Chapter 5

Venom

I zip the large book up in my leather jacket and hit the road after Amy agrees to come to the clubhouse when she gets off work at one o’clock this afternoon. Luckily, Rage is there so I grab a coffee, walk up to him, and join him at the bar.

“When did you turn into Ven Bob Square Chest?” He teases.

I frown at him because I’m not really in the mood for joking around right now. I unzip my vest and pull out the scrapbook. “Are you up for helping me a solve a missing persons case?”

He jerks back and stares at me for a second. “Of fucking course I am. How old is the kid?”

I take a sip of my coffee before answering him. “No, dude. This isn’t one of Rigs’ missing kids cases.”

Glancing down at the scrapbook curiously, he asks, “Then who the hell is it?”

“Remember that woman I told you about who was being chased by dogs?”

“Shit! Is she missing?”

I open the book and point to the first page. “No, but her mom is.”

Glancing down at the picture of an older woman with light brown hair, he says, “I don’t understand, did this have something to do with the day you saw her?”

“No. Yes… It’s complicated,” I say.

“How’s about you start at the beginning and tell me everything?” When he’s not bitching about stuff, Rage is so calm it makes me feel hot-headed by comparison.

I rake my hand though my hair and tell him, “I have a better idea. I was going to get Rigs to help us out on this one. Maybe we could find him, and I’ll tell it all in one go?”

Rage gets to his feet, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan, because getting information out of you is like pulling fucking teeth.”

I love Rage like a brother, but he can get my hackles up faster than anyone else in this club. Ignoring his angry muttering I head towards the offices at the back.

We find Rigs in the office he shares with his old lady. Mattie’s at work, and he seems to be working on a schedule for the prospects. He has an open-door policy and the older brother glances up briefly as we walk in.

Rigs was a chaplain in the Marines when he was young. Even today he wears black dress pants and a matching button up shirt underneath his cut, with a hefty cross hanging around his neck. He’s the spiritual advisor and the one who keeps us all on the straight and narrow. I’ve always liked and respected Rigs, though I know he’s not someone you’d want to get on the wrong side of. I’ve heard Tank talk about how Rigs was the very first man patched into the club by our founder, Claw.

He stands up as we enter. I watch his eagle eye rove over us and zero in on the scrapbook under my arm.

“Good morning,” he says good-naturedly. “Did you bring memories to share with me today?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. I’ve brought more problems.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, why can’t you ever just speak directly?” Rage, grumbles.

“You shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain, brother.” Rigs’ rebuke is quiet and offhand like he doesn’t really expect us to obey but feels like he should mention it anyway. Gesturing towards the long table at the back of his office, he suggests, “Why don’t the two of you have a seat. We can take our time and talk this out.”

No sooner does my ass hit the seat than Rage starts telling Rigs all about how the lady from the cornfield’s mother is missing and we need to find her. Rigs knows all about the woman my best friend is referring to because I fessed up to the club officers about how I got distracted with her being in danger and lost sight of the van I was supposed to be tracking. And since her grandfather shot down my drone it alerted the drivers of those vans that there were eyes in the sky. The whole debacle is embarrassing.

Rigs rubs his chin for a second before asking, “Is all that true?”

“Yeah, her name is Amy Grayson, and I found her working at a coffee shop near the location I was staking out at the time. We got to talking and she eventually told me about how she’s sold all her personal possessions to keep the search going for the last eight months.”

Rigs and Rage are all ears as I tell them all the details Amy told me earlier this morning. When I’m finished, I shove the scrapbook towards him. “She brought this to work with her because she’s saved up enough to hire a private investigator. I told her that I would look into it myself and our club would probably help out as well. I know she’s in a bad way financially, so she can’t really afford to waste money on a PI.”

By this point both Rigs and Rage are carefully scrutinizing each and every page. The last page has a small flash drive taped to the paper with a notation that it’s a copy of the footage from the officer’s cell phone when they performed the wellness check.

Rigs detaches it and pulls his laptop over to have a look at it. “Whoever took this is dedicated to solving the case. He didn’t miss anything. It’s interesting that they didn’t find any trace of the meds that were supposedly being delivered there. What did the grandfather say about that?”

“Her grandfather is shifty as fuck. Just claimed he never received them, and the pharmacy is in error. The stupid fucker used her desperation to get inside the house and look for her mother against her to obtain a restraining order. She’s not allowed within five hundred feet of the property or fifty feet of the old man.”

Rigs’ head lifts to look at me. “That’s pretty extreme. Do you think the grandfather fears for his safety around her?”

I snort a laugh. “Not fucking likely. He seems to be toting around his rifle with him most of the time and has a bunch of farmhands who like to roughhouse women. She’s barely a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet.”

Rigs responds thoughtfully, “You know what that means, right?”

“That he’s a grumpy old man who doesn’t want to deal with her ass anymore,” I respond.

“No, getting a restraining order he means he doesn’t want her to be eyes on with whatever’s happening at his place.”

“Well she has gone to the police a bunch of times. She also told me that when she came along for the wellness check she kind of lost it with her grandfather, so that might have had something to do with it too. Amy told me that every clue seemed to lead back to her grandfather but now she’s too scared to keep going out there because if she gets arrested, there’ll be no one looking for her mother. Plus if her mother isn’t at his place, there’s no real point to risking her freedom to keep snooping around his farm.”

“Your new friend has done a good job of gathering information and organizing it in a way that makes it easy to understand what she’s done so far, but we need to branch out. I’ll call Zen and ask him to do a thorough online search for anything your friend might have missed. I’ll also ask him to ferret out all the information he can about that grandfather, Rufus Grayson, and his farmhands. That should give us a feel for how much of a danger he poses.”

“That’s a good idea. “I’m worried about her mother because she has a bunch of serious medical conditions and she’s been missing for coming up on eight months.”

“Statistically speaking, the longer a person is missing, the less chance there is of finding them alive. Is your friend aware that instead of this being a rescue mission, it might turn out to be a recovery mission.”

“I told her exactly that, but she’s convinced her mom’s alive, and the grandfather knows where his daughter is.”

“Is there any chance Amy’s mother is avoiding her and taking shelter at her father’s farmhouse?”

“I don’t think so. Amy reported that her mother had nothing to do with her grandfather for years, and after her step-grandmother died almost two years ago, Amy had little contact. I didn’t want to pry, but I’m suspecting abuse of some kind.”

Rage speaks up, “I need the most current list of the mother’s medical issues and prescribed medications so I can have the proper treatment and meds on hand when she’s rescued.”

“Amy has agreed to come to the clubhouse when she gets off work today. I’m sure if that information isn’t in the scrapbook, she can give it to you, then.”

“If she’s in bad shape, we might have to chopper her out to one of the big medical centers. I’ve got a contact with Air Life Line. I’ll call and give him a heads up that he might be needed,” Rage says.

“I’m sure Amy would be thrilled to hear you’ll be managing the medical details.”

“I just hope that wherever her mother is, those missing meds are getting to her,” Rage says, looking concerned.

“Yeah, me too,” I tell him grimly.

Rigs calls in the other club officers, as well as Zen and Smoke. We devour the information in the scrapbook and begin brainstorming possible scenarios.

***

We’ve got some ideas about what might have happened, I’ve been waiting outside the clubhouse since one for Amy, and finally at just after half past one, the prospects wave her through the front gate. She parks in front of the clubhouse, and I catch her eyeing the place pretty hard when she gets out of her beat-up chevy. To be honest, her car looks more like a death trap than reliable transportation. I’m thinking about having our garage give it a once over, when suddenly I notice her cheek is bright red and she has a small cut on her lip.

I rush out to meet her in the parking lot. “Are you okay? What happened to your face?”

“The assholes you threw out a few weeks ago, came back about thirty minutes after you left.”

My anger rises hard and fast as I tilt her head back to get a look at the damage. “Fucking hell, sweetheart. They really did a number on your face. It looks like your right temple is bruising up, in addition to your cheek and lower lip.”

She glances away, clearly embarrassed. “I’ll be okay. It’s not the first time they’ve slapped me around and it probably won’t be the last.”

“Trust me it’s going to be the last time because I’m going to put them both in the fucking hospital.”

She frowns up at me and shakes my hand off her chin. “No, you’re not. We don’t have time for distractions. The only thing that matters is finding my mom. You promised me that you’d help me do that. Remember?”

I give her a single, grudging nod. “Yeah, I remember. We’re on it and we already have several ideas to explore with you.”

Her face lights us with a brilliant smile before she shuts it down, cupping her lip with her hand. I can see the cut has opened back up. I wrap one arm around her and guide her into the clubhouse. The second we step into the Rigs’ office, Rage jumps to his feet and begins acting like it’s an emergency. He sits her down and sends Rigs to get his medical kit from the armory.

Amy does not appreciate the fuss we’re making over her injuries. Her eyes keep cutting to Siege and the other brothers we’ve assembled to help us find her mom. They don’t bat an eye because taking care of her injuries comes first.

Rage shines a light in her eyes and begins asking her questions. “How long ago did his happen? Did you lose consciousness? Is your vision blurry? Have you felt lightheaded during the day? Did they inflict any other injuries?”

“No, to all of that. Honestly, they just shoved me a bit. I caught myself on the edge of the counter,” she lifts up the side of her shirt to reveal a large bruise that takes up most of the right side of her ribcage.

I curse under my breath, but it’s Rigs who asks the question that I’ve overlooked. “Why? Why do they keep attacking you? There has to be a reason.”

She sighs, “They work for my grandfather on his farm, I don’t know why they feel the need to keep on antagonizing me. Today they came to deliver a message. My grandfather wants me to call him, I told them to go to hell. That’s when the assholes got handsy.”

Rigs shoots a warning look to Siege who speaks for the first time. “You know that you can’t go back to work, right?”

Amy’s head whips around to look at our club president. “What? That’s crazy talk. I’ve got to earn a living if I want to keep a roof over my head, food in my belly, and to continue searching for my mother. God, I can’t just quit my job.”

I squat down to look her in the eyes. I’m wondering why it’s only just now I’m learning that she knows who these fuckers are, and that they aren’t just some local idiots. Before I can speak, Rage tells her, “Do you know what would have happened if they broke your rib and it punctured an internal organ? You might have bled out internally without even realizing how serious the injury was. You can’t keep risking yourself like this.”

She starts getting emotional, so I take her hands in mine and break it all down for her. “You already said if anything happens to you, there’ll be no one to keep the search for your mother alive. You can’t afford to let those assholes take you out of action.”

Her voice is pleading when she speaks, “I need to work. I can’t live on air, and my gas tank has to have gas, especially if I can’t afford my room rental moving forward.”

Shooting Siege a quick glance, I turn back to her. “We have an opening for a bartender here at the clubhouse.”

Her eyes open wide, “I don’t know anything about mixing drinks.”

“Trust me, it’s not rocket science. I’ll be right by your side, teaching you everything I know. You learned to be a barista, right?”

She nods, still looking shocked at this latest development.

“If you can learn to be a barista, you can learn to mix drinks. It’s really not that hard. Most of the brothers drink beer anyway.”

“But I can’t really stay here, can I?”

“I have a small suite, it’s nice and big enough for two. You can take the bedroom, and I’ll have the sofa. The clubhouse is private property and guarded day and night. You’ll be safe because those assholes can’t get to you here.”

Rigs speaks up, pointing out what the rest of us are missing once again. “She’s still going to be out in the community, tracking down leads on her mother’s whereabouts. That means she’ll still going to be in danger.”

Siege says what I’m already thinking. “She needs a protector.”

“She’s mine to protect,” I announce without asking her how she feels about it.

“Put her in a property cut. She’ll be safer that way,” Siege says quietly.

“What’s a property cut? I don’t know if I like the sound of that,” Amy says, her eyes wide with confusion.

Siege pecks out a text on his phone before explaining. “The Savage Legion MC has worked hard to communicate to everyone in Salinas County that we have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to anyone messing with our old ladies or kids. Our old ladies wear black leather vests that say ‘Property Of’ whoever their old man is. Someone would have to be a complete idiot to harass any woman who has the club’s protection because every brother in our club would drop down on them in a heartbeat.”

I see Amy looking nervous and I quickly add, “It’s more like a protection thing. It doesn’t mean that the women literally are the property of the club.”

Siege follows up with, “Although I’m sure you don’t yet understand it, property cuts are very much coveted by the women associated with our club, but brothers only give them to a woman when he’s dedicating himself to her exclusively.” As if catching his mistake, he quickly adds, “Or in your case it’s being offered because you desperately need the protection. If those men that have been beating on you see you with Ven, wearing a Savage Legion MC property cut, I guarantee they’ll steer clear of you because if they don’t, our club will rain hellfire down on them.”

Amy perks up a little, “I think you’re right about that. When Ven got on them for messing me the first day we met, they seemed really worried about triggering a response from your club. I would even go so far as to say they were scared.”

Siege grins. “They should fear us because we won’t be playing around if they disrespect our club or mess with our old ladies.”

She starts to nod, as understanding sets in. “Alright, I’ll stay here, work at your bar, and wear the property cut for as long we continue looking for my mother.”