Pin

by Hope Stone

  “Today is your lucky day,” he said. “Sit down.”

  I sat down in the seat across from him and pulled it closer to his desk. He tapped his hands against the desk, giving me a look. “We haven’t officially gotten this case yet, but I met with potential clients yesterday.”

  “What is it?” I asked. My mind raced with potential issues I could sink my teeth into.

  “Two sets of parents with runaway teens,” Daniel said. “A fifteen-year-old and a sixteen-year-old, both from La Playa.”

  “So?” I asked. “Teens run away.”

  “Yes, that’s what the police have told the parents,” Daniel said. “But the parents are convinced the teens were coerced by some sort of drug dealing ring.”

  I raised my brows. That was interesting. “What are the parents like? Social status? Any step-parents or divorce?”

  Daniel smiled at my eagerness. He could tell I was chomping at the bit for information.

  “Suburban, no divorce,” he said. “Seemed like nice people. Classy. White picket fence.”

  I let out a low whistle. Now that was interesting. Teens run away from poverty-stricken homes or broken families all the time. Most times, if the parents are divorced, the teen runs away from one parent to be with the other one.

  But a suburban upper middle-class family had much lower rates of runaways. That wasn’t to say that some dark shit can’t lurk behind a nice picket fence. The statistics are just different.

  “Why do they suspect drugs?” I asked.

  “The teens didn’t really know each other, but they went to the same school,” Daniel said. “West La Playa High – and both of them had been getting mixed up with an older, shadier crowd right before they ran away.”

  I furrowed my brow. I was already desperate for more details. I needed the age and personality traits of these teens so I could figure out who they were. What would have motivated them to run away from their safe homes? And how would we get them back?

  “Brennan, they were mixed up with bikers,” Daniel said. “The parents are convinced the biker club is using their kids for drug dealing.”

  My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “Outlaw Souls.”

  “The police poked around, but they didn’t find much,” Daniel said. “But Outlaw Souls is one of the major clubs in the area and let’s face it, guys like that are good at evading police questions.”

  I propped my forearms on Daniel’s desk and chewed my lower lip as I thought. Pin wasn’t like that. At least I didn’t think he was. But it was a big club. What were his so-called brothers like? I had to find out, and I could find out. I just needed to text Pin. Or even Kim. Go out with them at the Blue Dog Saloon again. Keep my eyes open.

  “I want this case,” I whispered.

  “I know,” Daniel said. “The parents are considering another PI, but I think they liked me. I made sure to play up your new connection to the Outlaw Souls.”

  “When will we know for sure?” I asked.

  “They should get back to me this afternoon,” Daniel said. “As soon as they hire us, it’s all yours.”

  I gave Daniel a massive smile. This was exactly what I wanted. A serious case with different factors. Not just some mopy asshole wanting to feel like a real man with some shiny mistress.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I won’t let you down.”

  I stood up and headed for the door. The parents would hire us, I was sure of it. I would start researching drug activity in La Playa right away. Once I had all the information and profiles on the teens – the real work would begin.

  Then I would figure out how to infiltrate the Outlaw Souls.

  Eleven

  Pin

  I never really thought of myself as a fickle guy. Once I made up my mind about something, I stuck to it. I made my choices, and I never looked back or felt regret. I prided myself on sticking to my guns.

  I wasn’t proud anymore.

  Three days after hooking up with Claire, and I was doubting every choice I had made. I had sworn I wouldn’t reach out, but I kept talking myself in circles. Maybe she wasn’t as risky as I thought. Maybe we could keep it casual as long as we were really clear with each other.

  I had gotten a taste with Claire and the day after I convinced myself that just a taste was enough. Now I wanted more. A lot more.

  I had my rules and I had stuck to them for a long time, but I was no masochist. I wasn’t going to suffer forever. Surely one (or several) more nights with Claire couldn’t be dangerous. I would be on guard. I would be careful to keep it casual.

  The only question was how to reach out. I had heard nothing from her, but that made sense. I was the one who had booked it out of her apartment. She probably thought I wasn’t into it. Which was so deeply untrue, it almost made me angry to think of Claire sitting somewhere imagining that I was ambivalent about our night of passion.

  Not that Claire was moping. I hadn’t known her long, but I could tell she was not someone to suffer from low self-esteem. She probably had shrugged me off and decided to move on if I wasn’t interested. So it looked like I was going to have to make the next move.

  As I took care of some accounting business in my apartment, I wracked my head about how to instigate another carnal meeting. The problem was, too much time had passed. If I had texted Claire the day after about how I had a good time, it wouldn’t be so out of the blue for me to text her today asking if she wanted to hang. Also, I had no clue how she had reacted to the night. She could be offended by a booty call. Or disinterested.

  I shoved my work away and stalked across my apartment in frustrated strides. This wasn’t me. I didn’t overthink when it came to women. I never hemmed and hawed over how to phrase a text message. If I wanted to hang out with a woman, I usually just asked. If she said no, so what? There were other women for what I wanted.

  I paused in my pacing and frowned. Why wasn’t that logic working anymore? There were still plenty of other women in La Playa.

  But now the idea of simply reaching out to another past hook-up to see if she was game, or going out to a bar to try and meet someone new had no appeal. In fact, I downright winced at the thought of pursuing anyone but Claire.

  She had gotten under my skin, that was all. We had chemistry. She was like a scratch I needed to itch. Once I was done, I would go back to other women. It wasn’t like I was addicted to her or anything. No one could fall that hard in just one night, especially not me.

  I nodded. It was stupid to torture myself any longer by analyzing it. It was time to take action. Since a sudden text seemed too abrupt, I decided I needed a plan with a bit more subtlety.

  I checked my watch. I was due to meet a few club members across town for a ride that afternoon. Kim was going to be there. All I had to do was ask Kim if she had heard anything from Claire. It was a normal question to ask. I had helped them out the other night. Kim might even volunteer information.

  And if she hadn’t heard from Claire, I would suggest we all go out again. Kim could take the lead with organizing it. If all else fails, I would just tell Kim I was interested in Claire. Kim was cool, she wouldn’t tease. She had probably already guessed we hooked up, it wasn’t like we were being secretive.

  Kim could probably sort the whole thing out for me. She could be a little nosy with Claire, find out where she stood, and then let Claire know what I wanted. Girls were good at that kind of thing.

  Yeah, it was lazy and felt extremely high school to just let Kim play matchmaker, but I didn’t really care. All I cared about was repeating the other night.

  I pulled on my jacket and made for the door, a new spring in my step. This was good. I was going to get in touch with Claire, enjoy a few more wild nights until I was satisfied. I would get her out of my system and then move on with my life.

  The group was planning on just a quick ride around part of our territory to see how things were. Since the minor incident with the Las Balas dealer the other night, we were all on guard. It was unlikely we would spot anythi
ng during daylight hours, but it was good to make our presence known in case Las Balas was planning anything.

  We met up at a gas station in Southern La Playa, just off the highway. I smiled as I pulled up and saw the dark curtain of Kim’s hair. She was chatting with Hawk. I walked over, nodding a greeting to Hawk.

  “Hey, Pin.” Kim flashed me a cunning grin, and I could tell she knew or had assumed everything that had happened after we had parted ways outside the club.

  “Hey,” I said. “How are ya after the other night?”

  “Better than ever,” Kim said. “But I think Claire was the one who got lucky that night, right?”

  She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. I chuckled and gave her a casual shrug.

  “Are you just guessing or have you talked to Claire?” I didn’t want to beat around the bush. We were due to take off on the ride any minute.

  “Claire did text me thanking me again, but I wasn’t going to pester her about you,” Kim said. “But I mean, I have eyes.”

  Kim was using her eyes to study me up and down. “Did you want me to pester her about you?”

  I studied the pavement of the parking lot and willed my voice to stay calm. Like it was no big deal. I didn’t care either way.

  “She’s cool, I’d be down to hang out again,” I said. “I thought maybe you two had plans or something.”

  Kim was silent for a moment, her smooth brown face utterly still. Then her eyes widened so much I thought they were going to fall off her brow. “Oh my god. You are so smitten.”

  “Ok, come on,” I said. “Don’t be such a girl.”

  I turned away as if to head back to my bike. I knew it was a low blow to call Kim out on her gender; we were friends in the first place because I didn’t nag her about being a girl. But I didn’t like the way she was bubbling over with excitement. As if the thing between me and Claire was way more than just sex.

  “Fuck off, Pin,” Kim said.

  She wasn’t angry though. Kim was too excited to be angry, and her hands were clasped in front of her chest. “Claire is, like, the coolest. You should totally go for it. She’s way better than the bimbos you usually hook up with.”

  I shrugged off the insult to my history of bimbos since Kim wasn’t wrong. Who cared if someone had brains if I was only fucking them for a few nights?

  “I dunno,” I said. “We haven’t talked since the other night.”

  “Ok, some advice,” Kim said. I rolled my eyes but nodded to indicate she should continue. “Claire is a straight shooter, she’s not gonna play games with you. So don’t fuck around, Pin. Ask her out.”

  I was saved from answering by Raul hollering that it was time to ride. I was glad of it. I didn’t want to tell Kim that I had no intention of asking Claire out on a real date. Now that she had gotten rid of Trey, I didn’t want her to give me an “All Men Are Trash and Claire Deserved Better” speech.

  If Claire wanted something better, I knew she was more than capable of telling me. I would respect her wishes. I would make it clear that I could only commit to something casual. If she was down for that, then we were great.

  As I pushed down on my bike pedal and the engine roared to life, I avoided thinking about what I would do if Claire wanted something more than casual. If she wanted to do the whole relationship thing. If she asked for commitment.

  I let the world blur by as my bike picked up speed, and I focused on the feeling of riding in a pack. I belonged here. I knew who I was when I rode with the Outlaw Souls. And I was a guy who couldn’t commit to Claire. I would never fully trust any relationship. It wouldn’t be a safe haven for me; it would be an Achilles Heel.

  I was willing to bet that Claire didn’t want a relationship either. Or, if she did, she wasn’t the type to move too fast. She would be willing to keep things trivial to start. As soon as I sensed her getting too clingy, I could slam the brakes.

  That still didn’t solve the issue of how I could reach out. If I buttered Kim up and promised I would be Mr. Good Guy, she would probably be willing to arrange another night out. But I didn’t relish the idea of using Kim as a middleman. She was way too much of a meddler.

  After we had gone all the way over the section of the territory and found nothing too out of the ordinary, we pulled into another gas station lot to discuss moves. Raul and Hawk wanted to go grab some food, and I was about to agree when I pulled my phone out. And saw a text.

  From Claire.

  I grinned and opened it up.

  Hey Pin! I had fun the other night.

  Was wondering if you wanted to hang again tonight?

  I resisted pumping my fist in the air. It was my lucky day. And it was just like Claire to not be awkward or beat around the bush with stilted conversation or vague questions. She wasn’t asking for a date either, I noted. If she wanted to go out, she would have said that. She wanted to “hang.” That was for sure my speed.

  I pulled off my riding gloves with my teeth so I could type my response:

  I’d be down, I’ve had a busy few days, does take-out and TV sound good to you?

  I told the guys I had to head home to take care of some things and leapt back on my bike. I purposely avoided eye contact with Kim. I was scared she would read something in my face. Now that I didn’t need Kim to communicate with Claire, I didn’t really want her big nose in my business.

  By the time I had made it home, Claire had texted back:

  Sounds perfect! Wanna come to mine around 7?

  Twelve

  Claire

  Daniel had not been kidding. It was a giant case.

  The parents had chosen our firm and I had officially been assigned the case only two days ago, but I already had a dozen pages of notes in my leather-bound notebook. I liked to keep all the information in one place and write it down by hand.

  It helped me parse through the details and figure out how everything connected. Veronica said I had aggressively neat architect handwriting, with each letter defined like the way engineers write on their diagrams.

  I checked my watch. I had an hour before Pin was supposed to arrive. I took a breath and read through all the information I had gathered. I needed to let it soak in, so I could be on high alert for anything Pin said about Outlaw Souls. But I also couldn’t overstudy. I had to act natural around Pin and not ask strange questions. Not until he trusted me more, anyway.

  The runaway teens in question were named Zoe Hammond and Hector Elenes. The Hammonds and Elenes hadn’t been friends, but when both their children packed bags and fled in the night within a month, the parents had found each other. Their stories had shocking similarities.

  A few months before running away, Zoe had started dating a new guy. Someone older, according to her friends. The Hammonds had no idea. They only knew that their sixteen-year-old daughter was growing secretive and coming home late and telling lies about where she had been. They were concerned, but figured she was just going through a bit of a rebellious phase.

  Mrs. Hammond had teared up when I met with her. She blamed herself. She should have noticed something was wrong with her daughter. Her husband had displayed more anger. Like he wanted to get his hands around the throat of the guy who had seduced Zoe and somehow convinced her to run away from her home.

  Hector had always been a bit rebellious. Nothing serious, but he was a jovial guy who liked to stay out late with his friends. He broke his curfew a lot. Got in trouble for going to parties with alcohol. But it was all normal high school stuff, his parents assured me.

  Until he got into bikes. He started hanging out with a new crowd. Bikers. He would be out at all hours and come home wasted. His parents had yelled and tried to discipline him, but that only made it worse.

  Both kids had packed their bags and left notes. They had taken money and IDs which was why the cases were unlikely to be kidnappings. Zoe Hammond and Hector Elenes had walked out of their own homes, of their own volition.

  To be frank, it wasn’t exactly a situation that would have
stirred the police into action. There wasn’t much they could do. They could ask questions, dig around a bit, but if a sixteen-year-old didn’t want to be found, it was easy to disappear. And then in two years, that runaway wouldn’t be a kid anymore. It was their life to mess up if they wanted to.

  The Hammonds and the Elenes, however, were convinced that something was wrong. They knew their children wouldn’t have run away. Even friends had come forward to say that the kids hadn’t intended to stay away for good. Even more concerning, no friend had received texts or calls from Zoe or Hector. The police had tried to track their phones, but both of them had been turned off and discarded.

  That sent off my alarms more than anything else. A runaway who was angry at their parents was one thing. A teenager who tossed their phone and didn’t so much as text their friends? That was quite another.

  I had one whole page that listed Hector and Zoe’s closest school friends according to their parents. I was going to want to chat with a few of them, especially Zoe’s good friend Liz. Girls that age told each other everything. If Zoe was involved with a biker, Liz was going to know details. I was willing to bet that I could get more out of her than the police had.

  All Liz had told the police was that Zoe had been seeing an older guy. Zoe had told Liz she was thinking of running away on one occasion, but Liz had never thought Zoe was serious. Liz was concerned for her friend, so I doubted she was trying to hide information. But she probably didn’t even know how much knowledge she had. She had probably figured the police wouldn’t care about the random gossip from a teenager’s sleepover.

  I would chat with some of Hector’s friends too. Perhaps a smile and a wink from me could get some overeager kid to give me all the information he could think of. But something told me that Liz was the key to this case.