25. Crow
CHAPTER 25
CROW
Crazy is crazy, and sometimes, crazy is also smart.
“She still not answering?”
Journey and I have been standing in the dive bar parking lot since the moment I realized the Limitless Throttle brothers saw my law enforcement contact at that warehouse.
I shake my head. “No, and neither is Gary.”
“Try her again,” he says. “I’ll call Tracer and get him working on tracking her down.”
Addison’s phone goes straight to voicemail this time. I also tried calling her at work but was told she was out in the field and wouldn’t be back in the office until tomorrow.
I dial Gary’s number and press the speakerphone icon. It rings six times, and finally, he picks up.
“What the fuck do you want?” he barks.
So, this is how he wants to play this.
“Gary, where’s Addison?”
“She’s at work.”
“No, she’s not,” I seethe. “I’ve called the precinct and her cell… can’t get a hold of her.”
“I don’t know wh?—”
“Cut the bullshit,” I snap. “Tell me where she is, and maybe I decide to let you live to see another day.”
“Crow, is that you?!”
Addison’s voice sends relief straight through me. But it’s short-lived when the unmistakable sound of a slap and my woman crying out in pain seeps through the line.
“I swear to Christ, Gary, if you hurt her…”
“What?” he counters. “What will you do if I hurt her?”
“I’ll gut you like you gutted those three guys. The difference is, I won’t leave a body for anyone to find.”
Journey disconnects his call with Tracer and mouths, “He’s on it.”
I nod.
“What will it take to make this all go away?” Journey asks.
“I get the pres and vice pres… I’m flattered.”
“Gary,” I snarl.
“Okay, you want this to end, here’s what I want.” He takes a deep breath. “I want one of your boys to confess to killing Mrs. McGill, and another to confess to the triple homicide. I also want a million dollars wired into my account by midnight so I can retire and move to a beach somewhere.”
“See, that’s not gonna happen,” I tell him calmly.
“Then Addison is gonna meet the same fate as her mommy.”
The call is disconnected, and I throw my head back and let out an agonizing scream.
“Bro,” Journey says, resting a hand on my shoulder. “We’re gonna get her. She’ll be fine.”
“He hit her, man. I heard him hit her.”
“And she’s not some wimpy broad. She’ll be okay.”
Journey’s phone rings, and he answers it right away.
“Please tell me you’ve got something,” I beg when I see that it’s Tracer.
“Her phone isn’t active right now, but the last known location was about a mile away from Baker Road which is where?—”
“Gary lives,” I finish for him. “He’s taking her to his house.”
“Idiot,” Journey gripes.
“Tracer, J and I are headed for them. Tell Jackyl to be on standby in case medical attention is necessary.”
“You got it. Go get your girl, Pres.”
My girl.
Addison and I have spent so much time together, even finally slept together, but we’ve never put a label on what’s between us. I think it’s about time that changes.
Journey and I tear out of the parking lot and ride as fast as our Harleys will allow. Fortunately, I know a route to Gary’s place that doesn’t require us to go through any towns so hopefully, we don’t run into traffic.
While I ride, I rack my brain for any signals I missed about Gary being off his rocker. It brings me no comfort to realize there were no signals. Crazy is crazy, and sometimes, crazy is also smart.
But he’s not quite as smart as he believes if he thinks I don’t know where he lives. The second he was added to the club’s payroll, a dossier on him was created with every detail Tracer could gather.
Two and a half hours later, Journey and I are pulling off to the side of the road about half a mile from Gary’s house.
“We’ll walk the rest of the way,” I say as I check my weapons.
“I’ll follow you.”
I’m coming, Addison. Just a few more minutes.