DevilMayRide

8
Sadie bolted for her van door, but for a big guy, the biker moved surprisingly fast. He quick-stepped down the narrow stretch of gravel between her van and the ditch and met Sadie at the rear. In one quick movement, he had her pinned with her back to the van and a knife to her throat.
“We meet again, huh?” The tight curls of his beard vibrated as he spoke.
He smelled of body odor, leather, and rotting teeth. Sadie almost gagged, but she was terrified to do so much as swallow with the long blade pressed against her larynx.
“I didn’t do it, Curly!” Sadie squeaked. She knew she was taking a chance calling the guy by name.
He raised his eyebrows.
“Do what? Huh? How do you know who I am, and how can you know what I’m pissed about, bitch, if you didn’t do it?”
He leaned one forearm on her throat and pressed his body weight against her, while his right hand, which held the knife blade, moved up to the side of her nose. “I want what’s mine,” he snarled, and the spray of his spit hit her face. “I can’t help what the pigs took, but I can sure get back the other half. I didn’t know it at the time, but we saw you load it into your van.”
Sadie couldn’t breathe. Her vision was blurring and she could only think of one word.
“Bambi,” she said, the sound of her voice a choked gasp.
“What did you say?” He startled backward, releasing his arm from her throat.
Sadie nearly collapsed and she brought air into her lungs in huge gulps. Thinking quick, she started to talk.
“Bambi. She told me she knows you feel bad about what happened, Curly. She knows you love her.”
“Bambi’s dead.” He narrowed his black eyes to slits and his fingers tightened on the knife.
Sadie took a chance.
“They just wanted you to think she was dead. Your boys thought she’d turned informant, so they fed her extrapure coke. They told you they buried her under the monkey puzzle tree on the Kenmore property, but she wasn’t dead. She escaped and she’s inside the trailer right now.”
“You’re lying!” he screamed
Sadie shrank away from the blow she thought was coming, but he didn’t hit her. Yet.
“I saw her with my own two eyes and I know dead when I see it. Trust me.”
She did trust him on that one, but she also knew bad guys themselves did not have a very high trust ratio. Sadie was betting Curly would’ve sold his own mother for a few bucks, so it was in his nature to believe everyone else was just as corrupt.
“I’m sure you thought she was dead. It was a close call.”
She could just about smell rubber burning as he considered what she’d told him.
Sadie rushed on. “Come on, think about it. How else would I know anything about Bambi? Go inside and see for yourself.”
“I will. If you’re lying, you’re dead,” he hissed.
As if I was walking away before, Sadie thought.
“Hand over your keys,” he said.
Without flinching, Sadie handed him the van keys that she was holding. He stuffed them in the front pocket of his jeans and turned on his heel, his boots kicking up dirt as he went. He walked up the steps of the RV and when he was at the top one, he called over to her.
“There’s nothing but farmland for five miles in every direction. Don’t even think you can run.”
But the second he was inside the RV, she did just that. Sadie bolted around the side of her van, reached behind the front tire, and found the magnetic box that held her spare key. Her hands shook as she sprang the key from the box. Then in one fluid movement she hopped onto the driver’s seat, closed the door, and managed to stab the key in the ignition. The engine sprang to life and in her rearview mirror Sadie saw Curly fling the door to the RV open and bolt down the steps. She punched the accelerator and heard the crunch of metal as her van winged the Harley in front of her and sent it flying into the ditch off to the side.
Cranking the wheel, she was out of the driveway, barreling down the gravel road. She was back careening down the highway before she let up on the gas.
When she pulled into the parking lot of Zack’s apartment building, Sadie decided she’d better call first before just going straight to his apartment. When he didn’t answer in his apartment, she called his cell. He picked up on the first ring and she didn’t give him a chance to say more than hello before she told him everything.
“Jesus H. Christ, Sadie.” He blew out a breath. “Don’t go home.”
“I’m not at home.” She paused. “Actually, I’m in the parking lot of your apartment.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m just out for coffee with a friend. I’ll bring him along. Wait there.”
When he showed up, Sadie was really glad to find out that his friend was a cop.
Nobody said too much until they were inside Zack’s apartment, sitting down with beers in their hands. Zack introduced his cop friend as Nick. He was in his forties with the start of a beer gut and military hair with a bald spot.
“Zack told me you were lured out to the middle of nowhere for a job on a trailer, and it turned into a setup with a biker named Curly. Is that correct?”
Sadie nodded. She noticed her hands were trembling and she tightened her grip on her beer.
“And I’m to believe you had enough horseshoes up your ass that you were able to get away and you drove over his motorcycle?”
“Yes.”
He let out a low whistle.
“First I’m going to need to know where this all happened.”
Sadie gave him the precise directions she’d received from the man who gave his name as Lou Montie.
Nick the cop got up, made a phone call, and sat back down.
“We got a car going out to check,” he said, and downed what remained of his beer. “Describe Curly.”
“Ugly,” Sadie said, and drank from her own bottle. “Curly beard that’s kind of reddish. Fat head. Big belly. Mean eyes. About five ten.”
Nick nodded. “Sure as hell sounds like Carl Boyle.” He walked across the room to Zack’s desk and punched the name into the computer there. A few clicks later and a picture filled the screen.
“That’s him,” Sadie said, her lower lip trembling.
“Carl Boyle,” Nick said. “He was the very first president of Fierce Force when it started up in the early nineties. He ran the organization like a finely oiled machine and never hesitated to take out the competition. Carl goes by the name ‘Curly the Cutter.’ ”
Sadie thought about the sharp knife pressed to her throat.
“I don’t think I want to know why he goes by ‘Cutter, ’ ” she said, a hand to her throat.
“No. You don’t,” Nick said seriously.
“I remember hearing about him when I was on the force,” Zack said. “But I thought he moved out of Seattle years ago.”
“He moved a little north, but he kept his fingers in the FF pie. The feds have had their eye on him for ages. They suspect he’s been laundering money through his business in Bellingham.”
“What business is that?” Zack asked.
“He runs an RV lot selling used and new motor homes,” Nick said matter-of-factly.
“He thinks I stole from the FF. Half the money in the walls was taken as evidence. There was a hundred thousand, right?”
Nick nodded in confirmation.
“There was supposed to be double that. Curly thinks I took it. Loaded it into my van in the waste bins.” She took a deep breath. “If I could write him a check, I would. I’ve got a feeling this isn’t going away.”
“Especially after you drove over his baby. His black cherry Road King Classic Harley,” Nick said, and offered her a wry smile.
Zack smiled too, but it was more of a way to break the tension, because nobody really found any of this funny.
Sadie gave Nick the contact phone number she had for Lou Montie, now Curly the Cutter.
“We’ll look into it, but—,” Nick said.
“It’s most likely an untraceable cell phone that has already been tossed into the ocean,” Zack finished.
“Yup,” Nick agreed, getting up to leave.
“There’s more,” Sadie said quietly.
Zack’s gaze cut quickly to her face, trying to read what she was going to say. Sadie had been attempting to figure out a way to say it without revealing her secret talent. She had a choice to lie or tell the truth. Today, lying won.
“Curly said something about the body of a woman buried under the monkey tree on the Kenmore property.”
“You mean Penny Torrez, the woman who had the baby cut out of her?” Nick asked.
“No. It’s a different one. Someone named Bambi. She may have been a prostitute.”
“Hot damn.” Nick rubbed his hands together. “The feds may be trying to put Curly away for money laundering, but murder’s even better.”
Not for Penny or Bambi, Sadie thought.
“I’m pretty sure it was an accidental OD,” Sadie said.
“If there’s a body, we’ll let the coroner decide cause of death,” Nick said.
Sadie couldn’t argue with that.
“I need to get home,” she said.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Zack said.
“He’s right.” Nick nodded. “Sounds like Curly’s got a big hard-on for making sure you end up dead. You need to stay safe.”
Sadie thought about the tip of the razor-sharp blade as it pressed against her throat, and felt her legs go weak. She sat down on the sofa.
“So it’s settled. You’ll stay here,” Zack said firmly.
“Over my dead body,” Sadie grumbled.
Zack strode angrily toward her and stabbed a finger in her face.
“You will end up dead if you think you can go toe-to-toe with bikers.” He turned to Nick. “Tell her how stupid she’s being.”
“Stupid?” Sadie narrowed her eyes and let anger propel her to her feet. “Don’t call me stupid.”
“Then don’t act stupid,” Zack said.
Sadie knew she was in danger from Curly the Cutter if she didn’t go into hiding, but she wasn’t all that sure that staying with Zack would be less dangerous for her heart.