Page 59 of Kansas

“Wow. That smells like…” he groaned uncomfortably, before quickly adjusting himself.

Vivi laughed loudly. “Exactly!”

The sisters chuckled.

The second Angel saw the two sisters, he smiled brilliantly. Moving closer, his eyes locked on the older sister as he leaned against the booth and drawled, “Well, hello there beautiful.”

The older sister blushed.

“Name is Angel. What’s yours?”

“Hope.”

“Yes, you are. You give me all kinds of hope.”

Rolling my eyes, I handed Charity cash for my items, while Vivi handed her Pence’s Visa card. Vivi was right. His card was getting a workout today.

“So, you got plans for this weekend?” Angel asked.

“No.”

“Would you like to come to a barbeque my club is having?”

“I don’t know,” the shy woman barely said, just as her sister Charity piped up. “She’d love to.”

Angel grinned. “What do you say, Kali? Got room for two more pretty ladies?”

“Sure. The more the merrier.” I nodded, smiling.

“Got any more sisters?” Ashe asked.

“Just one. Faith. She made the candles, but she won’t leave the farm,” Charity stated, before Hope bumped her with her hip.

“Well, please come if you can. Angel, give Hope the address and stop flirting. You scare her off and I will never forgive you.”

With bags in hand, I felt a little better, but I still needed a solution for those kids.

Seventeen

Kansas

Turning onto the dirt road that led to the old hunting shack Big Jim once used for clandestine meetings, I wasn’t surprised to find Pence and the rest of the officers waiting. Parking my bike next to the others, I cut the engine and got off. “Everyone here?”

Pence shook his head. “Waiting on Jake Hanover and Conroy.”

Jake Hanover was one of the Lawton Police officers that went with us to Mexico five years ago. He was a good kid. Trustworthy and honest. I knew he wouldn’t miss this meeting for nothing. “Anyone go out to his place to check on him?”

A car coming up the drive stopped anyone from answering. As the car approached, I stepped in front of my brothers when I noticed the driver. It was Ben Taylor, a Lawton Police officer who was one of the first on the scene after the attack on the clubhouse. He was also with us when we raided and slaughtered the Vasquez Cartel.

The car skidded to a stop as Officer Taylor jumped out. “Kansas, Conroy ain’t coming. Hanover’s dead.”

“Shit,” I muttered, as Pence asked. “Like Miller?”

“Worse,” the young officer stated, looking a little green. “Conroy said he would stop by the club sometime tomorrow. It’s going to be awhile before he finishes processing the scene. It’s bad, Kansas. Really bad. Whoever killed him painted the walls with his body. The Chief is beyond pissed. Hanover makes the second officer he’s lost in a month. He knows something is going on and it won’t take him long to figure out Lawton has a serial killer on the loose. When he does, the Chief will call in the Feds.”

“It was Serrano,” Monk stated the obvious.

We all knew who it was. The problem we had was the man was a fucking ghost. Since Miller died, there have been no sightings of the fucker. No one had seen him. We had nowhere to look.

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