There’s an older man behind the counter, and he folds up his newspaper and stands when he sees me enter.
“Good evening, you lookin’ for a room?”
“Maybe later. Right now I’m looking for someone, a woman. Mid-twenties with long black hair and pale skin.” I try not to show my nerves, but realizing I literally know nothing else about her appearance, not even her height, makes this feel like a fool's errand.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her.”
“You have?” I ask in shock, not really expecting this wild goose chase to end with finding her.
“Yeah, sweet girl. She’s been here all week. She’s not here right now, though. She left a few hours ago.”
“Do you know where she went?”
He stares at me for a moment, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for. “You here to help her?”
“Yes,” I answer instantly on alert, leaning on the counter as if being closer to him will get the answers I crave faster.
“Normally I wouldn’t share a young girl’s whereabouts, but she was headed to the Gravel and Grit; that’s a biker bar on the outskirts of town.”
A biker bar? What the hell is she doing there?
“I warned her it could be dangerous but she insisted she had business there and wouldn’t be long.”
“Thank you,” I say with a nod before turning to the door.
“Wait!” he calls, and I turn back toward him, even though every part of me is screaming to get to Wren as soon as possible. “The bar is owned by the local biker gang, the Iron Reapers. Their compound is located out on Old East Road, between the fourth and fifth concession. But you didn’t hear that from me."
“Why are you telling me?”
“That girl was sweet. Much too sweet for a bunch of bikers. And if the stories about them are true, then she might be in trouble.”
I throw a thanks over my shoulder as I shove the door open and run back to the SUV.
“What’s wrong?” Dex asks, seeing my panic as I yank open the driver's door.
“Get in! She’s in trouble.”
Everyone climbs in and Pete sits beside me as I tell him, “Program in the Gravel and Grit, it’s a bar.”
He presses a few buttons, and it feels like it takes way too long before the nav pings, telling us to turn right out of the parking lot.
“What’s going on, Sly?” Pete asks, looking between me and the road.
“It’s a biker bar. He implied they have a bad reputation and that she could be in trouble. He told me where the Iron Reaper's compound is, too.”
“So he’s seen her?” Dex asks in shock from where he and Jagger are seated behind us.
I nod. “Yes.”
“How do we know it’s her?”
“He said she was sweet, that she’s been here for a few days.”
Everyone’s quiet for a moment before Dex speaks. “It could be her.”
“It is,” I say with a nod. “I can feel it. We’re getting close.”
“If anyone has laid a finger on her, I’ll slice their hands off and shove them down their throats,” Pete says, palming his shiv.
