Jace. “Digger?”
“No. The assumption is they may have been involved in Timmy’s kidnapping. When he escaped, they went back to the Devils clubhouse. Mario doesn’t deal well with incompetence.”
Ethan continued. “We suspect the bodies were supposed to be buried, but some off-roaders must’ve spooked whoever did it. A truck roared off before they arrived where the bodies had been dumped.”
“Damn lucky for them,” Geoff said. “If the shooters were Night Devils, I would expect them to kill the witnesses and bury them alongside the others.”
Raider chuckled. “I imagine Mario’s having one of his infamous tantrums about now. May even order the killing of the shooters.”
“He’d be doing us a favor.” The others nodded at Ethan’s comment.
Ali placed a hand on Jace’s thigh. “What about Digger?”
“We’re guessing he took off. He knows Mario’s history dealing with failure. If he was one of the men involved in Timmy’s kidnapping, he’d have been smart to get away. He could be a hundred miles away by now.”
“Farther, depending on when Timmy got away.” Geoff massaged the back of his neck. “He might not be as stupid as we'd all believed. A dangerous killer with no conscience, but he may have been smart enough to plan for this situation.”
“The Devils are a national club. Every one of them will be looking for him, and if he’s found…” Ethan shrugged.
“He deserves w
hatever they do to him.” Ali’s comment had the others staring at her. She was a loving, compassionate woman. The venom in her voice was out of character, no matter how much they agreed with her.
This time when Jace put an arm around her, she didn’t shake it off. “Unless he’s arrested, odds are we’ll never know what happens to Digger. What we need to do is locate Timmy.”
Ali leaned against Jace, heart pounding. “What can we do?”
“Stay here and wait, in case Timmy shows up,” Ethan answered. “If we find him, Geoff or I will let you know.”
“Why are you so sure he’ll come here?” She’d known him a short time, not long enough to form a strong bond. Still, Ali hoped Timmy felt safe with her and Jace. The thought had her looking at him. “Can you stay?”
Kissing her forehead, Jace drew her closer. “There’s no way I’m leaving you. I do need to check with Wrath to find out what’s going on.”
“Geoff and I are going to take off. You have our numbers. Call us if Timmy shows up.”
Ali stood, hugging Ethan, then Geoff, before turning toward Jace, who was already beside her. “Thank you both.”
“I’d tell you we’re just doing our job, but it’s become more to both Ethan and me. The number of abused and runaway kids is increasing. Many end up being taken by gangs such as MS-13 and sold on online auctions before being shipped overseas. We suspect the Night Devils are involved in human trafficking, but haven’t been able to prove it. Timmy is one of many vulnerable children. A mother who doesn’t care about him, her boyfriend who’s a member of the Devils, and no one at home to meet him after school.”
“Timmy told me he didn’t have any other relatives,” Raider said.
Geoff nodded. “That’s what he told Vela. Which means you and Ali are the only people he can trust. It’s why he sought her out at the hospital when Digger beat him up the last time.”
“I hope this is where he comes. I’m concerned about him ending up alone tonight, Jace.”
He stroked a hand down her hair. “He’s a survivor, babe. Timmy’s going to be okay.”
“We’re heading out,” Ethan said.
“Please keep us posted.”
“Will do, Ali.”
Timmy snuck from one backyard to another, huddling behind whatever he could as he continued. The cool breeze had grown colder since the sun set, penetrating his thin pajamas. Tucking into a ball every so often helped keep him warm.
He felt certain Ali’s house was close by. He recognized the neighborhood of older homes with large yards and big trees. They weren’t identical, but close enough he had a hard time picking hers out.
Timmy tried to remember the color. The darkness made it hard to make out the differences, other than dark or light tones. Pursing his lips, he thought about going to the front where most still had porch lights on.
Taking a chance, he rushed along the side yard, crouching at the front edge of a house. Peeking around the corner, he didn’t recognize the front porch. This definitely wasn’t Ali’s.
Moving to the front had been a good decision. It would be much easier to recognize her house.
Waiting for a car to pass, he ran to the next house, then the one after it. Rubbing his arms against the chill, he crouched down for several minutes. His feet were caked in dirt, grit between his toes. And his ears were cold, as were his hands. He needed to find Ali and hope she’d let him inside.
Without thought, he stood and started running along the sidewalk, oblivious to everything around him. So focused on locating her house, he didn’t hear the rumbling of motorcycles or notice the headlights coming up behind him.
He continued running, swiveling his head from one side of the street to the other, not seeing her house, but determined to keep going. Timmy felt lightheaded as he ran, his stomach rumbling. His last meal was dinner the night before. Meatloaf with mashed potatoes, gravy, and chocolate cake for dessert. The memory caused his stomach to rumble even more, causing cramps.
Besides food, he hadn’t had water for almost twenty-four hours. Timmy had spotted several hoses once he reached this neighborhood, but didn’t take the chance to use one, afraid someone would see him.
Looking ahead, Timmy’s heart raced, and not from the constant running. He was certain Ali’s house was just ahead. Three more houses and he’d be there.
His feet hurt from the open cuts and hours of traveling through rough terrain. The pain began to fade as he got closer to the house.
Yes! It was Ali’s house.
Seconds away, strong hands landed on his shoulders, dragging him to a stop. Panic overcame Timmy when the man whirled him around.
“No!” It was all he could get out before the big, broad-shouldered man pulled him against his chest, silencing him. Crouching down, the man stared into his eyes.
“Are you Timmy?”
His throat clogged in fear. The man wore a cut, similar to Digger’s. But there was something different about it.
“Are you looking for Ali and Raider?”
Timmy’s eyes opened, jaw dropping. “You know Raider?”
“One of my best friends.” The man, bigger than almost anyone Timmy had ever seen, held out his hand. “I’m Rock. We’re here to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The five men sat around a table in a back room of a bar an hour away from Liberty Lake, scowls marring each face. No one would recognize them in an establishment drawing old-timers with fixed incomes and nothing to do except watch the old television in one corner.
Beers were still two bucks and a bowl of peanuts twenty-five cents. And, if so inclined, popcorn from a machine was available for seventy-five cents. More than a few locals would stop by for a bag before driving to the movie theater an hour away.
The men noticed none of this. They’d purchased a round of beer and a few bowls of peanuts, which sat untouched in the middle of the table.
Cal had met the owner years ago during a drug stakeout. He’d kept the man out of jail when it had been discovered his bar was being used as a transfer point for a variety of illegal substances. In exchange, Cal had asked to use the place for his occasional, private meetings.
“It’s become too hot for us to move more product. We need to back off until the fuss over the boy dies down.” Cal took a long draw on his cigarette, blowing the smoke over his shoulder. He’d tried to quit several times without success. Now he just went with it.
“Manny will never allow us to walk away from this,” Mario ground out, mentioning Manuel Lazo-Ramos, their contact with MS-13 out of the valley. “There will be retaliation.”
“They’ll start working with Demons Blood.” Malcolm Wendt reached for a handful of peanuts, fingers fumbling as he tried to peel the first one. “This is out of control.”
“You aren’t getting out of this, Wendt. We made a pact, and you’re damn well going to stick with it,” Mario growled at the district attorney, a man he should never have brought into the deal. At the time, it seemed wise to include a man greedy for wealth who could become a buffer if things went to shit.
“I never said I want out,” Wendt shot back. “I agree with Cal that we should back away for a while, let things cool down.”
Mario turned toward Eddie Katz. “What about you?”
Downing several gulps of bitter beer, he set the bottle down. “I think Cal and Malcolm are right. None of us can afford to have anyone watching us.”
“Hell, my guess is they already are.” Junior Blackmore smoothed a hand down his silk tie, wiping peanut shells from his shirt and pants. “As much as we want to believe Sheriff McCord and Chief Bettencourt are incompetent, they’re far from it. Who I fear as much are the Eternal Brethren and Demons Blood. Did you know both MCs are involved in the search for the Fallon boy?”
“Seems every damn person in the area is searching for him.” Malcolm peeled the label off his beer, a nervous habit he’d developed in college.
Eddie shot a look at Mario. “You’r
e certain your man didn’t leave the area with him?”
Mario thought of Digger, as well as the two Devils who paid the price for their incompetence. They’d sworn the boy had run. “Yes. The kid escaped and Digger took off. Smart man,” Mario sneered. He’d escaped the punishment doled out to the others. Mario wouldn’t rest until he’d been found and suffered for his enormous stupidity.
“What are we trying to accomplish tonight?” Junior asked, feigning a relaxed manner when inside he was anything but.
Wendt sent him an indulgent look, as if the answer was obvious. Mario glared at him in disgust while Eddie snorted at the question. Cal answered for all of them.
“If we cool things off, Manny and his crew may exact retaliation on each of us and move his business to Drago and Demons Blood.”
“How do we know the Blood are interested in trafficking children? I’ve always been told Drago’s into drugs, weapons, and illegal goods, but stays clear of dealing in humans.”
Cal had to agree with Junior. Demons Blood had moved out of human trafficking a few years earlier, focusing on other illegal activities.
“You could be right, but do we want to take the chance? We’re all in too deep to just back away.” Cal looked around the table, his gaze landing on Mario, the most volatile of the five. “What I’m suggesting is stepping back for a few weeks, renegotiate the agreement with our buyers. Given what’s happened, they may be open to it. If not, we’ll deal with the fallout.”
Nobody wanted to consider the fallout could result in a war between the various factions involved in the association—an alliance of men who trusted no one.
Of the men in the room, Wendt and Junior were the least likely to handle a threat. They’d been brought in to facilitate the agreement with the buyers, a group of businessmen around the world. As for the others, each man had his role. Cal kept their activities off the FBI’s radar, Katz did the same with local law enforcement, and Mario facilitated the transfer of the products from MS-13 to the buyers.
Exposed (Eternal Brethren Military Romantic Suspense Book 7) Page 14
