“So, where is it? Could it help us now?” Gage asks.
Eli grins, proud of his subterfuge, forgetting for a moment that his sister is still missing. “It’s right here,” he says, tapping the back of the gravestone. We head around the back to look, peering closely.
I glower at him. “Is this some sort of joke? I don’t see anything.”
“I know, but watch this,” Eli says, pulling out his phone and turning on the camera flash. It immediately reveals code hidden amongst the pattern on the stone. It starts downloading, and Eli explains. “It’s a type of QR software, only more advanced. I created it myself. I also set this one up to send the information to the cops should anyone try to download it. Chopper was meant to essentially turn himself in when he found it. I should have known he was too stupid to figure it out,” he says ruefully. “There’s even a clue engraved on the front of the tombstone, ‘See you on the other side’, get it?” he asks, incredulous that no one worked it out.
Eli is a genius, but sometimes too smart for his own good. Relying on an idiot like Chopper or a terrified, panicked Naomi to solve a riddle in the heat of the moment was a stupid idea.
While we’ve been talking, Cash has walked away from us, inspecting footprints in the mud and the spade. “I think someone was hit with this; there’s blood on it,” he says grimly, pointing out a small amount of blood not yet washed away by the rain on the end of the shovel.
“Shit! Naomi could be lying injured somewhere while we’ve been wasting time chatting in riddles,” I snarl, stalking away in the direction of the footprints. Further inspection reveals three sets, one large set, unmistakably male, and two smaller sets. One I’m assuming is Naomi. The other is probably Cherri if we’re right about her involvement. “I’ll go this way,” I bark, starting in the direction of the prints leading into the darkness. “You two follow those,” I order Cash and Gage.
“What should I do?” Eli asks. I ignore him, stomping away. He’s done enough and would only get in the way. Still, he trails behind like a whipped dog.
It doesn’t take long for the paths of the footprints to coalesce. “Is it just me, or does it look like Chopper is limping?” Gage asks, pointing out the large gaps and slight drag of one foot in the bigger footprints.
If he is, that’s a good thing. It means he’s injured. For the first time, I feel hope that Naomi is okay, that the blood on the shovel isn’t hers. I remind myself how tough she is. I notice Naomi’s footprints suddenly come to a stop at the gravel floor in the area where the mausoleums are.
Atta girl, I think,there’s my smart cookie. She stands a better chance of hiding from them in here.
All of a sudden, the shrill sound of Cherri’s voice whips through the night like a buzzard. “Where the fuck are you, bitch?”
I grin at my brothers. Cherri has given away her location and that Naomi is, at least to her knowledge, alive and hiding. This is the best news we could have hoped for. With newfound determination, we head in the direction of Cherri’s voice. We find her moments later, leaning against a mausoleum, staying dry and lighting a cigarette under the shelter it provides. She’s clearly gotten bored with their little game of hide and seek. I motion for the others to stay still and creep up behind her. She doesn’t hear my approach until I’m right beside her, cocking my gun in her ear. She freezes, eyes wide in shock as she glances without moving her head at the muzzle of the weapon.
“Don’t fucking move a muscle,” I hiss.
“Ace,” she says, the word coming out in a soft, loving exhale. A sound I once loved but now abhor.
“Where are they?” I ask, moving to stand before her, weapon still trained on her.
She shakes her head, stammering as she replies. “I don’t know. Naomi hit Chopper with the shovel and ran. We split up to look for her once we lost track of her footprints. Please, he made me—”
“Save it,” I snarl. I can’t bear to hear Cherri’s pathetic excuses and lies. I might not be able to control myself, and I need her right now. I grab her wrist, yanking her toward me to hold her in front of me, my gun pointed at her head. “Call out to Chopper and tell him you’ve found her.”
“Ace, it won’t work. He’ll know you won’t hurt me,” Cherri pleads, shaking.
“Your tricks won’t work on me anymore, Cherri.” My heart has turned to stone against her. “And don’t be so sure Iwon’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Naomi safe. Now, call out and tell him to come here.”
She must hear from my voice how serious I am. Trembling, she takes a deep breath and shouts, “Chopper, baby, I got her! Come here!” Her voice rings out clear and convincing. For once, her manipulative nature and her brilliance as an actress pay off.
Chopper doesn’t reply, but soon, I think I can hear the thud of his footsteps approaching. However, when he steps into view, my heart plummets. “Well, ain’t that funny, because so have I,” he says triumphantly. Struggling in his grip, one meaty palm against her mouth to stop her from crying out, is Naomi. “Nice try, Ace.” He grins at me. Naomi’s eyes are wild with fear as she struggles fruitlessly. Despite his bleeding head wound, swollen face, and slurred voice from the blow of Naomi’s shovel to his face, Naomi is still no match for him. He’s a mountain of a man compared to her. If he wasn’t injured, she’d probably be dead already.
“Let her go, Chopper, it’s over,” I say, trying to convey to Naomi that I’m here. That I love her, and it’s going to be alright.
Chopper smiles, a lopsided grimace that makes me wonder how he’s still standing based on how badly injured he is. “It ain’t over until I say it is. And we both know you ain’t gonna shoot Cherri. Everyone knows the Road Renegades are a bunch of pussies.”
“Wanna bet?” I reply coolly. “In a choice between Naomi and anyone else, I’ll always choose Naomi.”
Chopper chuckles delightedly, stage-whispering into Naomi’s ear, loud enough for me to hear. “Wow, you Moorewomen really must have magical pussies. I can’t wait to fuck you like I fucked your mom.”
I tense at the words as Naomi flinches. Either he’s toying with her emotions, or our suspicions we’ve had for years are correct, and the Rusted Scythes were behind Mac and Cheryl’s murders. I try to bite back my rage and remain calm. Losing my temper won’t help us now.
“Let her go, I’m not fucking around, Chopper.” I press the gun against Cherri’s temple, gripping her tighter, and she whimpers.
“Baby, please,” she moans, looking helplessly at Chopper.
Chopper rolls his eyes. He waves his gun around as he gestures exasperatedly. “I can see why you dumped that one, always whining, am I right?” he says conspiratorially with a wink that makes him look even more grotesque. I wonder if I have enough time to incapacitate him, but the muzzle returns to Naomi quicker than I can react. I see movement behind Chopper, and I’m hopeful that if I can stop Chopper from doing anything stupid for just a little longer, they can incapacitate him while he’s distracted.
