Page 39 of Dane

Ethan shook his head, chuckling. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He sat at the table and leaned back in the chair. “I actually have more news. Sandlin rolled over,” he said. “Called me at six this morning. He’s looking at accessory after the fact, conspiracy, and attempted kidnapping from yesterday’s parking lot stunt. He’s got a wife in Indianapolis, two kids, and a mortgage he can’t pay if he’s inside. I told him no guarantees until I saw what he had.”

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “What’d he give you?”

“The case Sandlin received through Hoosier Law Offices in Terre Haute. His instructions and the case parameters. The objective being to document any contact he could between Brielle and you, Dane. He wanted to get you sent back to prison. And yes, he was supposed to get the package Mr. Norris gave to Brielle. Brielle was right. He thought the evidence she’d taken was in that package.”

“The more I find out about this guy, Sandlin, the more I’m beginning to see what a dumbass he is,” Lana muttered.

“He gave up payment records coming from the same BLC Holdings shell Knight found. All deposited to Sandlin’s account since, even though he was hired through the firm, he freelanced the job. The law firm was simply the go-between.”

“Once we go through all of what Sandlin gave Ethan,” Lana said, glancing at Ethan with a raised eyebrow, “it sounds like we’ll have something solid and damning on Sutton. And Sutton dug his own grave with the parking lot incident.”

I gave her a puzzled look. “I don’t understand.”

“He’s the one who filed charges of theft against her. Then he followed her here,” Lana explained. “Also, there’s the happy coincidence that Brielle’s own affidavit is currently sitting in front of a judge. The parking lot might not have cameras where he approached her, but the bank does. Sutton is the one who approached her, and I have a teller who witnessed it.”

Knight snorted. “Sounds like he’s trapped in his own paperwork.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ethan’s smile widened, then faded. “Hastings closed the violation on your file this morning, Dane. Called it ‘unsubstantiated, source lacks credibility.’ You’re good.”

I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. While I didn’t mind going back to prison for Brielle, I’d just found her. And I’d made a promise to her. So, yeah. Knowing I was in the clear brought a profound sense of relief.

Chapter Sixteen

Dane

I stood at the edge of the food court with Brielle close enough to smell her shampoo in the soft breeze. I’d grown used to having her close for weeks now. It seemed natural to put my arm around her or to lean in to kiss her cheek.

The Kiss of Death Halloween charity run happened on the last Saturday in October, the proceeds all going to Haven. This year we’d opened Haven’s new building, deeper inside the compound and tucked away from everything and everyone but the club, and then only certain members.

Knuckles had wanted three hundred riders minimum, he’d said. We’d cleared four hundred before registration had been open an hour. Now they were strung along the service road in a ragged formation that would tighten once we got underway. Right now, though, everyone milled about, eating and greeting old friends. The drinking would come after at Throttle.

I scanned the area automatically. I doubt I’d ever fully break the habit. Now that I had Brielle to protect, I didn’t intend to. The place was covered with both bikers and community leaders and prominent figures. Regardless of what the community might say about us behind our backs, this charity ride was very popular in the city. Haven took women in abusive situations so bad, no other shelter wanted to take them for the safety of their other residents.

The registration tables sat draped in orange and black, volunteers from the wider shelter network handing out route maps and coffee. Most of the old ladies moved through the crowd with thermoses and foil-wrapped sandwiches, calling out to riders they knew, passing out the food with a smile and friendly conversation. The police had parked four cruisers at the road’s edge, officers in reflective vests working the rollout cones, chatting with Knuckles and Gunnar near the lead bikes. Worthy cause with a family friendly event. Visible community presence. All the things that kept the club’s legitimate face forward while we handled other business behind the scenes.

Brielle shifted beside me, tucking her chin deeper into her scarf. She’d dressed in boots, jeans, and a black fleece under a heavy leather motorcycle jacket I’d bought her. I’d tried to give her a property vest twice. She’d looked at it, looked at me, and said we’d talk about it later. That was three days ago. I hadn’t pushed, but the urge to lock her down was strong. But I got it. I could wait.

“You’d think they were giving away free bikes,” she said, smiling as she gazed around in barely contained excitement.

“Pretty sure there might have been something donated to raffle off.” I couldn’t help but smile. Zero had been mad as shit he couldn’t buy a ticket. Apparently, he’d pissed off the wrong woman. As in, the woman who ran the raffle.

My gaze hit the registration tent and the cluster of donors gathered there in coats that cost more than most of these bikes, and I stopped. Suits always made me uneasy. They reminded me too much of the public defenders I was shuffled through until after my trial.

I spotted Tiny thirty yards to my left, his mohawk and braided beard making him easy to spot above the crowd. Not to mention his seven-foot three-hundred-fifty-pound frame. The Kiss of Death cut he wore had his name on one side and Road Captain on the other, both at the shoulders. Under that, he wore a flannel shirt. His gaze swept the area much like I did. He’d be leading the procession and liked to get a feel for who he needed to keep an eye on and who was basically harmless. I saw him zero in on the same group I’d noticed.

One man in a good coat moved through the donor cluster with easy posture, shaking a hand here, nodding there, like he belonged. Which was exactly the point. Sutton never looked out of place anywhere. Fifty-something, well-maintained, the kind of physical presence people automatically deferred to.

He’d come for her in public, believing he could use his stature to keep suspicion at bay. He’d dressed to intimidate, but he’d walk up to us like this was a coincidence, a friendly encounter. And no one would believe that a man like him would be the one in the wrong.

I grabbed Brielle’s wrist, tugging her with me. She must have felt the change in me immediately because she turned her head, following the line of my gaze. She stiffened next to me and I knew she wanted to bolt. I didn’t blame her. I wanted her as far from Sutton as I could get her.

“Don’t,” I said, low enough that only she would hear. “Just stand here.”

She didn’t answer. Her chin came up, fractionally. Her free hand hung loose at her side, and I saw her shift her weight, planting her feet as she prepared for a fight.

The police weren’t paying us any attention, too focused on the massive sprawl of bikes getting ready to roll from here through Nashville. Tiny turned and did a double take when his gaze landed on me. Yeah. The man recognized the look on my face as knowing something was going down. He grabbed his radio and spoke softly even as he headed to us.

Sutton kept coming with single-minded purpose. His expression seemed mild, but there was something just that little bit off about him.