Page 16

Chapter Fifteen

Fitz

I drove home, the sensation of Sawyer’s beard still tickling my lips from kissing his cheek. I pulled into the driveway and opened the garage. Thankfully, the trick-or-treaters had finished up for the night.

Once I had the truck parked inside, I walked out and stepped behind the cactus. There, in the rocks, was the pumpkin Sawyer had mentioned. I picked it up and went in through the garage, closing the door and heading into the kitchen.

I poured out the candy and studied the stuffed skeleton with the heart behind its rib cage. It was adorable. What did it mean? I saw a little card attached to the handle of the pumpkin.

It was truly sweet, and I found myself longing to share the licorice with Sawyer after he fucked my brains out—or I fucked his out. Then, I’d snuggle up next to the sexy biker and sleep like a log.

Sadly, I was sure he was long gone to Pahrump. I couldn’t push him aside any longer. He was under my skin, and I’d never been more excited by anyone.

My phone had buzzed on the bathroom vanity as I was getting out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around me, feeling a chill in the air as I picked up the device to see a message from my favorite obsession.

Fitz—call me when you’re up, please. I had a thought. Sawyer

I dropped the towel and almost lost the phone while trying to catch it. I hurried out of the bathroom and over to the nightstand to see the pumpkin with the small card attached that had his number. I’d deleted it from my phone like an idiot after our only date had gone so poorly.

It rang twice. “Abbott.”

“Hey, Sawyer. Is this a bad time?” Loud noise filled the background.

“Hang on a sec, please.” The background sounds quickly diminished. “You still there?”

I laughed. “Yeah. Everything okay?” I went to the dresser and got myself a pair of boxer briefs. I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder while I pulled them on. I went to the closet to find a dress shirt and a pair of khaki pants for the day.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for calling me back. Would you have time after work to go to the East Adkisson house with me to talk to TJ. You’re probably much better at getting answers than me, and I’m afraid I’ll lose my temper with him if he clams up.”

Duh, he couldn’t see me nodding. “Yeah, sure. What time? I’ll take off and drive out to the clubhouse, or I can meet you somewhere else if that’s easier for you.”

I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about me showing up at the Cowboys’ clubhouse—or how I’d feel about showing up there when I didn’t know anyone else in the club. I had no idea what Sawyer had told— if Sawyer had told—anyone about me. What the hell would he even have to tell—that we’d jacked each other in the bed of his truck one night and he couldn’t wait to get away from me after?

Would I be accepted at their club even though I’d been in law enforcement. Or was I more worried I wouldn’t be accepted because I was gay?

I hadn’t actually seen Sawyer in all his biker glory with his club cut or jacket, though I’d seen the sexy man on that beast of a machine a couple of times. Was the Sawyer I’d come to know from that one night the same Sawyer his fellow Cowboys knew?

“Would you mind meeting me at the club’s restaurant at four? It’s called The Roundup. It’s on Hafen Ranch Road, about four miles from NV-160. Or I can come get you if that’s easier.” Sawyer’s voice was soft and unsure, which made my heart pound.

Sawyer was sexy, sort of reserved at times, and he had an air about him that told me he was a born leader who would easily entice others to follow him. It was no wonder he was the president of an outlaw motorcycle club. I had the feeling he wasn’t completely good or completely bad, and I wasn’t sure where I stood with that.

“Sure. I’ll see you at the restaurant at four.” We ended the call, and I tossed my phone on the bed and took a seat on the side to stew for a few minutes.

I’d been in the military for years, and then I joined the US Marshals Service where I worked for a good long stint. For most of my life I’d been on what most people deemed was the right side of the law. On the side of justice.

As I pondered the many things that had happened over the years while I was a deputy US Marshal, I had to wonder what justice even looked like anymore. Every day, the type of justice I believed in seemed further and further from what I’d seen around me on television, social media, or in person.

I finished dressing and headed to the office. Sparky was already there and huffing as he stood in the kitchen. “Good morning,” I said as I stepped into the room and waited for my turn at the coffee pot.

“Is it? Is it a good morning?”

I was surprised at Sparky’s mood. He wasn’t Sally Sunshine by any stretch, but usually, he was decent in the morning when we started the workday.

“Everything okay?” He finished filling his mug and stepped away, just as Denise came into the kitchen with a box of donuts.

“Good morning, Fitz. Donut?” Denise smirked at me as Sparky stomped out of the kitchen.

Once his door slammed, I turned to her. “What’s going on? Where’s Monty?”

Denise giggled. “He’s at the courthouse for a hearing. He’ll be back soon.”

“What’s the mood about?” I poured myself a cup of coffee and pulled a mug from the cabinet for Denise, filling it.

“Thank you, Fitz. Yesterday, you brought an old friend of Sparky’s here after you bailed him out. Albert Wilcox. Sparky took him into his office and Monty joined them when he got back. Sparky stormed out just as I was leaving. I have no idea what went down, but Monty called the guy a cab and went after Sparky. That’s all I know.”

“Well, I hope they work it out. What time does Hardy get in?” I needed more information about TJ Middleton and his grandfather before I went to meet Sawyer.

“Uh, he has class today, so he doesn’t get in until one or one thirty, depending on whether he stops for lunch. You need some help? I know a little about computers. I used to do research for Lanny Stork. God knows that cheap bastard wouldn’t pay for help.” Denise walked out of the kitchen but returned a minute later with her laptop.

I’d heard about Lanny Stork, the bondsman Denise worked for before she came to Sparks. He was out of business now, according to my coworkers, because he was a lazy bastard who tried to get something for nothing at every turn, and the people who knew him got sick of it. The guy was a slimeball by all accounts.

Denise, however, was a great assistant to us all, but what I needed would require some hacking that I didn’t think Denise could pull off. “Can you check arrest records for me?” That much I was sure she could handle.

“Sure. Name and DOB, if you have it. Are they local?” Denise opened the lid of her laptop, fingers poised over the keys.

“Not sure of DOB, but the name is Thomas James Middleton. From what I know, he’s a resident of Pahrump. He has a courtesan… uh, sex worker certificate from the state. I’d like to have anything you can find on him. He was arrested a few weeks ago—we should have that date and the case number in the files,” I said.

“I’ll see what I can find.” Denise stood, taking her laptop and coffee with her.

Once she was settled at her desk, I called Lawry Schatz. I knew Hardy had great research skills, but Casper had worked for the CIA. He knew his shit.

“GEA-A. Lawry Schatz. How can I help you?”

I remembered I’d gotten a new cell phone with a Nevada area code. “Casper? It’s me, Fitz. How are you?”

His deep laugh made me smile. “I’m good, man. How’s the desert? I’m trying to talk Max into coming out for a mini vacation after we go see my family in Missouri at Thanksgiving.”

“Hey, I’m going to guess the weather is better here than in Missouri.”

“No doubt. What can I do for you, man?” Lawry was a great guy who’d do anything for anyone in need. I missed those guys.

“I’m sorry to bother you with this stuff again, but I need a deep dive into that guy I had you look into a bit ago. Thomas James Middleton, alias TJ Middleton. You have a lot of info on him, but I need to know more about the kid—family, known acquaintances, stuff like that.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Two more. Can you look into a fella named Ricky Marlow? He’s a member of the Pahrump Steel Cowboys. He may or may not have a criminal record. Also, Jimmy Germaine, a boxing coach at a gym in Vegas, Boxed In. He promotes fights, I think.”

Casper chuckled. “Anyone else? The President of the United States, maybe?”

I snickered. “Not right now, thanks. If you can talk your husband into coming to Vegas, I’ll take you out for a good steak dinner.”

“I’ll work on these things between tasks. You’re settling in out there?”

“So far. It’s a laid-back town—if you’re not on The Strip. Nice neighborhoods and decent neighbors. It’s spread out, which is what I’m used to in Texas.” There was no need to tell Lawry it could be a lonely place. I hoped that was about to change.

“I’m glad, Fitz. Things here have been mostly calm. Will you be able to come to New York for Christmas? Parker Colson, Smokey’s husband, hired Max’s company to help coordinate the family dinner that’s going to be held at Blue Plate this year. It’d be nice if you could come.”

I appreciated the invite, but I was heading to Midland to see my parents. I dare not hope I’d have a plus one to take along.

“Put me down as a maybe. I might be headed to Texas, but I haven’t made plans yet. I’ll get back to you about it.” That was the least I could do.

“Okay, man. I’ll get on this and let you know what I find. Have a great weekend.”

Casper and I ended our call just as I heard the bell over the front door jingle. I needed to store my gun in my desk, so I headed out to the swamp to see Monty and Sparky come into the building, both smiling. That was a relief.

Now, I just needed to take a breath and prepare for my meet-up with Sawyer later in the day.