Chapter 11

Rage

M y attempt to be eyes on with Malcolm Whitmore blew apart yesterday when Meli texted to let me know that Priscilla needed me. She sent me some cryptic message about how I should talk to her about the past and her daughter. The only thing I can make out of the situation is that Meli thinks I need to be more welcoming of Mia and she’s worried I might not want to look after another man’s kid. Little does the woman know that I’m already spoiling that little girl so hard Prisilla is giving me the side eye.

Anyway, this morning I’m giving it another shot. I slide up beside Venom on the ridgeline giving us the best view of the Whitmore estate.

“You look like shit, man.”

He drops his binoculars and glares at me with bloodshot eyes. “Amy keeps getting up to go to the bathroom at night, she says the baby is pressing on her bladder. I’ve barely gotten a full night’s sleep in three weeks.”

I grin at him, “You think that’s bad, just wait until Venom Junior arrives. Say goodbye to a good night’s sleep for the next... what… eighteen years?”

“Fuck off,” he grumbles.

I knew he was going to pop off, so I slide a bag of his mom’s morning croissants over in front of him and an extra-large coffee. “Am I forgiven? Fresh out the oven.”

He opens the bag, and his eyes drift closed as he inhales. “Fuck yes, you are more than forgiven.” Reaching over with his free arm he wraps it around my neck and jerks me down into a headlock, laughing his ass off as I do my best to escape.

“Get your sweaty armpit away from me, you stupid fucker,” I growl through gritted teeth.

I elbow him in the ribs, and he leaves off with the roughhousing.

I reach into his bag and pull out a croissant before he can stop me. “That will cost you one whole croissant.”

He snatches the bag away, frowning at me.

Before he can complain, I tell him, “You don’t need six fucking breakfast croissants, dude. With how good your mom’s food is, I’m surprised we’re not both fat as fucking pigs.”

He thumps his fist against his hard abs. “You’re the one who needs to hit the gym more, not me. Getting a dad bod there, my friend.”

“Yeah, whatever, asshole” I respond blandly. Good job Mia isn’t around to hear my language, or I’d probably owe her another fifty dollars. Jerking my chin towards the Whitmore estate, I ask, “Have you see this fucker?”

He takes a bite of the croissant and chews it before responding in a serious tone. “I’ve not seen anything remotely resembling a human being in or around that fucking mansion. No Malcolm Whitmore or his weird ass son, Ashton. Not a groundskeeper, housekeeper, or whoever else rich fuckers have to look after them.”

“That’s strange,” I say staring at the huge house.

Venom adds, “The lights come on and go off, randomly throughout the house, so someone has to be home.”

A deep voice comes from behind us. “The lights are probably set on an automatic timer as part of their security plan.”

Venom automatically holds out his bag for Tex to take a croissant.

Tex pulls out a fat, juicy croissant, loaded with eggs, sausage, and cheese. Meli thought it sacrilege to fill a croissant like this, but when everyone kept asking for breakfast croissants she relented and trialed her own version which ended up becoming a best seller on her breakfast menu.

I can tell Tex is in heaven when he takes a bite, because his fucking eyes practically roll back in his head. “Your mom is the best cook on the West Coast. You do know that, don’t you, Venom?”

Venom grins. “I already got one blood brother, you looking to be adopted by my family too?”

Tex just shakes his head with a smirk. “Nah, I’m not gonna come between you and your fucking bromance.”

“Fuck off,” Rage and I both say in unison.

We take a few minutes to eat in silence before Tex speaks up. “I’m gonna fetch some more coffee and supplies. If we’re gonna be here all day, then we don’t wanna be distracted by hunger.”

I jerk my chin for him to go, wondering how much experience he had with stakeouts when he was a Texas Ranger. They drive some brothers right up the wall, but Tex seems quite chipper about it.

***

We keep an eye on the house for most of the day, true to his word Tex kept us topped up with fresh coffee and made sure we didn’t get hungry. That stereotype about cops and donuts? Given the sugar-dusted ones he brought us with our lunchtime coffee and burgers, there must be some truth in it. I guess carbs and sugar keeps the blood sugar from dipping, though after this stakeout I’m gonna need me some gym time.

When Tex comes back after dark with a pizza, we all sit around watching the house. Venom complains, “We’ve had club brothers here for the better part of twenty-four hours off and on. We’ve yet to see any sign of life. Obviously because it’s such a massive place with thick walls I can’t use my thermal imaging drones, but other than the lights, there’s no fucking activity.”

Tex sighs, “How long are y’all thinking of staking out this place before y’all break down and check the house to see if anyone is even home?”

My head snaps around to look at Venom. “Tex’s right. We’ve been here long enough, we need to eliminate this as a potential capture site for Malcolm. The old man could be dancing with show girls in Vegas or sunning himself on the French Riviera for all we know.”

Venom finishes his slice of pizza and grins at me. “I’m game for a little breaking and entering tonight.” He wipes his greasy fingers on his jeans and pulls out his gloves then looks from Tex back to me.

Tex curses under his breath. “Fucking boy scouts.” Reaching into the black leather duffle bag he brought, he pulls out a set of overalls and tosses them to Venom, then takes out another set for me.

“What the fuck is this all about?” I ask.

Tex gets to his feet and begins pulling on the solid black garment. By the time he zips it up, I see the benefit with my own eyes. Against a black backdrop he looks almost invisible. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out thick black rubber gloves and a ski mask. By the time he’s geared up, his fucking mother wouldn’t recognize him.

“I’m guessing y’all probably have your DNA in the system? I know mine is on file from my previous life. This way we don’t leave any evidence.”

He’s right, because in my job as a medic I often end up at crime scenes, I’ve been asked to provide a sample for exclusion on a couple of occasions. They say it’s destroyed after the case is closed, but I ain’t taking any chances, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Venom and I scramble to get into our overalls as well. Tex pulls out a case with a sniper rifle fitted with a silencer. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t totally fascinated by the new guy. When he was prospecting, he just kept his head down and did as he was told, now he’s a fully patched in brother we’re learning all sorts of interesting shit about him. He raises his rifle and shoots at a transformer on a nearby power pole. He keeps shooting and reloading until the transformer pops. Then he states, “We’ve probably got about ten or fifteen minutes until the utility companies show up and call the police.”

We scramble down and do a circuit of the house to check for signs of life. Looking through the lower floor windows with our night vision goggles there’s no heat signatures. It’s too early for anyone to be in bed, so it’s pretty safe to assume the house is empty. I run up to the back door, I was gonna try and force it, but Tex moves me aside and starts getting to work with a bunch of tools. He makes short work of it and a minute or so later there’s a soft click as it opens just as if someone used a key. The power’s out so we don’t have to worry about any security systems. We begin searching the house for Malcolm or Ashton, each of us taking a different floor. Once we get out of the main living area, I know we’re not going to find anyone here because the fucker has moved. Every other room is totally empty except the spacious living room. It doesn’t take us long to regroup and head out the way we came.

Venom is pissed. “This has been a gigantic waste of time.”

Tex peels off his overalls and crams them back into the duffle. “We need to get the fuck outta here before the police show up, once the utility repair men see the bullet holes, they’re gonna freak.”

Ven and I pull off ours as well, put them in the duffle and then load up and get the hell out of dodge. When we’re miles away, we stop to refuel.

Tex steps closer and asks, “Do you think we should check the house where Priscilla used to live? What are the chances he’s there?”

I shrug, “Pretty much zero. It’s still a crime scene, isn’t it?”

“Nope,” Tex says. “Got released back to the Whitmores last week, they had a cleanup crew come out. I don’t know what they’re planning on doing with the place, it’s not listed for sale.”

Venom chimes in, “I’d be willing to do this all in one fell swoop. We need to find this dude. If there’s a chance he’s hiding out there, then we need to check.”

I agree so we head in that direction.

Pulling up to the house gives me the creeps, not because a man died here but because Priscilla was shot here. We gear up again and slip in through the back again because it can’t be seen from the street. The electricity is already off, maybe like someone didn’t pay the bill or it got turned off by the old man. Our flashlights come in handy, and we stay together on this one. It’s pretty clear that no one is living here, the living room carpet has been taken away, as have the sofas and there’s a strong smell of bleach and chemicals in the air. I see fruit is rotting on the dining room table in a large bowl, I guess the cleanup crew were only focusing on the biohazards.

“This brings back memories,” Tex mutters under his breath. I assume he means because he used to be a law enforcement officer and saw a lot of crime scenes and knows that the absence of soft furnishings means that the blood splatter was extensive.

Venom has nothing to say, and I can’t see his expression.

“Priscilla hasn’t got any of her, or Mia’s personal items. Maybe we can collect that for her?” I suggest.

“Good idea,” Tex replies. “Asshole isn’t here, so we may as well make it worth our while.” We head upstairs.

When I walk into Mia’s room my heart breaks. She has so few little kid items and no décor on her walls, I wouldn’t say it’s a prison cell but seeing how she’s already made her room at mine look cozy, it’s heart breaking to think she lived in this stark white room. I remember Priscilla saying Conrad didn’t like her room to be junked up. Well fuck that dead bastard because I’ve crammed her room full of useless shit that little girls like. I walk over and dump the pillow out of the pillowcase and begin filling it with her stuff. She’s got a little jewelry box, some stuffed animals, and figurines of cats all lined up on a shelf. I take everything I can get my hands on with my club brothers silently watching me. If she doesn’t want these reminders of her old life, then we can give them to Goodwill or something.

I move to the master bedroom, and it’s weirdly separated into two halves. One is masculine and the other is feminine. On Priscilla’s half there’s a space where a computer used to be. I can tell because the cables were left behind. I grab her jewelry box, which isn’t much larger than Mia’s, and throw it into my pillowcase. Tex grabs another pillowcase and holds it out while I start filling it to the brim with all Priscilla’s personal effects. I open her closet and seriously don’t know what to take because it’s mostly demure clothing for a life she doesn’t live anymore. I’m just about to leave the walk-in closet when Tex kicks something metal.

“You want me to grab the safe? It’s probably got her important paperwork inside.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

On the way out I shine my flashlight over the nightstand drawer on Conrad’s side and see that he has lots of embarrassing things hidden there, porn, Viagra, and lotion in addition to his rolodex and some expensive looking cufflinks. I slam the drawer shut and don’t say a word, because I refuse to continue to let this asshole and his peculiarities live rent free in my head.

We take the personal property we’ve reclaimed for Priscilla and Mia and hit the road, strapping it to the back of our bikes. It’s all kinds of awkward but worth it. It infuriates me that these females I care so much about can stow all their worldly possession in two jumbo size pillowslips. Conrad’s family is wealthy. Why they were too stingy to spend on Priscilla and Mia is beyond my ability to reason.

***

We pull up at my place almost an hour after leaving their old house and my club brothers help me unload our haul and set the stuff just inside the front door. We say our goodbyes and they head off home. It’s around eight in the evening and I smell something tasty. I wander through the house, following my nose to the kitchen to find Priscilla removing chicken from a roasting pan, ready to put in the refrigerator.

I lean over and inhale, “Umm, lemon chicken?” I ask.

She nods, “I thought you’d be late, so me and the girls have already eaten. Want me to warm some back up for you?”

I shake my head, reach into the roaster and rip off a chunk of white meat with my hands. She watches me bite off a large piece and comments, “You’re acting like a real caveman tonight.”

I walk off my piece of chicken, motioning for her to follow. “I feel like a caveman because I’ve been hunting and gathering for you tonight.”

“What in the world does that even mean?” she asks with a quizzical look on her face.

I don’t need to answer because the moment she sees the safe that was hidden away in her walk-in closet, she rushes forward and falls to her knees in front of the pillowcases. “Oh my God! You brought stuff from our old house.”

I sit down on the bench in my foyer and continue eating my chicken while she unties the pillowcases.

“I cleaned out Mia’s room and grabbed as much as I could from your side of the bedroom. I didn’t know if you’d want the reminders, but thought I’d let you and Mia decide. One of my club brothers noticed the safe and we somehow managed to wrestle it onto the back of his Harley.”

She tears up, but I wave my piece of chicken to get her attention. “No crying Prissy girl. Those Whitmore bastards wouldn’t give you your shit, so I took it. If they’ve got a problem with that, they can take it up with me and my club.”

She gives me gigantic hug before running to the bottom of the stairs and calling for Mia. She comes down with her two friends looking all kinds of confused. “What’s up?”

Priscilla waves Mia over. “Rage stopped by our old house and grabbed a bunch of our stuff. Come, let’s see what he brought.”

Mia can’t get to the pillowcases fast enough. Delighted is the word I’d use to describe her expression. “It feels like Christmas morning, only I don’t have to worry about not liking my gifts because I’m the one who picked them out.”

The other two girls kneel down beside her and help her open and gently empty the pillowcases.

The first thing Mia grabs is a weird white, half-bald stuffed cat. She hugs the toy to her chest and starts crying.

Her mom explains, “This was a gift from an aunt who passed away. She gave it to Mia when she was born, that tatty cat used to go everywhere with Mia.” Turning to me, she says, “Thank you, Rage. Getting back Whiskers means so much to her.”

Trying to lighten the mood I respond lightly, “I got your jewelry cases too.”

They get excited about that and open the other pillowcase to claim their girly trinkets. Pride blooms in my chest that I’ve managed to get some justice on their behalf. It’s the very least they deserve for everything they’ve had to endure.

Priscilla’s chicken is finger-licking good, so I grab another piece while I watch them divvy up their possessions. Mia’s friends make a big deal about her little crystal cat collection. They help her carry her stuff upstairs and when her bedroom door closes, we can no longer hear their laughter.

I watch Priscilla neatly pack her stuff back into one of the pillowcases and turn her attention to the safe. I come over and pick it up. “Want me to put it on the dining room table, so you can get to it better.’

She nods, all smiles. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for us. We don’t have much, but there are some things of sentimental value that can never be replaced.”

“I’m glad to be of service, Prissy. You deserve to have all your nice things.”

I watch as she dials in the correct combination and scans her finger across the scanner. The safe pops open and I’m shocked that there’s a bundle of cash stowed inside. She reaches inside and takes it out. When she hands it to me, I can see that it says ten thousand dollars on the paper band. “Here you go, repayment for all the nice things you bought us.”

I push the money back and tell her. “I’m not taking your money, Prissy. I’m doing just fine on my own. You’re gonna need that to buy a car and for Mia’s college fund.”

I can see she’s gonna argue the point, so I tell her in no uncertain terms, “Your money is no good here. Seriously, the club got a windfall on one of our last jobs.”

She slaps the end against her palm and responds, “I guess it’s foolish to give it away when we’re broke.”

She replaces it back in the safe and pulls out a jewelry case. She opens it and shows me a rather lackluster pair of gold earrings. “These aren’t real gold, but they were a gift from one of my best friends when I was little.”

She paws through the safe, pulling out the diamond earrings her grandmother bequeathed to her and the gold bracelet she got from her mother on her fifteenth birthday. She has a lot of trinkets both valuable and not, that mean something to her. She’s even got an old silk scarf that I gave to her. When I saw it, I did a double take. I remembered the day I gave it to her like it was yesterday. Back then I couldn’t afford much, I was living in foster care and broke. I’d actually gotten it from a thrift store, I felt bad about giving her something that had belonged to someone else, but the way her eyes lit up when I presented it to her, it was like I’d given her diamonds.

There’s also a thick file folder in the safe, but she doesn’t show any interest in it whatsoever. I’d almost forgotten what else I’d picked up, Whitmore had taken her laptop, but I found her cellphone under a book on the nightstand, “Got this as well,” I said as I handed it to her.

She took it from me but looked fairly disinterested, I’d gotten her a new phone saying she could let everyone know she was okay. But the look on her face when she said that she had no one to call was heartbreaking.

“Thanks,” she says and puts it on the coffee table, not even bothering to switch it on.

I need to talk to her about what we discovered today.

“We found out that your father-in-law pulled up stakes and moved. Me and a couple of my club brothers went to his mini mansion and there was no one living there anymore. The whole house was empty except the furniture in the living room.”

“Is that why you went to our old home? You were hoping to find him there.”

I nod. “We knew it was a longshot, the crime scene has been cleaned up, but the house has been left with bare floorboards and there was rotten fruit in the bowl. The electricity is off, and the door was boarded up.”

“That’s horrible. Why did Malcolm take the house from us if he didn’t care anything about it?”

“I don’t know but we need to locate either Malcolm or his son Ashton, preferably both. Do you have any idea where they are?”

Something flashes over her face when she hears the name Ashton. I want to ask her what it is about him she doesn’t like, but I don’t want to spoil her good mood about getting her personal items back. She thinks it over for a few seconds before answering. “I was of the understanding that they had property all over. Maybe losing Conrad really messed him and he took off to another part of the country.” Pausing for a moment, she adds, “I know they have a place in Italy because we visited it once. I hesitate to think how many places Malcolm could go if he really wanted to disappear.”

“Our IT guy has been tracking his holdings and they’re all owned by shell companies hidden within shell companies.”

She slowly closes her safe and turns to me. “Do you really think Malcolm had something do with the rabbits?”

“I can’t think of anyone else who would be angry enough with you to do something like that.”

She glances away and again there’s a strange look on her face. “I know he probably blames me for Conrad’s death. Malcolm never liked me and tried to blame me for everything that went wrong in their lives.”

“That must have been awful,” I say while pulling her close to me on the sofa. “Did Conrad defend you to his father at least?”

She shakes her head. “No, he never did. He usually agreed with whatever his father said. He did whatever his father asked. It’s like our marriage, I don’t think he had any say in that either.”