Page 25 of Striker

Whatever she was about to say gets paused as I scroll through the information on my phone.

Jinx lands in the seat beside me and comments, “You’re sittin’ here with a pretty lady and all you can do is scroll on your phone with a sour look on your face. This, my friend, is why you’re still single.”

“I found somethin’ on Anthony Vale.” I turn the phone so he and Beth can both see, explaining as they look at it, “It looks like someone’s been putting money into Vale’s prison commissary account a little at a time over the last six months. They’re using a financial services company that handles that kind of thing.”

Jinx just grins. “Why is it always the small, dumb shit that trips people up?”

“I don’t know, but whoever this is might lead us to whoever is financin’ his legal team and in turn trying to scare Beth away from testifyin’.”

“Why do you always gotta be this way, Striker?” Jinx teases. “Maybe he’s got a friend or family member concerned about his wellbeing in prison. It doesn’t always have to be somethin’ nefarious.”

I snatch my phone back and tell my jokester of a best friend why I’m probably right about this. “It’s because I already checked and he’s estranged from his whole fuckin’ family. None of them will have anything to do with him. And because Beth already said he didn’t have any real friends because nobody could stand his arrogant ass.”

Jinx glances at Beth, who nods. “It’s true. I never met one single person who liked him the whole time I worked for him.”

He shrugs. “It’s a lead, and that’s more than the brothers have turned up canvassing the whole fuckin’ town.”

I tell them, “This guy’s name is Denny Richards. I’ll pull a background check on him when we get home and pay him a little visit in the mornin’.” Jerkin’ my chin at Jinx, I ask, “Do you want to tag along? It’s just your kind of adventure because we might have to beat the information outta him.”

Jinx cracks his knuckles and gives me a feral grin. “You better believe it, brother.”

“We’ll leave at first light,” I tell him. “Let’s meet up at my place and head out.”

“I’ll be there. You can count on it.”

Beth is suspiciously quiet, but I don’t overthink that piece.

Instead, I look at the name on my screen one more time before putting my phone away. This is the kind of lead that can go somewhere or nowhere. I hope it leads us to whoever is fronting the money for Vale’s legal team, but we just have to fuckin’ wait and see.

Chapter 12

Striker

Iwake up before the sun comes up, grab a shower and get dressed for the day. I don’t take time to make coffee because I want to peruse my security feeds, check the brothers’ group chat to see if they found any trace of Beth’s stalker while out canvassing, and check to see if my trackers have picked up any more information on Vale.

I normally have a full day of work before most fuckers even crawl out of bed. I like being productive. But what I like even more is that kiss Beth gave me yesterday and the feeling of hope it inspires that I might get another chance with her. The taste of that kiss I’ve been dreaming about for three years and never saw coming was so fuckin’ good. I’m not big on surprises but I loved that one.

After working through everything on my list, I start digging up everything I can on Denny Richards. He’s renting a small one-bedroom apartment on the wrong side of town. He lives alone and there is no one else on the lease. Poor fucker is paying child support to three different women. I grab an image of him from his social media account and cross-match him with my security feeds. That’s how I find out he eats at the same greasy spoon diner every single morning around nine. This might be a convenient place to approach him. That’s as far as I get before Jinx arrives. I put on my cut and go out to meet him.

He looks like death warmed over.

“Are you still wearin’ yesterday’s clothes?” I ask, ’cause that’s not like my normally well-groomed club brother.

He shoots me a look that says back the fuck off before giving me a grudging explanation. “The baby was up all night. I finally got her down around five,” he says. “You could say I’m running on spite and caffeine at this point.”

“It sounds like you’re ready to go ruin somebody’s morning. Am I right, brother?”

“Hell the fuck, yes you are. As a matter of fact, I hope he’s the most uncooperative asshole on God’s green earth.”

I can’t help but laugh at Jinx’s bad mood and what passes for a coping mechanism in his world.

We jump on our bikes and head for his apartment rather than the greasy spoon diner because it’s early yet. Riding the open road is the best part of my day. There ain’t nothing like the sense of freedom you get when the rubber hits the road, and you get to listen to the throaty roar of your engine early in the morning.

We get there at seven-forty. Jinx keeps a lookout and blocks me from the security camera while I pick the lock to his door. It only takes me a minute and then we slip inside. I can hear the shower going, so we know he’s getting ready for his day. He comes out wearing his underwear and is vigorously rubbing a towel through his wet hair. He’s so busy that he doesn’t see two big bikers waiting on him in the living room.

“Denny Richards, we’d like to have a word with you,” I say sternly.

He stops dead in his tracks and stares for a second like he can’t believe this is happening. Then he starts babbling. “Look, whatever this is, you got the wrong guy. I don’t want no trouble with the Sons of Rage MC. I know some people say you’re all assholes and your bikes are too damn loud, but I ain’t never had a beef with any of the brothers. I stay in my lane, respect your cut and don’t mess around with your old ladies. I don’t want no trouble, man. I’ll even swear on the Bible if you want me to.”