“I’ve got his address. No one in the restaurant saw him after seven last night.”
Cole looks at me. “Which is just after he realized Heather saw him stealing?”
“Yeah,” I confirm. “She said it sounded just like his voice, and he wore the same cologne.”
“Son-of-a-bitch. Okay, let’s go find this motherfucker.” Cole bangs the gavel, and we all troop down the hall.
Most of our crew heads out the door, but I make a beeline for the bar and pull Heather to me, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. You should get some sleep.”
“Where are you going?” she asks, gripping my arm.
I can’t tell her and instead meet the prospect’s eyes behind the bar. “Stay alert, prospect.”
“Yes, sir.”
Crash whistles from the door at another prospect. “Come lock the gate behind us.”
When I reach my bike, I overhear Wolf talking to Cole.
“The tracker shows they’re heading north now on I15.”
“Into Vegas?” Cole frowns.
“Looks that way.”
Cole points at Wolf. “You and Cajun stay back and watch the clubhouse. Call Daytona and share the location specifics. I need him to get eyes on them. Go.”
Wolf and Cajun jog back to the clubhouse.
As we ride out, I feel better knowing it's more than prospects here to keep Heather safe. Some of the other ol’ ladies are on their way. TJ called Gigi asking if she could come and stay with Heather. I know my girl is in good hands.
Now, I can just focus on makingRay fucking Callahanbleed.
Twenty minutes later, we roll up at his house. It’s a small duplex on the east side. The place looks dark and quiet.
Billy bangs a fist on the door, and when we get no answer, Cole gives a nod, and he boots it in. Reckless and Shine are at his back with weapons drawn as we cross the threshold. They check every room.
“It’s clear. No sign of him,” Shine barks.
Reckless comes out of the bedroom. “Looks like he left in a hurry. Drawers are pulled out and clothes are scattered.
Cole kicks a chair over. “We need to find this motherfucker. Now!”
Crash pulls his phone out. “I’ll find out from the last owner everything he knows about the guy.” He stalks outside.
Ten minutes later, he returns. “Says his mother lives in LA, and he had a girlfriend who worked for Corleone’s.”
“The Italian place on Fourth Ave?” Cole frowns.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.”
We roll across town to Corleone’s, and Cole and Crash go inside. Five minutes later, a waitress comes out the back door with them.
“Tell us about Ray.” Cole crosses his arms, his boots spread.
“What about him?”
