Buried Biker (17 page)

Grabbing a free real estate catalog from a pile on the front windowsill, I sat down and started flipping through the pages. Houses for sale. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Even little shacky-looking houses were in the six digit category.
How could anyone ever afford to buy a house?

No wonder Kelly was trying so hard to hang onto the house she and her ex had bought when they were married. If she lost it, she’d never be able to afford another one.

Kelly. The familiar pang shot through my gut. Maybe Li’l Mama had been to see her, or talked to somebody who had. She had a much better chance of finding out something than I did.
Would she tell me if I asked?

She might. But I’d have to tell her who I was if I wanted her to even consider talking to me. She’d go back and tell everybody all about it, maybe spread some more rumors. And I might not even find out anything useful.

I watched as she crammed clothes in the washing machines. Way more than the instructions said. She inserted quarters into the slots and dumped in detergent without measuring it. Then she kicked off her boots and sank down in a chair a near me.

What did I really have to lose if I asked about Kelly?

I got up to switch my clothes to the dryers and sat back down again. Licking my lips, I said, “You hear how Kelly’s doing?”

She sat up straight and stared at me. “What’s it to you?”

I shrugged. “Just wondered, is all.”

“Who are
you
?”

Maybe I could get away without giving my name. “Just somebody who works with her.”

“At that steel factory?”

“Yeah.”

She fiddled with her earring, which sported a chain that hung halfway to her shoulder. “You wouldn’t be
Jesse
by any chance, would you?”

No point lying. “Yeah.”

“Wow. Kelly’s pretty mad at you, you know.”

I nodded.

“But Black Rose, she’s talking you up good.”

“Black Rose?” The one Old Buckles thought I’d screwed. He just wasn’t sure whether I’d also told Razorback he could have a go at Kelly. She’d also gone with Li’l Mama to see Kelly at the hospital.

“You know. Razorback’s old lady.”

I nodded. That much I knew. “What’s she saying?”

“She’s saying if Razorback don’t show up again soon, she’s gonna hook up with you.”

Not if I had anything to do with it. “I don’t imagine Razorback thinks too much of that idea. Anybody seen him lately?”

She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“He’s made himself pretty scarce since everybody’s mad at him for what he did to Kelly. And since he’s on the sex offender registry, he’s in trouble for not reporting a change of address. Old Buckles is gonna give him what for. If he don’t get locked up first. They’re looking for him.”

“I’d heard that. But I didn’t think he’d be gone for long. I mean, he’s got a business to run and all, don’t he?”

Li’l Mama shifted on the seat and made a snorting noise. “Yeah, well. It’s mostly Black Rose runs the business. Me and Funky Joe been trying to help her. It’s much easier to load the backhoe on the trailer with two people. Joe tries to get to wherever she’s working and help her. But he’s working that construction job at the bridge site along with most of the guys, so if she’s got to move it during the day, she has to do it herself.”

“The same place Old Buckles’ working?”

“Yeah. Some guy he knows, construction foreman out there, he needed a crew fast and he let Old Buckles bring a whole bunch of the guys for day jobs out there. Sorry state of affairs when the guy who’s just out of prison is the one finding jobs for everybody else. And I been trying to take the phone messages and schedule work for her.”

“Lots of work now?”

“Yeah, especially out in the neighborhood by that bridge. They put in new sewer mains and everybody’s got to hook up. To do that, they need a trench dug.”

“So if Razorback doesn’t show up, the business’ll be okay?”

“Probably. The club’ll help out if she needs it. They use a big garage on the property for a clubhouse, so they’d chip in for the mortgage.”

“If they got that clubhouse, how come everybody’s been spending so much time at Kelly’s place in town?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Old Buckles been staying mostly in town. While he was locked up, some of the guys got into some stuff he’s not real happy about. So there’s a lot going on at the clubhouse right now. He thinks they’re maybe keeping a close eye on him since he just got released, and he don’t want to call attention to none of it. So he’s been keeping away.”

“And Razorback’s not staying up there now, either?”

“Nope. The cops are looking to lock him up. They came up nosing around, but they didn’t have a search warrant, and no probable cause, so they left.”

“So where has Razorback gone?”

“Don’t nobody know. Black Rose says she’s got all his stuff. He didn’t even take his chopper.”

I’d heard that. And it didn’t sound good. The bikers I knew didn’t much care if the cops stopped them. In fact, they got a kick out of it and sometimes encouraged it. But I guess not if they were registered sex offenders who were wanted on new rape charges.

“He prob’ly figured it was too noticeable,” she continued. “It’s bright purple, and he’s got it really chromed up. Cops’d pick it right up if he tried to take off on it.”

I tried to get her back to my main topic of interest. “So is Kelly gonna be okay?”

“Should be. No broken bones that I know of. But she might have to go to a rehab for her shoulder.”

That was bad enough. “No head injury?” I asked.

“Well, a concussion. She was knocked out, which is why somebody called 9-1-1. Thought she might be really hurt.”

“When’ll she get out of the hospital?”

“Might be at the rehab already. But she’s not supposed to go back to work for another week or something.”

“That’s okay. The whole place is shut down for retooling next week. We all get one of our vacation weeks.” Even I would get paid, since I was now off the probationary period and a full-fledged union member.

“Oh. You gonna go to the rehab to see her?”

“I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“You may be right. She says she ain’t never gonna let you touch her again.”

I was afraid that might be the truth. Of course if she were raped, she was pretty traumatized. Maybe she wouldn’t want sex for a while. If she trusted me, I was sure we could work that out.

But as it was, she didn’t trust me. And if she didn’t trust me, I didn’t see much future for us.

“Black Rose says if she don’t take you back, she’s missing out on a good thing.”

“Exactly what does Black Rose say?”

Li’l Mama leaned toward me and smiled. “Black Rose says you’re welcome back in
her
bed anytime.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

She winked. “She
said
you’d be a gentleman about it. Not gonna go bragging and such. And you ain’t rough and tumble like most of the guys. They want what they want when they want it and a girl’d just better relax and get what she can out of it. But she says you take your time and make sure the girl’s liking it too.”

I felt heat rising to my face. I had almost no sexual experience—none with anybody but Kelly—and here was this experienced biker chick telling everybody what my sex life was like. And she may have hit the nail on the head.

She laughed. “Black Rose sure got the better of that deal. She got a good time, and poor Kelly got the crap beat out of her.”

“I don’t know where Black Rose got that. There was no deal.”

“That’s what you say now that it’s gone bad. You and Black Rose got your jollies, but Kelly wasn’t too happy with the arrangement. She said you never even told her, and she hadn’t agreed. So she didn’t want to follow through. She’d been drinking and Razorback was high, so he got mad and took what he wanted anyhow. He’s got a history of that.”

I gripped the real estate catalog so hard my hands ached. “He had no right to do that to her.”

“It sure did create a real mess. Black Rose says he should have backed off and could have worked it out with you. But she’s glad she got hers first. Said getting it on with you was an experience she’d never forget.”

I could just imagine the response I’d get if Li’l Mama saw me blush. She’d think it was hilarious and wouldn’t stop until she’d told everyone she could. I got up to check my laundry. It wasn’t dry yet. My gut churning, I went back and sat down.

Li’l Mama smirked at me and raised one eyebrow. The one with the big gold ring through it. “You know, Funky Joe’s my old man. You wanna make some kind of arrangement with him, I got no problem with it. Not after what Black Rose says about you. Maybe drugs or something. Even cash. But I think you’d just better leave Kelly out of it.”

“Funky Joe’s not real happy with me right now,” I said.

“He’ll get over it.” Li’l Mama tossed her head, reminding me of Carissa. “Men don’t tend to sweat how anybody feels about crap like that.”

Except maybe for me. I cared about how Kelly felt about me. I cared a lot. I might never be able to figure out what happened to her—to
us
, really, if there’d ever really been an “us” outside of my daydreams—but I definitely cared.

Chapter 10

T
HURSDAY
M
ORNING
W
AS
M
Y
R
EGULAR
A
PPOINTMENT
with Mr. Ramirez, my parole officer. In general, the appointments made me nervous—here was a man who could send me back to prison with his signature on a piece of paper—I sure wasn’t looking forward to what he would have to say about what had happened over the last week.

Right after work, I headed over there. As I walked, I tried to figure out some way to put a positive spin on the last week. Or at least not quite such a negative one. I didn’t come up with any ideas. Even to me, any way I tried to explain it sounded like I’d gotten mixed up in a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have.
Again
.

So far, Mr. Ramirez had been pretty reasonable and even supportive of me. As he put it, he wanted people on parole out working and paying taxes, so he could retire one day and collect his Social Security. But he had a limited tolerance for someone who kept getting in new trouble. Even if I didn’t pick up new charges, he still had the power to put me back on house arrest. Or lock me back up for a long time.

Trouble just seemed to find me. I didn’t know if it would get better after I’d been out on the street for a while, but right now it seemed like I couldn’t keep my nose clean no matter how hard I tried. Belkins and Montgomery weren’t much help, but I seemed to be able to manage to find problems all on my own. And now here I was on my way to see my parole officer with no good way to explain away how I’d gotten locked up over the weekend or why I was hanging out with bikers.

The parole office was in the basement of the county building, which also housed the jail, police headquarters, and a courthouse. Convenient enough that the cops often didn’t bother to go out and look for a parolee with a retake warrant. All they had to do was ask the receptionist to call upstairs when whoever they wanted showed up for an appointment.

The waiting room was overheated and damp with moisture condensing on the grimy windows set high in the walls. I signed in on the clipboard on the ledge outside the window to the unoccupied receptionist’s desk. Then I wiped a seat in the corner dry with my jacket and sat down to wait. At this early hour, the room was empty.

The outer door opened, and someone else came in. He was thin and tall, but he walked hunched over, which made him look shorter than he was. He staggered over to sign in, then lurched over to a chair in the far corner and promptly closed his eyes. I kept a wary eye on him.

“Jesse Damon?” A woman with big hair and a bigger bosom had appeared form down the hallway and picked up the clipboard and called me surprisingly quickly. My heart sank, and I tried to look past her to see if a couple of burly cops with handcuffs were behind her at the window. I didn’t see anyone, but they might be trying to remain out of sight. Not a whole hell of a lot I could do about it anyhow. She had a bored expression on her face and was chewing a wad of gum.

I got to my feet and went up to the window. She opened the door next to it and indicated a chair by her desk.

“Got your fee?” she asked.

Of course they’d want their money. “Yes, ma’am.” I took out my wallet. The costs of parole supervision took a big chunk out of my not quite adequate paychecks. At least I was no longer on house arrest and paying those fees, too.

She took the money and typed something in on the computer. “Urinalysis fee?” she asked.