Page 119 of Half Baked

Kipsey turned to face him. “I know you killed my brother,Gordy.”

George stumbled a few steps backward. “What?”

“I knew someone in this shithole did it, and I needed a place to set up base after I got out, so I figured I might as well come here and find out who killed him. Imagine my surprise when I found out it was you.”

“You have no proof of that,” George countered.

“Oh, I think I’ve got all the proof I need. You took my brother, so I figure hurtingherwill hurt you way more than outright killing you.” An evil grin spread across his face. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

ChapterThirty-One

Noah

Lance insisted on driving out to Cock of the Walk. I called one of my sheriff’s deputy friends on the way and told him the situation, asking him to arrange for several deputies to meet us out there.

“We’re going to make it in time,” Lance said, shooting me a nervous glance.

“Yeah,” I said absently, but I couldn’t help thinking about how long Kipsey and his men had kept her and what they could have done to her.

I had to believe she was still alive. I had to believe she was safe.

Lance’s phone rang, and he put the call on speaker. “Forrester.”

“Hey, Lance. We’ve gone to George Dempsey’s house and his garage and there’s no sign of him,” Neil said through the speaker. “One of his employees said he was working in the garage. He got a call and they say he started acting weird, then he took off.”

I shot a glance to Lance. “Neil, how long ago was that?”

“About an hour ago.”

My stomach sank. If he’d been summoned by Kipsey an hour ago, there’d been more than enough time for Kipsey to use Maddie as his leverage and then be done with her.

“Should we keep looking for him?” Neil asked.

“No,” I said. “Dempsey’s already on his way or at the location Kipsey’s called him to.” I turned to Lance. “Do you think he’d be brazen enough to hold a meetup at Cock of the Walk?”

“Yeah,” Lance said. “I think so.”

My throat tightened. “If we make the wrong call, and she’s not there when we show up, he might kill her.”

“I know. Which is why it’s your call. If you want to take some time to dig in so we can be certain, just say the word.”

I took a breath and considered my options, forcing myself to look at the situation with my head, not my heart. I shook my head. “No. We stick with the plan.”

My anxiety ratcheted up with every mile we grew closer to the bar. We were going without a search warrant, which meant we couldn’t force our way inside the bar.

How was I going to search the property for her?

We’d figure out a way.

It turned out to be easier than I’d expected. The property had an eight-foot-tall barbwire chain link fence, with a large gate to the right of the building that led to a large gravel lot with several outbuildings. The parking lot had a handful of cars, but I was most interested in the gate. I was ready to tell Lance to plow through it—a legally gray move—but it was partially open.

I could see two sheriff’s deputy cars, lights flashing and sirens blaring, coming from the opposite direction.

Lance reached the lot first, and he must have read my mind, because he headed for the gate. “Drive through it,” I grunted.

He held on tight to the steering wheel. “That’s the plan.”

He sped through the too-small opening, barely slowing down.

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