Banger’s Ride(190)
The two local women didn’t fit the pattern, but the way they were tortured and killed was the same as with the other victims. Fuck, we have to stop this sick bastard before he kills another. Earl rubbed his face, and the pressure to catch the serial killer possessed him. He lived and breathed this case, the images of murder victims invading his dreams. Knowing he’d never rest until he cracked it, Detective McCue shuffled around the area to look for more clues.
The morning wore on as the evidence was collected and bagged. Finally, the team of investigators, grim-faced and silent, treaded back to their vehicles as the body of Jane Doe #8, bagged and on a gurney, trailed behind.
* * *
Hawk woke Cara up as he rummaged through the small dresser drawers. Glancing at her, he saw her rubbing her eyes as she yawned. “What time is it?”
He came over and kissed her forehead. “Sorry, babe, I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s eight o’clock.”
“Damn, it’s too early to get up on a Sunday morning. Come back to bed.” She patted the empty space beside her.
Hawk stared at her hand. “Don’t tempt me. I gotta go. I’ll be back later.”
“Where are you going?”
“Club business.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Club business, babe. You know I can’t tell you.”
“Are you going alone?”
“No, Jax, Axe, and Chas are going, too.” He came over, gave her a tight hug, kissed her, and pinched her exposed nipple. “You make it hard for me to leave,” he said, winking at her.
He kissed her pouting lips, then was gone.
Hawk and the others mounted their Harleys, but before he took off, he glanced up at the window. Cara watched him, standing at the window with a blanket draped over her naked body. It took all his strength to keep himself from running back to his room to fuck her. Tearing himself away from her gaze, he hit the open road. They had a mission to accomplish: scope out the Deadly Demons Nomads. The vote from the members was unanimous; they’d teach the fuckers the Insurgents did not tolerate any one fucking with them. Hawk chomped at the bit with anticipation, knowing he’d enjoy every punch to Viper’s face.
No one touched his woman.
* * *
Going back to bed, Cara tried to sleep, but Hawk had only been gone fifteen minutes and she already missed him. Feeling claustrophobic, she wished she could meet up with Sherrie, but knew she couldn’t. Since she’d arrived at the clubhouse, Hawk had given her strict orders not to leave the compound until he told her it was okay. Saying she was antsy was an understatement.
It wasn’t so bad when Hawk was around, but Cara’s confinement made her climb the walls. Anxious about her clients and the piles of work on her desk, she had to get back to work the following week, whether this thing with Viper was resolved or not. If she remained incognito, she might as well shut down her practice, and she wasn’t going to do that.
After a long shower, she turned on her laptop. When she typed in “Pinewood Springs,” the headline of the Tribune read, “Mountainside Strangler Strikes Again.” As Cara read the article, nausea assaulted her. Why can’t they catch this sadist?
Something wasn’t right. Cara grabbed her phone and sent a quick email to her buddy, Josh. Playing a hunch, she had to know if she was on the right track. Of course, Hawk would be livid if he knew she was still playing sleuth, but this was her club business.
After a couple of hours online, Cara’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything since early last night, so she padded to the kitchen to scrounge up some food.
When she came into the room, Brandi and Kristy sat at a table, drinking coffee. They looked like they had partied too much the night before—Brandi had her head in her hand while Kristy stared at the wall in front of her.
Cara opened the refrigerator and found eggs, green peppers, cheddar cheese, and leftover potatoes and made a quick meal. Sitting at the table across from the two women, she ate her breakfast burrito.
As Cara finished her food, Lola strode into the kitchen and glared at Cara. “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Excuse me?” Cara asked as she shuffled back a step.
“You heard me.”
“What’s your problem? I don’t even know you. Back off.”
Brandi and Kristy, sensing drama, perked up.
“My problem, skank, is that you think you’re better than us just ’cause you’ve got Hawk’s cock in your pussy.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“The fuck it ain’t. You can’t come here, acting like you own the place, fuckin’ Hawk like you’re his woman. You ain’t shit, bitch.”