I grab my beer with thanks and head to my office. Unlike other clubs, I don’t have an office in the room we use for church. Church is for equals; my office is where I’m president.
Ridge is waiting in the chair on the other side of my desk. “Think I might have a wild card guess at who the woman is who ratted on Jackal, and I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”
“You’ve got my attention.”
Ridge winces before he answers, “I think it’s Maren Caldwell.”
I almost choke on beer. “Maren? How the hell has she gotten wrapped up in all this?” It’s hard not to think about our run-in the previous night. How those earrings of hers glistened against her lobes. How she studied me like she could see right through to the marrow of my bones.
And speaking of bones, I’m getting a hard-on just thinking about the way all that hair danced around her face in the breeze. So I take another sip of beer. It’s ice cold against my parchedthroat. “Fuck. I knew you’d figure it out, brother. What makes you think it’s her?”
“I’d love to take credit, but it’s all a coincidence. Right time, right place. Sunny and I went to get ice to stock up the bar. Two men were in her face at her counter, and I’ve seen Maren enough to know she wasn’t comfortable with what she was dealing with.”
“Were they threatening her?”
Ridge shrugs. “Couldn’t make out a lot of what was being said. And like I said, they were already there when we arrived, so we missed most of it. But when she looked up and saw us, the one thing I wasn’t expecting to see was a look of relief on her face. Because since when has she been relieved to see any of us?”
“So, what makes you think it’s about Jackal?”
Ridge relaxes into the chair, jutting one leg out in front of him while resting an elbow on the chair arm. “To distract her, I told her they were low on ice. Gave Sunny time to move down the shelves to be closer without her noticing. He heard her say that she didn’t know Jackal, didn’t know where he was, and didn’t know some other man they were asking about. One of the guys asked her if she was protecting us, and Maren said she wasn’t protecting anyone.”
I think about what my road captain just told me.
Maren said she wasn’t protecting anyone.
“But it sounds like she denied knowing Jackal despite the fact Iknowhe only ever bought his bait from her,” I say. “So, whatever she thought was going on, shewasprotecting Jackal.”
“True. And even if she was lying, how the hell would Maren know where Jackal was?”
“It’s not a complete picture, but it’s the first sniff of a lead we’ve had. And regardless of Maren’s role in all this, I don’t like that there are two men we don’t know asking about the club. Given we don’t know the reason they’re looking for Jackal, weshould find out where they’re staying and watch them until we know what they’re here for.”
Ridge stands. “You want me to work with Havoc to bring them in?”
“Yeah. But no one goes too far with the hurricane coming. No risks with any lives.”
“You want me to go back and question Maren?” Ridge asks. “I gave her a warning to be careful of what she was getting mixed up in, but I could go back and try to fill in what we might have missed.”
Ridge should be the one to go. In the process of finding the leak, I haven’t questioned a single woman; I took the men. The women were divided up, and Sunny, Ridge, North, or Havoc questioned them. “No. I’ll take care of Maren Caldwell. Because of who her father is, it could put a spotlight on us we don’t really want.”
Plus, I need to see her again and remind myself why I don’t like the woman. Even if she didn’t share information intentionally, she’s still part of the reason Paltrow became an issue for Jackal.
If Ridge doesn’t believe me, he doesn’t show it. “I’ll leave you to it, boss.”
I look up at him as he heads for the door. “Good work, Ridge. Coincidence or not, it’s just the kind of lead we needed.”
The beer glass sits heavy in my hand, and I sigh as my plans—which involved a hot shower, followed by some more alcohol, and perhaps a bit of fun with one of the club girls—evaporate.
But they’re replaced with a shimmer of…excitement…that I get to question Maren.
As I walk out of the clubhouse, the light rain lashes at me sharply. But there’s something about the power of a storm, the raw energy, that makes me feel alive. When we were kids, Drew and I used to play a game called “Hurricane” where we’d pretendto shelter in self-made dens. Mom would lose her mind when we snuck out during a Category One, just to see how windy it felt.
Mom thought I was gonna be one of those twister chasers when I was a kid. I loved the way the air spun and sucked everything in around it. Wild weather has never scared me, and I don’t intend to let it now.
It’s a ten-minute ride over to the bait shop, and I’m relieved to find no one else is there. Maren is out on the dock, walking to the only airboat still tied there.
“Maren,” I shout as I get closer.
When she looks over, there’s that spark of interest again, which she buries almost as quickly as it fires. It’s so fast, I almost think I imagined it, but then, she clocks it really is me and her spine straightens.
