“You can just tell him that we want to talk to him,” Hockley said. “No details needed. I’ll leave you a card.”
The biker grinned. “Oh, detailswillbe needed. If you want to have a prayer of Mikey getting in touch with you, he’ll want to know why you’re interested.”
“Ongoing investigation,” Hockley bit out. He frowned, scanning the men in front of him. “Is one of you Scott Hawk?”
“We could get a message to him too,” Mike said. His smile was nothing but polite. “You could leavetwocards.”
“And then you should sit by the phone, waiting for them to call,” another biker said.
Jericho wondered what effect his own presence was having on this interaction. It was probably making the bikers more playful; they liked the clear antagonism between himself and the feds. And he was pretty sure it was making Hockley more aggressive. More frustrated. He wasn’t just appearing ineffective, he was doing it in front of Jericho, and that had to sting.
So Jericho wasn’t totally surprised when Hockley growled, “I’d like to see some ID, please. From all of you.”
The bikers didn’t move. Jericho should have kept his mouth shut, of course, but instead he took a half step forward and reached for his wallet. “I’ve got my license right here—”
“Shut up, Crewe,” Hockley said with a disgusted scowl. He turned back to the bikers. “I’d like to see ID from those of you I don’t already know.”
“I’d like a pony,” Mike said calmly. “You get me a pony, we’ll talk about showing you ID.”
Hockley took a deep breath and exhaled it forcefully. Jericho felt like dragging the agent around the corner and yelling at him. Did he notknowthe Montana laws, or had he honestly believed he was going to be able to bluff these men? The law said he could ask for ID, but they had no obligation to provide it. And Hockley had thought members of a criminal organization wouldn’t know that?
The agent squinted at Jericho. “You’re going to be answering some questions for me, Crewe.”
“Well, as we’ve just seen, you have the right toaskquestions, Agent Hockley. I think you might be jumping to conclusions on theansweringpart.”
Hockley shook his head and snarled, “Get in the car. We’ll talk on the way to the station.”
Jericho reacted without hesitation. “No, thanks. Why don’t we talk tomorrow? You can catch me up on all the interesting news.”
Another snort, more narrowed eyes, and then Hockley turned to Montgomery. “We should get out of here. We have somerealpolice work to do.” And that was it. They climbed back into the car.
Jericho stared at them. His reactionhadbeen instinctive. He didn’t respond well to authority, and definitely didn’t respond well to Hockley. And the bastard knew all that. Was Hockley really that stupid, or was something else going on?
“They’re as much of a pain in your ass as they are in ours,” Mike commented as the agents’ sedan backed out.
“More,” Jericho replied. He needed to think about all this, but there was no point in blowing things with the bikers. “I have to deal with the fuckers every damn day.”
“But they aren’t trying toarrestyou.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Jericho shrugged his dismissal. “But whatever. They’re not the only police in town. I just wanted to come by and check in. Like I said, I’m not too worried about what locals are getting up to, but I don’t like hearing about out-of-towners sniffing around, looking for trouble.”
“The kind of trouble those Chicago boys found?” one of the bikers said proudly. “I don’t think we need to worry about them anymore.”
“Not those three, no. But usually— You guys know all this. Usually guys like that have someone behind them, backing them up. So the problem might not be solved quite yet.” And themurderscertainly weren’t solved, but he didn’t think he’d make a big deal about that, not with his current audience. “My salary is paid by the people of Mosely County, Montana. That’s who I plan to serve and protect. So if the people of Mosely are having trouble with outsiders? I’d like to know about that.” He waited for a moment, then smiled at Mike. “Say hi to your family for me, will you?”
“Yeah,” Mike said, stepping forward and extending a hand. “My uncle especially, maybe?”
“Whoever you think.” Jericho nodded to the other men and headed for the Mustang. Good choice to have come in plain clothes and his own car, that was for sure. But if he was going to get anywhere with the bikers, it wouldn’t be because he’d dressed down for the visit. No, it would be because Hockley had shown up and displayed his usual contempt.
He mused over that for the short ride home, but when he saw the pickup parked in front of his building, his mind emptied of everything else. Wade. Not in the truck, but around. Jericho found his own parking space and started toward the front door. Wade was there. And even while his brain shouted warnings, his body moved forward.
