Page 33 of Wildcard's Wager

“He’s in the kitchen getting lunch ready. I want to keep him out of sight, in case this asshole knows about him. He’ll want to talk to you. Know what you’re going to say?”

I shrug. “Depends on what he wants to know.”

“They’re through the gate,” Spark announces. He’s sitting at the bar with his iPad in front of him. He is watching all thecameras. When he snorts, I glance over at him. “Rafe stopped him from opening the door. They’re knocking.”

As he says it, we hear it. Puma smirks, but nods at Viper to open the door. When she does, a man pushes his way inside. He’s wearing a cheap suit the color of dust and a blue shirt. He’s sweating and his face is as red as his tie. I get all this without looking directly at him. Chill, Puma, Dice, and I are playing poker. We’re focused on the cards in our hands.

“Look here, you reprobates. I’m Detective Scott Sully. I’m here to get answers and you’re going to give them to me. Or we’re going to have a problem.”

No one pays him the slightest attention. Puma casually selects two chips from the pile in front of him and tosses them into the kitty. “I call. What have you got?”

Dice lays down his cards. He has two aces. Chill has two pairs. I drop my cards in disgust. Puma lays down a flush and chuckles as he claims his winnings. While Chill deals the next hand, I casually scan the room. Rafe winks at me while the other detective fumes. Viper has taken a seat against the wall, her eyes on the detective with her man.

The detective tries another tactic. “Who’s in charge here?” When he doesn’t get a response, he glares at Rafe. “Do something.”

“Puma, can we have a word? I promise we won’t take up too much of your time,” Rafe asks. His polite tone makes me want to snicker. His deference is a direct contrast to the other man’s rudeness.

Puma stays in his seat, but turns slightly to face Rafe. “What can I do for you, Detective Sterling?”

“It’s Acting Lieutenant Sterling,” Rafe corrects him. We all know that he’s getting a promotion. Puma knows his boss. We already have a party planned for him. But we don’t want to let the other man know how close Rafe is with the club.

“Congratulations,” Puma says. “Now, what can I do for you, Acting Lieutenant Sterling? Is this a friend of yours? Thought you had better taste.”

Puma’s words piss the detective off. He kicks Puma’s chair. “Get up, you piece of shit. We’re fucking cops. Show some respect.”

Puma slowly unfolds his 7’0” frame until he’s towering over the two men. I can’t see his expression, but it must be formidable. Even Rafe takes a step a back.

“You come into my home and insult my brothers and sisters, and you dare order me to show you respect? I don’t know who you think you are or where you’re from. But I suggest you go back.”

The man gains enough confidence to glare at Puma, but he doesn’t move closer. “Are you threatening me?”

“If that’s how you want to take it. Now, I’ll ask you again. What the fuck do you want?”

“We’re looking for a woman. We think she came here from Boston to find Wildcard. Her name is Brigit Jones.”

I snort. “Is she looking for her diary?” I ask, getting a snort of laughter from the others.

“She’s supposedly the mother of your child. Does that ring a bell? Or are there too many whores out there who can say the same?” The detective asks.

I ignore him and keep my attention on Rafe. “How am I supposed to know this woman?”

“Her father is a member of the club. He goes by the road name Preacher.”

“No Preacher here,” Puma says. “We have a Nomad that goes by that name, but he’s out of the San Diego Chapter and doesn’t have a daughter. Not sure where you’re getting your info, but you’ve got it wrong. Afraid you made the trip out here for nothing.”

“You think we’ll take your word for it? We’ll look for him ourselves,” Detective Sully proclaims. Rafe rolls his eyes.

“You can search if you have a warrant. Do you have a warrant?” Puma asks. When Sully just glares at him, Puma chuckles. “Didn’t think so. Now, I’ve been more than patient. Time to take your East Coast rudeness and get the fuck out of my clubhouse.”

“I told you this was a waste of time,” Rafe says to Sully. “You don’t have evidence putting your suspect here. Do you?”

“We have a statement from her neighbor. She said Brigit Jones was heading here, because that man is the father of her son.” He points at me while I glare back.

CHAPTER TWENTY: BRIGIT

I gasp when I hear the Detective mention Abby. Is he admitting that he was involved in her disappearance? Did he torture her for information? I’m watching and listening to the events unfolding outside the panic room via a series of monitors. Hunter is splitting his time between watching them with me and watching the kids. Luckily, they’re all focused on the video game they’re playing. The casual acceptance by Elina and the others of being trapped inside the panic room has kept Colt calm, too. When I asked Hunter about it, he explained the kids know being inside here is precautionary. That they often bring the kids in here for an hour or two once a month so they don’t get frightened when they have to come in here for real. Puma’s idea.

My estimation of Puma rises every time I learn something new about him. He is truly kid-focused. Squiggy taught me to fear motorcycle clubs. Puma makes me realize the club is only as good as their President.

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