Page 16 of Property of the Hellfire Riders

“You’re not listening to me!”

I grasp Detective Reynold’s shoulder hard, forcing him to stop then turn to face me, at least acknowledge my presence.

“Isabella!” he almost snaps, though his temper never wavers. He removes his glasses, wiping them with a thin microfiber then returns them to spot on his sharp nose. “I thought I made it clear that you are suspended.”

“That’s not what—” I bite my tongue before I say something I might later regret, but oh man—do I want to light this guy up.

The evening sun dips below the horizon, spreading golden light over the parking lot. Several other employees shuffle out of the police station as their day comes to an end. I try to shift my posture to avoid their lingering eyes, but they all have probably heard the gossip by now.

Reynolds kicked me out.

Coming back is risky and not the best look, but I don’t have a lot of choices.

Actually, I have zero.

If the information Laina collected ended up in the wrong hands, we’d be screwed. I need him to know about what Laina’s found and the fact, she might be in terrible danger.

“I don’t care if I’m suspended or not, Reynolds. Laina’s life is at stake!”

He sighs and glances around before opening his car door, leaning against the Audi’s black door. “I’ll give you five minutes.” He passively looks at the watch on his wrist.

“Laina found something big, about the Hellfire Riders.”

“That’s not hard to do. They’re one of the most notorious criminal organizations running around our city. Everything they do is big.”

I fight back a scowl.

“No!” God, he’s making me get angry and lose my train of thought. I had practiced over and over what I was going to say to him, and now I’m buckling under the pressure. I straighten my posture and keep my gaze on his still eyes. “It’s about the Puppeteer.”

That stops him then. It’s faint, but I catch it before he hides the tiniest amount of reaction.

Reynolds might be a sergeant detective but I’ve been in the field long enough. I’m not the young, silly twenty-something he thinks is standing in front of him. I catch the glimmer of interest that passes as soon as he blinks. His dark eyes flick down to the file in my hands. He doesn’t say anything, instead he merely tilts his head. He’s waiting.

“Laina’s gone missing,” I say then, going back to the script I’d planned. “I found her phone, keys, wallet, everything a sane person would take with them if they left. They were all in her apartment along with this file.”

“When was the last time you spoke to her?” he asks.

“Yesterday morning.”

He nods, running his finger along his clean-shaven jaw. I imagine if it was grown in, it’d be mostly silver.

“She has a running theory that there’s a connection between the Hellfire Riders and the Puppeteer. She’s been collecting data on them for a while now and the killer. It’s all been stored here.”

His eyes narrow.

“I don’t know how serious I can take this Izzy. It sounds like a rather outlandish idea.”

“Reynolds. Please.” The look he gives me is the same an impatient parent gives their toddler. “I know how it sounds. But even so... bare with me please.”

He lets out a long sigh and leans back. I’m losing him.

“Two more minutes.”

“I think she went to their clubhouse or put herself in harm’s way. I’m not sure but I think she’s in serious danger, Reynolds. I need your help.”

He holds up his hand.

“Izzy, I’m trying to be empathic here, but it’s hard. You’ve both already pissed me off this week. But here’s the deal, okay? I really doubt there’s a connection between the biker gang and our most wanted serial killer. I mean we’re dealing with two completely different criminal profiles. Secondly, I can’t just go and start a war because your friend decided to go digging where she shouldn’t, and that’s if she’s even with them.”

---