“I know. Anyway, it’s all water under the bridge.” Mitch tossed his empty cup into the garbage bin, ignoring the brief flash of guilt as he thought of his conversation with Lana. But recycling in this apartment wasn’t an option, and the bin wouldhave to do. “Back to the case. I have no idea how to get Pete alone. I’m hoping he’ll call me. Rocky has me driving Finn around. He lives near the base of the mountains, so it’s a long trip both ways. I’ll have to leave here by 5:00 a.m. to get to his place at seven and back to the city by nine. Then same again in the afternoon—hours and hours spent in the car. I’m hoping the time spent at the showroomand workshop will give me the opportunity to see Rocky and Pete and that I’ll get invited to hang out with them. But that won’t be happening if Finn wants to go straight home. All I’ll get to see is the inside of that damn Range Rover.”
“Why doesn’t he live closer to the city?”
“Once again, I’m not sure. I don’t know if it’s because he has some sentimental attachment to the house he grew upin or he just doesn’t want to live too close to Rocky, but I’d put my money on it being the latter. The farther away he is, the harder it is for Rocky to see him.”
“Anyway, thanks for meeting me late. I know it’s a pain after the long day. Is there anything else we need to go over?”
They spent the next hour or so reviewing case files. There wasn’t too much new information, and Mitch resignedhimself to getting immersed in his new job and living undercover for a while. Things were still moving too slowly, and he hoped for a quick breakthrough.
THE NEXTfew days crawled by, each day with the same routine. Mitch would leave at the arse-crack of dawn to head to Finn’s house. Finn would be ready and waiting. They’d drive into town, where Finn would spend the day holed up in hisoffice, meeting with Rocky’s business managers and Rocky himself. At first Mitch tried to make himself as invisible as possible, figuring if he blended into the surroundings, he’d be able to observe more effectively—people would be more likely to talk if they figured they weren’t being overheard. By day three he decided he was better off trying to make himself indispensable so that Rocky would seehis value and get him involved.
The brick wall was warm against Mitch’s back, the heat seeping through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. The sunglasses kept the glare from his eyes, and he dragged on his cigarette as he surveyed the area. Customers came and went, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A glance at his watch showed it was nearly 3:00 p.m.—only another hour or two, and Finn wouldbe finishing up for the day.
He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. The hours spent with Finn driving to and from the house on the outskirts of Sydney were the best of his day. What started out with the potential to be endlessly boring had become the highlight of his day. Finn had been surly during the first trip, but since then he’d relaxed, probably because Mitch largely avoided the topicof Rocky. And a less tense Finn was turning out to be interesting to be around. He was nothing like Mitch would have expected, given his upbringing—in fact, Finn had fallen so far from the tree it was hard to believe he and Rocky had grown up in the same house. Finn was intelligent and opinionated, as evidenced by their long discussions on current affairs, and had a broad range of interests. Thankgoodness because those discussions made the time fly by. It was a shame Mitch only had his own company on the equally long return trip.
A low rumble drew Mitch’s attention, and he stiffened as Rocky cruised into the car park area, closely followed by two other growling Harley-Davidsons. This could be his opportunity. He hadn’t seen Rocky for a couple of days, although surveillance was keepingtrack of his movements, and hadn’t had any contact from Pete. He didn’t want to push things. However, he was only going to give Pete another day or two before chasing him down. The relief was immediate as the two bikes parked next to Rocky and the men took their helmets off. Pete ran a hand through his flattened hair and glanced around. The third guy placed his helmet on the back of his bike, thenapproached Rocky.
Mitch hadn’t seen the tall blond guy before. He ground the cigarette butt under his heel as he pulled his iPhone from his pocket. He took a couple of discreet photos before tapping on the screen. Ross could get one of the team to run a check.
Pete looked his way, and their eyes met across the expanse of concrete. He spoke a few words to Rocky and then turned Mitch’s way. Mitchraised a hand in greeting but stayed where he was, leaning back against the wall—casual, uninterested, not wanting to appear too eager and draw unwanted attention. Rocky gave a parting glance over his shoulder as he and the blond guy headed to the workshop. Pete approached, although he looked like he was walking to the gallows.
Jesus, he looked terrible close up. Even thinner than before, withdark shadows under his eyes and a gaze that kept dancing around. When he finally stood in front of Mitch, he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and stared at the ground.
Mitch couldn’t help it: he reached out and grasped his shoulder. “Are you okay, Pete?” He could feel the firmness of Pete’s collarbone under his thumb and the gentle tremor. “Fuck, Pete. What are you doing to yourself?”he said quietly under his breath.
Pete lifted his eyes up at the whispered words, but he didn’t respond. Instead his lips were pursed, and his glare was like a challenge, as if he were daring Mitch to say more. Mitch took a deep breath and dropped his hand—there was no point pursuing that line of discussion; it hadn’t worked in the past, and it wasn’t going to work now. Plus he had a job to do.
“I haven’t heard from you,” Mitch stated. “I thought you were going to call.”
“I couldn’t. Rocky’s had me on a short leash.” Pete darted his gaze to the workshop, but Rocky wasn’t anywhere in sight. “There’s some shit going down, dangerous stuff.”
“Is this to do with the Brutes? Russell Hutchins?”
“How’d you know about—oh.” Mitch could tell the moment Pete’s shock changed to disbelief. “Hisbody’s been found?”
“In a factory out by the airport.”
“Fuck!” Pete hissed. “Rocky’s going to be pissed.”
“What did he think had happened to Hutchins?”
“Wasn’t sure.” Pete shrugged. “Thought the guy had just disappeared for a while, maybe gone on a bender. The guy’s been known to get stuck into the drink. Although after this amount of time, Rocky was starting to get suspicious that somethingmay have been up, plus there have been some rumors. But I thought it was more likely Rabbit was going to patch out.”
“Yeah, well, he did that in a big way.” The image of the bloody raw flesh on Russell Hutchins’s back flashed into Mitch’s mind—that was definitely one way to have your colors taken from you and leave the club.
“What?” Pete tilted his head in obvious confusion.
“Nothing. Go on.”Fuck, he needed to keep his mouth shut and tell Pete as little as possible, not give him bits of information that would have him seeking answers or saying things that could trip him up.
Pete didn’t look comfortable, but he started talking. “Since the clubhouse was shut down and it’s gotten harder to meet, the brothers aren’t happy. I mean, without the brotherhood, what’s left? A motorcycle clubis about the camaraderie, the lifestyle, your brothers. You guys are fucking it over.”
Mitch bristled. “With these clubs, it’s more about the money, not the goddamned brotherhood. You know that, Pete. You’ve been sucked in by the drugs, but you know what they’re capable of, the damage they can do. The lifestyle has nothing to do with mateship.”
Pete had the decency to look ashamed for a moment,but then he raised his head and looked Mitch in the eye. “I do what I have to do. You do the same.”
“They’re violent, Pete—”
“I know that!” Pete glanced over his shoulder, then dropped his voice. “I know what’s going on. I just need to work out the best way to handle things.”
