Chapter Twenty-Seven
Threads of cool air filtered into the office. Rags looked away from his monitor, a faint smile tugging at his lips as Hawk wiped a dusting of snow from his leather jacket.
“Hey,” Rags said.
“Hey.” Hawk sank into the chair. “You guys busy?”
Rags nodded. “Yeah. How’re Neo and Isa doing?”
“Better, thanks. We thought it was just a cold, but it’s a respiratory virus.” He frowned. “Scares the fuck outta you when your kids are sick.”
“I bet. The others didn’t get it?”
“No, just them.” He exhaled. “Cara’s been solid through it all.” A warm smile curled his lips.
“She’s a tough woman,” Rags said.
“Yeah.” Hawk’s blue eyes sparked.
Rags leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “You find out who owns that car?”
“Not yet. If you’d given one more letter or number, I’d already have the asshole’s name, but it’s taking longer than I thought. It didn’t help with Isa and Neo being sick.”
“I get it.”
“It shouldn’t be much longer. There’s a shitload of Ford Focuses in this state, but I’ll get it.”
“I appreciate it.”
“You heard there’s been another one, right?” His gaze flicked away for a second. “They found her yesterday. Same MO. Young, curvy, and dark hair. Strangled in her home.”
Rags’s heart slammed against his ribs. A frantic, uneven beat he hated. Fear. It tasted like copper in the back of his throat. The urge to bolt out the door, to ride until he could wrap his arms around Casey and make sure she was breathing, hit hard.
Then, he crushed it.
Rags’s face went stone-cold. He stared past Hawk, forcing his lungs to expand, slow and steady.
He clamped down on the panic until it stopped clawing at him.
The fear didn’t disappear; it fermented.
It turned into a hot, thrumming vibration beneath his skin.
He took the thought of losing Casey and shoved it into a dark corner of his mind.
His jaw ticked. His hands curled into fists until his knuckles blanched.
“You okay?” Hawk asked.
“Yeah,” Rags said, voice low and controlled. “I’m gonna kill this sonofabitch.”
Hawk nodded.
“Whatcha doin’ here?” Throttle said, stepping into Rags’s office.
“I was in the area and figured I’d see what you two goof-offs were up to,” Hawk said.
Throttle guffawed and glanced at Rags. “What up, dude? Somethin’ happen?”
“Hawk told me there’s been another murder by that bastard the fuckin’ badges can’t find.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What the hell is wrong with these badges?”
“I’m wondering the same thing,” Throttle said.
“They’re worthless unless it’s stickin’ their noses in our business. Assholes.” Hawk pushed to his feet. “I gotta get back to the shop.”
“Why? Kimber’s there. You know all the guys are terrified of her.” Throttle laughed.
Hawk chuckled. “You’re right about that, but I sent her to Silverton to pick up some parts.” He rapped his fingers on the desk. “I’ll have that information soon.”
“Okay. Thanks,” Rags said.
“See you.”
A burst of frosty air rushed in as Hawk opened the door and stepped outside.
“What info is Hawk gettin’ for you?” Throttle asked.
“The name of the bastard whose car I chased at Casey’s that night,” Rags replied.
“Oh yeah. When you find out, count me in.”
A grim smile pulled at his lips. “Thanks.”
“I know what you’re goin’ through. It’s tough as hell. Been there.”
“I know.”
“We’ll nail his ass. Until then, keep your woman covered,” Throttle said.
“I am. Banger’s good with Hog and Skinless rotating shifts when I’m not around. Casey thinks I’m overreacting.”
“They all do. Remember how my ol’ lady was? Fuck that. We go by our gut.”
“Yep. That’s what I’ve been telling her, but…” he chuckled.
“She stubborn as hell. Am I right?” Throttle grinned.
“One hundred percent.” Rags shook his head.
Throttle guffawed. “Welcome to the club of stubborn women who drive you crazy and you can’t live without.”
Rags rolled his eyes.
Throttle glanced at his phone. “Damn. I got a meeting with Darrell Nelson in five minutes.”
“You better get your ass movin’. That’s a shitload of money if we land that contract.”
“I know.” Throttle turned toward the door.
“Get it for us, dude,” Rags said as Throttle yanked it open and rushed out.
Quiet settled over the office. Rags leaned back, frustration snaking up his spine. The sicko spreading reigning fear over the town was hiding in plain sight. That pissed him off more than anything.
“He’s right under my nose. Damnit,” he muttered.
His cell phone rang, cutting through the silence.
He grimaced when Julie’s name flashed on the screen.
What the hell does she want? He’d been by to see her mom a couple of times over the past few months and had been relieved he’d just missed Julie both times.
And now she was calling him. Maybe her mom died.
His gut twisted. He picked up the phone.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she breathed. “Are you busy?”
“Yeah. How’s your mom doing?”
“She’s about the same, which I guess is good. She talks about you a lot. She always liked you, you know.”
“She’s cool. So what’s up?”
“Nothing.”
After a few seconds, he said, “Julie? You still there?”
“Yeah… uh… yeah, I’m here,” she said, her voice cracking. “I… I need to talk with you.”
He heard her take a long, slow breath over the line. “In person. And I’m not trying to hit on you or anything. I’m… um… in trouble.”
Rags sighed. “What kind of trouble?”
She took a long time to answer. “I don’t wanna talk about it… on the phone. Can you meet me at Ruthie’s? Please… I don’t know what to do,” she said, her voice dropping.
“I can’t meet now. I’ve got work to do, then I’m heading out with the crew.”
“I didn’t mean now. Later?”
Rags exhaled, his lips pressed tight.
“Please… I know you don’t owe me anything, but I’m… scared.”
“About what?”
“I can’t talk about this over the phone,” she whispered.
“Okay. Let’s meet at Ruthie’s. I can’t get there until five,” he said, already knowing he’d regret it.
There was a long pause, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Thanks, Rags. You don’t know how much this means… to me,” Julie said, followed by a quiet, wet sniffle.
There it was, that jagged, familiar sound of her trying to swallow a sob. Years ago, he would’ve reached through the line to catch her. Now, it just made him look at the wall clock.
“Really. It means a lot that you’d—”
He shifted his weight, his keys jingling in his shirt pocket. “I’ll see you at five, Julie.”
He ended the call before she could say anything else.
For a moment, he stared at the dark screen, feeling nothing but a faint, buzzing irritation in his chest. The kind he felt when stuck in traffic, itching to get out of town and hit the open road.
He shook his head, pocketed the phone away, and fired up his laptop.
* * *
When Rags stepped inside Ruthie’s, a few people hovered around the cash register. Parents with squirming children on their laps filled the waiting area.
“Damn,” Rags muttered as he stomped the snow off his boots.
He craned his neck, searching for Maddie. He spotted her carrying a tray piled high, weaving through the crowd.
The curly-haired waitress glanced over, a smile spreading across her face.
She mouthed, “Hang on,” then stopped at a booth with two worn-out parents and four small kids shoving and swatting at each other while their parents ran interference, trying to keep glasses of milk, soda, and water from tipping over amid the clatter of silverware.
Rags chuckled as he watched the exhausted parents push glasses toward the center of the table, only to have one of the children drag them back to the edge. It reminded him of when he was a kid and how he and his siblings drove their parents just as crazy.
“Hiya, handsome,” Maddie said, blowing a strand of hair off her forehead. “You alone, or are your friends gonna join you?”
“I’m meeting someone. Is our booth open?”
“I saved it for you. I had a feeling one of you would show up tonight. If only I could do that with winning lottery numbers, I’d retire.” She laughed.
“And walk away from all this?” Rags teased.
“Especially at times like this.”
She glanced over her shoulder when someone yelled out “Ma’am?”
“Hang on, a sec. Let me take care of this,” she said.
“No worries. Take your time,” he said.
He watched her hurry to a table with a couple and two teenagers: one glued to his phone, the other stared out the window, ignoring the adults.
“Hi, Rags.”
A soft hand brushed his.
He turned. “Hey, Julie.”
“It’s packed in here,” she said, pulling her hand back.
“Always is at this time.”
“I forgot that. It makes sense, though with parents getting off work and all, right?”
He grunted, his gaze drifting back to Maddie who waved him over.
“Table’s ready,” he said to Julie, heading that way.
“Remember how many times we used to come here?” she asked sliding into the booth.
He shrugged and picked up the menu.
“We used to order chili cheeseburgers with extra fries.” She smiled. “And share the double fudge shake. Do they still have it on the menu?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you come here a lot?”
“Yeah. This is our booth, and this special lady is our favorite waitress.” He smiled as Maddie put a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. “How’re you and the kids doing?”
“Good. They’re both in sports, so it keeps them out of trouble.” Maddie sighed. “They aren’t kidding about the teenage years. But I can’t say too much ’cause I gave my mom hell.”
“I guess I did, too.”
Maddie’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “You? I don’t believe that.”
Rags laughed.
“He was a real rebel,” Julie said, her gaze fixed on him.
“Was? I still am,” Rags said, lifting the coffee to his lips.
“And your mama still loves you.” Maddie laughed.
“He’s a lovable person all the way around,” Julie said, her stare lingering on his face.
“This shit’s getting too mushy. Bring me a bacon burger with extra cheddar.”
“Medium, right?” Maddie winked, taking his menu.
“You got it. No fries this time.”