Road Tripped: Satan's Devils MC Utah #1

by Manda Mellett

  “You ever thought you’d be kidnapped as you were a Satan’s Devil, Road?” Snatcher asks.

  When I’m about to reply, of course I didn’t, I realise he’s got a point. And Swift, in particular, would believe she was invincible.

  There’s a knock at the door. When it’s opened, Igor appears.

  “I’ve found something on the security feed. I sent it through to here.” He nods at the remote still in Bolt’s hand.

  “What we looking at, Prospect?” Preacher asks, his face lined. He waves for Igor to stay.

  “Wait a sec. Watch here.” Clearly used to the devices in here, Igor uses a laser pointer, aiming it onto a taller building a couple of streets over. “Keep looking here. There it is, see?”

  There was a definite glint from the roof. Someone using binoculars, perhaps?

  “Brute’s gone to check it out,” Igor says. “It was from last week, so unlikely he’ll find much.”

  “Good thinking, checking it out. But that’s how they could have seen Swift coming in and out, and assumed she was a club whore not a member.”

  It’s at that point when Pip re-enters the room. He asks Igor to round everyone up again. When they arrive, things finally start coming together.

  Pip kicks it off. “Okay. So I’ve spoken to Dengra. When the baby was born, Saul Kincaid turned up. Dengra wouldn’t let him near the kid at first. Obviously he was suspicious as hell, but Saul vowed he had no connection to his brother, that they’d parted ways some years before. But he’d somehow heard he’d fathered a boy shortly before he’d died. As he had no remaining family and seemed to have a good job and no connection to crime, he allowed Saul to see the baby. From then he became a doting uncle. He showed no inappropriate moves toward his daughter, and to be honest, reading between the lines, she blamed him, her father, for getting the man she loved killed. I think it’s fair to say that Saul Kincaid befriended her as he wanted revenge. He was a regular visitor to their house, then just disappeared. They haven’t seen him for a few weeks which is unusual.”

  “How would he have found you, Prez?” Snatcher asks.

  Pip’s face darkens but shakes his head.

  Duty takes over. “Been looking into Saul Kincaid. He wasn’t the angel he led Dengra to believe. All the background information he provided had been fake. He hadn’t been an upstanding citizen working a decent job, he’d been in the pen. But somehow was able to fake evidence to show otherwise. Someone created a history for him which I managed to find. It was quite impressive. On a first look, it would have fooled anyone.”

  “So,” Pip resumes as things start falling into place. “He either has skills himself, or has a friend who can work with data. Dengra did say he was pretty interested in the story of how the girl had been rescued. When I asked him outright, he said he saw no reason for not giving the details of how they contacted us. Said Saul genuinely seemed unsurprised his brother had met a bad end, and that he was grateful he’d been stopped before the kid had disappeared. I presume that’s how he traced us. The daughter knew what I looked like and had reason to hate me. Whoever works with data might have searched for my image.”

  “And he thought as we were in the business of rescuing women, the best way to get your attention was to threaten a ‘club girl’.” Snatcher growls.

  “I looked into Christian McGregor, the man who’s DNA we found. He was in the pen at the same time as Saul Kincaid.” Stormy gives that snippet of information.

  “Keep looking, Stormy. See who else was in there, who was in cahoots with the pair.”

  I notice Pip looks tired and know he must be feeling responsible. But being closer to naming a culprit, doesn’t mean we’re closer to finding Swift. “Now we think we know who,” I ask, “how do we go about rescuing Swift?”

  “Ain’t that the million-dollar question,” Stormy grumbles. “Road’s right, that’s our focus. What have you dug up, Duty?”

  “Fuck all at present. We’ve found where he was, which was Washington, but there’s no trail from there.”

  “He’s local now,” I tell them, pinching the brow of my nose. “I hate to say this, but that finger was fresh, couldn’t have been taken off long or been brought far.”

  “Courier collected it from the bus station,” Snatcher confirms. “So Road’s right, he’s holding her locally.”

  Duty raises his chin. “Gears is searching for recent rentals. He might turn something up.”

  “Look for something with a basement or cellar,” I offer. “That will narrow it down a lot.”

  “If I offer myself in exchange, there’s no guarantee that they’ll direct me to where they’re holding Swift.” Pip seems to be pondering what to do. “This isn’t like last time when Kincaid was able to subdue one young girl by himself. This time there are four men, and they could split up.”

  “There’s no benefit to you giving yourself up, Pip. I agree, you might be sent elsewhere and they’ll simply kill Swift. Give us some time to work the Kincaid angle. We can rethink if that doesn’t work.” Snatcher is talking sense. I want Swift back, but don’t see how Pip sacrificing himself would achieve that.

  I sit, listening, thinking, all the while worried about Swift and what she’s going through. Is she having panic attacks because she can’t hear anything? They all seem to think she’s strong, that nothing will faze her, but I’ve seen her in the dead of the night. I know about PTSD and how debilitating it can be. Not being able to hear what’s being said, not being able to relax and sleep because someone might sneak up on her is going to be terrifying, however capable she is of fighting anyone off.

  “Got him,” Stormy suddenly announces, looking up from his laptop. “The big guy? It’s a fella called Weston Hughes. He was released from the pen shortly before Kincaid. He was in for aggravated assault. He’s a heavyweight boxer, or was.” He turns his laptop around. On it is the photo of a fucker I wouldn’t want to come across in a dark alley at night. Or daylight for that matter. No wonder Swift pointed him out.

  “You sure it’s him?”

  “Can’t be certain. But it’s a coincidence. He’s also missed his last appointment with his probation officer.”

  It’s Duty’s turn now to point to his screen. He reads something, then states, “Okay, Gears has found there have been six rentals in the past two weeks with basements or cellars.”

  “Let’s go check them out.”

  “Not so fast, Road.” Pip’s eyes narrow. “Where are they, Duty? Can you narrow it down at all?”

  Duty presses a few keys and the big screen on the wall lights up behind him. “This is the first. Rented by a Ms Masterson.”

  It’s a smart little two-storey house halfway down a residential road, it looks old. More modern houses are close by.

  “Swift didn’t say she’d seen a woman.” Thor is shaking his head dismissively. “And the neighbours would be too close. Too many people to notice comings and goings.”

  “Risky, I agree. Next one, Duty.” Pip waves his hand.

  The next one is a farmhouse along a dirt track. A bit rundown, the sort of place that would be an ideal setting for a horror movie. Just the sight of it makes us all sit up straighter.

  “That looks hopeful. Who rented it?”

  “Father and son, a Max Haven Senior and Junior. Mind you, that’s a stretch.” Duty pulls up two pictures. “Here are their drivers’ license photos.” He puts up a photo showing a man in his sixties.

  “Senior,” Bolt states.

  Ignoring the comment, Duty puts up the next photo. It’s a man two decades older, and makes a comment of his own. “This is Max Haven Senior.”

  While others sigh or shake their heads, Pip observes, “It could still be a front.”

  “Worth sending the drone up,” Stormy suggests. “See who’s really there.”

  I tap the table with my fingers. “We’re dealing with white supremacists. I hate to say it, but they’re just the type. Could be they’re providing cover for Kincaid.”

  “Any
links or connections?”

  “Working on it, Prez.” Duty frowns.

  “I still say the drone could get information. Numbers of cars for a start.”

  “Drone won’t see fuck if they’re holed up with Swift. If they need supplies, one of the Havens could go get them. And look at the barns. If there are extra cars, they’ll be hidden away and hard to spot.”

  “I think it’s worth paying a visit with the drone and then going inside if necessary.” Prez accepts Duty’s observations. “But let’s go through the others you got first.”

  Instead of thinking we’re getting somewhere, I’m getting more frustrated. “They could be squatting. They might not have rented a place legally.”

  “We know that, Road. But for now, this is all we’ve got. We could sit here playing with our dicks, ride around aimlessly not having a clue where we’re going, or get out searching possible locations.” Snatcher doesn’t look happy.

  I stare at him for a moment, then have to admit he’s got a point. I suppose doing something is better than nothing.

  “Next location,” Pip instructs.

  That’s a bust, the next is a possible. After viewing them all, we end up with four where, if, and it’s a big if, if, they’ve actually rented a place where they might be holding Swift. Out of them all, I tend to think the Haven’s farmhouse is the most likely. It seems I’m not the only one.

  “Let’s take a drone and get it sent up to see what’s going on at that farmhouse. Stormy, Preacher and Thor will go.”

  “I’d rather go alone,” Stormy complains, at the same time as I raise my hand.

  “I want in on this.”

  “No, to you both!” Pip thunders. “Stormy, you’ll need back up. If she’s there, you can provide sniper cover and Preacher and Thor will approach. Outside look only.” He glares at Stormy and ignores me. “I want Snatcher and Piston at the second location, Rascal and Cowboy at the third. The fourth needs checking, but we’ve all agreed it’s unlikely. It’s also further away. Road and Bolt you can ride out there. You all look, listen and learn. If any of you think you’ve seen something, make contact damn fast, and we,” he indicates himself, Duty and Honor, “will be ready to ride. I’ll also get Grinch, Goofy and Mystic on standby. They won’t want to miss out on this.”

  I think the one I’m supposed to head for is an absolute waste of time. The fact that Pip is sending me there suggests he too thinks there’ll be damn all to find. I get the feeling he doesn’t want me to be the one finding Swift.

  “It’s an Airbnb, Prez,” I complain. “Look at it, it’s a cute country house by a lake. It’s got to be in high demand with vacation types. I’m certain we’re not going to find kidnappers there.”

  “And you know this, how?” Pip challenges. “Look, Road, it has to be excluded. It was rented in the right time span. Just ride out, check it and see. That’s all we can do now. I’m not ready to dismiss it without giving it a look.”

  Bolt’s meeting my eyes with a sympathetic look. Like me, he doesn’t seem hopeful.

  “Until we’ve got a location, we’ll stay back in case of further communications with the kidnappers. Preach, everyone goes out without their cuts, but with Kevlar vests and full communication. You know the drill.”

  “Right, Prez,” the sergeant-at-arms agrees.

  “Surveillance only right now. If you find evidence of where Swift’s being held, you wait, observe, but don’t engage, not until you have backup. We’re up against at least four men,” Pip reminds us, his eyes scanning each man in turn. “The important thing is to bring her home safe. Any rescue has got to be coordinated carefully.” He levels his stare at Stormy. “Which means no one’s to go rogue.”

  I check the details again. The vacation rental I’m being sent to is fifty miles away. The farmhouse Thor, Preacher and Stormy are heading to is much closer, and it’s likely Swift will be rescued, or, fuck I hope not, killed, before I can get there.

  My eyes glare daggers at Pip, but he turns away, and starts having a few private words with Snatcher. Everyone else gets up to leave.

  I can’t keep silent. I stand and approach him. He sees me, turns away from his VP and raises an eyebrow.

  “It’s fuckin’ obvious you want me out of the way,” I rasp out. “What, you don’t trust me? I know you probably work as a team, but I can fight. I want to be there if we find Swift. Pip, reconsider, please.”

  25

  Road…

  “I don’t want you out of the fuckin’ way,” Pip snarls, standing so fast I take a step back. I notice Snatcher takes the opportunity to leave as Pip’s finger begins to poke at my chest. “You’re the fastest fuckin’ rider I’ve got along with Bolt and have the fastest bikes if you take that ZX14R. You can be there and back fast. I use the skills my team has got, Road, and riding happens to be yours. I’m trusting you with this. I’m sending you and Bolt out as I know you’ve both got fuckin’ brains and aren’t afraid to use them. If you find trouble, you’ll assess it, and won’t engage. I know you don’t expect to find anything, but eliminating possibilities is just as important, and this place is interesting enough for me to want to check it out.”

  “It’s only a two-week rental,” I remind him. “Which ends the day after tomorrow.”

  “So? They could plan for this to be over by then. The timescale’s not impossible.” When I roll my eyes, he continues, “They’re not going to let her go, Road. I’ve been in this business long enough to know that. We’re up against time.”

  “You reckon they might move her, sell her or something before we find her?”

  “It’s a risk, Road.” When his eyes meet mine, it’s clear to see how much he’s worrying.

  I’d assumed Swift would be held until the kidnappers had gotten what they wanted, which seems to be Pip. I turn away, forcing my mind away from the possibility they might have already harmed her again, making more videos to release in the future.

  I walk away from Pip, snatch the piece of paper which Duty had written the location of the address I’m being sent to check out up off the table, and walk out.

  “Road. C’mere.” Preacher’s voice calls and summons me to a room I hadn’t entered before. He opens a closet and pulls out some body armour, holding it out so I can try it on. As before, it fits. He then opens a locked drawer and tells me to select one of the array of handguns I see there. I choose a Glock, a model I’m used to, and weigh it in my hands.

  Giving a nod of approval at my selection, he then hands me the right ammunition. “Your leg going to hold up, okay?”

  I hadn’t actually given my damaged limb much thought today, finding Swift had been more important than worrying about myself. “Yeah, I’ll strap it up before I go.” My tone is offhand. Now he’s mentioned it, it’s aching, but I haven’t got time to worry about that.

  “Pip’s right.” His sharp eyes sum up my mood. “We’ve got to check everything out. Go to the old clubhouse—Bolt will show you the way in case you can’t remember—pick up the Kawasaki. Mystic will already have fixed it up with a place to store the Glock and ammo.” At my unenthusiastic nod, he pushes at my arm. “Sooner you go, sooner you’ll be back and hopefully one of us will have found Swift.” He purses his lips. “If you want my opinion, I doubt we’ll find them at any of the rentals, but we still got to check them out.”

  “I just—”

  “You got a thing for her.” His words are accompanied by an expression of sympathy. “Look, Swift doesn’t hook up with members of the team, just to warn you. She’s a different type of woman, more like one of us than I thought possible. Not saying you can’t try your hand when we get her back, just warning you she’ll be a tough nut to crack. And it might be your nuts that crack before she does.”

  I know all that.

  He’s right in everything he’s said, not the least that I’ll have no chance with Swift. A man like me would only ever be able to dream of someone like her. He’s also right that the faster we get going, the sooner we can return.
This is a wild goose chase, I can feel it in my gut. If she’s being held in any of the premises we’ve identified so far, I just know the farmhouse is the most likely. It even looks the part for fuck’s sake. It hadn’t escaped me that’s where Pip’s sending the enforcer and the sergeant-at-arms. But Pip’s also correct, on that ZX14R I can outrun anything on the road, and I’ll be twisting that throttle to get to this place and back again. Bolt, I’ve already seen, has a Ninja which I presume he knows how to ride.

  Having detoured back to my room to leave my cut and strap my leg, I waste no time returning downstairs. Then, alongside Bolt, I ride my own bike to the old clubhouse where I find Mystic crouching beside the bike I’m hoping to ride.

  “Problem?” My brow creases as I ask him.

  “Nah.” Mystic stands, rubbing grease off his hands with an already dirty rag which he then places in his back pocket. “Just checking. You’ll find her good, Brother.”

  Casting a fond eye back toward my parked-up Harley, I take the key for the Kawasaki and carefully balance as I swing my leg over the saddle. I start the engine. While the sound isn’t throaty, nor has the deep throbbing unique and distinctive pop-pop-pause of a Harley as the pistons fire, it sounds powerful, and the engine vibrates between my thighs like a horse raring to be let loose on the gallops. Despite my disheartening feelings about my mission and my concerns about Swift, part of me is eager to have a chance to ride this machine.

  “Good luck, Brother.” Mystic slaps my Kevlar-covered back, then steps away.

  Feeling naked without my cut, but agreeing if we’re breaking speed limits I want no identifying insignia on me, I raise my chin at Bolt, then kick down into first, gently let out the clutch, giving the throttle just a light squeeze. The bike moves off smoothly, screaming its power with a snarling shriek.