Page 9 of Mace

“I know, but Reece told me that it was his ex, Renee. He met her at a bar a few months back, and they got close. I told him to slow things down with her, but he didn’t listen to me.”

“Why would you tell him to slow things down with her?” Brooke asked.

“Because something about her didn’t seem right. She seemed too clingy, and I was worried that she wanted to be with him for the wrong reasons.”

“The wrong reasons?” she asked.

“Yeah,” the old guy breathed, “Reece’s mother had left him a good sum of money. The kid had been through a lot when he was younger, but he turned out to be a pretty decent adult, through no effort on my part. His mom was the one who raised him, and she did a damn good job. When she finally got married, her new husband left her a shit ton of money and well, she left all of that to Reece. I thought that his new girlfriend was looking for a cash cow, and when Reece broke up with her, she got pissed off and killed him.”

“Any idea as to why she killed him in the Road Reapers’ parking lot?” Brooke asked. She worried that the place of Reece’s murder was a coincidence, but she hadn’t been able to prove that yet. She didn’t find any link between Reece and Mace’s bar. Mace said that he didn’t know the guy, but there had to be some connection that she was missing.

“No clue,” the old guy said. She looked him over, trying to decide if he was telling her the truth or not. For some reason, she didn’t believe him, not that she’d call him out on his lie. Brooke was good at sitting back and waiting for a liar to hang themselves with the details. They usually couldn’t get their stories straight in their heads and ended up exposing themselves.

“Did Reece know Mace?” she asked. He seemed to squirm in his seat and Brooke knew that she was onto something.

“Again, I have no clue,” the old guy insisted. “Listen, I’m not the one on trial here. I’m just trying to help Mace and catch my son’s true killer. Can you help me or not?” he spat. Brooke wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t help him, but that would mean that she couldn’t help Mace either and that wasn’t an option for her.

“I’ll help you,” she agreed, “but, I’ll need you to come with me over to Mace’s motel room. We’ll have to go over every detail of that night and try to figure out why your son was at the Road Reapers.” The old guy looked as though he wanted to tell her no, but instead nodded his head.

“Okay,” he mumbled.

“The only way that I can help you is if you are completely honest with me, Mr. Smith,” she insisted.

“Understood,” he said, standing from the booth. He was lying again, but she needed him now, more than she wanted to admit.

“I thought that you were going to let me buy you lunch,” she reminded.

“Yeah, well, I lost my appetite. Let’s just get this next meeting over with. I have a life to get back to,” he grumbled. “I’ll meet you over at his motel.” That was the first thing he said that she believed. Brooke worried that he’d balk and not show up over at Mace’s motel room, but he looked as determined as she felt. One way or another, Brooke planned on getting the truth out of Mr. Smith.

Mace

Mace paced the floor of his small room and ran his fingers through his unruly hair again. He was sure that he looked like a crazy person by this point, but he didn’t care. Waiting for Brooke to get back from her meeting with the old man was driving him nuts. He worried that he had set her up or was going to hurt Brooke, and Mace wouldn’t be there to protect her. Why he felt the need to protect Brooke in the first place disturbed him, but he’d unpack all that later. Right now, pacing like a wild man was working for him—sort of.

A soft tapping at the door had his heart speeding up. He peeked out the window to find Brooke and the old guy standing there. That wasn’t quite what he was hoping for. Actually, he was hoping that Brooke would come back to his motel room, admit that she wanted him, and fall into bed with him. He had a feeling that the old guy would put a crimp in his plans for any of that happening.

He pulled the door open and stared the old guy down. “Why is he here again?” Mace asked Brooke.

“He came along to help us fill in a few blanks,” Brooke explained.

“Such as?” Mace asked.

“Well, he still won’t tell me his name, so I’ve started calling him Mr. Smith,” Brooke said, walking into his motel room. The old guy hesitantly strolled in behind her and Mace quickly shut the door, not wanting to attract too much unwanted attention. His motel room was starting to feel like Grand Central Station.

“Mr. Smith,” Mace repeated, “it really doesn’t suit him, but it’s good for now. Have a seat, Mr. Smith,” Mace ordered. The old guy crossed the small room and sat on the only chair. Brooke took a seat on Mace’s bed and all he could think about was how she’d look curled up on it next to him. Mace shook his head, trying to rid himself of the dirty images that floated through his mind.

Brook seemed to take over the meeting, and Mace wasn’t quite sure what his role was. “How about you start by telling us everything that you know about the woman that you’re accusing of murder.” She crossed her arms over her chest and Mace was sure that she was the hottest woman he had ever seen before.

“I told Mace that I don’t know her name. She was some woman my son was with, and I thought that she was a gold digger. Reece inherited a lot of money when his mother died. All I know is she was a pretty little blond waitress. She liked to work at biker bars and pick up guys like Reese, and him,” the old guy said, nodding at Mace.

“Why was your son in my parking lot?” Mace asked.

The old guy shrugged, and Mace could tell that whatever he was about to tell him was going to be a lie. “Don’t know,” he said.

“How about you try answering that question again, and this time, we’d like the truth,” Brooke insisted. Hearing her call the two of them a “we” made his stomach do a little flip-flop. He wasn’t sure what that sensation even was, but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t good. Mace was never one to swoon over any woman, but for some reason, Brooke made him feel things that he never had before. Hell, she made him want things he never thought that he needed. He was a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy and having her around made him question his whole philosophy on women being just a good time.

“You okay?” the old guy asked. He was smirking at Mace as though he could read his damn mind.

“I’m fine, why?” Mace insisted.

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