Page 71 of Mensa's Match

Ultimate Reward

Mensa

Five days had passedsince Mensa helped Whitney move. The investigators were being very tight-lipped on both the shooting and the fire. Mensa had insisted on Whitney staying with him at the clubhouse to be safe. However, last night, they’d stayed at her place. He walked into the clubhouse on Thursday morning, and came face to face with Block and Har. That was odd since both of them had day jobs.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“The arson investigators are focused on Dontrell,” Har said.

“Got that from him when Whitney and I talked to him last Friday.”

The silence lingered, and his chest tightened. “Are they going to arrest—”

“Not yet; they’re lining shit up so it’s harder for Dontrell to post bail.”

Mensa’s eyes widened. “Did they even question the Corrupt Chrome MC?”

Block dragged a hand down his face. “If we were targeting somebody, and took such a drastic step, you know we’d have someone with either the fire department or police in our pocket.”

He couldn’t argue that.

Instead, he changed the subject. “What about the shooting? Sure as hell, the cops should be all over Corrupt Chrome for that.”

Har tipped his head to the side. “You’re right, but since no one was hurt, the news coverage is dying down. Police called ‘Nic an hour ago. They’re keeping an eye out for Rod. I don’t put much stock in that though.”

Mensa shook his head. “Detective Fortner claimed they couldn't find a Corrupt Chrome member named Rod.”

Har nodded. “I don't doubt it. Seems Rod’s gone AWOL.”

“Convenient,” Mensa said.

“Coward is more like it,” Block muttered.

“Anybody know more about him?” Mensa asked.

Har hesitated. “Corrupt Chrome has a chapter in Memphis. I'm waiting on our Riot brothers there to get back to me.”

“Fuck,” Mensa hissed.

“Where’s ‘that woman’?” Har asked, grinning.

Mensa just kept himself from rolling his eyes. “At Hard Pressed until I go get her for lunch.”

“Thinking you need to keep someone on her,” Har said.

He nodded. “You’re right. I’ll get a prospect over to the shop while I take care of what I need to do here.”

Mensa packed a duffel bag to take to Whitney’s. Two minutes ago, a prospect texted that he was in place outside Hard Pressed.

His phone rang, and he expected to see the prospect’s number, but his mom’s name lit up the display.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I know you’re a grown man, Kenneth, but I shouldn’t hear about a shooting at your workplace from your cousin!”

He bit back his immediate response – that the shooting had been days ago. That would only rile her further. “Sorry, Mom. I should have called, but it’s been a little hectic around here.”

“Hectic? Is that the term for dealing with police officers and being questioned downtown?”

---