Page 49 of Sachie's Hero

Sachie followed and wished she’d taken a deep breath while she’d been outside.

The place reeked of what smelled like cigarettes and rancid trash. The small house was a hoarder’s nightmare, with dirty clothing littering varioussurfaces, old pizza boxes stacked in the corners and beer cans strewn across a carpet that had become the drop cloth of a desperate woman’s life. Candice Franklin lay on an old sofa, wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a faded and torn AC/DC T-shirt. One arm was draped over her eyes, the other in a cast and a sling across her belly. “What do you want? I already told the police I don’t know where that loser went. They should never have let him out of jail.”

When Candice lowered her arm, Sachie swallowed hard to keep from gasping.

Her narrow face was bright shades of purple and blue, with one eye swelled shut, her lip swollen to twice what would have been normal and a scabbed gash on her left cheek that would leave an ugly scar.

She must have seen the horror in Sachie’s expression because she snorted and said, “Travis likes to leave his calling card. Don’t you think I’m pretty?” She tried to smile, managing only to lift one side of her mouth, making it more of a sneer.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Sachie said. “We’d like to see him hauled back to jail. Did he say anything about where he was heading?”

“You think I wouldn’t have told the police already? I want him back in prison even more. He blamed me for putting him there in the first place, when it was what he did to my sweet Lily that got him arrested.He blamed me and that woman working with the police who stood up in court and testified against him.”

Candice squinted through her semi-good eye. “I know you, don’t I?” She squinted again. “I never forget a face. Names now are a different story. Were you one of the nurses at the hospital when they brought me in after Travis tried to remodel my face and ribs?”

Sachie shook her head. “No, ma’am.” She didn’t want to remind the woman that she was the one who had testified in court against Travis and Candice. They needed any information the battered woman could give them that might help them find Travis. “You say you don’t know where Travis went, but before he went to prison, did he have places he liked to go to get away from it all? Maybe to a family member or friend’s house? Doesn’t he have a grandmother who lives on the island?”

Candice snorted. “She won’t have nothing to do with his sorry ass. Last time he visited her, he stole the money she had hidden under her mattress. If he’d asked for it, she probably would’ve given it to him. She practically raised him after his mother went off with a younger man and didn’t want a kid tagging along. When Travis stole the money from his grandma’s stash, she cut him off. Told him she didn’twant to see him anymore. He won’t have gone there.”

“Friends?”

“He had some friends in that motorcycle gang. They wanted him to join, but he didn’t have a motorcycle. I’m not sure where they live, but they hang out at that dive of a bar—the Leather and Chains. If he ain’t with them, he might be hiding out on the other side of the island with his cousin, Reuben Jones, on the North Shore. He works on surfboards during the day and deals drugs when he needs extra income. You didn’t hear that from me. Never did like Reuben. That horse’s ass punched his girl in the gut while she was pregnant with his kid. Made her miscarry. Probably just as well. They didn’t need to bring a brat into that environment. He and Travis are sadistic bastards. Don’t care who they hurt, young or old.”

Candice closed her eyes and laid her good arm over her face. “Why was it you wanted to talk to Travis?”

“We think he might be involved in other attacks,” Sachie said, “and want to stop him before he hurts anyone else.”

“Shouldn’t the cops be doing that?” Candice said to the ceiling. “Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass. Travis can rot in hell for all I care. Just keep him away from me.” She opened her eyes again and stared at Sachie. “I know you from somewhere, just can’t put my finger on it.”

“I’m sure it will come to you.” Sachie glanced around the small living area. “Can I get you anything?”

“A water bottle from the fridge would be great and save me from trying to get up to get it.” She coughed and held her ribs at the same time. “Dammit. That hurts.”

Sachie picked her way across the debris to the refrigerator, snagged a half-empty water bottle from the door and returned to Candice. “I hope you get well soon.”

“Thanks,” she said and scooted into a sitting position. “What did you say your names were?”

“Teller Osgood,” Teller said.

Sachie didn’t add her name to his announcement and wouldn’t unless Candice demanded her name. There was no use upsetting the woman further by letting her know Sachie had been involved in removing her daughter, Lily, from her home.

“The motorcycle gang and his cousin Reuben?” Sachie prompted. “Are those the only people or places he might go to?”

“Yeah. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m done talking. Leave.”

Sachie turned, met Teller’s gaze and lifted her chin toward the door. “Ready?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and led the way out of the shack and down the stairs to the sidewalk.

Back in the car, Sachie sighed. “I guess you know where I want to go next?”

“If it’s to the motorcycle club bar, you’re crazy,” he said. “But I won’t say no, though I might have my team on standby.”

“Travis sounds like he hasn’t learned how to control his anger during his brief time in prison. We might need to call in reinforcements.”

CHAPTER 13

Teller wasn’t thrilledabout busting into a biker bar looking for one of their own. And he sure as hell didn’t want to take Sachie in there with him.

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