“Stop playin’ with me. What the fuck does that mean?”
“There was another girl. Some broad pressed charges against Noah Kinlan in college. Charges were dropped, girl left school, bastard got away with it.”
Another girl? Shit, what was wrong with this pervert? “But the guys found her?” I asked.
“Yep. We have an address. She lives in Mount Vernon with her folks. I don’t know if she’ll talk to us. How do you want to handle this?”
Emily.
No. I knew she’d have to disclose all evidence if the prosecutor asked for it, and I didn’t trust the mayor or his cronies. Who knew what Asshole Kinlan would do when he found out we had possession of someone who could wreck his chances of reelection?
Unable to reach out to Emily, I called Pops.
If anyone could make someone buy into a cause, it was Pops. On more than one occasion I’d told him he’d missed his calling as a salesman, because he could fundraise like nobody’s business. With a soothing demeanor and a tactic for every level of stingy you could fathom, I’d seen Pops tug on heartstrings, guilt, sweet talk, flirt, and when none of those worked, he’d talk their ears off until potential donors gave in.
Pops didn’t just talk, though. He was the real deal, and he genuinely cared about people. It was a rare quality, and not one that could be easily overlooked. He made people feel safe, valued, and needed, which was why I needed his retired old ass to get back to work.
“Hey, kid, what can I do you for?” Pops answered.
To him, I’d always be “kid.” It wasn’t a sign of disrespect—Pops made it clear he was damn proud of the man I’d become—but rather a reminder that he was still older, wiser, and would still kick my ass if I stepped out of line.
I filled him in on the situation, and in no time, we were on our sleds, cruising up I5 to Mount Vernon. We pulled up in front of a small ranch-style home with gray vinyl siding and a white picket fence. The neighborhood was nice, inhabited by working middle-class families who kept their yards mowed and their garbage cans out of sight. It was approaching nine a.m., so driveways were empty and the streets were clear.
Pops and I parked in front of the garage and removed our helmets.
“How you wanna handle this?” he asked, kicking his leg over the back of his bike.
I couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t so easy for him to dismount anymore. He winced and adjusted his hips. The old man was getting… well, old, and the kind of life he’d led had rode him hard and put him away wet. We had a ride down to Portland coming up soon, and I wondered how his body would handle it.
“Don’t look at me that way, kid,” Pops said. “Still got plenty of years in this body.”
I’d been caught. My concern must have been written all over my face. I bowed my head. “Yessir. And I don’t know. You’re the expert at this shit.”
“What’d you say her name was again?”
Pops used to be great with names, but his memory seemed to be fading with his agility.
“Candice.”
He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “All right, but I’ll expect you to take notes. I can’t be doing your job for you every damn time you call.”
“Yessir.”
I hid a smile. Pops loved it when I asked him for help. I knew, because his wife tattled on him. Of course, Margo also admitted that she enjoyed getting him out of her hair from time to time, so she could have been blowing smoke up my ass to get some alone time. But judging by the smile barely hidden by his mostly silver beard and mustache, the old man liked to be tugged out from in front of his television set and reassured that he was still needed.
Pops approached the door and knocked while I stood back. No sense in scaring the poor girl with two gruff bikers on her step. A mouse of a girl answered. She had to be younger than Bull, couldn’t have been more than five feet tall and weighed less than a buck. Keeping her hand on the door, and her footing light like she was ready to bolt, she eyed Pops warily.
“Uh… hello?”
“Hi. You must be Candice. I’m Jake.” He flashed her a disarming, helpless-old-man type smile. “I’m here with my boy Link to offer you the services of our club full of military vets who like to help people like yourself who’ve been wronged.”
He handed her a business card.
She flipped it over a couple of times before asking, “How have I been wronged?”
“I have a daughter probably ten years older than you. She’s currently a helicopter pilot for the Air Force, but she got her education out of the way before she enlisted so she could go in as an officer. She wanted to go to U-dub for her degree, but it was so damn expensive she ended up at Eastern. From what I understand, you had a full ride scholarship at U-dub and a promising career in engineering until some asshole took advantage of you at a party. You’re tough and you tried to fight back, but then his daddy strong-armed you into withdrawing your accusation and dropping out. Now, you’re waiting tables at night while that asshole is out there preying on more girls.”
Her brows drew together, and her expression fell. “There are others?”
Pops nodded, his features softening. “One that we know of, but I’m sure there are more. One of our club members caught the little pervert in the act and sent him to the hospital.”
Her eyes widened, and she let out a laugh before covering her mouth. “That’s why Noah’s in the hospital?”
Pops gave her a proud smile. “Yes, ma’am. Our club doesn’t put up with that shit. Noah will be pissin’ blood for a while. Unfortunately, the ordeal landed our friend in the slammer. We’re working to get him out and expose this little shithead for the predator he is. We want you to get you your life back, but we need your help. Can we come in and tell you about our plan to make Noah Kinlan pay?” he asked.
She eyed us both one more time. Uncertainty twisted her expression, then something awesome happened. That little five-foot-nothing girl stood straighter and a level of steel-hard determination filled her eyes.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “That asshole needs to pay.”
As we followed Candice into her living room, she called her parents. They rushed home to join the discussion, and I felt confident Noah would pay for what he’d done. The bravery of people like Havoc, Candice, and Emily would make sure he did.
