Then I sat back in my chair and tried to reason through the last couple of days.
Indecision didn’t feel good, so I shifted through the case files on my desk and found Thelma Mullen’s folder and took a quick note of her address. Melvin lived right next door, so maybe I should actually do my job and start investigating these drug cases. The very least I could do would be a drive-by, and since the sun was finally not hiding behind June cloud cover, why the heck not?
Then, taking a deep breath, I called the one person I really didn’t want to talk to.
“Pierce.” Even the detective’s phone answering voice sounded cranky.
“Um, Hi. It’s Anna Albertini.” My voice sounded way too hesitant. “The DEA took most of our records, and I don’t have a casefile on Aiden Devlin. I don’t have even one document to use in prosecuting him.”
Detective Pierce was quiet for all of two beats. “Don’t you talk to each other over there?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Basanelli already called earlier this morning, and I put him in contact with the DEA drug task force. He should have everything we have by mid-day, including all of the information on the Lordes.”
Oh. I closed my eyes and winced hard enough my nose hurt. Of course. “Lords? Who are they?”
Pierce’s sigh was forceful enough, I swear my ear burned. “Lordes with an e. They’re a motorcycle gang located north of Spokane that deals in drugs, guns, and everything else. Aiden is a Defender.”
A Defender? Episodes from Sons of Anarchy ran through my mind. “Motorcycle Gang or Club?” I asked, my voice shaking again. Darn it.
“What’s the difference?” Pierce snapped.
The difference was that one has sexy tough guys with muscles and hot bikes. The other killed people. “How long has Aiden been in this, ah, group?” I asked.
“Long enough, Ms. Albertini. It’s your job to put him away, and you should remember that. He’s a bad guy among really bad guys.”
The condescension in the tone made my teeth ache. “I know my job, Detective. Thank you for your help, and I hope you have a fantastic day.” It wasn’t a ‘bless your heart,’ but for northern Idaho, it meant the same thing. When all else fails, fall back on manners, which was a lesson I’d learned from every woman in my family. Even so, I hung up before he could say anything else. I thought it over. Nick was already on Aiden’s case. It didn’t surprise me. Nick wasn’t in the office, so he must be working from home. I needed to get my hands on that information.
For now, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. It was time to get to work.
Summer hinted on the Chokecherry breeze as I drove through the retirement community. The flowering trees would only last a couple of weeks, but they were a welcome sight after months of grey sky and winter. Even so, in a northern Idaho spring, clouds could come rushing in any second to settle in for the week. For now, I lifted my face to the meager sun and enjoyed the drive.
Beyond a brick monument declaring the place ‘Sunnyside Retirement Community,’ perfectly tended lawns spread from single homes to duplexes, all green and bordered by flowering shrubs. The houses ranged from white to purple to an electric blue. Did older people go color blind? Or did they just have better senses of humor than the rest of us?
Double checking the address on my phone, I pulled into the driveway of a white duplex. The left side had wild pink trim along the edges and windowpanes, while the right had a muted tan.
I went for the pink side. Thelma opened the door before I could knock, wearing a short orange jumpsuit with lime green polka dots. “Anna. Oh, my. Come in out of the cold.” Her bony fingers wrapped around my arm to tug me inside to the small tiled area next to contractor grade beige carpet.
“It’s seventy degrees,” I protested. The woman might be skin and bones, but she had a heck of a lot of strength.
“Exactly.” She shut the door. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” She squinted up at me through bottle thick glasses, her brown eyes huge and concerned.
Everything in me softened, and I concentrated just on her for a moment. “I’m fine. But I wanted to ask you some questions about Melvin, if that would be okay.”
Delight lifted the wrinkles across her pink dusted cheeks. “Oh. How lovely. Am I a witness?”
I stumbled. “Um, more like a source.”
She clapped her hands together, the smell of her vanilla lotion wafting up. “Like an informant?”
“Sure.”
She gestured toward the adjacent living room and its matching floral sofa and chair set. “Well. Then please have a seat.”
I grinned. “Thanks.” The carpet was sturdy beneath my tennis shoes—definitely not soft. I took a seat on one of the chairs. “Where’s Georgiana?”
Thelma perched on the edge of the other chair, her little body vibrating like a Chihuahua seeing a treat. “She and a couple members of the bridge playing group drove over to Spokane for the day. When we couldn’t get the pot from Melvin, we found out where the best dispensaries are—”
I held up my hand. “I think it’d be better if you didn’t tell me about any crimes you ladies might want to commit.” If they brought the marijuana over the state line, they were breaking the law. Again.
“Oh.” She straightened her knobby shoulders. “Of course. It’s just that it helps with the cataracts, you know?”
I didn’t know, but I nodded anyway. “So. Let’s just start at the beginning. Tell me about Melvin. What do you know about him?” I could use her thoughts to supplement whatever the Lugi brothers found.
“Well.” She fluttered her hands together. “Melvin is quite handsome and probably the youngest single male in the community. He’s in his sixties, I think.”
That was young for the area. “Okay.” I smiled, letting her talk.
She leaned toward me. “He works across the border at Greenley Seed Company.”
I frowned. The seed company owned acres and acres across the prairie and researched, grew, and sold grass seed—the kind you put on your lawn but did not smoke—countrywide. Were they growing pot now, too? The industry was closely regulated, so those records should be easy to find, if so. But if Melvin was bringing his work home with him, into Idaho, he was breaking several laws. “What does Melvin do?”
She shrugged. “I think he said something about research and development. Once in a while, he’s still wearing a white lab coat when he gets home.” Her penciled eyebrows wiggled. “He’s quite handsome in the coat. Have you ever played doctor?”
I jerked at the question and then coughed. “Not since I was a kid.” I grinned. “With one of the McDonnell brothers from St. Regis.” Up camping on a good weekend, actually.
Her eyes twinkled. “Yes, well, it’s a good pastime.”
I shook myself back to the present. “How do you know that Melvin keeps pot at his home?”
She snorted. “He smokes it out back, and a lot of people drop by to visit him, you know?”
As if on cue, a car pulled up outside. We both turned and moved in unison for the sofa to peer through the thick chintz curtains and spy. I’d love to get a visual on Melvin.
A cute blonde female in her late teens or early twenties popped out of a white convertible to move toward the door. Thelma dug her elbow into my side in an effort to crane her neck to see, but the entry way to Melvin’s was around the side of the garage.
Then the girl came back into sight, holding a backpack, followed closely by…Randy Taylor?
I straightened; my heart rate speeding up. “Randy is living with his uncle?”
“He stays over a lot,” Thelma confirmed, clutching the edge of the sofa, her weight barely leaving a dent in the sofa cushions. “The kid doesn’t talk much.” She sniffed.
The blonde opened her door, and I caught sight of a logo on it. “Tranquility Spa,” I read out loud. Interesting. I’d read about the new spa down by the river in the local paper. As we watched, Randy looked around and then accepted an envelope from
the blonde.
I sucked in air. Had that just been a drug deal? Just how much pot could fit in that backpack? “Do you know the girl?” I whispered, even though the windows were closed, and we remained nicely hidden behind the heavy material.
“Not really,” Thelma whispered back. “She and that kid smoked out back a few times last week, and he called her ‘Cheryl.’ That’s all I know.”
All right. Good enough. I pulled out my phone and had Siri call the Tranquility Spa.
“Tranquility Spa, this is Felicity,” came a very chipper voice.
“Great. I’d like to make an appointment with Cheryl on Monday?” I said, watching the blonde zip out of the driveway.
“She has appointments open in the afternoon. Would you like to do the ‘Bring a friend’ promotion for the Spring Special with first Mandy and then Cheryl?”
I blinked. That would probably seem less suspicious than just seeing Cheryl. “That would be wonderful,” I said.
“Great. Let me get your information,” Felicity said.
“Anna Simms and, ah, Tessa North,” I said smoothly as if I’d gone undercover a million times before.
“Nice.” Thelma elbowed me again.
I shared a grin with her. Yeah. I could do this. My sister would have a lot of fun being somebody else for a day, too. After disconnecting the call, I was feeling a bit triumphant. Maybe I should take this investigatory work across the border and just check out Aiden Devlin and the Lordes.
Why not?
Chapter 11
I left Thelma’s after giving in and having a turkey sandwich on rye, side of potato salad, and hot chocolate. My belly was full, and my body relaxed as I drove from Idaho into Washington and headed north. I’d conducted a quick google search on my phone and found that the Lordes owned a garage north of Spokane that worked on vehicles.
My Fiat was in pretty good shape, so I didn’t really have an excuse for stopping by. But I’d think of something before I arrived. How tough could it be?
Aiden had said he’d wanted to talk to me before he’d rolled me to the ground, so it was kind of an invitation.
Traffic was a pain, but I made my way north and let the phone’s navigation system guide me. Would Aiden be there? My hands grew damp on the steering wheel, and I rolled my eyes before wiping them off. Even if we didn’t have a past, he was a guy who’d draw my attention on looks alone, much less with the intensity flowing from him. Of course, that could’ve been because he’d been in court stuck in an orange jumpsuit and possibly headed back to prison. Maybe he’d seem more mellow on a spring afternoon in June.
Right.
I drove past a mall and then several businesses, continuing north until the commercial buildings became less polished and more ramshackle with barbed wire and barred windows becoming frequent. On a bright note, the traffic thinned out.
Lordes’ Business Garage wasn’t what I expected. A chain link fence, topped with barbed wire, was open wide to reveal a four-stall garage covered in rusting sheet metal. Men worked inside on various trucks. Different vehicles were lined over to the right, including two B&B delivery trucks, one with its hood up.
There was no clubhouse, no apartments, no cool office like in the movies.
The sign above the garage looked newer with a logo for Lordes on it along with a lion wearing a crown. A lion with sharp and blood-stained teeth.
I shivered but drove inside the perimeter. Oh, this was such a complete mistake. I pulled to a stop near a small door to the far left, which must be the office. A man the size of a bull moose stepped outside, his blond hair and beard bushy and long. He wore grease-stained jeans beneath a light blue T-shirt with leather cut. I knew what a cut was from television.
I didn’t have a window to roll down since the top was off. “Hi.”
His gaze raked me as he wiped his hands on a filthy looking rag. He opened my door. “What’s the problem?”
With the car. What was the problem with the car? I felt frozen in place but instinctively stood up and sidled away from him. Lie, damn it. Say there’s a funny sound from the engine. Act like an airhead. “I’m looking for Aiden Devlin,” I blurted out, heat rushing into my face. Crap. There went my cover.
The giant looked me over and then rolled his eyes. “Of course, you are. Bitches are always looking for Devlin.” He said it casually, naturally, as if using any old adjective.
The bastard had called me a bitch and didn’t even realize he was insulting me. I opened my mouth to let him have it when reality smacked me. Wait a minute. He accepted my reason for being there. Oh. So many women sought out Aiden, it was normal. I should’ve felt relief. Not so much.
“Devlin,” the guy bellowed. “Get out here.”
Wait. Did I really want to see Aiden? I tried to keep my expression calm. What had I been thinking? I’d just wanted to do a drive-by. That’s all. What was wrong with me?
“What?” Aiden snapped, appearing out of the farthest garage. He wore ripped jeans and a dark T-shirt, sans the cut. His thick hair curled around his ears, a smudge of grease decorated his very muscled left bicep, and a dented wrench looked at home in his hand. He turned his head and stopped short, his blue eyes blazing through the day.
A couple of guys inside the other garages looked up from their various vehicles.
“Company,” the guy next to me said, amusement heavy in his tone. “Not your usual type.”
Usual type? What did that mean?
Aiden’s expression didn’t change, but he muttered something that didn’t sound complimentary. Then he turned and moved toward me. A lot of guys strutted, or walked, or just ambled. Not Aiden. He prowled. Everything inside me wanted to jump back in the Fiat and peel out. But his gaze, that hot and deep ocean blue gaze, pinned me in place.
Butterflies on meth crackled through my abdomen with a shocking heat.
By the tense angle of his jaw, he wasn’t happy to see me. He arrived, and the scent of male, oil, and leather came with him.
“Gonna introduce us?” the first guy asked.
“Anna, Spider. Spider, Anna,” Aiden said shortly, his gaze not leaving mine. “Somethin’ wrong with your car?”
Numbly, I shook my head.
“Good. Get in.” He gestured toward the open door and crossed back around to slide into the passenger seat. The entire car lowered with his bulk. He tossed the wrench to Spider, who easily caught it. “This might take an hour.” Then his gaze raked me, but unlike with his buddy, tingles exploded all over my body. “Or maybe two,” he said lazily.
Fire slashed into my cheeks, but I settled into the car and drove quickly out of the lot, ignoring his friend’s chuckle behind us.
It took me several miles to find my voice as I drove even further north, not sure where I was heading. “Was that really necessary?”
Aiden remained silent, taking up too much room in the small car, his gaze on the old buildings turning to wheat fields. I drove for about a half an hour, my mind spinning. The stalks soon blanketed us on both sides, waving softly in the slight wind.
I swallowed. Was silence a good thing? Probably not. I cut a glance at him sideways. In profile, he looked just as tough as face on, but the angles were sharper. More defined and somehow deadly. He was the best-looking guy I’d ever seen in real life, and part of that was a danger stamped across his features that went beyond roguish. A fierceness that was hard to quantify and uncomfortable to feel but too intriguing to ignore. “Aiden?”
He nodded toward a dirt cutout. “Pull over.”
My lungs compressed fast and hard. I didn’t know this guy. It had been twelve years since we’d breathed the same air, and there was a lifetime of experiences we hadn’t shared. All I knew about him was that he’d been charged with a felony and was a member in a drug-running motorcycle club. But that couldn’t be right. I pulled the car over, and dust blew up behind us.
“Jesus.” He was out of the car in one smooth motion of pure maleness, slamming the door.
I had les
s than a second to pull away and leave him, but I shut off the ignition instead.
“What the holy fuck are you doing?” he bellowed, throwing both arms out. He’d been sitting there stewing for the entire drive?
I blinked. Frightened by my week so far and now faced with his temper, mine just up and exploded. “My fucking job,” I yelled back, jumping out of the car and shoving the door closed. This was all just too much. “You have a problem with that?”
He stared at me across the convertible, wheat behind him and an empty road behind me. “Your job?” His voice lowered, deepened. “You’ve been a prosecutor for a lousy month, Anna. You shouldn’t have anything to do with a felony drug case, and you know it.”
He’d checked up on me? That thought shouldn’t be as pleasing as it was. “I’m second chair,” I countered quietly.
His chin lifted, his eyes darkening to a hue that would take me forever to name. “Second chair?” His eyes closed and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Jesus Christ. Claim a conflict of interest and get off the case.”
“Why?” I whispered. That’s why he’d wanted to see me the day before? To get me off the case? “Are you guilty?”
“You owe me,” he countered, his raw toughness such a contrast to the cheery wheat behind him that I wanted to take a picture.
Yet his words penetrated. My stomach rolled over and not in a good way this time. “Yeah. I do,” I said softly. “What do you want?” I asked out of more curiosity than anything else.
“You off the case. Nothing else.” He hooked his thumbs in his threadbare jeans. “Tell me yes.”
Now my chin lifted. “You’ve gotten pretty bossy, Aiden.”
His eyes glimmered for a moment. “Yeah. I don’t suppose you’ve gotten pretty obedient?”
I slowly shook my head.
Disorderly Conduct (The Anna Albertini Files Book 1) Page 8
