Page 82 of Riff

Maroon van.

That was the same way she’d described the van that had taken her from her hometown.

Those motherfuckers.

Vienna.

I knew what had happened to her in that van. He hadn’t even waited until he got her back to the shed.

“Where? Where did it go?” I barked as I ran into the street, raising my arms to get the attention of the guys on bikes who wouldn’t hear me if I yelled.

“I don’t know. But it didn’t go out of town. It’s still in Shady Valley somewhere.”

“Get in a car,” I barked to Rook. “Stay near the exit of the town, so they can’t get past,” I told him as the others came back, drawing the attention from those who were in the stores, everyone rushing toward me at once.

“It’s them,” I told them, watching Raff’s face fall. “Maroon van. Rook said it didn’t leave town. Find it,” I snapped, turning, and rushing back to my still-running car, slamming the door, and peeling off.

It hadn’t been that long, I tried to remind myself as my anxiety reached a fever pitch that was making my very fucking vision shaky.

It didn’t need to be that long, another voice replied.

And, goddamnit, if she hadn’t been upset with me, if she hadn’t left the clubhouse in such a hurry, she would have grabbed her weapons. She always had them on her, earrings included, if she was going out. Even if she was with a bunch of us. She liked the feeling of being able to protect herself even if she didn’t need to.

And because of me, she had none of that.

“Fuck,” I snapped, slamming my hands on the steering wheel, the pain clearing my mind a bit, allowing me to think past the anxiety.

There were only so many places in town you could hide a van.

My brother would be checking the alleys and the lots behind the buildings.

I saw Murphy and Sway turn down toward the suburbs, even though there was nowhere easy to wrangle around a kidnapped woman. In that direction, they could also check the mobile home park.

Colter and Detroit headed toward Millionaire’s Row. And they’d be able to check out the apartment buildings too.

Crow and Coach took off toward the farms and toward the mountains, the more remote areas in town.

Which only really left one direction to check out.

Toward the prison.

There was nowhere near the actual prison to hide a van. The area was wide open, allowing the guards in the towers to easily see if someone managed to escape.

The gas station was too much a hub of activity.

But that left… the motel.

It was always quiet during the day.

Not many people stayed at the motel. It was busier on prison visiting days, with out-of-town family members looking for a place to stay to come see their locked-up loved ones.

The only other people who frequented the place were ex-cons who needed short-term housing, the men who were on the outs with their wives, and the Johns who used the place to hook up with sex workers.

It was a very… quiet place in the daylight, with a lot more activity at night.

The lot out front that lined along the rooms was nearly empty, but I knew because we’d all been living at the place temporarily, that there was an area behind the building where there were no doors. And the only windows that looked out were the small ones in the bathrooms, the glass frosted so you couldn’t see out if you did think you heard something going down. There was nothing back there besides the dumpsters way off in the back of the lot.

A perfect sort of privacy to park temporarily.

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