Chapter Eleven
The next two days fell into a routine. Dinners took place around the table, even if it happened to be takeout two days in a row. She discovered North couldn’t even boil water and Givon relied heavily on frozen dinners. For breakfast, Allis scrambled eggs and made toast while Givon made coffee. They’d sit and talk about what their days held then Givon would kiss her goodbye as he left for work. North would settle her on the porch with a book while he worked on the barn. He was doing a great job and it was starting to look like a barn again. Today he was reinforcing the structure, ripping out old, rotting pieces of wood and replacing it with newer boards. North gazing had become her favorite pastime.
He looked up and out toward the road a second before she heard the sound of a motorcycle. She followed his gaze and a moment later, a large man on a Harley pulled onto the gravel driveway. He waved to North as he pulled to a stop and planted his feet on the ground before shutting off the engine. North hurried toward him and shook the man’s hand.
“What brings you by, Draven?” North asked.
“Need to talk,” the other man said, taking off his helmet. His long brown hair touched his shoulder and his deep brown eyes held a smile as he looked at her. “I’m John Draven. His VP.”
“Allis,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he answered.
The two men walked away together and she knew it must be club business. She didn’t know much about what it meant to be in a motorcycle club and she pictured it like an Elks Lodge where they had secret handshakes and a Grand Poobah. Of course, that would make North the Grand Poobah. She giggled, picturing him wearing some sort of ceremonial hat that had horns and fur.
* * * *
“You haven’t been by in two days,” Draven told him. The bite in his words made North frown.
“You got a problem?” North asked him.
Draven blew out a breath between clenched teeth. “You went from being there all the time to never showing up. Men are coming to me for decisions.”
“You’re my VP,” North reminded him. “I trust your decisions.”
“It shouldn’t be me, North. That’s what I’m trying to say. You’re the leader of the Wolves, not me.”
North ran a dirty hand through his sweaty hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just got caught up with being here.”
Draven looked around, his gaze falling on Allis. “Well, I can’t blame you for that. This is a pretty nice spread and your Allis is smokin’ hot.”
“Hey, now,” North warned.
Draven smiled. “Is she going to be your old lady?”
“I don’t know,” North answered. “She’s still recovering from her bullet wound, so that discussion hasn’t really evolved.”
“They find the fucker who shot her?”
“The fucker was found with a bullet in his head.”
“What?” Draven asked incredulously. “You?”
“Nope.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“I haven’t a clue. Giv and I went to talk to her stalker cop but he alibied out, of course.”
“Cops always do,” Draven said with a snort.
North knew his VP had no love for the badge. “Not all cops are bad,” he reminded Draven.
“So you keep saying, and I know Givon is a decent man, but it was a cop who killed Tom.”
“I know,” North said, placing a comforting hand on Draven’s shoulder.
“Hey, now. Don’t go getting all teary eyed on me.”
“Fuck you,” North said good-naturedly and shoved Draven back.
“That’s better,” Draven replied with a grin. “Before I go, I wanted you to know that the first part of Bryman’s money has been delivered to the shop and it’s in the process of being laundered as we speak.”
“Guess that means I need a new tattoo?”
“We all need new tattoos,” Draven said dryly. “I have the first mule run scheduled in a few days.”
“Who is going and where?”
“Me. I’m running it down to Vegas.”
“Just you?”
“A good faith run.”
“Fuck that. I want someone with you.”
“I’ll take Skids.”
“Okay. But tell him to calm the fuck down with his happy trigger finger. Got it?”
Draven nodded.
“And I’ll be in tomorrow,” North added.
“Okay,” Draven said, obviously relieved at the news.
“You want some coffee before you leave?”
“Nah. I’ll let you get back to playing house.”
“Fuck off.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” Draven taunted and saluted him before sauntering off to his bike. He started it up and roared away as North walked back to where Allis sat on the porch.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Just peachy. I have to go to the clubhouse tomorrow. Seems the boys are missing me.”
“I guess so if you used to live there. Is it like…your job?”
“Technically, I’m part owner of a tattoo parlor so that’s what I list on my tax return, which reminds me that I have to go into the parlor soon. Time for another tat.”
“Can I go with you?”
“Sure.”
“Maybe I’ll get one.”
He tried to imagine her with a tattoo. He would have to think of a great one and where it should go on that delectable body of hers.
“Let’s wait until your stitches come out, but definitely I’ll take you,” he told her with a smile.
* * * *
Givon sat at his desk and shot another impatient look at the clock. Only two minutes had passed since the last time he’d checked it. For some reason, today seemed to be dragging by like monkey balls.
The phone on his desk rang, startling him. He quickly picked up.
“Sheriff Halloran.”
“Hello, Sheriff,” a female said. “This is Molly at the crime lab in Riverton. I’m calling because ballistics came back on that bullet you brought us. It matches a three-year-old cold case.”
“What cold case?”
“I’m emailing you the report now, as well as our ballistics test, but basically a woman was found shot just outside a town called Durango. She’d been listed as a missing person by her boss and her body was found three days later with a bullet in her back.”
Givon’s heart sped up. “Is the lead investigator listed on the report?”
“It is.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the quick turn around.”
“I hope this helps, Sheriff.”
When he hung up with Molly from the Crime Lab, he opened his email and downloaded the file. He read it from top to bottom twice, making sure he hadn’t missed a thing. So Allis hadn’t been Michael Hiller’s first victim. How many other women had the man abducted?
And if Hiller’s hunting ground was Durango, the question came back to why had he brought Allis to Destiny?
Givon spent the rest of the day on the phone trying to dig up any information about Michael Hiller, his connection to Destiny and how many other women had gone missing in and around Durango. The lead detective from the cold case, Banks Harmon, invited him to come by the next day to investigate Michael Hiller’s house.
“Hey, Boss,” Jack said as he knocked on Givon’s open door. “Got a second?”
“Sure,” he said. Ever since Jack’s impassioned little speech back at the hospital, Givon had decided to ease up and give him the benefit of the doubt. “What’s up?”
Jack held up the morgue photo of Michael Hiller. “Is this the man that dressed up as a doctor to hurt Allison Evening?”
“Yes.”
“He’s also the chicken man. You know, the story you didn’t believe? This was him.”
The honesty and fire shining in Jack’s eyes had shame pumping through Givon. He stood up. “I’m sorry, Jack. I was wrong.”
Jack shrugged. “I suppose if I’d been in your shoes, I would’ve thought it was me or Sandy as well. And I guess I’m the more logical since I’m new.”
“I won’t doubt you again,” Givon said and held out his hand. After a moment, Jack shook it.