Chapter 13
Teller wasn’t thrilled about busting into a biker bar looking for one of their own. And he sure as hell didn’t want to take Sachie in there with him.
Yet, he knew if he didn’t take her, she’d find her own way there. What chance did a lone female counselor have against a rabid gang of bikers who might be either drunk or high on illicit drugs...or both?
“You know bikers don’t necessarily hang out all day at their favorite bar. They’re like vampires and come out at night,” Teller said.
Sachie cocked an eyebrow and stared across the console at Teller. “And you know this because you’ve frequented biker bars?”
“Not necessarily,” he said. “However, going in looking like a highly educated cream puff will flag you before you even cross the threshold.”
Sachie’s lips twitched. “What are you saying? I need to look more like a badass than a cream puff?”
“Actually, yes.” He cast a glance her way as they drove away from Candice’s sad house in the middle of an equally sad neighborhood of homes with peeling paint and sagging roofs.
Even the houses looked like they’d lost hope.
He hadn’t liked the smell of Candice’s home, but even more, he hadn’t liked that anyone was so far down they’d live in a place like that.
The woman needed mental help as well as a bulldozer to clean the place.
He handed her his cell phone. “Text George Ingram the following: Need 6, 22:00, Leather & Chains, dress code advised.” His lips twitched, knowing what George’s reaction would be.
Two seconds after Sachie hit send, his phone vibrated.
“You can answer,” Teller said. “Put it on speaker.”
“Yo, Osgood.”
“Ingram,” Teller acknowledged.
“Could you be more cryptic?” His friend and teammate always got straight to the point.
Teller chuckled. “My client and I need backup tonight at a motorcycle club.”
“A single operative kind of backup or a potential team convergence bailout?”
“Hard to say. I’d lean toward team convergence.
The guy we’re going in to question is a recent prison release.
My client helped convict him of child abuse.
He’s also not averse to beating women, as his first stop post-prison was at his ex-girlfriend's place. He put her in the hospital. We assume his MC associates are equally pleasant.”
“Gotcha,” George said. “And by dress code, I assume you want us to blend in.”
“We’d like to at least make it through the door,” Teller said.
“I assume the client you’re taking is Ms. Moore.”
“News travels fast,” Teller observed.
“Hawk gave us the heads-up in case you needed support,” George explained. “You sure you want to take Ms. Moore into the middle of what sounds like a dangerous motorcycle gang? Is this something we can do without exposing her to the risk?”
“I’m going,” Sachie said, with a stubborn set to her chin. “With or without the Brotherhood Protectors.”
As Teller had predicted. That’s part of the reason I wanted to get some additional insurance. We think the guy we’re going after might be the one who has been at the root of her problems.”
“Why not let the police handle it?” George asked.
Teller cocked an eyebrow in Sachie’s direction.
“I’ve worked with the Honolulu and Hawaii police in the past. Sometimes, word leaks out to the wrong people,” Sachie said.
“I don’t want anyone warning Finkel before I get some answers from him.
Since we’re not going to the bar until late tonight, I have some other places and people I want to check. It might change our direction.”
“We just want the team ready if we have to go to Leather & Chains tonight,” Teller added.
“On it,” George said. “I’ll rally the troops and wait on standby for the go-ahead.”
“Roger,” Teller said. “Out here.”
“Out here,” George echoed and ended the call.
“Where are we going next?” he asked.
Sachie’s brow furrowed. “I’m thinking.”
Before she could come to a conclusion, her cell phone rang. She frowned down at the display. “It’s Dr. Janek,” she said and answered. “Yes, sir.”
The lines across her forehead eased. “Yes, sir. We’ll stop by in a few minutes.
” After she ended the call, she gave Teller a brief smile.
“Dr. Janek forgot to give me a stack of mail. I’d like to swing by and collect it.
I’m not sure where to go next to find my stalker until we corner Travis at the club tonight, so I’d like to get in touch with Kylie, Luke’s girlfriend. ”
She scrolled through the contacts on her cell phone, found what she was looking for and placed a call, putting the phone on speaker. “I hope Luke’s foster family has Kylie’s information.”
The call rang three times before a woman’s voice answered. “Ms. Moore?”
“Yes, Mrs. Randall, how are you and your husband?”
The woman sighed. “Okay, now that the reporters have stopped coming around. How are you?”
“Finally coming out of the fog and looking for answers.”
“How can I help?” Mrs. Randall asked.
“I’d like to talk with Kylie, Luke’s girlfriend. I know they had an argument, and that Kylie fell and got hurt. He blamed himself. I’m trying to piece together what made Luke feel like he had no other choice.”
“He was head over heels for that girl,” Mrs. Randall said. “I can’t imagine him purposely hurting her.”
“I agree. I’d like to hear Kylie’s side of that argument,” Sachie said. “Do you have her phone number?”
“Actually, I do. Thankfully, I got it from Luke when he started dating her, in case I couldn’t get in touch with him on his own phone. Hold on, let me scroll through my contacts.” The woman stopped talking for a few seconds and then came back with, “There she is. I’ll share the contact.”
A moment later, Sachie’s cell phone beeped with an incoming text.
“I’m glad I had her number,” Mrs. Randall said.
“The police confiscated Luke’s cell phone and have yet to return it.
I hope you find out what was bothering Luke.
My husband and I tried talking to him the last couple of weeks before he did what he did.
We could tell all was not well in his world, but he wouldn’t open up.
He kept saying he was fine. At one point, I asked if I could help him with whatever problem he was having.
I remember him saying, I can handle it.” She paused.
“I only wish I’d tried harder to get him to open up.
I keep thinking he’d still be here if I’d been more persistent.
” She gave a brief laugh. “At the time, I thought there was a fine line between being persistent and pushy with teens. I didn’t want to drive him away. I should’ve been pushy.”
“We can’t second-guess what happened,” Sachie said. “It doesn’t change the outcome. But we can learn. That’s why I want to understand everything that led up to Luke’s final decision.”
“I’d like to know that as well,” Mrs. Randall said. “If my husband and I decide to foster a teen again, which I doubt we will, I’d like to know how to get in front of the issue before it goes too far.”
“Thank you for taking Luke in. I’m almost certain that whatever happened to send him over the edge had nothing to do with you and your husband. He only ever had good things to say about you.”
“Thank you for that,” Mrs. Randall said. “And if there’s anything else I can do, don’t hesitate to call.”
Sachie ended the call and placed the next. It only rang once before voicemail picked up. “Hi, this is Kylie. I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message, and I might return your call, that is, if you’re not a telemarketer or a creepy stalker.”
Sachie shot a smile toward Teller.
He liked it when she smiled. She’d had so little to smile about lately. He wanted to find her stalker and put an end to the terror he’d inspired. Then Sachie would have the time to heal and learn to smile more often.
“Kylie, this is Sachie Moore. I was Luke’s counselor and was with him when he...
passed.” Sachie paused as if gathering her thoughts or courage.
“I’d like to talk with you, if you’re up to it.
I’m trying to better understand what happened.
No pressure. If you’re not ready, I’ll understand.
” She ended the call and sighed. “I hate opening the wounds. If she was half as crazy about him as he was about her, she’s got to be a dark place right now.
The shock of losing a friend so suddenly and violently can sometimes have a domino effect. I hope she’s not dominoing.”
Teller reached for her hand and held it for the rest of the drive to Dr. Janek’s office.
The doctor was seated behind the receptionist’s desk, looking at the computer monitor, his forehead creased in a deep frown. He glanced up at Sachie. “I can’t make heads or tails of this appointment calendar.”
Sachie slipped behind the desk and leaned over the doctor. “Let me.”
He removed his hand from the mouse, and Sachie took control. “What were you trying to do?”
“I just spoke with a patient and needed to schedule his next appointment.” He sat back far enough to let Sachie in to navigate the system. He gave her the date and time. “I checked against my schedule, and it will work. I just couldn’t add it myself. Lindsey can’t call in sick ever again.”
“It’s not as hard as you think,” Sachie said. “Watch.” She slowly led him through the steps to add an appointment to the calendar and backed out all the changes before committing them.
“Whoa, wait,” he said, his eyebrows rising up his forehead. “Why did you remove the appointment?”
“You won’t learn if you don’t do it yourself,” she said. “Now, you do it.”
Teller had to choke back laughter at the doctor’s incredulous expression.
But the man fiddled with the mouse and the keyboard until he sat back and nodded. “I did it.”
“I always knew you could,” Sachie said.
“I still don’t want to be without a receptionist,” he mumbled, then pushed back from the desk and stood. “What can I help you with?”
“You said you had a stack of mail for me,” Sachie reminded him.
“Yes, yes. So I do.” He turned to a credenza behind him, grabbed a stack of envelopes and handed them to Sachie.