Five hours before the wedding…
What feels like only minutes later, I’m woken up by my phone ringing. Rolling over to grab it, I realize I’m alone. A shot of panic jolts me until I hear the shower running.
“What?” I snarl into the phone.
“Mr. Ramsey? This is Investigator Brand.”
“Oh.” I crane my neck to check the time. “It’s fuckin’ early.”
“Yeah. I need to meet with you.”
“Now?”
“Sometime today.”
“It’s a busy day for me.” Never mind that I’m getting married in five hours, I’m wary of how insistent this prick is. The thug in me is worried it’s a set-up so they can arrest me.
“I can come to you.” I hear him shuffling through papers in the background. “Except all I got is a p.o. box over in Sterling.”
Yeah, he ain’t coming here. “You know where Hog Heaven is?” I ask.
“That’s way the fuck out in the boonies.”
His annoyance makes me chuckle. “Best I can do.”
“Fine. I can be there in an hour.”
The shower’s still running when we hang up. I sneak into the bathroom, prepared to give my bride an early, orgasmic wedding present, but she shuts the water off as I’m pulling my shorts down.
“Hey,” I call out.
She yelps and opens the shower door, steam escaping into the bathroom. “What are you doing in here?”
“I want to fuck you.”
An innocent smile curves her lips. “No sex before the wedding.”
“I need to meet with Investigator Brand in an hour.”
She steps out, wrapping her body in one towel and her hair in another. “Now?” She meets my eyes. “I don’t like it. Sounds like a set-up.”
“I thought so, too.”
She stands there chewing on her lip. “What are you going to do?”
“I want to find out what he thinks is so fucking important this early on a Saturday morning.”
Her worried honey eyes finally meet mine. “He couldn’t…there’s no way he knows…about last night, right?”
“Doubt it.” I hate upsetting her on our wedding day with this shit. “Hey, it’s probably nothing. I’m meeting him down at Hog Heaven. I’ll be at the park before you even get there.”
“Hog Heaven, huh?” Her lips quirk. “Brand tries to arrest you there, crusty old Frank might shoot him.”
I snort at the way she describes Hog Heaven’s owner. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
Rock doesn’t have the same faith in Frank that Trin does.
“No fucking way. You’re not going by yourself,” he snaps as soon as I explain where I’m headed.
“I gotta go see what he wants. Last thing I need is him puttin’ out a warrant.”
“Christ,” he says, stepping back and opening his front door wider. “Get in here. Let me make a call before we go.”
I don’t bother arguing with him. It will take longer, and in the end he’ll get his way, so I might as well chill for a few minutes.
Turns out I didn’t wake anyone. The whole house is already up. I have a feeling it has more to do with Alexa’s unhappy wailing than wedding prep. That’s confirmed a few minutes later when Murphy carries a red-faced Alexa into the kitchen. “Hey, she okay?”
He turns as if he hadn’t even noticed me there. “No. Can you hold her a sec?” He thrusts her into my arms before I answer, which is fine. She stops screaming in favor of pulling at my beard and drooling on me.
“Aw, I think she likes me better, bro.”
Murphy rolls his eyes and grabs a bag from the fridge. “Here, then you can give her this.” He hands me a cold plastic ring, which Alexa grabs for almost immediately.
“You like that, kiddo?” I ask while she gnaws on whatever the hell it is.
“Why you over here so early, groom?” Murphy asks after a lengthy yawn.
“Fire investigator wants to meet with me.”
“Fuck. Really?” He turns, his gaze sweeping over the living room. “Rock going with you?”
“He wanted to make a call first.” I glance down the hall. “Where’s Heidi?”
“Sleeping. She’s been up the last couple nights with her,” he says, running his hand over Alexa’s head.
Alexa throws her arms in the air and lunges for Murphy, almost tipping out of my arms. “Whoa—”
“I got her.” Murphy swings her into his arms, and she settles down.
“We’re clear. Let’s go,” Rock calls out as he thunders down the stairs. “Morning, baby,” he says, stopping to kiss Alexa’s forehead and ruffle her hair. “You good?” he asks Murphy.
“Yup. If you’re not back by ten-thirty, I’ll go to the park and check on things.”
Confident we’ll be back in time, I follow Rock out to the garage and we head down the mountain to Hog Heaven.
Brand’s already at the restaurant. He chose a table with two chairs in the back, which is good because both of us weren’t gonna fit in one of the tiny booths this place has. Rock decided to wait outside, but Brand notices him and smirks at me. “You guys ever travel alone?”
“No.”
He nods slowly and kicks out the chair across from him. “Sit. I ain’t here to arrest you.”
I ease the chair out farther and drop into it, casually leaning back and lifting my chin. “I don’t have all day.”
“What’s your hurry?”
“My wedding is in a couple hours.”
“Oh.” He nods slowly. “Sorry.”
Frank stops by and fills my coffee cup but doesn’t ask if we need anything else.
Brand and I stare at each other for a few seconds before I sit up. “Listen, you’re really not my type. So if you brought me here to stare into each other’s eyes all morning, it’s a wasted effort.”
He snorts and pulls out a folder. “I feel like you’re hiding something.” When I don’t respond, or even blink, he continues. “Yet, I really don’t think you had anything to do with the fire.”
“Good.”
“Arson investigations are complex, expensive, and lengthy.” He drums his fingers on the table for a few beats, then pulls an iPad out of his folder and sets it on the table. “Off the record, I’m being told to back off this investigation.” He glances out the window at Rock. “I can guess why.”
I still keep my mouth shut.
“None of my findings support you or your partners as having any involvement in the fire, so the people suggesting I drop this case will get their way. If there was even a hint that it was part of some larger terrorist attack or something, we’d be all over it no matter who was callin’ in favors.” He pins me with a sharp look. “But a disgruntled employee who tried to vandalize your building and died in the accidental fire that resulted? We can’t waste resources on that.”
“Okay,” I answer carefully.
“Your insurance company is a different matter. They’re only interested in my opinion if it supports their theory.” He tosses his card on the table. “I’m qualified to testify as an expert witness if it comes to that.”
I take the card and stick it in my wallet. “I appreciate that.” I mean it, too. As Teller said, this guy’s rep is solid. Having him testify on my behalf or even the threat of having him testify might turn things in my favor with the insurance company. “But you didn’t drag me down here this early because you need some side work.”
“No. I didn’t.” He flips open the iPad cover and flicks the screen on. After searching for a few minutes, he passes the tablet to me and reaches over to hit play.
A grainy video fills the screen. No sound. Black and White. Taken from an awkward angle above. Gas station. It looks familiar, but because of the shitty lighting, I can’t be sure. A car I recognize drives up to one of the pumps.
I recognize it because it’s the same black car that took Trinity last night.
Ransom.
My jaw clenches, and I work hard not to show any response. Two figures get out very close together. One pale, tall, and skinny. The other tall, dark, and bulky.
Neither of them turn their faces up toward the camera. They don’t have to for me to recognize them.
Twitch and Ransom.
Ransom shoves something against Twitch’s side, and I don’t need to be a cop to know it’s a gun. Twitch shakes his head. Ransom turns and lifts something out of the back seat.
Gas cans.
Brand leans over and pauses the video. “We just received this. All the stations in the area were told to check their footage. The Mobil right down the fucking street from your gym found this and handed it over last night.”
“Jesus.” My heart’s hammering so hard. Ransom’s dead, but fuck do I want to kill him all over again.
“You recognize either of them?” Brand asks.
“That’s Twitch.” There’s no point in pretending I don’t know it’s him.
“And the other one?”
I lift my shoulders. “Too hard to tell.”
He cocks his head and makes an are you shitting me? face. “Let me tell you who I think it is.” He taps the screen over Twitch’s cut. The small Lost Kings MC patch on the front can barely be seen, but that doesn’t seem to stop Brand. “After running your prints, your affiliation with the Lost Kings MC popped up.”
“Club’s got nothing to do with Furious.” My couldn’t-care-less tone doesn’t seem to convince him.
“Yeah. Right.” He taps the screen again and the video unfreezes. Ransom turns and Brand pauses the screen again. Tapping a tattoo on Ransom’s neck. “Now, this asshole isn’t wearing his cut. Not a surprise, since Gang Taskforce says the Vipers suddenly started disappearing about eighteen months ago.” He makes this cocky “poof” gesture with his hands that almost makes me snort with laughter. “But when you blow this up on a big screen, the Viper’s insignia is pretty clear.”
He hits the screen again and lets the video finish.
Twitch shakes his head. Ransom slugs him in the gut. The back door of the car opens. An arm—probably Kidd—reaches out, grabbing Twitch and yanking him into the backseat. Ransom slams the door. He fills two gas cans, puts them in the trunk and the car drives out of the shot.
Rage pours through me. My fist’s in my mouth, and I’m biting down on my fingers hard enough to leave marks. I figured it went down something like this. But guessing and seeing it play out before your eyes are two different things.
Twitch fought ’til the end.
Brand observes my reaction with a blank expression. “I’m guessing you know who that is with your prospect.”
I tip my head up and glare at him.
He holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. I figure you and your—” he glances out the window at Rock again. “—brothers will handle it your way. I just thought you should see this.”
What the fuck am I supposed to say—thanks?
He pushes a folder across the table at me. “This is my official report. Yesterday afternoon, I ruled the cause as incendiary—juvenile fire-setting. Your insurance should cover losses caused by vandalism and malicious mischief. I don’t know if the fact that the young man was employed by you will muddy that up, though.”
Christ, he determined that Twitch caused the fire and then a few hours later realized the poor kid was a victim himself, and I can tell it’s not sitting well with Brand.
He can get in line, because it sure as fuck ain’t sitting well with me, either.
I really wish we’d let Ransom suffer longer.