Page 20 of Enforcing the Rules

Hansen paled.

We headed to the street, the stock boys staring wide-eyed at us.

I paused at the door and looked back. “What was your friend’s name?”

“You writin’ a book?” Hansen had the courage to reply. Now that we were twenty feet away, he’d found his balls again.

I took a step toward him, and he caved, holding his hands up.

“Ray. Ray Baker.”

The name meant nothing to me, but I filed the info away and followed Memphis out.

“You think he’s tellin’ the truth?” Memphis asked.

“I think so.” I swung my leg over my bike. “Let’s head to the clubhouse. I’ll check the Pint House tonight.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Utah—

I sat in a booth in the corner, nursing a draft beer, and watching the door. I’d already scanned the bar when I walked in, and Cochran wasn’t here. He was a big dude, and one not easy to miss.

From my position, I had a clear view of the entire room. Yet, the bar was dark, and I was in the shadows. I didn’t draw attention to myself, pretending an interest in my phone, like half the other Millennials and Gen Zs in here. I wore a plain denim shirt with the sleeves rolled down to cover my ink and shoved my club rings in my pocket.

The waitress approached with a flirty smile, putting her hand on the wood of the booth behind my shoulder and leaning over enough to be heard over the music.

“You need another, sweetie?”

I could hear her fine and figured the leaning in was more about letting me get an eyeful of her cleavage in the scooped tank than it was about hearing my reply. She was cute, but I wasn’t interested. I shook my head.

Her smile faded, and she walked away.

I sat for several hours, finally ordering a pitcher so the waitress would leave me alone. The after-work crowd gave way to the evening crowd, and then it too, thinned out.

I tapped out a text to Memphis.

ME: NO LUCK. YOU?

MEMPHIS: NADDA. YOU HANGIN?

ME: I’LL GIVE IT TO LAST CALL.

Movement at the door drew my eyes.

A girl with long blonde curls entered, and I knew right away it was my diner girl, Kate.

It threw me for a moment. I wasn’t a man who believed in coincidences. What were the odds when I’d never seen this girl in town before, that now she’d turned up twice in places where my MC was searching for the Dude?

I dragged a hand down my jaw, wondering if I was being too paranoid. If I had to guess her age, I’d put her around twenty-five, give or take a couple years. That put her a good half-a dozen years younger than me. This was the kind of place her age group frequented. I’d just seen proof of that tonight. Still, something in my gut nagged at me.

She was dressed in heels and a skirt. I figured she was here to meet some friends, but surprisingly, she took a stool at the end of the bar, close to the door and away from everyone.

My eyes scanned to the bartender, and it crossed my mind maybe she was dating him, showing up just before the bar closed. It would make sense.

But he approached her with the same courteousness as if she were any other customer. No leaning close. No kiss. No extended greeting.

I took a sip of my flat beer and watched.

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