Page 17 of Enforcing the Rules

Pull yourself together, Kate.

“Utah. Let’s roll.”

Utah grinned, flashing perfect white teeth, and his smile had my insides melting.

“Guess I gotta go.” He tapped my chin. “You should stay clear of guys like that. They’re bad news.”

I nodded and gave him some sass. “Unlike you, right?”

He walked backward and clutched his chest. “Right through the heart. You wound me, m’lady.”

I chuckled. “I somehow doubt it.”

He laughed, and I got the impression that wasn’t something this man did often. He walked to his bike and threw a leg over.

I did a fake curtsy. “Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow, brave knight.”

His shoulders shook, and he blew me a kiss. Then the two of them roared off down the street, leaving me standing frozen. I felt like something important had just happened. I just didn’t know what.

CHAPTER SIX

Utah—

No one had been able to find a trace of the Dude, so Memphis and I sat at a table in the clubhouse and went through the paperwork we’d taken from his storefront office. Memphis took a stack, and I took a stack. I glanced at the business and contact information, jotting it down on a list to follow up on.

“By the way,” Memphis said. “Hondo’s gonna make it. Heard the news last night.”

I nodded, happy to hear it, and went back to my stacks.

We’d already spoken with the landlord for the space the Dude had rented. According to him, he’d sublet it for only three months from the previous tenant. Everything about this guy was turning out to be shady as hell. What kind of accountant only needs an office for a few months? The devious kind. I had to wonder if stealing from the club had been his plan all along.

I flipped to the last file and jotted the info down, then tossed it on the stack.

Memphis did the same with his stack and looked over. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” I glanced at my list. “Let’s start with Jack Simmons. Owns that auto detailing place on Camino Del Rio. I seem to remember riding past it last week and seeing a couple of squad cars out front.”

“You’re thinking he was robbed?”

I nodded. “I think there’s a good chance every business in this stack has either been hit or he was planning to hit them.”

“I think you’re right. Judging from these old tax forms, all of these businesses were doing well.”

“Let’s go.”

We headed to our bikes and rode across town to Camino Del Rio. As we pulled into the lot, we saw a small office attached to a large metal building. Dismounting, we strode in the door. One guy sat behind a desk, tapping away at a computer.

The smell of car wax and cleaning solvents hit me in the face, and I noticed an open doorway leading into the metal building. Two men were waxing a Land Rover.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” The man stood, taking in our cuts. He was in his mid-thirties, with thick wavey hair and wire glasses.

“You the owner?”

“Yes, sir.” He extended his hand. “Jack Simmons.”

“Lookin’ for a dude named Charlie Cochran. Heard you might have been a client of his.”

His chin pulled to the side. “Where’d you hear that?”

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