Page 42 of Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

“I need a copy of that footage.”

“No,” he said swiftly. “It’s evidence in an open case. Leave it to the professionals.”

“Respect, Drinkswine. But you’ve got no idea what me and mine are capable of.” At that, I cut out, knowing there was no way he’d be handing anything over just yet. Time to call in the reinforcements.

When I got back to my truck, phone in hand, I reached out to my best friend.

“I need you, brother,” I said at the first sign of pick up. “He got to her. We put the safeties in place, but he got to her.Fuck. God dammit—I’m so fucking sorr—”

“You still in Virginia Beach? We’re coming.”

“Back in Smithfield.”

“It’s not your fault, brother,” Blood tried to assure me. “You were doing what your woman wanted. Sometimes we’ve got to go in soft. You were going in soft, I get it.” He says he gets it, but if I’d moved on her sooner, maybe she wouldn’t have met that fuck to begin with. Blood and Hero found her location early on. It took every ounce of reserve I had not to show up at her front door and drag her ass back to Kentucky. But I needed her to realize she needed me, wanted me, wanted to be a part of my life, or I risked losing her for good.

I should’ve gone after her.

“Get here. Sneak. Hero. Boss. Duke. Anyone who you think can help.”

“We’ll be there. Gimme the address. We’ll meet you.”

I gave him the address to type into his GPS, then hung up. The wait, the wait was the worst. Lost so deep in my head, lost in thoughts of what might be happening to Liv while I could do nothing but stand with my finger up my ass like an idiot until the cavalry arrived.

That’s how I ended up here, standing on a street corner in the center of town listening to that gloriously familiar rumble of Harley tailpipes hit Smithfield before my brothers ever do. I flag them down, waving my arm once in the air—not that they’d miss me. The whole of them pull over to the curb, dismounting alone and in pairs until they all stand surrounding me with Blood pushed to the front.

“Cops won’t turn over the camera footage,” I say. Several brothers grumble. “It was grim, man.” That said softer as I shake my head, attempting to shake away the memory.

No matter how many times I’ve seen it, brains and blood where a whole, breathing human being once stood, well, it turns my god damn stomach is what it does.

“Follow me back to Liv’s place. We can try to figure out a strategy.”

I walk over to hop into the driver’s seat of my truck and wait until the brothers are ready, engines revving. Then as one unit, we move out.

It’s only ten minutes before we turn down the long wooded drive. There’s a car I don’t recognize, a BMW parked next to Liv’s truck.

An old couple stand leaning against the trunk. Their heads turn to our approach. Her face appears splotchy, red and puffy. He just looks tired. Physically and emotionally tired. I know because it’s how I feel, and we’re only getting started.

“What can I do for you?” I call out, approaching slowly so as not to scare them. We’re a pretty imposing group.

“You don’t know me,” the woman starts, and her voice sounds thick as if she’d only just stopped crying, “but I know all about you. Actually, you look exactly like she described you.” She sniffles. “I’m Georgie, Smitty’s wife.”

Well, that explains about the crying.

“I’m sorry about wha—”

She holds her hand out to stop me. “That bastard hurt my husband. I guess he got an automatic notification on his phone from the security company… I don’t know what happened next, but his head…” She sniffs. “They kicked me out of ICU.” There’re more tears in the old broad’s eyes. Then she swallows hard. “I want to help you catch him.”

That’s when the old man speaks up. “We both do. I’m Jerry Grandville. I’ve been friends with Smitty for years, and I talk with Liv every morning.”

The fact that he calls her Liv lets me know he’s not bullshitting, which is good since it’s hard trusting anyone around here.

“So how do you want to play this?” I ask.

“My guess, they have the video footage, which you all probably need and I’d bet they wouldn’t share.” Dr. Grandville shifted on his hip to wrap a consoling arm around Georgie. “Chief Brandt is an old friend and his is a small department. We’re going to talk with him.”

“I contacted the security company first off,” Georgie cuts in. “They told me that the footage belonged to them, not to me, and due to the graphic nature would not release it to anyone but the police. Can you believe it?”

Fuck, yeah. I could believe it. Nice lady like her doesn’t need to have those images swimming inside her head for the rest of her life, and that’s exactly how long they’d stick around. Haunting her dreams at night. I feel like I owe her an answer, but sort of stand there stunned for a moment, not ever expecting this kind of help. Then again, what should I expect? That’s the power of Livvy Baxter.

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