Page 25 of Lone Star

Nice touch, Candy though with an inward grin.

“You said you saw two men fleeing the scene?” Cantrell asked, pen poised above his notepad.

When the interview was over, Jenny thanked him, accepted the card he offered her, and Candy escorted the good agent outside to his dusty unmarked car. He told himself that the eyes he felt burning holes in his back were just his imagination, and not the silent censure of his club brothers.

It was noon, and the sun beat down, cool, but relentlessly bright. Cantrell had sweat on his temples, though, by the time they’d crossed the scrubby front lawn, gone through the gates, and reached the parking lot where the unmarked sat beside a row of gleaming Harleys.

Cantrell produced a handkerchief and wiped his brow with it. Candy wondered if he had some sort of condition, or if he himself had grown so used to the heat that it took truly soaring temperatures to make him uncomfortable.

“You and I both know,” Cantrell said, “that there’s no one holding a grudge against your sister.”

“Got a little crush, huh?” Candy said mildly, just to be a shit.

“Shut up. This was a message for you – for the club. Because you’re connected to Pacer?”

“That’s my guess.”

“Or was Pacer targeted because of you, too?”

Candy’s step faltered a moment. He hadn’t considered that.

“I’m convinced these are related to the Nevada killings,” Cantrell continued, as they pulled up beside the car. Someone – not Cantrell, Candy didn’t figure – had drawn a heart in the dust on the gas flap with a fingertip. “All the markers are the same: same position of the bodies; same method of slitting the throat. The stakes and the cord used to tie them even look to be the same brand – just waiting on the lab to confirm.”

“That’ll take forever,” Candy said, fake-cheerful. He planted his hands on his hips and squared off from the agent. “Let’s say it’s the same guy. When were those other killings: a month ago? You’ve gotta have more intel than you’re cluing me into.”

Cantrell stared at him, squinting against the sun.

“If you want my help, then I want yours. Tell me something useful.”

“And what will you do with that information?”

“If you’re asking me to lend a hand, you’re not really in a position to ask that kind of question, are you?”

After a long moment, Cantrell sighed, shoulders slumping. “There were other killings, besides Nevada. In Phoenix. The vics weren’t affiliated with any kind of club or gang, not that we’ve found yet. None of them were related, or knew each other, from what we could tell. But.” His voice lowered, though there wasn’t another soul who wasn’t a Lean Dog for miles. “They were drugged.”

“Makes sense,” Candy said. “If you’re gonna move a guy, tie him up, then kill him, he’d need to either be willing, or doped up out of his mind. And you said y’all found ketamine in the vics in Nevada.”

“We did. But in Arizona…We haven’t been able to pin down what it is, exactly.”

Candy lifted his brows. “It’s been tested?”

“Of course.” Cantrell made a face. “But it’s none of the usual stuff: not Special K, or morphine, or fentanyl, or heroin. We’ve run it against every kind of sedative we’ve got in the database, and so far, no match.”

“So it’s something new. Designer, maybe.”

“I’ve got someone who thinks she can figure it out, but it might take some time.”

“Hm.” Candy’s mental gears were already spinning. “Right. Well.” He took a step back. “If you figure out what it is–”

“Wait.” Cantrell ’s gaze sharpened. “What are you planning?”

Candy grinned. “You don’t wanna know. If I find out something useful, I’ll give you a call.”

He walked back to the clubhouse with Cantrell frowning after him.

~*~

“He wasn’t bad. For a cop,” Jenny said, shrugging. It was lunch time, and they were at a table in the common room, empty of all the boys, save the new prospect, a stocky guy in his twenties the guys had dubbed Nickel for reasons Michelle had been too tired and busy to ask about. “Kinda had that sad bachelor thing going on.” She snorted. “Looked like he rolled outta bed and pulled a jacket on over his PJs.”

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