Page 3 of T-Bone (Steel Demons MC #11)

Faith

M y hotel room looked as if I’d been living in it for two weeks instead of two days.

After leaving the police station, I drove around town to see what else had changed in the years I’d been away, to reacquaint myself with the place that had taken everything from me.

Red Rock was more dilapidated than I remembered, there were more vacant businesses, more signs reminding people that even more businesses were shutting down.

There wasn’t, however, a shortage of strip clubs, bars, gambling dens, and liquor stores, the hallmarks of a town in decline.

It was exactly what I expected to see the moment Red Rock PD shut down the investigation into Chloe’s death and Gemma’s disappearance.

No town that fell under the spell of easy, dirty money survived very long in the aftermath.

I couldn’t prove it three years ago, but I knew the powers that be in Red Rock were in the pocket of the bikers who dominated the town, and now the remnants served as another piece of evidence.

After a depressing stroll down memory lane, I went back to my hotel room and dug into the life and death of Ashley Monroe.

Female, age thirty-two at the time of her death.

She was an artist, who’d seen success in the past few years and had recently started selling some of her more popular works on t-shirts and handbags.

She rented a two-bedroom house on a residential block in Red Rock, which was my first stop after two cups of black coffee and a stale bagel.

I approached a small craftsman with a green door and potted plants on the porch. A petite woman with a head of short, curly hair stood staring at the place. “Excuse me, are you Justine Simmons?” She turned with a dazed expression and an absent nod.

“I am. Can I help you?”

“I’m Faith, a private investigator looking into what happened to Ashley. Did you know her well?”

“Not really, no,” she sniffled and wiped her damp eyes.

“Ashley was the kind of tenant you hope for, quiet and easy. She was my renter for the past seven years and she always paid on time and didn’t give me any problems.” Justine shook her head, still in shock over the sudden death, and probably the crime scene tape still blowing in the wind.

“Anything unusual happen with Ashley in the past few months? Past year?” If she had Gemma for the past few years, where was she now?

“Not unusual but recently, about two and a half years ago she stopped calling for repairs and became more self-sufficient, I guess? I didn’t think much about it at the time. It’s important for a single woman to know basic home repairs, right?”

I smiled. “My father made sure I knew how to change a tire, snake a drain, and turn a screwdriver and a wrench.”

That made her smile. “That’s what I figured, you know? After a bad breakup or a death we have to learn to do the things we relied on him to do. She paid the rent on time and kept the house, so I didn’t think anything of it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Justine, you have nothing to be sorry for. Often, it’s the small details, the ones we don’t think are important that end up being important. Did Ashley go through a breakup recently?”

“No.” She answered in a firm tone. “She told me about a relationship that ended badly but it was four or five years ago. Said she was happily single and had no plans to change it anytime soon.”

I nodded and jotted down a few notes for later. That tracked with her social media status and spending habits. “One last thing Justine, does Ashley have any family?”

“Yeah, a half-brother, I think. She used him as an emergency contact. I can look up the details and get them to you when I get back home. All I remember is that he lives in Steel City.”

Holy shit. My first real lead.

“Thank you, Justine. I know you didn’t know Ashley well but I’m sorry.”

“Me too. She was so young,” she sighed and covered her face with both hands.

I left Justine to her emotions and her crime scene of a home but then I stopped. “Justine, did Ashley have a roommate or a child?”

“Not officially, but there was a woman who stayed with her for a few months, at least that I knew of. Like I said, she was a low maintenance tenant, so I didn’t visit the place often.”

“Thank you.” This was the part I missed about good old-fashioned police work. Chasing down lead after lead until one led you to a detail that made all the difference.

***

As I drove to my next destination, I thought over what I’d learned so far.

The woman who lived with Ashley must’ve been the one who had Gemma.

Was she Ashley’s killer? Had Marcus’ biker friends sold Gemma as payback?

I didn’t have all the details yet, but my hands tingled on the steering wheel as I got closer to Steel City.

“What the fuck?” The place was overrun with bikers, which was unexpected.

Two towns over from Red Rock and sharing the border with Las Vegas, Steel City was an aging industrial town that had managed to survive the death of the American factory.

There were bakeries and cafes, marijuana dispensaries, beauty, and tanning salons.

Unlike Red Rock, this place looked to be booming, even if right now it was overrun with motorcycles and bikers galore.

Chloe’s entire life had changed when she got mixed up with a biker who abused her.

Even when she was pregnant, Marcus hadn’t let his temper stop him from beating her black and blue.

He’d done his best to come between us, to isolate her from me because I refused to accept his bullshit charm.

I’d given her a burner phone to circumvent his efforts, and he never knew.

Still, every new bruise or black eye scared me because I knew the truth.

Statistically was only a matter of time before he killed her, and then he had.

Somehow, it seemed appropriate that I was now surrounded by them.

Men of all shapes and sizes, and even colors.

They weren’t just all white gangs these days even though many were still divided by race, there were several multi-cultural gangs wearing the same leather vests.

Bikers were more organized than your average gang, with a respected hierarchy and executive board that made decisions the rest of the members respected.

They were more like mafia than your average street gang, but they were a gang. Brutal and violent and criminal.

The roar of the engines was loud, mixing in with the rock music that blared from speakers and about two hundred different conversations. The smell of smoked meat and sugary treats wafted on the air and when I rolled down my window, the scent of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air.

This can’t be good.

I passed a sign that read Steel Thunder Moto Rally, which explained why the bikers were all here, but not why this particular town. It had to mean something, I was sure of that much, but I set it aside for later and focused on why I was in Steel City.

Will Kutner was Ashley’s half-brother. They grew up with their mother but had different fathers.

Despite their seemingly close relationship, the only proof of it was regular phone calls at least three times a month.

I pulled into Steel City Motors, which was listed as his current place of employment, and froze behind the steering wheel.

The garage door was open to reveal a dozen bikers and their motorcycles, preparing for the rally that was taking over the town, I figured.

I breathed in and out slowly and then stepped from my car, approaching slowly because I knew these guys were no fans of law enforcement even though I was no longer a detective.

I kept my spine straight and my shoulders squared, and then I cleared my throat.

I swallowed hard as more than a dozen sets of eyes swung my way, angry and hostile but also curious.

It wasn’t the first time I stood in front of a group of pissed off criminals but that did nothing to stop the telltale nervous tingling in my extremities.

They hadn’t moved to kick me out yet, which I took as a good sign and removed my PI badge, flashing it at them. “I’m looking for Will Kutner and word is that he works here.”

Silence was the only answer.

Stone cold silence.