Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Keno—
Utah and I stand in Rock’s office at the clubhouse.
Darko, his VP sits in a chair across from his president.
While Utah talks, my eyes scan the room.
It’s a nice office with a stone fireplace to the right, a seating area across from it, and huge windows behind Rock’s desk overlooking a fantastic view.
My mind drifts, the image of Maggie flooding my vision.
She’s the last thing I expected to find in this town.
I still remember the look on her face the night I left Chalmette.
When she saw my things packed in the back of my truck, the hurt was plain.
The devastation, the disappointment, the panic.
I never wanted to let her down, but that’s what I did.
I lied to her face, promising I wouldn’t leave that night, then did exactly what I promised I wouldn’t.
Getting into that truck and driving away was the hardest thing I ever did.
Watching her in the rearview mirror, staring after my retreating taillights ripped my heart out.
I’d heard through the grapevine she’d left town not long after I had, which had shocked the hell out of me. My father said her family came looking for her at his house. Derek had even texted me, asking if she’d come to me or if I knew where she was.
I’d worried about her for months but never heard another word.
To finally find her here, of all places, is crazy.
Sometimes I think looking for her is one of the reasons I became a nomad in the first place. It freed me from being bound to a single place and state.
I’ve found myself searching crowds for her wherever I’ve been. Any woman her height and with that honey blonde hair color.
She was as shocked to see me as I was to see her.
When Utah is finished filling Rock in, Prez drags a hand over his jaw.
“Goddamn it. Those assholes are fucking with my last nerve. Why the hell can’t we find them, Utah?” he barks.
Utah’s arms lift and drop. “We scour the city every time this happens. It’s like they’re fucking ghosts. I don’t understand how they manage to slip away every time.”
“They’ve hit practically every damn place in town. They shot our fucking VP.” He slams his fist on the desk. “I want their fucking heads.”
“I don’t get it,” Utah says. “We’ve had people watching every major road out of town. They never see these guys racing off.”
“Maybe they’re not slipping away,” Darko drawls quietly.
“What are you talking about?” Rock asks.
“I’m saying maybe they’re local. Maybe they don’t flee. Maybe they just hide out somewhere close.”
“So, they’re Batman? They’ve got some bush that drops, and they drive through a secret tunnel?” Rock smirks.
“I’m being serious, smartass. There are lots of places they could go. They roll into a parking garage or a warehouse or the garage of any house in town for that matter.”
“Okay. It’s possible. Let’s say they’re locals. Why haven’t we seen them riding around?” Rock stares at Darko.
“Maybe they don’t use those bikes. I’m sure they don’t dress in black with ski masks when they tool around town,” Darko says.
“If we could get our hands on one of their bikes, we could trace it,” Rock says.
Utah folds his arms. “They’re careful. They always seem to hit at the right time and place, and the police are always miles away.”
“Well, I can’t put a guy at every business in town.” Rock drags a hand through his hair in frustration. “Got any ideas?”
“Maybe just specific places,” I suggest, speaking for the first time.
Rock’s gaze cuts to me. “Go on.”
“The Gaslight has a prime location to start with.”
“I thought sure just the fact that they had a club connection would keep them off these guys’ list. Apparently not.” Rock leans on his elbows.
“Let me check the place out. Maybe if I hang around there, I can spot something,” I offer.
“You plan on stickin’ around, Nomad?” Rock asks.
“Until we catch these assholes, yeah. I’ll stick around for the fun.” I flex my fist. “Nobody shoots a Royal Bastard and gets away with it, let alone your damn VP.”
He studies me. “You’ve got a reputation, Keno.”
I fold my arms. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“You get the job done. They say you’re as determined as a dog with a bone when you zero in on something.”
“Guess that’s true.” I rock on my heels. “This chick from the bar… tell me about her.”
Rock’s chair creaks as he leans back. “I made a deal with her several years ago. She came to me bold as brass and asked me to become her partner and invest in the bar with her. At first, I didn’t take it all that seriously, but after looking into it, I realized she was right; that place could be a real moneymaker.
You can’t ask for a better location. I haven’t put much into the place financially, what with everything that’s been going down with the club, but my intentions were to give it a refresh this summer, maybe get some of the more upscale business.
That place down the street is raking it in.
Anyway, she’s been doin’ a good job running the place with the resources she has.
Turned it around big time from almost going under during COVID. Works her butt off, to be honest.”
I nod. “Good to know.”
He reaches into a drawer and tosses me a set of keys. “I want these assholes.”
I catch them in midair and nod. “She filed a police report. That may be a problem.”
“Yeah, we’ll deal with that if it happens. See what you can find out.”
“I’m on it.”
His eyes bore into mine. “This is personal for me, Keno.”
“I get that.”
The meeting wraps up, and Utah and I walk out to the main room and the bar.
My fellow nomad, Shack—the brother I’ve been traveling more roads with than I can remember—twists on his stool.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“Gonna stick around a little longer.”
“We’ve been here since November. I thought when spring broke, we’d be hitting the road.”
“Said I’d try to help find the assholes who’ve been robbing places in town. Last night they hit the Gaslight. Rock has an investment in the place. Between that and them shooting Darko, he wants their heads on a platter.”
Shack pulls the stir stick out of his mouth. “Don’t blame him.” His eyes sweep over me. “There somethin’ else?”
The man can read me like a book, so there’s no use denying it. “Actually, there is. The chick who runs the Gaslight…”
“What about her?”
“I know her.”
Shack grins. “Someone from your past?”
“Something like that.”
“Which one is she? I know all the women from your past.”
“You don’t know this one.”
“Huh. She mean something to you?”
“She does.”
“Well, this should be interesting. Never thought I’d see the day a woman pulled you from the road.”
“No one’s pulling me from the road.”
“Guess I’ll stick around, then. The road’s not as much fun when you haven’t got a brother at your back.”
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
He shrugs. “I like this town. The fresh mountain air. Good as any to put down roots.”
“Who said anything about roots? This is just temporary. You know me. I’m a rolling stone. Never happy in one place for long. That itch to leave eventually hits.”
“Well, as long as you’re here, guess I’ll stay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. This chapter’s got some good brothers in it. I think I fit right in.”
I laugh at that. “Shack, you don’t fit in anywhere.”
He gives me a goofy grin and lifts his longneck. “Here’s to having a brother who sees through all my bullshit.”
I clink my bottle to his. “Amen.”
“Like I said…” His eyes follow a woman walking through the clubhouse. “The scenery around here is real pretty.”
I shake my head. “Once a dog, always a dog.”
“Ruff.”
He gets up and follows her to the jukebox.
“Just make sure she’s not some brother’s ol’ lady, Shack,” I call after him, then sip my beer and make a plan. I figure I’ll give it until midnight, then head into town.