CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Cody—
“What are we gonna do?” I ask, looking around the table of my brothers in the meeting room at the clubhouse.
“Could it be Snake and his buddy?” Crash asks.
“She says it wasn’t Snake. His build was different.”
Cole glances at Wolf for confirmation.
“Those two are still tracking on I40. They’ve been running up and down the interstate all week.”
Crash frowns. “You don’t find that odd?”
Wolf shrugs and looks at Cole, who seems to consider it, then leans forward in his chair. “Check it right now.”
Wolf rolls his eyes but pulls out his phone.
While he’s doing that, Cole stares at Shane. “What do we know about this manager, Ray?”
“I’ve got his address. No one in the restaurant saw him after seven last night.”
Cole looks at me. “Which is just after he realized Heather saw him stealing?”
“Yeah,” I confirm. “She said it sounded just like his voice, and he wore the same cologne.”
“Son-of-a-bitch. Okay, let’s go find this motherfucker.” Cole bangs the gavel, and we all troop down the hall.
Most of our crew heads out the door, but I make a beeline for the bar and pull Heather to me, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. You should get some sleep.”
“Where are you going?” she asks, gripping my arm.
I can’t tell her and instead meet the prospect’s eyes behind the bar. “Stay alert, prospect.”
“Yes, sir.”
Crash whistles from the door at another prospect. “Come lock the gate behind us.”
When I reach my bike, I overhear Wolf talking to Cole.
“The tracker shows they’re heading north now on I15.”
“Into Vegas?” Cole frowns.
“Looks that way.”
Cole points at Wolf. “You and Cajun stay back and watch the clubhouse. Call Daytona and share the location specifics. I need him to get eyes on them. Go.”
Wolf and Cajun jog back to the clubhouse.
As we ride out, I feel better knowing it's more than prospects here to keep Heather safe. Some of the other ol’ ladies are on their way. TJ called Gigi asking if she could come and stay with Heather. I know my girl is in good hands.
Now, I can just focus on making Ray fucking Callahan bleed.
Twenty minutes later, we roll up at his house. It’s a small duplex on the east side. The place looks dark and quiet.
Billy bangs a fist on the door, and when we get no answer, Cole gives a nod, and he boots it in. Reckless and Shine are at his back with weapons drawn as we cross the threshold. They check every room.
“It’s clear. No sign of him,” Shine barks.
Reckless comes out of the bedroom. “Looks like he left in a hurry. Drawers are pulled out and clothes are scattered.
Cole kicks a chair over. “We need to find this motherfucker. Now!”
Crash pulls his phone out. “I’ll find out from the last owner everything he knows about the guy.” He stalks outside.
Ten minutes later, he returns. “Says his mother lives in LA, and he had a girlfriend who worked for Corleone’s.”
“The Italian place on Fourth Ave?” Cole frowns.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.”
We roll across town to Corleone’s, and Cole and Crash go inside. Five minutes later, a waitress comes out the back door with them.
“Tell us about Ray.” Cole crosses his arms, his boots spread.
“What about him?”
“You heard from him lately?”
She shrugs and lights a cigarette, like she’s a tough cookie not answering the Evil fucking Dead’s president.
Crash moves to her, yanks the cigarette from her mouth, and flings it. “Answer the man.”
“Okay, he called. Wanted to know if my father still had an RV sitting down in San Lucas.”
“And?” Cole barks.
“I told him Dad stopped renting it out last year. The place is run down, and it’s just sitting there empty. Dad’s just trying to sell the land now.”
“What’s the address?” Crash snaps.
“It’s between San Lucas and San Ardo. It’s on Billings Rd, off Hwy 101. It’s across the road from the only house out there with a bunch of palm trees in the yard. Who puts palm trees in their yard out in the freaking country? Insane.”
“Is there a gate? Can you see the place from the road?” Cole asks.
“No, there are rolling hills and, yeah, there’s a red cattle gate. Dad keeps it padlocked.”
“What’s the lot number?”
She gives Crash the address, and I put it in my phone, pull up the satellite, then use the roadside imagery. I turn the phone toward her. “This the place?”
“Yep, that’s it. What did Ray do this time that you guys are after him?”
“He stole from us,” Crash snaps. “No one steals from us.”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “What a stupid fuck. Be careful, he has some guns. Three back when we were together.”
Cole steps in her face. “Do not call and warn him, understand me?”
“Sure.”
“I track him down, and I find your number in his cell as a recent call, I’m coming back for you, and it won’t be pretty.”
She raises her hands. “I won’t call him. I swear. I don’t even like the guy.”
Two hours later, we roll up the road and stop on a hill about a mile from it. There’s a full moon, and the valley is illuminated.
“There’s the house with the palms,” Crash points out.
Across the road, we spot the cattle gate, which has a busted chain hanging off it, but we can’t see the property beyond.
“Let’s walk in from here. I don’t want the sound of our bikes to give us away.”
We shut our engines down and push our Harleys off the road behind some shrubs, then hike the rest of the way across the fields.
At the end of a long gravel driveway sits a rusty Winnebago, a light shining inside like the glow from a phone.
Cole studies the landscape. A shed sits behind the RV, and next to it is parked a Toyota sedan.
“That his car?” our president asks.
“I don’t know,” Crash replies. “Gotta be, right?”
“We go in with guns drawn, but nobody shoots, understand? Gotta make sure it’s him.”
We surround the place, moving quietly in the dark night. Crash tests the door and the handle turns. Billy and Shine rush in with me behind them.
Ray is eating a takeout pizza at a small dinette and scrolling on his phone. He drops it and tries to slide out of the booth, but he’s trapped.
Cole follows us in and puts the barrel of his 9mm to Ray’s forehead. “Hey, buddy. Funny finding you here of all places.”
“That fucking bitch. She told you, didn’t she?”
“I wouldn’t worry about who told us what.”
“Look, it was just a few hundred dollars to make my rent. Just a twenty here or there. I swear, that’s all.”
Reckless finds the ski mask and holds it up. “Lookie what we have here.”
“Just some twenties, huh? Bullshit,” I snap. “You broke into the apartment above Lucky’s and put your hands on my woman, motherfucker.”
His eyes are cold, like he has no feelings for anything but himself. I’ve seen his kind before. He’s beyond redemption.
Cole looks at me. “He’s all yours, Cody.”
I drag him outside and beat him senseless, then Cole comes out and tosses me what looks like a length of electrical cord. “End it.”
He’s unconscious when I wrap it around his neck and strangle the life out of him.
“What are we doing with the body?” Shine asks.
There’s a small pond at the back of the property glittering in the moonlight. Cole lifts his chin to it. “Cody, check how deep that is.”
I pull off my boots and vest and gun, then wade in until I’m over my head.
Cole nods and motions me back, then turns to TJ and Billy.
“Put him in his car and push it into that pond.”
My brothers all help. Once it’s done, we stand and watch. Soon, the bubbles from the car stop rising.
By the time we make it back to the highway, two squad cars fly past us heading south, then make a U-turn and race up on us, lights flashing.
Cole signals us over to the shoulder, and we all roll to a stop.
The officers climb from their cars, guns drawn and ordering us face-down in the gravel.
An hour later, it’s three in the morning, and we’re all being held in lockup. Apparently, someone called in suspicious activity and saw a ‘bunch of bikers’ on the road late at night.
It’s almost noon before the club’s lawyer gets us released. They don’t even press charges, because they’ve got nothing to charge us with… that they know of.
I’m exhausted and stiff from sitting on a hard bench all night.
By the time we get our bikes out of impound its midafternoon. I try calling Heather, but it goes to voicemail.
We stretch and prepare to climb on our bikes for the two-hour ride back to San Jose, happy to kiss this pissant town’s police department goodbye, when Crash’s phone goes off, and he answers.
“Yeah?” He listens a minute, then looks at Cole.
“Daytona and Trick caught up with the trackers last night. Been tryin’ to get ahold of us.
They were both stuck on the side of a UPS semi. ”
“Son of a bitch,” Cole hisses. “Get everyone to the clubhouse. We’re going back under lockdown.
Crash snaps the order to Wolf, who says he’s on it.
“Let’s roll. Now!”
I stand there, my clothes barely dry from last night’s dip, with cold fear building inside me. Snake wants Heather, and she’s two hours away from me, and we don’t know where the fuck he is anymore.