Cowboy Bikers MC Lawmen by Esther E. Schmidt
CHAPTER FOUR
– ATTICUS –
“It’s been two days, you could try not to be pissed at me anymore,” Fisher says as he throws a binder on the table in front of me.
I glare at the fucker. “I could, but I don’t have a problem with having you on my shitlist, VP.” I place my hand on the binder and shove it slightly away from me. “Because for the life of me I still cannot understand why you pulled that shit. Even more when you were the one who was so determined to have her on the case.”
“Check the binder and it will explain more than just my earlier statement about having her checked out and the prospect fucking up. Though, the prospect did fuck up when he took her jewelry. I don’t have issues with the fucker having a rap sheet right now and no fucking way he will ever come near the club ever again. So, it worked out well ’cause we flushed out a bad seed. But with this…I’ll leave the decision up to you if you want to share it with her.”
I tilt my head and raise my eyebrow in question but Fisher just points at the binder and stalks out of church.
Opening the binder, I start to take out the stuff inside and the first thing I see is a picture of Enid’s father along with his personal information. Glancing it over, I turn the page and find the photographs and details about his death.
Enid mentioned he was killed in the line of duty but I didn’t know how or why. It says here he was in pursuit of a suspect and his car crashed. Motherfucker. Now I get what Fisher is saying because Frank Brennan might have died in a car crash due to giving chase on a suspect, but the coroner report says he had a crushed trachea.
Pictures show the airbag was out, the impact with the tree couldn’t have been hard enough to cause death. Why the hell wasn’t there an investigation? I leave all the papers scattered on the table in front of me and stalk to the door.
“Fisher, get the fuck back in here,” I bellow, even if I don’t see the fucker.
Yuma is sitting on the couch and turns his head toward me. “He headed out to the stables, Prez.”
I grunt in response and turn to shove all the papers back into the binder, putting it away in the safe to keep this shit quiet until I’ve had a talk with Fisher. Stalking out, I head for the stables to find my VP.
He’s grooming one of his horses, a black stallion, and I lean against the wall across from them when I ask, “You’re thinking her father was murdered by RedBorder, making the crash a cover up? A bit farfetched don’t you think? Wouldn’t others have raised any flags? His partner for instance? Enid? All of those were close to the case and would have jumped on this detail. It’s the crushed trachea you’re basing all of this on, right?”
Fisher stops brushing the stallion’s coat and places a hand on the animal’s back to stare at me.
“The partner is the one who called it in. Apparently the both of them were at a shop-and-go when there was some kind of turmoil off screen, leaving a man badly injured with a gunshot wound to the chest lying on the floor. I watched the fucking security tapes and nothing is on there because the angle is out of reach. Anyway, according to his partner, Saul Loomis, they heard a shot, rushed to check it out, saw someone get in a car and it hightailed out of there. Frank jumped into their car and went in pursuit while Saul called it in and stayed with the victim.”
“Another officer was the first on scene when Frank crashed his car. He didn’t see anyone hanging around the accident? Did you do a follow up on any of it or is it just a hunch?” I question.
Fuck, this is frustrating. The whole incident can spike the link to the serial killer while it all screams an unfortunate accident during a pursuit.
“I just gathered information about her father and about Frankie since her father also mentioned her name on his notes. She made great suggestions and it stuck with me. Then, when she was called to the scene of the copycat the name popped into my head. I’d like to hear her opinion about all of it but I had trust issues due to that shit involving her father. Hell, with Nyla being the last one found dead right after he fucking died my mind even went to the thought of Frank being the killer because the murders have stopped.”
Fuck. I didn’t even think of that. I take off my Stetson and rub the back of my neck and mutter a few curses.
“Get that look off your face. I checked. He’s caught on surveillance tape for most of the murders so he has an alibi. But it’s all fucked-up and twisted. I should go talk to Frankie, explain everything,” Fisher says and pats the horse’s back. “I’m also going to check into her father’s accident some more, just to see if I can get some evidence of my suspicions.”
He slides the halter off the horse’s head and steps out of the stall, locking the stallion inside.
I nod and place my Stetson back on my head. “We’ll both go.”
Fisher jerks his chin in the direction of the exit. “Maybe we should send your mother over first to smooth things over.”
Swinging my head in that direction I cringe. “Yeah, no. If I do that, she might smooth things over but she’ll be doing it by handing Enid my balls along with it.” I glance at my VP who chuckles. “If she knew I wanted the sexy special agent in my bed she’d only hear wedding bells and wouldn’t stop playing matchmaker until we give her a fucking grandchild.”
Fisher’s chuckle abruptly stops and I realize my mistake.
I reach out and grab his shoulder to give a squeeze. “Dammit, sorry, brother.”
He shrugs me off and nods. “Let’s go, we have more stuff to do.” He starts walking and adds over his shoulder, “Meet you out front in five.”
“Hello, Fisher,” my mother says as she strolls past him.
“Savana.” He inclines his head. “Looking beautiful as ever.”
My mother gives a light chuckle but it stops when Fisher adds, “I have to go. Your son here is dragging me off to grovel in front of his future old lady. Have a great day, ma’am.”
Motherfucker.
With a stunned face my mother watches Fisher jog off toward the clubhouse. He’d better fucking jog because I want to shoot him in the fucking ass for saying that to my damn mother. I’m pretty sure it’s payback for me mentioning the shit about wedding bells and a grandchild because it’s the stuff he had planned with Nyla and it’s been taken from him.
Hell, Nyla found out she was pregnant the morning she was murdered and the only ones who knew were Fisher and Nyla. He told me about it after the funeral, fucking gut-wrenching.
“What was that all about?” my mother questions when she comes to a stop in front of me, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arching toward the ceiling while she crosses her arms; expecting to get a truthful answer right here, right fucking now.
“We brought a special agent onto the serial killer case but Fisher let a prospect go through her house to check her out. She caught him in the act and we confessed it was us who screened her house. Fucking prospect took her ma’s jewelry so we had to kick him out. We fucked up before we could start working the case.”
“Atticus Clarence Enoch Wolffield,” my mother snaps.
If there ever was a time and place to let the ground swallow me whole, it’s when my mother rattles off all my damn names in the tone of voice only a mother can.
I hang my head and mutter, “It was Fisher. I didn’t even know what the fucker did until I was walking the woman back to the clubhouse after our horseback ride. He texted me only a minute before she was heading for her car to drive home.”
My mother’s face lights up and I know I just slipped up.
I cringe and hold up my hands, “Ma, it’s not–”
“Oh, nonsense! You like her, admit it. You never once took a woman out for a horseback ride. Tell me this much: what horse did you put her on?”
I release a deep sigh and know what’s coming but I admit anyway, “Baby.”
She knows what my choice of horse means. And, yeah, there it is; the mother of all grins spreads across her face. I swear I see wedding bells swinging back and forth in her eyes.
“Gotta go, Ma,” I mutter and stalk past her.
“Make me proud and grovel, boy. Explain how it was Fisher and then grovel some more. If it doesn’t work, I’ll swing by. No worries, honey, it will all work out if it’s meant to be,” my mother rambles against my back and I wave a hand in the air to acknowledge her words without turning back.
I head straight for my bike and see Fisher is already straddling his. “We’ll swing by her place first.”
Fisher gives a curt shake. “I just called the prospect who has eyes on her. She’s at a diner across town having something to eat with her partner, Jessy.”
I try to take a calming breath but this fucker is testing my patience. “And why the fuck would there be a prospect keeping tabs on her?”
“You act like your dick is between a door when it comes to her so I thought keeping an eye on her to make sure she’s safe was a good thing.” The corner of his mouth twitches.
“Stop taking lead on everything yourself and run shit by me next time, VP,” I grunt and ride off without waiting for a reply.
The ride is too short for my temper to settle down. Maybe I was wrong to think he’s still functioning after the loss of his old lady. He keeps pulling crazy shit without discussing it with me first.
He falls in step beside me when we walk into the diner and I feel the need to remind him again to make sure he knows, “Discuss shit with me before taking action, Fisher. I fucking mean it.”
I notice the tick in his jaw and his annoyance shows when he doesn’t give me a straight answer but merely nods. Stalking to the counter, I order a coffee and glance around to see where Enid is.
“Left corner, like the prospect mentioned, she’s with Captain Douchebag,” Fisher dryly states.
I wait for my coffee and it’s no surprise I lock eyes with Enid two breaths later. She’s perceptive and it’s also why I’m pissed Fisher put a prospect on her. I’m betting she spotted him the second she went anywhere; she’s a special agent for fuck’s sake. My coffee is placed in front of me and I hand the woman behind the counter some money and stalk over to Enid.
“A word, please?” I ask and try to get her alone.
I’m pretty sure she’s going to decline but she surprises me by standing up. “Fine, but the clock is ticking and I ain’t got all day. So, let’s get this over with because I’m pretty sure you will find another way to force me to talk to you if I decline.”
Her lush ass is walking out of the diner in front of me and I can’t help but keep my eyes pinned to it.
“Eyes, Atticus. Apologies start most times without the need for making more.” The sigh she releases after those words sounds like she has tons pressing down on her chest.
“Fisher is the one needing to give you an apology. Though, I will take full responsibility. I didn’t know he had someone go through your stuff until we got back from our horseback ride. And I didn’t know until mere minutes ago that he had a prospect keeping an eye on you,” I confess. “And I sure as fuck didn’t know he had suspicions about your father’s death. Fisher has issues, a truckload of ’em, but on the other hand, I now kinda understand where he’s coming from when he told me some of it.” I rub the back of my neck and stare into the distance. “I’d like for us to go over the file he gave me along with his explanation of why he did what he did. I have to be honest here, I don’t know what to think. But I do know I’d like your opinion and your help with catching RedBorder.”
She blinks slowly and asks in a very thin voice, “Fisher thinks my father’s death wasn’t an accident? It’s the crushed trachea. Obviously, it crossed my mind too…but…that would be the only similarities. Wait. Does he think he got too close? Maybe knew who it was?”
I hate mentioning this but I get the feeling holding back stuff will only push her away. “Fisher even mentioned he thought your father was RedBorder.”
We both cringe and I’m glad she sees the logical explanation for him to jump to this thought when she says, “Because the murders stopped.”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat.
Her shoulders sag and I hate seeing her disheveled. For some reason I want to reach out and wrap my arms around her. Instead, I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
“I get it,” she ultimately says. “This is personal for him and he sees things differently. It’s logical for him to doubt and question everything.”
“This is also why I want to bring you in, and why Fisher also wanted you on this case. You’re an outsider, fresh eyes on the case. Even if you clearly helped your father brainstorm when he was working on it, it’s different if you join our team.”
Her head bobs and I feel as if a weight is shoved off my chest.
“Let’s get back inside before Fisher picks a fight with Jessy,” I say, half joking but to be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me if he did. “And I’m glad I’m forgiven because my mother warned me she’d meet up with you if I didn’t grovel enough.”
A laugh bubbles from her and I give her a smile in return as I place my hand on her lower back and guide her back into the diner.
I lean in close. “I wasn’t kidding about my mother, and I feel the need to warn you if you happen to run into her. Which, by the way, is unavoidable since you’re back on the case.”
“Warn me?” The corner of her mouth twitches and it draws my attention to her naturally cherry-tinted lips and it makes me wonder if they would taste the same way and if her nipples have the same delicious color.
I swallow at the dryness in my throat and force my gaze to meet her eyes. “Yeah, she’s gonna play matchmaker. I knew it the moment she asked what horse I put you on when I let it slip how I took you horseback riding.”
Curiosity overtakes her face. “And why would it matter what horse you put me on?”
Ignoring her question, I mutter, “I didn’t expect to find those two laughing together.”
Enid follows my gaze. “Jessy knows a lot of dirty jokes and gets along with everyone, I’m sure he cracked one or two to break the ice.”
“Good to know,” I muse and step forward to join them but a small hand on my chest stops me.
“Why did it matter that you had me ride Baby?”
Shit. I was kinda hoping she’d let it slide.
Reluctantly I admit, “She was the last one I added to train and own for myself. When I bought her, my father mentioned how I already had three horses and didn’t need one more. You know how horses live for a long time? Well, I made an excuse how this one was special. How I bought and trained Baby to hopefully become my old lady’s horse. And yeah, she has become my favorite horse. Add in the fact that I indeed never let anyone else ride her.” I shrug because there really isn’t anything else to say.
Her hand–which didn’t move throughout my statement–pats my chest. “Thank you. And I do hope you let me ride her again because I really enjoyed it. And in light of all of us being honest and admitting things? During our ride I even wanted to ask if I could ride her more often or even buy her from you.”
Most definitely not a reply I was expecting and I can’t help but tease, “Are you trying to get the old lady status by riding my horse?”
She gives my chest a push, snorts, and mutters, “That would require me to ride you, not your horse.”
I throw my head back and bark out my laughter. Fuck. This woman is unlike the ones I met. And I’ve met a large variety in my life. I’m not talking about those I had a one-night stand with but more in the lines of women I’ve encountered during work or through the MC life.
The female motorcycle club we recently visited to help solve a case for instance. Instead of brothers, Valorous Sally MC is filled with sisters. Each of them a different character and unique in their own way but the enticing woman now walking toward Jessy and Fisher is one of a kind. I follow her to the table and sit down to drink my warm as piss coffee.
Fisher and I stay for another handful of minutes before the both of us get on our bikes and head back to the clubhouse. The both of us satisfied to know Enid will be here bright and early tomorrow morning.
Once home I feel the need to check on my horses. I always swing by them at the end of the day; they have a calming effect on me. Depending on the day and time I like to add some riding or grooming but today I’m simply leaning my forearms on Baby’s stall and keeping her company.
“I thought I’d find you here,” my mother cheerfully quips while I internally groan. “And? How did the groveling go?”
“She’ll be here tomorrow bright and early to work on the case with us.”
My mother’s face lights up and she puts her hands together to hold them folded against her chest at heart level.
“Ma,” I groan. “Could you stop seeing shit that isn’t there? I haven’t even kissed the woman. It’s just my body sparking with interest when I see her.”
“Sparks with interest, huh?” she challenges. “And how many women haven’t you touched who triggered some part of your body.”
Dammit. I should have known she would twist my words, grab your whole hand when you give her one finger, and all of that.
“Fine,” I snap, unable to keep my thoughts to myself. “She’s different than any woman I’ve met and I like to treat her differently as well. And yes, she’s old lady material but I just met her. Can you please give me room to let me work on this myself before you bombard a woman I don’t even know if she shares–”
“Sparks of interest when she sees you,” my mother finishes for me with humor lacing her words.
“Right,” I grumble.
My mother places her hand on my forearm and gives me an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll try to restrain myself but only because you honestly admitted to me about the fact this woman does spark the knowledge inside you that says she might be the one. Something you need to wrap your head around and come to terms with how to act because you screwed up once already.” She tsks when I’m about to mention how it was Fisher’s fault. “Just be yourself and do what feels right.”
“If it was that easy, I would have kissed her today,” I grumble.
“You should have. Never let your fate hang in the balance of easy or hard, Atticus. In this world second chances aren’t always given. Besides, spur of the moment actions are based on gut instincts and you should always follow your gut no matter if you fail. Kiss her next time and make it memorable. Your father did. Our first kiss was in the middle of a police station and I didn’t even know who he was, or his name for that matter. But he knew, and for him it was enough to risk a shot to see what my reaction was. Us standing here right now is proof enough sparks flew the second our lips touched.”
I keep staring at my mother’s back as she walks out of the stable. Her words settle and I know next time the thought crosses my mind I will kiss Enid; consequences be damned.
