“Why don’t you fix the AC? I know you can afford it, I paid you enough fuckin’ money.”
A nervous laugh bubbled from him as he turned around, wiping his perspiring forehead. “It’s a goner. I’m going to have to buy a new fan.”
Axe only stared at him.
Clearing his throat, Dean sat behind his desk, took out a monthly calendar, and jotted something down. “This Tuesday. Does Ms. Peters know anything?”
Axe shook his head. “It’s gotta stay that way. I can’t risk her knowing.”
Dean held his water bottle against his neck. “Damn, can’t wait for the summer to end. It’ll be soon. Have you noticed some of the leaves are starting to change? Can’t come soon enough.”
Axe sat, stone-faced.
“And you’re right about not telling her. The average person can’t hide fear or nervousness too well. It takes a steely SOB to not crack. Make sure you don’t weaken and spill your guts to her. I’ve seen that happen too many times.” He set the water bottle on the desk. “Women have a way of making us tell them shit we don’t want to.”
Pulling himself up, Axe’s lips curled into a cynical smile. “No worries. I’m a steely sonofabitch.”
He left the office, grateful to be out of the sweat box with the sweating PI. The fresh air energized him, and he headed his bike to the clubhouse. He wanted to tell Chas, Jerry, Rock, and Jax they were set for Tuesday. The PI had accomplished what Axe wanted, creating a buffer to throw the killer off. When the PI discovered Baylee’s old room had been bugged, Axe wasn’t surprised. He wanted the killer to conclude that Axe had turned over the investigation to the investigator, so Axe could be free to track things down behind the scenes.
He turned into the club’s lot and nodded to Puck who was in the back, scrubbing trashcans. Axe entered through the back, the scent of hickory surrounding him. In the kitchen, he watched Doris, Marlene, Cherri, and Addie talking and laughing as they prepared the food for the dinner after the rally.
The club sponsored three rallies a year: the big one in the fall at Cooper Peak, and two smaller ones at Lakewood Valley. The one set for the following day was to benefit a charity that helped bikers out with their children who’d been diagnosed with cancer. It killed Axe every time he’d see the kids at the rally. They were all in various stages, and the ones in the later stages saw the rally on their DVD player when their dads brought them the recording after the event. Fuck. Life doesn’t make sense.
“Smells good,” he said as he neared the stove. “Whatcha makin’?”
“Beef ribs and honey-baked hams,” Addie replied as she stirred the glaze on the stovetop.
“Make a lot, we’re expecting a big crowd tomorrow night.”
“Chas told me, and he also wanted extra to bring home.” Addie laughed.
“See you, ladies.”
Axe made his way to the great room where he saw Chas, Jax, and Jerry sitting at a table, drinking beers. He headed over to them.
“Saw your old ladies cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Smells good,” he said to Chas and Jax.
“She’s cooking, and I’m babysitting.” Jax pointed to Paisley, who ran around the great room, squealing in delight.
“Me, too.” Chas pointed to his daughter, Hope, sleeping in a yellow car seat, a green blanket with giraffes on it tucked snug under her chin.
Axe shook his head. “Fuck. What the hell’s happened to us?”
“Loving a woman,” Chas replied.
Jax and Axe nodded.
“So, what’s the word?” Jerry asked. “We doing this on Tuesday?”
“Yeah. I had to verify some shit with my uncle, which took longer than I’d have liked. He didn’t cooperate in the beginning.” Axe threw back the shot of Jack the prospect set in front of him.
“Is he gonna snitch?” Jax questioned.
“Nah. He’s stupid, but he’s not crazy. He likes living too much.”
They chuckled then grew quiet as Axe explained the plans for the following Tuesday night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Excitement was in the air as bikers, their families, and citizens milled around the rally, checking out a few of the stands dotting the area. The maple and oak trees provided shade from the rays of a late August sun, and the breezes off the lake cooled the area.
Baylee had never seen so many people in leather. Women, men, and children donned leather boots, vests, and jackets, even though the temperature hovered around ninety degrees. A boy around eight years old with dark hair ran up to her and Axe.
“Uncle Axe, have you seen my mom and dad?”
“They were by the stage listening to the band. Come on, let’s go look for them.”