Devils: Cutthroat 99 MC Read online

  “You don’t have any idea where they may be?”

  Leeda shook her head. “No, not really. You might try Douglas.”

  “Douglas? Why?”

  “There’s a rumor going around that the Chromes are going to patch over a club there. You know Leo: he always wants to be where the action is.”

  “Do you think that’s where Riley is?”

  “Daisy, I swear, I would tell you if I knew. I like you and I think you deserve better than that shit Leo. I don’t even know if he’s in Douglas. It’s just a guess, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  Daisy looked up and met Leeda’s eyes as she gently cleaned the scrape on her head. “Thank you, Leeda. For everything.”

  “If I hear anything I’ll let you know. You have a number where I can reach you?”

  “No, I’m sorry. Leo smashed my phone and I haven’t been able to replace it.”

  “What an asshole! I’m glad you’re divorcing him. I don’t know what Helton sees in him, other than he’s a suck up and a yes man.” Leeda pulled Daisy into a hug. “I hope you get Riley back, and soon. Do you have something to write my number down on? You can call me and I’ll pass along anything I hear.”

  Daisy limped to her car and after a bit of searching turned up a working pen and scrap of paper. Leeda quickly jotted her number down.

  “Good luck,” Leeda said as she handed the pen and paper back through the window.

  “Thank you,” Daisy said as she began the process of trying to start her car.

  “You deserve better than this. Are you sure that thing will make it to Douglas?” Leeda asked as the car spluttered and died again.

  “It has to.”

  She nodded as the Beetle finally coughed to life, lurched with a grinding bang, then backed out of the space, before lurching and banging again and trundling out of the parking lot in a faint cloud of blue smoke. She shook her head and returned to the clubhouse, hoping Daisy would find her son and Leo got what he deserved.

  ***

  Dixon swung the heap of metal that was Kevin’s Yamaha off the side of the trailer using the hoist and lowered it to a cart. The bike was a total write off, suitable only for crushing, but he had to know what happened. Kevin was too good a rider to crash like he did. Something had to have happened to the bike, some kind of catastrophic failure. Dix had thoroughly checked over the bike before Kevin had ridden it to the Green Hell as Dix followed in the support truck hauling gas, tires and tools. He said the bike rode fine and Dix had only given it a cursory check before sending Kevin out the first time.

  Dix pushed the bike into the machine shop, staring at the lump that had taken his friend’s life. On the first run Kevin had reported no issues and Dix hadn’t checked the bike before sending him out again. It was clear he’d missed something. He should have checked the bike between the runs, but he hadn’t, and now Kevin was dead and Vicki was a widow. Because of him.

  He walked around the bike slowly. Everything was so mangled it was going to be hard to tell what had broken before the crash and what was broken as the result of the crash. But he owed Vicki an explanation of what happened, and he’d find it if he could.

  It had taken almost a week before the police released the bike, or what was left of it anyway, from impound. A week of sleepless nights as his mind replayed the crash over and over.

  The massive rear swing arm was broken, almost certainly the result of the crash, but the pivot point, while deformed, was intact. He moved around to the front of the bike. The front forks were so badly twisted and misshapen there was no way to know if something happened there, but Kevin would have felt the looseness and reported it long before the failure would have caused him to crash. Even if the both fork tubes blew out the walls of the tubes would have held the assembly together, and the tubes, though twisted and bent, were still intact. Kevin might have shit himself if it happened, but he likely wouldn’t have crashed.

  Nothing made sense. No oil was sprayed all over the rear of the bike that would indicate engine failure, oil that could have caused Kevin to crash. Everything about the crash pointed to rider error, but Dix couldn’t accept that, not with Kevin, and not on a near straight bit of road. Kevin was too good a rider for that to have happened.

  He walked around the bike again. The answer was there; he just had to find it. He knelt in front of the bike and begun cutting it apart. He started by cutting the mangled radiator away so he could get to the top engine mount, and had just lit the torch to cut the mount when he noticed a hole in the engine. He killed the torch and set it aside as he examined the hole more closely. He stuck his little finger into the hole, trying to figure out what could have hit it hard enough to punch a hole through the radiator, possibly the front wheel and tire, and still penetrate the engine. His eyes widened as a possible answer came to him. He relit the torch and began to cut.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “A bullet? Are you sure?” Cale asked as they sat in their favorite watering hole that also served as their clubhouse.

  “Positive. I tore the engine down last night and found pieces of it. It was the golden BB. It punctured the front tire then wrecked the engine. It entered the number three cylinder and the piston hit it, destroying the valves and snapping the connecting rod. The damage started a cascading effect. I found pieces of junk in all four cylinders. The engine probably seized almost instantly.”

  “Jesus,” Thad murmured. He raced in the under six hundred class with a bike similar to Kevin’s, a Yamaha YZF-R6. “He never stood a chance.”

  “No,” Cale growled. “But if we ever find out who took the shot, we’ll make sure he understands what Kevin went through.”

  “Amen to that, brother,” the six men murmured.

  “You think it was some crazy environmentalist?” Rick suggested. “You know they are. They get bat-shit crazy and start chaining themselves to trees and what not.”

  “We weren’t doing anything to the trees! Hell, if that’s who it was, they caused more damage than we did when Kevin’s bike slammed into one. That doesn’t feel right to me,” Dean said.

  “No way to know,” Cale said. “But we need to pass the word to all the brothers to listen for someone bragging about it.”

  “And if we hear anything?” Dix asked.

  Cale shook his head. “I don’t know. We’ve never had to deal with this before. But rest assured, it won’t go unanswered.”

  Dix nodded. “That’s all I need to hear.”

  ***

  On the ninety-minute drive from Eugene to Douglas, Daisy had formulated her plan. If there were a club in town that the Firechrome were going to try to shove out, she’d trade information for their help in locating Leo. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, she thought as her Beetle wheezed along the 126. She’d briefly considered going to the police but she had no proof that Leo or Riley were in Douglas, and she’d had her fill of the police at the moment. Once she had proof, then she’d go to the police.

  She’d been hitting what bars she could find, stopping at one, then using that one to find the next. She spent more time trying to follow fuzzy directions in an unfamiliar town than she did actually trying to find the club. So far she’d come up dry, most people proclaiming complete ignorance of a motorcycle club being in town. She found that hard to believe. When the Firechrome were in town, everyone knew it. She was looking for her next stop, some place named Happy Tails, when, at the last moment, she saw a motorcycle shop flash past. Since she wasn’t getting anywhere asking questions at what bars she could find, she was ready to try something different. She turned around and pulled to a stop in front.

  “May I help you?” the young man behind the counter asked as she entered.

  “I’m looking for the local motorcycle club.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed immediately. “There are some guy who ride bikes around, but I don’t know of any formal club or anything.”

  For the first time, Daisy felt like someone was holding back. “Look, I’ll level with you. I’m
here looking for help, and I think they can help me. In exchange, I have information they want to know.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “My ex kidnapped my son. I’m trying to get him back.”

  “And your ex rides in a club in Douglas?”

  “No. My ex rides with the Firechrome, but I have it on good authority there’s a club in town and I have news they’re going to want to hear.”

  The man scratched his head, the woman’s story too convoluted to follow. “Okay. If there is a club in town, they might hang out at Dunes, near the casino. You know where that is?”

  “Not a clue,” she smiled.

  He gave her directions. “From there just follow the signs for the casino. You’ll drive right past Dunes. It will be on the left.”

  “And the name of this club, if there was one?”

  “Just ask for Cale Johnson.”

  “Cale Johnson,” she repeated. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” the man said, hoping he won’t later regret helping her.

  Daisy pulled to a stop in front of Dunes Bar and Grille. There were a couple of cars, but also a dozen motorcycles, all crotch rockets with the exception of one.

  “May I help you?” the barkeep asked as Daisy stepped up to the bar.

  “I’m looking for Cale Johnson.”

  “Don’t know him.”

  “I saw his bike outside.”

  “Then you should know what he looks like.”

  She looked around the bar but there wasn’t a group of men large enough to account for the number of bikes out front. She fumed. She was too close to be bamboozled by this guy. “He’s not in here. Look, I need to see Cale. I have news he’s going to want to hear. If I don’t tell him, and he finds out you prevented me from seeing him, he’s going to be mad.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Please! Look, can you just ask him to meet with me, please? I’m not kidding. I have news he’ll want to hear.”

  “Tell it to me and if I see him, I’ll pass it along.”

  “No. This is for him and him alone.” She could feel the tears coming. “Okay. I’ll step outside. There’s a blue Volkswagen out there. That’s mine. Please, just ask him to see me. I only need five minutes of his time. Please! It’s important.”

  The man looked at her a moment, noticing the wetness in her eyes. “Okay. Go wait in your car. If he’s not out there in five minutes, you might as well go home.”

  “Thank you. Five minutes is all I need, and make sure he knows it’s important. For both of us.”

  ***

  “I’m Cale Johnson,” Dix said stepping up to the battered Volkswagen.

  Daisy opened the door to her car and stepped out, forcing herself to look into the man’s eyes. Cale was gorgeous. “Mr. Johnson, thank you for seeing me.”

  Dix had to work hard to not stare as an angel stepped out of the car. The woman was of average height, but that was the only thing average about her. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail that showed off the graceful curve of her neck. She had a pixie nose, huge brown eyes that sparkled in the late afternoon sun, and more curves than the Green Hell, and when she smiled, she dimpled. No matter what the woman might want, Cale was going to be sorry he missed this, but it answered one question. She definitely didn’t know Cale.

  Dix smiled. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have information you need to know.”

  “What information is that?”

  “First I need something from you.”

  Dix smirked. Of course she does. “Oh? What’s that?”

  “My son was kidnapped a few days ago. I think he’s here.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Ms…?”

  “Watson. Daisy Watson,” she said sticking out her hand.

  Dix shook her hand. “I’m sorry to hear that, Daisy, but what does that have to do with me?”

  “Everything. If I give you this information, information you need, will you help me get my son back?”

  Dix scratched at his neck as he thought. This is above my pay grade. “Okay, I’m going to come clean. I’m not Cale Johnson. I’m Dixon Montague.”

  “You lied to me? Why? Do you know Cale?”

  “I know Cale, but we don’t know you. Why are you pretending to know Cale?”

  “Because I’m desperate. Please, are you part of the motorcycle club here in Douglas?”

  “I don’t know of any club.”

  “Please, Dixon. I’m begging you. Can you please get a message to Cale? If you’re part of a club, you really, really need to know this.”

  “And if we agree to help get your son back, you’ll tell us the news?”

  “Yes!”

  “And the news is related to the kidnapping of your son?”

  “In a way. Once I explain it, you’ll see.”

  Dix scratched at his neck again. “Follow me.”

  He led Daisy into the bar then to a back room that was normally closed off unless the bar needed the extra tables. It was their room so long as Dunes weren’t using it.

  “Cale, this is Daisy. She said she has information she thinks we need to hear and, in exchange, she wants help finding her son. Somehow they’re related.”

  Cale looked at Dix a moment then motioned to a chair. “Won’t you have a seat? Want something to drink?”

  “Just a pop, please, Sprite if they have it,” she said as she sat down. There were a dozen men in the room, ranging in ages from Dixon and another man at about thirty to Cale, who was, perhaps, sixty.

  Dix stepped out of the room since he was standing, returning in a moment with Daisy’s drink. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Maybe you should start at the beginning,” Cale said.

  “If I tell you this, will you help me?”

  “I can’t answer that until I hear the news.”

  Daisy paused, afraid of being used, but she was out of options. “About three days ago, my son, Riley, was kidnapped,” she began. She laid it all out, starting with arrest and going right up to Dixon stepping out to her car.

  “How sure are you about this information?” Cale asked. If the Firechrome was moving on their turf, they were going to have problems.

  “Not very,” she admitted. “I don’t think Leeda would lie to me, but she could be wrong. I hope not, because if she is, I have no idea where Riley is. What’s here the Chrome could want?”

  Cale looked around the table. “I’d rather not say.”

  “But you men are in a club, right?”

  Cale nodded. “Yes. The Cutthroat ‘99.”

  “Interesting name.”

  “I formed the club in 1999, and the Cutthroat, well, let’s say what we do is just that. You get one chance to do what you have to, then…” he made like he was cutting his throat with his finger.

  “Look! She went pale!” one of the men laughed.

  Cale chuckled. “We don’t kill anyone, run drugs, or steal. Nothing like that.”

  “But there’s something, isn’t there?”

  Cale looked at his brothers. “Yes, there’s something.”

  “Will you help me? I told you everything I know.”

  Cale thought about it a moment. “I can’t promise anything, but if we get an opportunity to help with your son, we will. There’s a problem, though.”

  Daisy went cold. “What?”

  “I’m sorry about your son, but I’m not going to send a brother to jail for kidnapping.”

  “There’s a restraining order! If that happens I’ll tell the police you were helping me! Or we can tell the police where they are! I just need help finding him! After that, I can get the police involved!”

  “We’re going to need some kind of break. Douglas isn’t Eugene, but we can’t scour every place in town looking for Firechrome,” Chuck said. “How would we know unless we see the patch?”

  Cale rapped on the table with his fingers. “We’re not going to solve this tonight,” he said
before he turned to Daisy. “Do you have a place to stay?”

  “No.”

  “We’ll put you up tonight. I think the best thing is to go slow with this. Maybe tomorrow pair you up with one of the Cutthroats and take a look around town? Maybe you’ll see a bike or someone you recognize.”

  Daisy nodded. “I can try, but I wasn’t that involved in the club.”

  Cale frowned. “Well, we have to start somewhere. Dix, can you take care of putting her up tonight and show her around tomorrow?”