Chapter 4
Tanner was still riding the high from his morning run with April when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He and Sinclair were just leaving the coffee shop from Arlo J’s receipt.
They hadn’t spent five minutes inside before the manager told them that the woman who worked the register the day Arlo J’s receipt was dated had the day off, and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.
And of course, the place didn’t have any cameras.
But even that setback couldn’t touch Tanner’s good mood.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and answered a call from Luke.
“Any news on the Arlo J murder?” Luke asked, skipping any pleasantries.
“On my way to the motorcycle club now.” Tanner seriously hoped to have better luck there.
So far, this was a cold case, which didn’t bode well for the city of Dallas.
The Deathly Hollow MC was known for their violent retaliations.
If Tanner didn’t make an arrest soon, all hell could break loose, and that was the last thing anyone wanted.
“Need some back up?” Luke offered.
Tanner considered it, but decided against it. “I think I’ll be alright. I’ve got Sinclair with me. We’re hoping to go in low profile. Talk to some of their members, get a better idea of who was where when it went down.”
“Sinclair?” Luke asked.
“Yeah, you remember Ethan Sinclair. I think you guys met -”
“Oh, sure, I remember Ethan,” Luke said. “Listen, do me a favor though and call in a few more patrol units for backup. The last time one of us went after an MC underprepared, it didn’t go so well.”
Understatement of the century. Tanner would never forget that day as long as he lived.
He was one of the first ones at Luke’s side, cutting away the restraints that had his friend tied up and cowering on the ground like some hogtied animal.
Just the memory sickened him. But this was different.
Tanner wasn’t trying to unearth evidence on the club.
He was actually trying to help them. One of their own was killed, and they needed him as much as he needed them to solve this murder.
“I think we’re good, but I’ll keep you posted. Have you heard from Blake? How are he and Skyla doing?”
“I sent him a text message about an hour ago. He hasn’t answered. Though I’m not surprised.” There was a long pause. “I don’t know how anyone recovers from something like that. I know people do. I just don’t know how.” Luke’s voice cracked, and Tanner instantly thought of his mom.
“Time helps,” Tanner said. “Not completely, but I guess that’s all anyone can really give someone who loses a baby.”
“You sound like someone who’s been through it,” Luke said, tentatively.
“Not me,” Tanner said, not really wanting to go into detail.
Luke picked up on his hesitancy and easily changed the subject back to work stuff before ending the call. Tanner radioed for two back units to meet them at the clubhouse, then discussed with Sinclair the various questions they’d ask the MC members as they drove.
When they pulled into the parking lot, two patrol units in unmarked vehicles were already waiting for them.
At first glance, the place looked rough. The old, three-story building had several shingles missing on the roof, and the siding was in need of a paint job. The building seemed to be divided into four parts, with the second and third floors being used as residences.
The first part of the ground floor was a dimly lit bar, with outdoor seating and a cracked flat screen on the far wall playing the highlights of last night’s game.
There were a few patrons inside, but most of them looked like members of the MC with matching tattoos on their biceps, vests covered in patches that the club members referred to as cuts, and faces fixed into permanent scowls.
The middle section of the ground floor was a bike shop that specialized in repairs and resales.
The first member to notice Tanner getting out of his vehicle was a grizzly looking guy with a nasty old scar on his face that went from his right brow, across the bridge of his nose, and ended on the left side near his chin.
A hunting knife could definitely leave a mark like that, but it looked too old and healed up for it to have happened recently.
“What the hell,” the man roared, neither a question nor a statement. “Cops aren’t welcome here.”
“We’re here about Arlo J,” Tanner said.
Another member straightened from behind the bike the first guy was working on, and came toward them, his arms tense at his sides. “We handle our own business.”
“Not if you don’t want to end up behind bars,” Tanner warned, his right hand going to his holstered weapon as a precaution. “Now, what’s your name?”
“Baby.” The man said it with a straight face. For a moment Tanner thought he misunderstood.
“Baby?” Tanner repeated. “Is that some kind of joke?”
The man didn’t take kindly to Tanner’s words and took another step forward, his hands now clenching into fists. “Do I look like a funny man to you?”
“Let’s try your real name. You know, the one on your birth certificate.” Tanner wasn’t in the mood to play games or be intimidated by this thug.
“That’s confidential,” Baby said. “Now move it.”
There was a shuffle at the door to the bike shop and two more men approached. One of them was Nico, the other wore dark glasses and his hair looked like he’d just gotten back from a ten-mile ride in the desert with no helmet.
“Detective Rhodes,” Nico said, feigning a friendly tone as his gaze shifted between Tanner and Sinclair. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”
“We’re here to talk to your members about your father,” Tanner said. “Kindly ask them to cooperate, or we’ll be forced to bring them downtown for an official statement.”
Nico smirked. “We have over one hundred members, Detective. Most of them aren’t here, and none of them are actually listed anywhere. For their protection, as I’m sure you can understand. So, I doubt you’d be able to bring any of them anywhere unless they wanted you to.”
The smugness in Nico’s tone was enough to make Tanner want to arrest all three men on sight, simply for existing, but that was how good detectives got thrown off cases.
And that was the last thing he wanted to have happen here.
Instead, he took a long, deep breath, and let it out silently through his nose.
“I’m trying to find out who saw your father the morning of his death, and if they knew who he might be meeting when he was killed.
Though I’m honestly starting to think maybe it was you who killed him?
Father-son issues, Nico?” Tanner was baiting him, but he didn’t care. This guy was on his last nerve.
Nico didn’t seem phased by his accusation. “Not a bad guess, if I hadn’t just come back from filing a police report that someone shot at my bike, nearly missing my gas tank and blowing me up.”
It was then that Tanner noticed the large scrape on Nico’s bike and the evidence of road rash on Nico’s leather sleeve. “Did you get a look at who it was?”
“No, I was too busy trying to stay alive and save my ride. Might’ve been in a black sedan, but I couldn’t testify to that.”
Tanner swallowed, hard. Nico took a step back, then gave Baby and the man standing beside him a curt nod.
Baby answered with a chin lift, and stepped to the side. Nico gestured toward a white door, located in the third and smallest section of the ground floor. “We have two empty offices you can use in the back. Baby can show you.”
Tanner wasn’t sure why he muttered the word, “thanks,” under his breath, but he did.
Tanner and Sinclair followed Baby inside.
The adjacent rooms were small, with a desk in the corner, and two chairs each.
Baby sat in one and Tanner sat in the one across from him.
Sinclair disappeared into the office next door, and Tanner saw another member go in after him before he closed the door.
There was a small window overlooking the back alley that let in some light, but before Tanner could say anything, Baby reached for and flipped a switch that turned on an overhead light fixture that adequately illuminated the room.
“So, what do you want to know?” Baby asked, as if he hadn’t just heard what Tanner said to Nico outside.
For starters, Tanner wanted to know his legal name, but since Baby was shy about giving it, Tanner planned on starting with some easier questions to see if having this brute’s name would even be useful to the case.
He could always look up names in the database later. “Did you see Arlo J that morning?”
“No,” Baby said. “I was here at the club from around eight in the morning and didn’t leave until one in the afternoon. Arlo J never came in during that time.”
“Do you know who he was meeting, if anyone?”
“I have no idea. Arlo J wasn’t the kind of guy who went around telling people his business. He kept his shit to himself. Didn’t even keep a calendar that we knew of.”
“Do you know if he had a beef with any of the club members?”
“If he did, it sure as hell wasn’t me. Again, Arlo J took care of his own shit. When Stumpy borrowed fifty bucks from the register, he ended up with a broken nose, two cracked ribs, and a missing pinkie.”
Tanner couldn’t even bring himself to care what the money was for. Arlo J was a piece of work, though that didn’t surprise Tanner by the way he’d treated Skyla when she was doing healings for him. “What about outside the club? Anyone he might’ve talked about wanting to get revenge on for anything?”
“If Arlo J wanted revenge, he didn’t talk about it. He took it.”
“What about Nico?”
“What about him?” Baby nearly roared. “That’s his son you’re talking about. He’d never hurt that brat.”
“I guess that brat got special treatment,” Tanner surmised.
“More like got away with murder,” Baby said.
“Whose?” Tanner pressed with a straight face.
Baby smirked, obviously catching himself in the moment. “Figure of speech, Detective. Anything else?”