Chasing Thunder (24 page)

He nodded. “I’ll call Jack.” After a beat he asked, “So what now?”

“I think I need to pay a visit to dear old Dad,” she said. “If they have to connect any dots, that might as well be the first.”

“M.J.,” he cautioned.

“And who knows?” She stole his last link of sausage. “He might actually get the job done this time.”

It took them nearly an hour to get back to her apartment in Hollywood. He raced off without a kiss goodbye. She would never allow him to remove his helmet and expose his face now that they were in the city, much less demonstrate any real show of emotion. In her line of work, PDAs could get someone killed.

Instead, he gave her a wink and she offered a salute.

When he was safely out of sight, she hopped aboard her own bike and sped toward the police department. No one was more surprised than M.J. to find a strong press presence at the building when she got there. She kept her head low as she blended in with the crowd.

“Chief Bennett,” one of the reporters shouted. “What did you hope to accomplish by the raid on Slick?”

Her eyes widened and her eyes shot to her father. Behind him stood Kelly Harris, Landers, and another lawman she immediately knew was a federal agent.

“We were given a tip from a trusted source,” her father said. “It alerted us to some criminal activity on the premises. Working with federal agents, we arrived at Slick by dawn. After a thorough investigation, we found these charges to be unsubstantiated.”

Her heart sank. That son of a bitch had managed to hide everything. Again.

“What were you hoping to find?” another reporter asked.

“We were informed of possible sex trafficking and underage prostitution. Given our high-profile case with the Hard Candy Killer, who targets such victims, we were compelled to take this allegation very seriously. Mr. Isbecky, the proprietor of Slick, fully cooperated with our investigation. He allowed us full access to his club as well as his records to ensure that the only entertainment to be found there is legal.” His eyes, which had scanned the reporters in front of him, landed on his daughter. “No further questions,” he said. He ended the impromptu press conference and headed back to his office.

M.J. stalked down the hallway unchallenged. Most knew who she was, of course, but it was her “fuck-off” expression that parted the throng of people in front of her.

She stomped into her father’s office, where Kelly, Landers, and the agent sat in chairs facing the desk. Richard Bennett was standing behind it. “What the fuck?” she exclaimed as she slammed the door shut behind her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“M.J.,” Richard acknowledged. “You know Harry and Kelly. This is Benjamin Llewellyn, federal agent.”

“I don’t give a shit if he’s the king of fucking England,” she spat. “Why in God’s name would you raid that club?”

Kelly stood. “Because you said there was a possibility of underage prostitutes. After the girl you supposedly saved didn’t show up at the diner where you had me waste a whole night, we knew we couldn’t afford to sit on this information.”

“Supposedly?” she echoed.

“Yeah, supposedly,” he answered. “Like you
supposedly
sent the other witness off to God knows where, when you probably have her hidden in another friend’s motel in town. Like you
supposedly
were going to work with me on getting her out of there, but ditched me at the last minute to do whatever the hell you wanted to do.”

She squared off on Kelly. “I did what had to be done, asshole.”

He turned to Richard. “Please let me arrest her. Please. As a personal favor.”

“Everyone calm down,” Richard responded. He turned back to M.J. “Look. We need these two girls. They are the only witnesses we have on this serial killer. Some small-time hood like Isbecky doesn’t concern me.”

“Small-time,” she snorted. “He fucking caught all of you with your pants down and you still underestimate him. Unbelievable.”

“Either way,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “We will do whatever needs to be done to find and protect these girls.”

“Thanks for the warning,” she shot back. She turned for the door but Kelly was already there, blocking her path. He pointed back toward her father. She glared daggers into his soul before she turned back around. Benjamin Llewellyn was on his feet with an outstretched hand. She glared hard at him until he finally dropped it.

“We really could use your help finding this girl,” he said. “What she was wearing, where she was going.”

“Where you’re hiding her,” Kelly interjected, but Llewellyn pressed on. “Anything to ensure she doesn’t end up in the wrong hands.”

“She was already
in
the wrong hands,” she snapped. “Which was why I was willing to entrust her with you guys, and handed her over signed, sealed, and delivered. But someone,” she growled as she glanced back at Kelly, “fucked it all up. You had one fucking job, dude. One!”

Richard wasn’t interested in her hissy fit. “What do you mean she was in the wrong hands? You think Isbecky is somehow linked to the homicides?”

She turned back to her father. “I found her in one of his specialty rooms upstairs. A green one. Designed just for the pedophile that’s hungering for some hard candy.”

All men shared a look before Richard finally told her, “There was no green room upstairs, M.J.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And I’m telling you there was.” The room filled with silence as she stared from officer to officer. Finally she looked her father right in the eye. “You think I’m lying?” He said nothing. With his clenched jaw, he really didn’t have to. “Well, one thing’s for fucking certain. You can always be counted upon for your consistency,
Dick
.”

She turned back toward the door, and this time Kelly backed down and let her pass. After she left, he looked at his superior helplessly. “You’re just going to let her go?”

“How else will we know where she hid her?” Richard countered.

With that, the other men were dismissed. Their unspoken directive: follow M.J. Bennett wherever she happened to go. It was a race to the finish to find Tammy before the Hard Candy Killer did.

18. BORN TO BE WILD

I
t was nine o’clock the next morning when Snake, Baby, and Kid arrived at Wyndryder. Most of the journey getting there was spent at a standstill in the middle of rush hour traffic. Classic rock played on the radio. Nobody talked much. The kids could sense Snake’s pensive mood and they treaded lightly around it. Baby didn’t ask about getting a tattoo. Kid didn’t confess that he had spent all night online talking to his best buddy, Maddox. And Snake offered no real information at all.

They picked up donuts on the way into the shop, which made them very popular with the morning crew. Neither Baby nor Kid could hang around the mechanics’ area, so they shadowed Jimmy around the shop. They swept, they rearranged merchandise, they folded shirts and unpacked the shipment that came in the afternoon. It felt so good to be doing something, to be a part of something, that Baby would have done it all for free.

She kept an eye on Snake, who remained quiet as he did his work. It didn’t escape her notice that he was watching both her and Kid very carefully. Suddenly she worried that maybe something had happened to M.J., but Kid assured her that it was just her way. She’d appear and disappear on a whim.

Baby knew something else was going on, but she was too afraid to ask any questions to which she might not want answers. So she worked quietly and efficiently until Snake collected them to go eat lunch at the pier. They ate corn dogs and drank fresh lemonade as they sat in the sand, watching the surf roll in. Their conversation was sparse, at least until Kid brought up the tattoo. She shot him a stern look to back off, but was stunned when Snake was immediately receptive to the idea.

“What kind of tattoo were you thinking?” he asked, and she sputtered in response.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really decided on an idea yet.”

He nodded. “It’s an important decision. Unlike getting married, you’re stuck with a tattoo for the rest of your life.”

He gave her that sideways grin and they all laughed. “You’d really let me do it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Who am I to
let
you do anything? Your body, your choice. That’s my philosophy.”

“Until someone wants to gauge his ears,” Kid shot back.

Snake tossed a French fry in his direction. “Excuse me, sir, but I don’t think you need to make the holes in your head any bigger.” He glanced back at Baby. “I’ll call a friend of mine. Maybe he can drop by the shop this week.”

“How about the house?” Kid suggested, which drew Snake’s attention. “Maybe, we can, I don’t know, have a get-together or something.”

Snake’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Kid took a deep breath. “I called Maddy,” he finally confessed. “We want to hang out.”

“I see,” Snake replied quietly.

“My body, my choice?” Kid offered, and Snake sighed.

“I’m not your warden, Kid.”

Kid scoffed. “Could have fooled me.”

Snake studied his little brother, who was becoming more of a man every single day. “In that case, you’re not officially up for parole until August. But I suppose I could give you time off for good behavior.”

Kid’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

Snake nodded. He’d done the best he could for all these years. He knew he had to let Kid grow up and stand on his own, to be his own man, no matter who that man turned out to be. He would just have to trust that he had given him all the tools he would need to take a better path.

Kid was walking on air as they headed back to the shop, but Baby could tell something was eating Snake. She touched his hand with a smile, which he returned. But nothing further was spoken as they entered the shop and finished their shifts.

Chief Richard Bennett swung open the heavy door at the Snake Pit, and Llewellyn followed him inside. It had been a rough day for all of them after that bogus bust at Slick. Richard couldn’t believe that he had gone all in on his daughter’s nonsense, especially since she had made it clear years ago that nothing would bring her more joy than seeing him destroyed.

He ordered a couple of beers and led Llewellyn to a table by the jukebox, where he loaded up Skynyrd, Boston, and BTO. “Cold beer and good music,” he said as he toasted the young agent. “Doesn’t get any better than that.”

Llewellyn indulged the toast and took a sip, looking around the funky old bar. “Different,” he commented with an approving nod. “How’d you find this place?”

Richard shrugged. “Belonged to a family friend. I practically grew up here. My first adult job was tending bar.”

“You’ve come a long way since then,” Llewellyn replied.

Richard offered another shrug. “Some days I think so. Some days I think I’m still that clueless eighteen-year-old.”

Llewellyn sighed. “You can’t beat yourself up over the bust. You had to act on the information, even if it was false. Always err on the side of safety.”

Richard linked his hands together and rested his chin on his fingers. “I just don’t get it. Why would she lie? What does it benefit her if she didn’t want us to act on it?”

“Who says she didn’t?”

Richard shook his head. “This was different. This wasn’t a game. She’s desperate.”

“But is she desperate enough to use any kind of diversion to camouflage her real intent? We were all so busy last night that she could have easily shuffled the witness out of town. It was just a shell game.”

Again, Richard shook his head. He didn’t think that was it. She was hurt that he didn’t believe her. He had seen it in her eyes. That meant that she cared if he believed her. And she wouldn’t if it had been just another game.

“So what’s the deal between you two anyway?” Llewellyn asked as he took another sip.

“You mean they didn’t brief you?” he asked.

Llewellyn laughed. “I know the facts. Doesn’t mean I know the story.”

Richard took a deep breath. “Her mother died when she was four. My mom and dad stepped in to care for her while I worked. But it was hard on her. She had nightmares, terrible nightmares. Didn’t get much better when she was awake. It only took a few months to realize that she needed more than I could give. I was juggling my own grief and I had no clue what to do with a traumatized little girl. Work was easier.”