Chapter Eleven #2
Shadow worked his magic and traced the fucking idiot back to his home base.
Joe Smith my ass. Turns out the guy was a financial manager who had a lot of very rich clients.
None of that made sense of him wanting me dead, but Rattler and Ghost were on their way up to Atlanta to invite him down for a visit.
He could explain the connection when he got here -- the easy way or the hard way.
I was hoping he chose the hard way. He’d fucked with my woman, and that was a killing offense.
I texted Shadow to let me know when our guest arrived. In the meantime, I’d catch a few z’s with my woman. Setting the phone back down on the bedside table, I wrapped myself around Janet and closed my eyes.
* * *
We had one peaceful day before Rattler and Ghost returned. Randolph Amundsen -- alias Joe Smith -- hadn’t come willingly. I left Janet with the rest of the old ladies having a gab fest and admiring her new cut while I headed down to the interrogation shack.
Ace opened the door to let me in. “Glad you could tear yourself away from your old lady.”
Beast snorted from across the room where he was busy arranging assorted supplies on a table in front of the captive. “Took him long enough to win her over.”
“Fuck off,” I said calmly. “Some things are worth waiting for.”
“That she is.” Beast nodded.
I grinned. “I meant me.”
I stalked into the center of the room and raked my gaze over the man who’d ordered my death. Not much to look at. Probably mid-fifties, with a pudgy face and the start of a beer belly. The torn and dirt-streaked suit he had on must have cost him more than most people made in a month.
“What the hell?” I turned to Ace. “I’ve never seen this asshole before in my life. Why is he trying to kill me?”
“That’s what we’re about to find out.” Beast picked up one of the knives on the table. The look on his face was enough to scare a serial killer.
“How’s he supposed to answer questions if he’s gagged?”
Beast shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Ace walked over and yanked the cloth out of the man’s mouth.
The asshole struggled against his bonds, not managing to do much more than rub his wrists raw. “Who are you people? I want a lawyer!”
Ace raised a brow. “Does this look like a police station? That’s not how this works. You see, you tried to kill one of us, and we don’t take kindly to that. We already took care of your little team of assassins who, by the way, upped the game by threatening one of our women. Not cool.”
I could see the moment the fucker realized how much shit he was in. “That’s not my fault. I never told them to take the woman. They did that on their own.”
“But you ordered them to kill my brother Thor, here.”
“Thor?” He looked confused. “Who is Thor?”
I spoke up. “I am. And it makes me angry when people try to carve me up in an alley or take potshots at me from rooftops. Makes me fucking furious when they threaten my woman.”
Comprehension lit his face. “You’re John Stennson?”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know my legal name?”
He gulped and shook his head. “No. Not going there.”
Ace slapped a hand on my shoulder. “You might have to answer questions on this if the police stumble across the corpse. Let Beast and me find out what the hell is going on, and we’ll fill you in later.”
Beast picked up a leather strap and ran the knife over it a few times, stopping to test the sharpness of the blade with his thumb. He glanced over at me. “Go. Your woman is waiting for you.”
I turned and strode toward the door.
“What the hell does he mean, corpse?” Behind me, I could hear Randolph Amundsen struggle against the ropes that held him to the chair. “Hey! You can’t just leave me here with these psychos.”
This was a game we’d played out more than once. Good biker, bad biker? Cute that he picked me as the good guy, after paying to have me killed. I turned back toward our captive. “Tell me why, and maybe I’ll see what I can do.”
“Why?” He looked confused.
“Why you want me dead. Better make it good.”
The man looked from Ace to Beast with a terrified expression.
“It wasn’t personal. Honestly. “He gulped, his eyes fixated on the knife shining in Beast’s hands.
“I have a client, an old lady. Mary Lansky. She didn’t have any kids, never got married, and she was going to leave her fortune to my charitable foundation.
I already had plans for that money. Then she did one of those stupid DNA things that tracks down relatives you never knew you had.
It turned up you, and she hired a private investigator to track the connection.
Luckily, I managed to have him report to me.
She trusted me, you see. I’ve been handling her affairs for decades now.
Turns out your father was some kind of distant cousin she’d never met.
So she asked me to try and find you. Stupid bitch wanted to meet you, get to know you, all that shit.
The cunt planned to rewrite her fucking will in your favor. ”
“Watch your language.” Ace’s tone was mild, but that just made it more terrifying.
Randolph whimpered, and a wet stain spread across the front of his pants. Damn wussy pissed himself.
I felt like someone had hit me with a two by four. “I have a blood relative?” I’d grown up knowing I was an orphan, and I’d accepted that a long time ago, but I’d always longed for a family. That was the reason Riptide meant so much to me. They became the family I desperately wanted to belong to.
“We’ll need information on this lady.” Ace pinned the asshole with his gaze. “Where to find her and that sort of thing. In case Thor here decides to look her up.”
The captive nodded eagerly. “I can give that to you. It’s all in my cell phone.” He made to get it and then realized he couldn’t move his hands. “It’s in my pocket.”
Beast reached over and plucked the phone out of the coward’s pocket, holding it up to his face to unlock it. He thumbed through it for a few minutes, before looking over at Ace. “He’s telling the truth. I can see her name, address, all kinds of shit about her. Looks like she’s worth a lot.”
“A fortune. You can see why I did what I did. Think of all the good my foundation could do with that kind of cash.” The pleading note in Randolph’s voice turned my stomach.
“So you think it’s okay to murder someone so that you can use their inheritance to do good? Explain how that works, because it sure sounds like bullshit to me.” Ace shook his head. “What happens to this foundation of yours if you die?”
He blinked. “If I die? I guess my wife and son would take it over, or hire someone to run it.”
Ace turned to me. “We’ll take it from here.” He handed me the phone. “Give that to Shadow. He can get the information about your relative and you can decide if you want to make contact or not.”
I nodded and took the phone from him. What he said earlier still applied. I needed to be elsewhere when this fucking waste of a life breathed his last. “Thanks, man.”
I turned on my heel and walked away, closing the door on the panicked screams of the man who’d ordered my death when he realized it wasn’t me who was going to die today.