Brute's Strength

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Brute's Strength Page 19

by Karen Renee


  He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I get the appeal of a fan if you’re camping in July, but for noise? Just, no. Camping is all about not sleepin’ good and gettin’ cranky on day two, only to conk out dead-to-the-world that night. So, I’m glad to hear you didn’t succumb to that bullshit, babe.”

  Her giggle was music to his ears. “Those opinions sound very firm, Brute.”

  He kissed her forehead. “They are.”

  She leaned back a touch. “I’m probably not gonna ask you to go camping with us, though. Like I said it’s probably still too soon and... well, our tent is rather cramped. And while Aubrey’s not that big, you wouldn’t be very comfy.”

  Since his hand still cupped her cheek, he stroked her cheekbone. “It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, Zee. Don’t worry about December until it gets closer, yeah?”

  She nodded. “You sure you don’t want to shower first?” After a heavy pause she added, “Or together?”

  “You’re a temptress, babe, but I gotta pass.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Money Out of a Dead Man

  Kenzie

  While part of me was disappointed Brute didn’t want to shower together, a larger part of me was relieved because my mind was preoccupied with Caleb’s text message about Aubrey. With no mention of him actually being in town the rest of the week, the idea that I should wait until Saturday to get my girl rankled. I had waited until Brute left to take my shower, and as I stood under the steamy spray, a thought struck me.

  Caleb hated interacting with Aubrey’s teachers. I never knew why, but his annoyance came through every time. A sneaking suspicion hit me that he had never filled out the authorized child pick-up form to add Veronica to Aubrey’s list.

  Not knowing if Duane would be in our branch again today, I made sure to arrive early to work.

  I caught up with Lydia as she unlocked the front doors. “Good morning, boss-lady.”

  She chuckled. “Good morning, yourself, Brute’s-lady... or is it too soon to say that?”

  My jaw dropped and I spluttered. Lydia burst into peals of laughter.

  I followed her inside the bank. “Do we know if Duane will be here again today?”

  She plunked her purse on her desk. “We do, and he will not. Why might you ask? Eager for another talking to about gangs and thugs?”

  I wheezed out a laugh. “You sound more offended than I was, but no. I ask because I wanted to be sure I still have my normal hours. Though, as a heads-up, I may have to run out at quarter to three. I suspect Caleb’s up to something, and unless he’s taken the time to fill out a school form—”

  “When’s he ever filled out paperwork?” she asked, knowing that I had to do all the paperwork –whether for Aubrey, our finances, or anything else– when we were married.

  I smiled. “Never, as far as I know, but there’s a first time for everything. So, I’m giving you the heads-up in case the school calls.”

  Lydia bowed her head a touch while holding a hand out toward me. “No offense, woman, but remind me never to get divorced.”

  “You’d have to get married first, wouldn’t you?” I goaded.

  She laughed. “Get to work, Whitehall.”

  My work day went by in a blur. As I packed up my things to leave, my cell rang, the display indicating the school was calling.

  “Hello, this is Kenzie,” I answered.

  “Ms. Whitehall, this is Mrs. Ferris at the extended-day program.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Ferris. Is Aubrey all right?”

  “She is, but are you unable to pick her up this evening? There’s a woman here, who is not on the approved pick-up list.”

  I walked around my desk, giving Lydia a short wave as I exited through the doors. “I’m on my way now. I’m sorry for the confusion. I’ll call Veronica on her cell.”

  While I settled in my Subaru, my phone rang. I glanced at the display, relieved it was Veronica and not Caleb. “Hi, Veronica. I’m sorry you’re being—”

  “Listen, Caleb’s going to be pissed. You really ought to let me pick up Aubrey. Caleb’s going to call me at six on the nose to be sure I’ve got your daughter.”

  I shook my head. “Seeing as you’re not on the list of people—”

  “You know she would’ve made an exception if you’d have given her the say-so.”

  As she spoke, I bit my lip. “No. If Caleb wanted anyone else to pick up Aubrey, he should’ve filled out the required forms.”

  She sighed.

  Rather than wait her out, I asked, “Out of curiosity, is he still in town?”

  “No.”

  I grinned. “Then it’s a good thing I was planning to get my girl anyway.”

  “You’re stirring the pot, Kenzie.”

  “No, I’m not. He’s put you in the middle and that isn’t cool. He wants you to be able to pick up Aubrey, he should’ve added you to the authorized list. He didn’t, and that’s on him.”

  She made a conciliatory sound. “You’re right, but like I said, he’s going to call me at six. I’m not going to lie to him. Not about where Aubrey is.”

  I smiled. “And I wouldn’t want you to, Veronica. That would only make things harder, since he said he’d like to patch things up with you.”

  She scoffed. “He said that?”

  “Not in those words, but that was the impression I got.”

  “He’ll need to do better than giving an impression. Have a good evening, Kenzie.”

  I made record time driving across town and getting to the school at a quarter to six. To my surprise, Caleb didn’t call me until seven-thirty. That coincided with Aubrey’s bath time, so maybe I wasn’t that surprised.

  “Hello, Caleb.”

  “Did you not comprehend my text message? I said you would get Aubrey back on Saturday.”

  “I comprehend that you’re out of town. Your prior communication indicated I would take her while you’re out of town.”

  His tone of voice tightened. “You had no right to prevent Ronnie from—”

  “I didn’t prevent her from doing anything. You didn’t have her on the list. I took care of your oversight.”

  “You’re a piece of work. I don’t want my daughter around a gang, and I have no doubt—”

  “Aubrey and I are the only people in the house, Caleb. So you can think again. Further, it’s not a gang.”

  He barked out a bitter laugh. “Get your head out of your ass, Kenzie. You’re making a big change in Aubrey’s life. Now you’re showing signs of being unfit if you’re crazy enough to believe it isn’t a gang.”

  He hung up before I could retort or ask if he expected Veronica to pick up Aubrey tomorrow.

  Brute

  AT TWO-THIRTY-SIX, Brute returned to his office from a late lunch. As he swung his truck door closed, he noticed something in the side mirror. He made a show of patting his pockets as though he forgot his phone, unlocked the truck and swung the door open slowly. In the mirror, he caught sight of a man standing next to his car. He was holding a camera with a telephoto lens. Brute grabbed a tape measure from the pocket of the door, closed it, and bleeped the locks as he rounded the hood.

  Standing just inside his office, he called Har, who answered on the second ring.

  “You got time to get over here? I spotted Strickland, and I want to approach him—”

  “What the fuck for?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I need a witness. You can’t come, I’ll call ’Nic or Block.”

  Har sighed. “Don’t bother. ’Nic’s just outside my door, perched on Julie’s desk. We’ll be there in five.”

  Meg came out of the small bathroom at the back of his office suite. “Hey. What’s goin’ on? You’re standing there like you’re waiting for somebody.”

  He shot her a grin. “Just ignore me for right now.”

  She choked on a laugh. “You’re a little too big to just ignore, boss.”

  “A little effort, I’m sure you can manage,” he muttered. Then he moved to a window, where the
blinds were open. The man wasn’t standing by the car any longer, but at least the car was still there.

  His brows shot together when Har and Cynic sauntered into his office. He hadn’t heard their bikes.

  “Hey, Cynic,” Meg called.

  Cynic gave her a low wave while Har gave Brute a hard look.

  He looked to his assistant. “Meg, go take a coffee break.”

  “Seriously? It’s three o’clock, I won’t—”

  His eyes widened. “Make it a decaf. I don’t care. Just get outta here, but come back in half an hour.”

  As soon as she scurried out of the office, he said, “You two park out back or some shit? Surprised I didn’t hear you both pull in.”

  Har grinned. “I had my truck today, and we parked out back for good measure.”

  Brute returned the grin. “Nice. Since he’s here, I want to confront this guy—”

  “That’s a bad idea,” Cynic said.

  Brute shook his head. “No. Hear me out. Wreck and Massive were skimming from us and re-routing our product to someone else. Layla had mentioned a car with Florida plates. Probably means nothing, but—”

  “If it means nothing, that asshole’s gonna know that too.”

  Brute gave Cynic a look. “Don’t be so sure. In fact, that’s our biggest problem, isn’t it? We don’t know what he knows. If he only has the shit Tovar feeds him, then maybe we can point him in another direction.”

  “Weak, man,” Cynic muttered.

  “It’s better than the nothing we’ve got right now.”

  Har gave a feeble nod. “You’re both right. This is weak, but we need to get a jump on what this asshole knows. I don’t like having to react to whatever bullshit he pulls.”

  Brute gave a nod. “Let’s get over there before he leaves.”

  “We goin’ in soft?” Cynic asked.

  Thoughts of this man watching Kenzie and her daughter forced him to nod. “Afraid so. Too much on the line, man.”

  Ten minutes later, Brute and Har approached the driver side of Strickland’s Nissan Altima, while Cynic leaned in through the passenger side window.

  “You must not be from ’round here,” Cynic drawled. “This ain’t the place to roll with your windows down.”

  Brute fought shaking his head at the thick southern accent his MC brother used. Strickland turned from Cynic to aim narrowed eyes at Brute and Har.

  “The fuck do you assholes want?”

  He tipped his head in a conciliatory way. “Same thing you do. Find your brother.”

  “Bullshit,” Strickland bit out, before he opened his door. Brute and Har had just enough time to get out of the way before the door flew open wide.

  “Tryin’ to assault us?” Har asked.

  Strickland’s beady eyes glared at Har. “No. I don’t want a murderer hanging around my car.”

  “Drop that shit. The cops haven’t arrested him, hell, they haven’t even taken him in for questioning, and it’s been a year.”

  Rather than let Strickland retort, Brute waded into the conversation. “Did you know your brother had set up a cook-house?”

  “That’s in the police report, what’s your point?”

  “He got the money by stealing from the club.”

  “Which gives you motive to kill him.”

  Brute shook his head nice and slow. “I’d never kill one of my brothers. Especially since we wanted our money back. Damn hard to get money out of a dead man.”

  Strickland’s lip curled into an ugly sneer. “Like I would believe jack shit you had to say.”

  With his best good ol’ boy smile, Brute said, “Don’t believe us. Believe the woman he’s accused of killing. She told us point blank, a man paid Wreck. She’d never seen him before, and wasn’t introduced to him, but his car had Florida license plates. That guy would have more to gain by getting rid of Layla and your brother.”

  “Why would he kill his supplier?” Strickland sneered.

  Har shrugged. “Gets the product and probably doesn’t have to pay for it.”

  “Or he took his money back from Wreck. Dead men don’t fight back,” Brute said.

  Strickland glared at him. “Get the fuck away from me. You assholes are wasting my time.”

  Cynic – always a wiseass – piped up from the other side of the vehicle. “How the fuck could we be? You were just sittin’ here in your car with the windows wide open.”

  Brute sighed. “If you’re getting all your information from Detective Tovar, go talk to his partner, Detective Dennizen. He’s the best detective on the force for a reason. He’ll tell you—”

  “He’ll tell me my brother is the only person of interest in a murder is what he’ll tell me.”

  Har stroked his goatee. “That’s true, but why waste your time watching us? There are other possibilities for what happened.”

  A calculating look crossed Strickland’s face. “Seeing as you three came here to tell me to stop, I’m thinkin’ this is working.”

  An unmarked sedan double-parked next to the Altima. Detective Tovar was at the wheel.

  Detective Dennizen quickly got out of the passenger seat. “Good afternoon.”

  Strickland grinned deviously. A lead weight settled in Brute’s gut.

  “Good afternoon, Detective,” Har said.

  Cynic had moved to Brute’s other side when the car pulled up, and he gave the detectives a curt nod.

  “There a problem here?” Dennizen asked.

  While the Riot brothers shook their heads, Strickland said, “Yeah. These assholes are harassing me.”

  Dennizen chuckled. “I know these men are capable of harassment, but it didn’t look that way when we pulled up.”

  Had the world gone haywire? That sounded almost like Dennizen believed them to be innocent.

  Detective Tovar slammed his door shut. “Looks can be deceiving, Travis.”

  Annoyance flashed on Dennizen’s face before he turned to his partner. “They can be, but in this case they aren’t. These three members have all been detained on disorderly conduct before, and if they were harassing Mr. Strickland, we’d know it.”

  Tovar’s jaw ticked, but Dennizen turned to Har. “If you and your men are done here, we need to talk to Mr. Strickland.”

  “Let’s go,” Har muttered.

  When they were halfway back to his office, Brute said, “I wish we could overhear what was being said.”

  “My guess is the credit card activity was finally reported. That shit can take time to get to the assigned detectives and relayed to the victim’s family,” Har said.

  “Notice how he immediately accused us of harassing him?” Cynic asked, when they were inside the office.

  Brute nodded.

  “Yeah, I didn’t like that, either,” Har said. Then he speared Brute with his gaze. “You gotta stay the hell away from that bastard.”

  He clenched his jaw.

  “I know that goes against our grain, Brute, but something isn’t right about that guy.”

  His chin dipped. “Yeah. Kenzie mentioned something similar. Thought his concern about her being a single mother bein’ with a criminal was a little too personal.”

  Har nodded. “Don’t ignore that, man.”

  “Thanks for having my back.”

  Cynic slapped Brute on the shoulder. “Where the fuck else would we be?”

  AN HOUR AFTER HAR AND Cynic left, the club doctor called Brute’s cell.

  “Hey, Doc. Got good news for me?”

  He could hear the smile in Dr. Silverman’s voice. “I do. You’re clean as a whistle for what we tested. But, your cholesterol is a little high.”

  Brute chuckled. “All right, Doc. I’ll cut back on the red meat.”

  “That’s a start, but a fish-oil vitamin wouldn’t go amiss either, Brute.”

  He grinned as thoughts of his last dinner with Kenzie hit him. “Or a serving of salmon at dinner?”

  “If you’re eating it plain, sure. But, I get the feeling you like butter wh
ich negates the—”

  “All right, all right, doc. I’ll get on the fish oil.”

  Doc chuckled. “Good. We’ll see you for your physical next year.”

  His cell rang twenty minutes later, and he figured it would be Dr. Silverman again, but it was the club’s law firm.

  “Mr. Vaillant, this is Ms. Wentz. I handle family law at Gower and Gower. I understand this pertains to someone other than yourself?”

  He stood to close his office door. “Yes, ma’am. Though, I’m the reason her ex is threatening to take her back to court.”

  “Yes. I can tell you a couple things on that. In Mississippi, changing the terms of a custody agreement requires a material change in circumstances has occurred for the child. So, I need to know if that’s the case. Are you currently living with this woman?”

  “No.”

  “Are you planning to move in?”

  “No.

  “Have you met her child?”

  “Not yet. Why?”

  “Mr. Vaillant, if you move in with this woman and her child, that’s clearly a material change. Until you do that, or have regular interaction with the child, he has no basis for modifying the terms only because of her involvement with you. While the father may believe you to be unsavory, by the standards of the law you are not currently in this child’s life. Even when you become part of this child’s life, he still has to prove to the satisfaction of the court that you are unsavory.”

  He nodded. “That all sounds great, Ms. Wentz, but are you sure there are no loopholes here? Something about this guy tells me he might try to grease the system.”

  She chuckled. “Unless he’s quite wealthy or well-connected it is unlikely he’ll get a hearing in anything less than sixty days. Thanksgiving is approaching and with the rest of the holiday season, he would be lucky to get a date prior to the new year.”

  Relief welled inside him, but he tamped it down. His luck had a way of running out even when it shouldn’t. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Wentz. I appreciate it.”

 

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