Chapter 5
KNOX
It’s always a good day when a two-part run moves smoothly. And this one was simple. We’d run some guns from our brothers in Georgia to a Honduran crime syndicate. Then we’d moved the cash to just north of Tampa, to hand off the money to our brothers.
Dropping off one hundred and twenty thousand was nice, pocketing sixty thousand dollars for our efforts was nicer.
Because it was a simple cash move, I’d ridden out with North, Havoc, and Vandal.
I run a strict rotation of men; I insist on days off.
I don’t dictate fitness and skills and all that other shit some of the other clubs do.
I believe in patching in brothers who will do more than the minimum on their own time to remain at the top of their game.
When I get back to the clubhouse at three in the afternoon, after an eight-hour round trip and a one-hour handover, I’m ready for a beer.
The last hour has been a battle with winds that are already gusting around twenty to thirty miles an hour.
The sky is so dark, it’s like dusk, even though landfall is about thirty hours away.
We took a risk and rode the bikes, knowing that if the hurricane landed sooner, we could duck into shelter on the way. I hate being caged, and a hurricane is nature’s ploy to make me stay the fuck indoors.
“Prez,” Ridge says when I step inside. “You got a second?”
“Let me grab a drink. I’ll meet you in my office.
” I gesture to the kid behind the bar, and he starts to pour my preferred beer.
He looks like he’s about twelve, but then, a lot of these new prospects do.
I’m not old at forty-four, but the gap between me and the prospects sometimes feels a mile wide.
Reaper has a theory that it’s not the difference in days and hours, it’s the difference in life experience. I’ve seen and done shit these kids can’t even dream about yet. And that’s the gap that feels insurmountable when I look at them.
I’ve fucking lost track of all the slang words that have come and gone over the years.
I grab my beer with thanks and head to my office. Unlike other clubs, I don’t have an office in the room we use for church. Church is for equals; my office is where I’m president.
Ridge is waiting in the chair on the other side of my desk. “Think I might have a wild card guess at who the woman is who ratted on Jackal, and I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”
“You’ve got my attention.”
Ridge winces before he answers, “I think it’s Maren Caldwell.”
I almost choke on beer. “Maren? How the hell has she gotten wrapped up in all this?” It’s hard not to think about our run-in the previous night. How those earrings of hers glistened against her lobes. How she studied me like she could see right through to the marrow of my bones.
And speaking of bones, I’m getting a hard-on just thinking about the way all that hair danced around her face in the breeze. So I take another sip of beer. It’s ice cold against my parched throat. “Fuck. I knew you’d figure it out, brother. What makes you think it’s her?”
“I’d love to take credit, but it’s all a coincidence. Right time, right place. Sunny and I went to get ice to stock up the bar. Two men were in her face at her counter, and I’ve seen Maren enough to know she wasn’t comfortable with what she was dealing with.”
“Were they threatening her?”
Ridge shrugs. “Couldn’t make out a lot of what was being said.
And like I said, they were already there when we arrived, so we missed most of it.
But when she looked up and saw us, the one thing I wasn’t expecting to see was a look of relief on her face.
Because since when has she been relieved to see any of us? ”
“So, what makes you think it’s about Jackal?”
Ridge relaxes into the chair, jutting one leg out in front of him while resting an elbow on the chair arm.
“To distract her, I told her they were low on ice. Gave Sunny time to move down the shelves to be closer without her noticing. He heard her say that she didn’t know Jackal, didn’t know where he was, and didn’t know some other man they were asking about.
One of the guys asked her if she was protecting us, and Maren said she wasn’t protecting anyone. ”
I think about what my road captain just told me.
Maren said she wasn’t protecting anyone.
“But it sounds like she denied knowing Jackal despite the fact I know he only ever bought his bait from her,” I say. “So, whatever she thought was going on, she was protecting Jackal.”
“True. And even if she was lying, how the hell would Maren know where Jackal was?”
“It’s not a complete picture, but it’s the first sniff of a lead we’ve had.
And regardless of Maren’s role in all this, I don’t like that there are two men we don’t know asking about the club.
Given we don’t know the reason they’re looking for Jackal, we should find out where they’re staying and watch them until we know what they’re here for. ”
Ridge stands. “You want me to work with Havoc to bring them in?”
“Yeah. But no one goes too far with the hurricane coming. No risks with any lives.”
“You want me to go back and question Maren?” Ridge asks. “I gave her a warning to be careful of what she was getting mixed up in, but I could go back and try to fill in what we might have missed.”
Ridge should be the one to go. In the process of finding the leak, I haven’t questioned a single woman; I took the men.
The women were divided up, and Sunny, Ridge, North, or Havoc questioned them.
“No. I’ll take care of Maren Caldwell. Because of who her father is, it could put a spotlight on us we don’t really want. ”
Plus, I need to see her again and remind myself why I don’t like the woman. Even if she didn’t share information intentionally, she’s still part of the reason Paltrow became an issue for Jackal.
If Ridge doesn’t believe me, he doesn’t show it. “I’ll leave you to it, boss.”
I look up at him as he heads for the door. “Good work, Ridge. Coincidence or not, it’s just the kind of lead we needed.”
The beer glass sits heavy in my hand, and I sigh as my plans—which involved a hot shower, followed by some more alcohol, and perhaps a bit of fun with one of the club girls—evaporate.
But they’re replaced with a shimmer of…excitement…that I get to question Maren.
As I walk out of the clubhouse, the light rain lashes at me sharply.
But there’s something about the power of a storm, the raw energy, that makes me feel alive.
When we were kids, Drew and I used to play a game called “Hurricane” where we’d pretend to shelter in self-made dens.
Mom would lose her mind when we snuck out during a Category One, just to see how windy it felt.
Mom thought I was gonna be one of those twister chasers when I was a kid. I loved the way the air spun and sucked everything in around it. Wild weather has never scared me, and I don’t intend to let it now.
It’s a ten-minute ride over to the bait shop, and I’m relieved to find no one else is there. Maren is out on the dock, walking to the only airboat still tied there.
“Maren,” I shout as I get closer.
When she looks over, there’s that spark of interest again, which she buries almost as quickly as it fires. It’s so fast, I almost think I imagined it, but then, she clocks it really is me and her spine straightens.
The rain is making the polo shirt cling to her skin, and she brushes damp hair back from her face. “Obviously, we’re closed on airboat tours due to the storm.” Her voice is steady but lacks any kind of warmth. Not that warmth from Maren Caldwell should matter to me.
“Not here for that and you know it. Won’t take long.”
She ignores me and moves to loosen the rope from the airboat. “However long it is, it’s probably too long.”
I put my foot out on the length of the rope to stop her from untying it.
“Knox,” she warns. Call me a sucker for punishment, but I love the way my name falls from her lips when she’s angry.
“Two minutes. That’s all this will take.”
She stands and faces me. “I’ve got to get this boat into the boathouse while I can still steer it properly.”
“And a couple of minutes won’t make or break that. Longer you take to answer my questions, the harder it’s gonna get.”
She rolls her eyes. “Is that supposed to be one of those double-entendre threats? You know, where you could mean it’s going to be harder to steer the boat, but it could also mean harder for me, personally?”
“Jesus, Maren. I’m not going to beat you here on the dock. Two men were here earlier. Who the fuck were they?”
She rolls her eyes. “I had a feeling Sunny or Ridge would scurry back to you like little gossips. It was Ridge, wasn’t it?”
I neither confirm nor deny her suspicions, but I think back to how Ridge thought he and Sunny had been inconspicuous. Maren notices everything, something I need to remember. “What did they want?”
Maren folds her arms across her chest, and it makes her tits look fantastic. “No. Nope. We aren’t doing this. I don’t peddle in gossip. And I’ve managed to live in a small town without rubbing up against your club.”
“According to Ridge, you looked scared when the two of them came in. So stop fucking with me and just tell me.”
She huffs. “So it was Ridge.”
Shit.
Clever girl.
“Maren. Those two men are trouble.”
Her eyes soften for a second. “So, you know who they’re looking for?”
I cross my arms to match her stance. “Just tell me what you know.”
She drops her hands and then looks out over the water as she brushes the wisps of hair that have broken free from her ponytail back from her face.
“It didn’t make sense. They just said they were looking for a friend who went missing about six or eight weeks ago.
They said that person told them that, and I quote, ‘the girl in the bait shop told him where Jackal was.’ And so now they think I know where the guy they’re looking for has gone. ”
Fuck.
“I’m gonna ask you once, and you’re gonna look me in the eye when you answer. Did you tell the person they’re talking about where Jackal was?”
My heart stutters. I have no problem killing people. But for some inexplicable reason, I feel like I’d struggle with killing Maren.
Her eyes lift immediately. There’s confusion in there but not fear. “I didn’t tell anyone anything. Ever.”
There’s no stutter. No darting eyes trying to avoid my gaze.
She meets me. Toe to toe.
“Did you tell those two men where Jackal is?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want any part in whatever this is. And I don’t know why they think I told a stranger where Jackal is, but I never did.”
The worst part of this is that I believe her. But how do I go back to my club and confirm that while Maren is somehow wrapped up in this there won’t be any follow-through or repercussions? Are they really going to believe Maren isn’t the rat?
They all hate Sheriff Caldwell just as much as I do.
They’re gonna want to jump to, admittedly, logical conclusions.
“Do you know where Jackal is, Maren?” I ask.
“Maren?” We both turn to the voice and see Sheriff Caldwell striding down the dock towards us.
His big shoulders are pulled back, his chest puffed out, and his right hand lingers on the handle of his service weapon.
His eyes are on me and stay there until he reaches us.
“Didn’t realize this was a clubhouse annex. ”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck you, Caldwell.”
He slows, just out of reach. “Then, if this isn’t the clubhouse, you must be here to make a purchase. Buying bait?”
His gaze drops to my empty hands, and the air tightens. It’s too thick with years and blood and asphalt and sirens. “Wrap whatever this is up, Maren. I need to talk to you.” Caldwell spins on his heel and heads back to the boathouse.
Maren huffs. “I’m not a dog you can command to follow,” she says after him with frustration.
He doesn’t even stop walking. “Then stop acting like a club bitch.” The words are tossed over his shoulder.
It’s the first time I’ve been close enough to see how they interact without other people around, and it’s like someone just threw a hammer through a pane of glass. It seems as though her father likes her about as much as he likes me. And that…changes things.
I take a step in his direction, and Maren throws out her hand to stop me. “Don’t.” There’s a long sigh. “You’ll just make it worse.”
She unties the boat, then hops into it. “Jackal loved one of the boats in the harbor, always used to say he’d buy it if it went up for sale.
Now that it is, I wanted to let him know.
When he and Shade come to visit, they stay at one of the places Tony Lewis rents to tourists, so I asked Tony if he had a phone number for Jackal when he came into the store one time.
He said he didn’t save Jackal’s new number but did have Jackal’s address after the visit because he left something behind that Tony needed to mail.
I sent him a note about the boat. That’s it.
That’s the only conversation I ever had about it. ”
Then, she starts the boat and steers it into the boathouse.
For a moment, I stand on the dock and think about what she just told me. It means, whoever was in her shop at the time might have overheard.