Bounty: Fury Riders MC (41 page)

Chapter 25

I sit down in front of my open laptop again, doing another search. This time, I’m looking for any available information on Marissa Fairbanks. Who was she? What sort of things was she into? Was she wrapped up in the club, or just an outsider?

I remember the tattoo I saw on Adam’s chest, just like the one on Jax’s. He’s a member of the club, too—or at the very least, he was at one time. Odds are she had something to do with the club, too, outside of being married to Jax. Maybe it ran in the family. Maybe her father was a member, or an uncle. Or maybe she got involved with the guys in the club after her brother joined.

Maybe she was never involved at all. Just an innocent party. Like me.

I can’t think about that now.

There’s not much on Marissa, or her murder. I was sure there would be a million articles about it, especially seeing as how the town hates the club. From what I’d already read, one of the guys could sneeze and it would make the news. I was certain I’d find all sorts of salacious details on the murder of the wife of a club member—a prominent one, if what Adam said was true.

Marissa is a mystery, it seems. I think about the way she decorated the house in which Jax still lives. She was a simple, sweet person, I think. Not fancy. Homey, cozy. She wanted to create a refuge for her man. I can understand the impulse, having had it myself. Why else would I have been driven to bake cookies for Jax when I hardly knew him?

She didn’t deserve to die the way she did, alone in the woods, left there to rot, going by the way Adam had described. I remember the pain in his voice when he talked about her. Now that I’ve met him, I get the idea he only let himself go after she died. He’s drinking himself into an early grave.

I understand what pain like that can do to a person. He’s desperate for an answer to how his sister’s life ended. He wants to pin the crime on any convenient person. Jax is just the most convenient.

It doesn’t help the bullet matched the gun he carried. I can understand why Adam would jump to conclusions when that’s the case.

I can’t believe it, though. I won’t believe it. Jax is innocent.

No, he’s not. He’s not innocent. Maybe of his wife’s murder. But not of other things.

I accept that. A person can make mistakes. They can also move on from them. They deserve the chance to.

I have to talk this out with somebody. If I hang around the house like this, I’ll go crazy. Just going over and over it in my head until I lose it. I’m still nervous about leaving the house, but I need to take the chance.

Minutes later, I’m at the coffee shop. It’s lunchtime as a handful of employees of the little shops up and down Main Street coming in for a cup of coffee or dessert on their break. I walk in, saying hi to everyone.

“I thought you were sick!” Amy’s behind the counter, busy as a bee. I notice her voice sounds higher-pitched than usual. Unnatural.

Shit
. Everybody knows Jax was at my house, and I conveniently happened to call out sick. I’m sure people have been jumping to conclusions all morning. How much whispering has been going on right here in my own shop?

“I’m feeling better, so I thought I’d come in for a while. You know how it is, you wake up feeling lousy, but once you get moving, it’s not so bad anymore.” I wash my hands and tie on an apron, diving in alongside my friend as though there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Anything to take my mind off the mess for a while. If Tommy’s out there somewhere, he wouldn’t dare try something now. Not while I’m surrounded by people. Would he?

Once things quiet down, I lean against the counter, facing Amy. “I have to ask you something.”

“Sure. What’s up?” I take her by the elbow, leading her to a quiet corner where I can still keep an eye on things in the shop.

“Do you know anything else about the murder of Jax’s wife? You know, something you heard people gossiping about, maybe?”

“What happened? Why are you asking me this?”

I wonder if I can trust her. I love her and she’s become my closest friend even though she started out as an employee. But she’s a talker, very social and bubbly. No, I need to trust my gut. At the end of the day, she’s also reliable.

“I know I can trust you. I have to tell you what happened earlier today.” I give her the brief rundown, explaining what went on with Adam. I’ve been glancing over at the customers every once in a while as I speak, and I can’t miss their eyes on me. I remember now what Adam said, about people talking when Jax’s motorcycle was seen outside my house. Are they whispering about me now?

“Wow, Chris. I can’t believe it.”

I nod my head. “I wanted to see if there was anything else online about Marissa’s murder, but there’s nothing. I mean not a single thing! Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“We’re still a small town. News flares up, but it dies down quickly.”

“Not gossip, though. That’s why I was wondering if you knew anything I wouldn’t otherwise be able to find.”

She looks uncomfortable. “You can tell me, Amy. It won’t hurt me. Not knowing the truth hurts more than anything else, I think.”

“I guess you’re right.” She looks around—there are only two people still drinking coffee and reading their papers. “Well, I’ll tell you this first: people try to make Marissa out to be a saint now that she’s dead. I don’t think that was the case, not really.”

“No? I remember hearing people talking about what a nice girl she was, how they didn’t know why she would have married Jax in the first place.”

“She might have started out like that. Who’s to say? I didn’t know her back then, or very well after they were married. But from what I hear…” she looks around again, “…she was into drugs. Both before and after they were married.”

“Drugs? Oh, no.” Adam hadn’t said anything about that, but then why would he? No family member wants to admit things like that about a deceased loved one, especially if the death tore them up inside the way Marissa’s clearly had.

“Yeah, lightweight stuff at first. Kid stuff. Pot, pills. She stopped for a while when they were first married—I heard he insisted—but she started up again at some point. The word heroin was used.”

“No way. I guess people blame Jax for it.”

“Are you kidding? She could have been hit by lightning and they’d blame him.”

I imagine how awful it must have been for Jax, watching his wife fall deeper into drugs. I’ve never personally known a heroin addict, but I know how increasingly common it’s becoming.

“Then there was the whole scandal that went on with the Angels around that time.”

“What scandal?”

“Illegal weapons. Gun running, specifically. They were under suspicion. The cops were watching their every move. It was a crazy time. Every day, the rest of the town wondered when the club would be taken down, and whether there would be some big shoot-out when they were. We held our breath every day. It felt like living in a war zone just waiting for the first shot to be fired.” She shivers, rubbing her arms.

“Did anything ever happen?”

“No. There was never enough evidence to arrest them. Those guys are smart. Imagine what they could have done with their lives if they hadn’t turned to crime. Anyway, another theory around that time was that a rival gun runner was responsible for Marissa’s murder.”

“I guess that makes sense. Like a message, or payback or something?”

“Right.” She shrugs. “That’s all the news that’s fit to print, my love. I don’t know anything else.”

“Believe me, you’ve told me plenty. I needed a little bit of context. It’s hard knowing what to believe sometimes.”

Amy’s hand touches my arm. “Listen. No matter what the real, full story is, there’s one thing that applies no matter what version you’re listening to.”

“What’s that?”

“The club had something to do with it. Either Jax did it, or somebody related to the club business. And let’s be honest, if she was on drugs, where do you think they came from?”

She’s right. I can’t deny it.

“I say this to warn you, is all. Don’t get too involved with the club, especially now that they’re back in town. Nothing good comes from it. These are not good people. You’re a good person. You deserve better.”

I know she cares, which is why I give her a hug. I can’t take her advice, though. Maybe I’m being naïve, but it’s not the club I’m getting involved with. It’s Jax. It’s clear to me he wants to put space between himself and the rest of them. I’m not afraid.

At least, not of the Angels of Chaos. Or their enemies.

The shop is empty now, save for Amy and me. She starts cleaning up the tables while I take my phone from my purse to call Jax. I have to get through to him somehow.

Before I go to the back for a little privacy, I turn to where Amy’s wiping down tabletops.

“Hey, was there any talk about me in here? This morning, I mean?”

She doesn’t know what to say, which is all the answer I need. I nod, understanding, then go through the door leading to the pantry. I’ll have to tackle the gossip issue somehow, but now’s not the time. The town deserves to know what a good man Jax is, and Jax deserves to be treated better.

I call him, hoping he’s home and in a better mood. The phone rings five…six…seven times before the voicemail picks up.

“Hi, this is Jax. Leave a message.” Short, to the point. So typical.

“Jax, it’s me. I wish you’d answer your phone. Now I know how you felt when I wouldn’t answer for you. Anyway…I want to talk to you. I want you to understand I wasn’t blaming you for anything today. I’m on your side, always. I swear it. I know you didn’t kill her. Nothing Adam said made a difference in what I think or how I feel about you. Please call me back.”

I hang up, leaning my back against the rack and the phone pressed to my forehead.

He has to call me back.

I can’t imagine living without him now.

Chapter 26

I stand outside the shop, in the back, catching a breath of fresh air. Jax hasn’t called me back, though in my heart of hearts I don’t expect him to. Not right away, that is.

What bothers me the most is the feeling that I hurt him.

I tried to explain as best I could via voicemail, telling him I’m on his side. That I don’t believe the terrible things people have said or thought about him. I’m on his side.

I remember Adam. The way he looked when he stood on the lawn. The way I though he reminded me of a broken man. That’s what he is. A broken man, looking for answers. Why was his sister killed? Could he have done anything to stop it? I know that’s how I’d feel. I’d want to know those things, too. I might even turn to drinking, which he clearly has done. He looked terrible.

People who are grieving don’t think clearly. They don’t reason. He’s not reasoning, that’s all there is to it. He wants to blame his sister’s death on Jax, as everyone else has. Pin it on the person closest to the victim. That’s fairly typical. After all, don’t police always look for the person closest? Usually the spouse or significant other? It didn’t help when the gun used to kill the victim is the same type carried by the spouse.

I run my hands through my hair, leaving traces of flour. Okay. I know I’m rationalizing. I know it looks bad for him. I have to keep reminding myself of the person I know. They person I see inside him. That person wouldn’t do something so horrible. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Why am I shaking, then? Because he won’t call me back, that’s all. I don’t know how he feels right now, whether he’s angry with me or just sad because he thinks I didn’t believe him. Has he even listened to his voicemail?

Amy calls to me from inside. I go in, needing to warm up. It’s freezing outside. I had to clear my head.

“You okay? I thought you froze to death out there.” She’s smiling at me, accepting me. She’s the only person I know at the moment who isn’t full of judgment. She cares, but she knows I can make my own choices.

“Just needed to think, is all,” I say. I pour myself a cup of coffee if only to warm my cold hands.

“We’ve got plenty of room to think in here, sister,” she says with a smirk.

“I like fresh air with my thinking,” I reply quietly. But with a smile.

“I thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe he came, and you met him out there.”

I sigh. “He wouldn’t come. Especially after the raft of shit he got from his brother-in-law earlier today about being in town. He wouldn’t come again so soon.”

“Brother-in-law? Not anymore, right?” Implying since Marissa is dead, there’s no relation.

“I guess so? What do you call a brother-in-law once the spouse dies?” We both shrug. It seems as good a name as any.

“So what kind of things was he saying? Why can’t Jax come to town?” Amy sits in one of the chairs. The place is empty, night falling. Not many people are interested in coffee at this time of day, but we stay open for the occasional straggler in need of a jolt, or maybe a cup of hot chocolate.

I lean on the counter, facing her. “You should know why he can’t. I mean, you’ve lived here your whole life.”

“Yeah, but I never heard of any rules which state members can’t be here. Just the opposite, really. They show their faces much more often than we’d like.”

I notice how she uses the word “we.” I never thought of her as being part of the town, not in that way. She’s young, vibrant, hip. I thought she was more open-minded than this. I guess I was naïve about a lot of things. But I know she’s my friend, and I can trust her. I need that right now.

“You wouldn’t know if there was any, you know, club rule stating they could only come to town so often.”

“I don’t think so,” Amy says, sipping a cup of tea. “Honestly, when you first said Jax couldn’t come in, I assumed it had something to do with Marissa. There was an awful lot of drama when she died. I mean a lot of it. We thought it was crazy when the police were looking to close in on the gun trade. Oh, brother. That was nothing compared to what went down after Marissa’s murder.”

“Such as what?”

“They were all under suspicion. The police used it as an opportunity to get a closer look at the club. Bad publicity. Very bad. It was probably exactly what the cops needed, when you think about it.”

“You mean they needed a reason to get close, because they weren’t getting anywhere waiting for evidence of illegal guns being bought and sold.”

“Exactly.” Amy nods emphatically. “Marissa was just the thing. It gave them a chance to question everyone involved, right down to the most random fangirl. Everyone. Rumors flew for months.”

“It all came down to Jax at the end of the day, though. Right?”

Amy nods again. “Right. As soon as they announced the caliber bullet used? Forget it. Case closed, as far as the court of public opinion was concerned.”

I shake my head. “Maybe it’s a matter of Jax not coming to town because he brought so much bad publicity to the club, then.”

“That was my assumption, yeah. I’ve always had the impression he’s not closely affiliated with the club anymore, too. Maybe if he were, they’d be more willing to have his back.”

I think about this. That makes sense, doesn’t it? They’re shunning him, just as much as the town is. Oh, he’s so alone. I wish he would call back.

I hear a noise outside. My head turns automatically. Amy smiles, a little sadly.

“You’re waiting for him, aren’t you?”

I nod, miserable. I can’t deny it.

“Why don’t you go to see him instead of waiting for him to call you? Take matters into your own hands. You have the right. I mean, it’s your life. Isn’t it?”

She has a point. Why can’t I go to him? What’s the worst that could happen? He could throw me off his land. Big deal. I’d leave if he wanted me to. I know he wouldn’t hurt me. I know more than ever he’s not capable of that.

“I guess I will,” I agree. “Once we close up. I refuse to leave you holding the bag. I’ve done enough of that lately.”

“It’s okay,” she says, waving a hand. “What else would I be doing? Nothing. I love coming here.”

I smile. She’s such a rare treasure. “Then maybe you should leave early. You handled the entire rush by yourself today.”

“That wasn’t such a big deal either. Customers know when I’m here by myself, they need to calm the hell down and wait their turn. I don’t go for impatience. I’ll deliberately go slower if you give me a hard time.” I laugh. She can get away with that. She’s known them her entire life.

“So you’re staying? That’s what you’re telling me?” She nods. “Why do I feel like you’re guarding me somehow?”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. What’s up? Do you think I’m in trouble or something?”

Her eyes cloud over. “Not in trouble. Just…you need a little time to recover from the stuff that people were saying in here earlier today.”

We haven’t gone into this yet—in fact, I’d forgotten entirely. “Right. What were they saying?”

“Oh, come on…”

“You can tell me!”

“People always say that, until they hear.”

“Wow. Is it that bad?”

She shakes her head. “Not terrible,” she says, “but not very nice.”

“Please. I think I have the right to know what they were saying.”

“Chris…you can’t un-hear things like this. I don’t want it to color your opinion of the people here. They’re genuinely great people. You’ve said it yourself a million times. It’s just they’ve been living with this club hanging over their heads for a long time. They tend to jump to conclusions because, let’s face it, there’s not much you can put past those guys. There’s literal proof of the things they’ve done.”

“I get it,” I tell her. “I’ll take it with a grain of salt.”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath, looks at the ceiling. “The main thing I heard was a ‘still waters run deep’ joke. You know. This whole time, everyone’s been wondering about you. Why you don’t date, why you’re so quiet. Such a pretty girl, why doesn’t she have a boyfriend? Now it’s, oh, because she likes bad boys. Who’d have imagined that from her? Still waters run deep. You know, with the wink and the nudge. The rolled eyes. It was kind of stupid, especially after the first or second time I heard it.”

“That’s it?” This seems tame considering the way she built it up.

“Yeah, I mean, with different variations every time. See, one version of the story was he spent the night. Another is you two have been shacking up together since you moved here. There are a dozen shades of gray in between. Get it?”

“I get it,” I say, my voice grim. “Well, let them say anything to me. I’ll very firmly but politely put them in their place.”

“Chris…” Amy looks concerned.

I hold up a hand to stop her protests. “Listen. They need to know the sort of person he is. I’m not just talking out of my ass here either. I’m not some lovesick schoolgirl. Facts are facts. He saved my life. He saved me more than once, honestly.” My face clouds over as I remember the way it felt last night. I was so scared. Jax came and made it all better.

“What’s wrong?” Amy stands, walking around the counter. My memories are clouding my mind at this point. “What are you talking about? More than once—what does that mean?”

I look at her, sizing her up. I’ve trusted her before. Can I trust her again? Then I remember how good it felt to finally get my past off my chest when I confessed everything to Jax. There’s shame in secrets. Once those secrets are out in the open, the shame is gone. You might even wonder why you were ashamed in the first place.

“Sit down,” I tell her. “I’ll pour you another tea. I have a story to tell you.”