Midnight Wreckage (Kings of Vengeance MC Book 4) Read online

  “Looking to hire. Though he wasn’t the one who wanted Gunner or Queenie dead.”

  Kaye shoved the paper back into her folder. “They never are. Probably one other person to go through before you get the answer of who actually wanted it done.”

  “I’ve been trying to find that out. Slow going at the moment. I’m thinking the list you gave me is going to get us further.”

  She pulled a card from her pocket. “I understand you want to do this on your own. Just know I won’t let that happen.” She handed Quinn the card and smiled. “In the end, we both want that little boy found.” She walked out the door and pulled it shut behind her.

  “Wow,” Kimber gasped, “so much happened there that I’m going to need a recap to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

  Quinn flipped the card between his fingers. “We’re getting closer to finding Gunner.” He looked down at the card. “And as much as I hate it, Kaye might be just what we need.”

  Dyno raised his hand. “I’m going to need cliff notes. Or maybe more details.”

  “I’ve known Brick a good bit of my life. We used to do odd jobs with each other when they came up,” Quinn explained.

  “Jobs like Core is into?” I asked.

  Quinn shrugged. “Sort of. Nothing like killing and kidnapping, but they weren’t legal. Kaye and Brick wound up together for a bit and shit went south. She flipped on him and he went to prison.” He peered at the card again. “Apparently, she’s moved up since then.”

  “You mean to tell me she was undercover and he was her target?” Fancy asked. “This is like a fucking movie.”

  “What was the news you had before Kaye knocked?” I asked.

  “I’ve already been in contact with Brick. He’s finding out what he can about Duchess and Gunner. The list Kaye just gave me is going to narrow this shit down real quick.”

  “If one of those guys ends up being Gunner’s dad. Or, you could be off on some wild goose chase,” Queenie sighed.

  Quinn shrugged. “Right now, it’s our best lead.”

  “I’m heading back to the clubhouse. You coming with?” Quinn asked Kimber.

  “Are you going to tell me to keep my mouth shut?” she pouted.

  “Babe, ride back with me and I’ll make it up to you.”

  Fancy gagged and rolled her eyes. “Next, you’re going to tell her what she can do with that big mouth of hers.”

  “Fancy,” Kimber scoffed, “how crude.”

  Fancy folded her arms over her chest. “Crude, Kimber? You’re shagging a biker. Crude should be second nature to you by now.”

  Kimber pursed her lips and closed one eye. “You’re probably right.”

  “You wanna go be crude with me, Fancy?” Dyno asked.

  Fancy grabbed the pillow from under her arm and chucked it at Dyno. “Be crude with that. I’ve got my own ride back to the clubhouse, Patty.”

  “Feisty flakes,” Dyno laughed. “You have a couple of bowls this morning, Fan?”

  Fancy jumped up and darted to the front door. “You’re gonna have to catch me to find out.”

  She slipped out the door with Dyno on her tail.

  Quinn grabbed Kimber’s hand and pulled her from the couch. “I’ll let you know what I find out from Brick. Might be a day or so.” They walked out hand in hand and it was just Queenie and me again.

  “Do you ever feel exhausted after you spend some time with them?” she laughed.

  “Now that you mention it, yeah.”

  Queenie fell to the side and sprawled out on the couch. “I want to take a nap and then, I want to go look for Gunner.”

  “Look for Gunner?” I asked.

  She sighed. “Yeah. I know I’m not going to just stumble upon him walking around, but sitting here doing nothing feels like, well, nothing.”

  “I don’t think you should just be walking around all willy-nilly.”

  “Willy-nilly?” Queenie laughed.

  “You know what I mean, sugar. You aren’t going to find Gunner by wandering around.”

  “I know, Sledge. I just need to feel like I’m actually doing something.”

  There wasn’t much for her to do. “What about posters?”

  “Posters?”

  “Yeah. You know, handing out posters with Gunner’s face on them.” Just walking around wasn’t going to do anything, but if we drove around handing out posters to local businesses and asking them to either hang them up or pass them out, it might help.

  “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “‘Cause you got a lot of shit going on right now, Queenie.”

  She jumped up off the couch and raced into her bedroom. She came speeding back out with a computer in her hands. “This thing is years old, but I’m pretty sure it’s good enough to make a poster.” She opened it and pressed the power button. “Should I put on there that there is a reward for any information?”

  “Wouldn’t hurt.” I grabbed my phone and pulled up the fundraising page. “Holy. Fuck.”

  “What is it?” Queenie asked. Her eyes were glued to the progress bar on the screen of her computer.

  “Check this out.” I held the phone in front of her face.

  Her eyes bugged out like a cartoon character and her jaw dropped.

  “That has to be a mistake,” she whispered.

  I refreshed the page and a slightly larger number popped up. “Nah, sugar. I think that’s exactly what it is.”

  “Sledge, that is more money than I will ever see in my life.”

  I wouldn’t go that far, but it was still a pretty hefty amount of money. “Just put that big ass number on the posters, sugar.”

  Two hours later, Queenie had the poster made and we pulled up in front of the local copy shop. “How many did you make?” she asked.

  I had called ahead to find out how to get a mass number of posters produced. Queenie had emailed over the poster file, and I had let them know how many copies to print.

  “Enough.”

  Queenie whipped her head around. “What do you mean enough?”

  “Twenty thousand?”

  “Sweet Jesus, Sledge. That is more than enough.”

  I shrugged and grabbed her hand. I pulled her into the shop. “I didn’t want to run out.” I wanted everyone in town to see Gunner’s face and keep an eye out for him.

  A large cart stood just inside the door loaded with boxes. “Oh, my God, Sledge.” Queenie knelt down by one of the boxes. “I think these are all ours.”

  “You’re here!” A portly man moved from behind the counter. “I just have another thousand to print and you’ll be good to go.”

  “How much do we owe you?” I asked.

  The man waved his hands. “Nothing. Not one single penny. I haven’t donated to the reward money, so this is my way of helping.”

  “You’re crazy,” Queenie gasped. “You can’t give all of these to us.”

  “I can and I just did.” He opened the door we just walked through and held it for us. “You’re gonna have to do some of the loading, though. The copier is getting a little ornery with all of the printing. I’ve been babysitting it to make sure they’re coming out good.”

  I grabbed the handle of the cart and tugged it through the door. “You don’t have to tell us twice.”

  Queenie supervised to the side while I loaded up the boxes of posters into the trunk of her car. By the time I got the last box in, her car was squatting under the weight.

  “Good thing we didn’t get charged for the posters. I’m thinking we’re going to have a flat tire before we get these all delivered,” Queenie laughed.

  I drove to a nearby strip mall and popped the trunk. “You ready to do this?” I asked.

  “Better than sitting at home twiddling my thumbs.” She leaned across the center console and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Let’s go.”

  She jumped out of the car and hopped to the trunk.

  I hadn’t seen Queenie this excited since Gunner was kidnapped. If handing out a few thous
and posters made her happy, then you can bet your ass we were going to be handing out posters until Gunner came home.

  *

  Chapter Ten

  Why not?

  Queenie

  “Act natural.”

  Sledge grabbed a box from the trunk and scowled. “What?”

  I nodded to the news van that had pulled into the parking lot. “I think they’re watching us.”

  Sledge hoisted the box of paper onto his shoulder. “You want me to get rid of them?”

  I shielded my eyes from the sun. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to get a little press out there about Gunner. We still weren’t any closer to finding him, but passing out posters the past two days had given me some sort of sense that I was doing something.

  There had been a few tips called into the police station, but none of them had panned out.

  “What if we just see how it plays out?” I suggested.

  I knew Sledge was right about people being assholes and maybe spinning what happened negatively, but it also might be like the posters. It might help up to actually find Gunner.

  A man and woman jumped from the van and they walked over to Sledge and me.

  “Hi, I’m Deedra Morel. We were wondering if you guys would be interested in doing a little interview and let us follow you around for a bit while you hand out posters?” The woman held out her hand and smiled brightly. “We’ve been following the kidnapping of Gunner Row and want to give our viewers an update. Straight from you.”

  I glanced at Sledge.

  “This is your call, sugar. I’m okay with whatever you want to do.”

  I held out my hand to Deedra. “I’m Queenie Row, and I think that sounds like a great idea.”

  *

  Chapter Eleven

  Some answers…

  Sledge

  “I know someone who was on TV.”

  Queenie rolled her eyes. “It was a forty-five-second little thing, Petra.”

  “But it was good,” Petra insisted. “Like, really good.”

  It had been good. Deedra had interviewed Queenie for about twenty minutes, and then, they followed us around for a couple of hours while we delivered and handed out more fliers. Almost three hours of footage had been boiled down to forty-five seconds.

  Queenie and I were at the clubhouse waiting for Quinn and Dyno to get back from visiting Brick. It had been four days since we started handing out fliers. While we still didn’t have any more leads, Queenie was definitely more upbeat.

  “That was really good. If I wouldn’t have known you as I do, I totally would have felt for you.” Kimber pointed the remote at the TV and turned it off. “If someone didn’t cry during that, then they don’t have a heart.”

  “Amen to that,” Fancy agreed.

  The roar of engines pulled up to the clubhouse.

  Quinn and Dyno were back. Hopefully, that meant they had some good news.

  They walked in, looked at us gathered around the TV, and frowned.

  “Church, now,” Quinn grunted. “Queenie only.”

  “What?” Kimber and Fancy shouted.

  Quinn shook his head. “I don’t want a two-ring circus going on while I try to figure shit out. You three keep your butts out here, and if I hear one little noise from you guys, you’re banned from the clubhouse.”

  “You can’t do that,” Kimber insisted. “We want to help find Gunner, too.”

  Fancy sat forward. “Come on, Quinn. Kimber and I will keep our mouths shut, we swear. And Petra is super smart. Maybe she can help.”

  Kimber wrinkled her nose. “Hey, you and I are smart.”

  Fancy elbowed Kimber. “I know, girl. I’m just trying to talk your biker dude into letting us into church.”

  “There shouldn’t have to be any talking. This is more than club business,” Kimber insisted. “We are total assists.”

  Rhino tipped his head. “Did you say asshats?”

  “Petra,” Fancy growled, “you better get your man.”

  “This,” Quinn boomed, “this is why you three aren’t coming into church. I need some kind of fucking order which isn’t possible when you guys are butting in and saying whatever the hell you want.”

  “He called us asshats,” Kimber pouted.

  Rhino held up his hands. “I heard asshats. I was just trying to clarify.”

  Quinn ran his fingers through his hair. “A fucking circus instead of a motorcycle club.” He stormed off down the hallway. “Get your asses to church, now!”

  Kimber cringed. “Maybe we should just stay here. You know we’ll get all the info once they come out.”

  Fancy flopped back on the couch. “Fine, but just know since we’re doing this now, we’re never going to be let into church.”

  And that would be a good thing.

  “I’ll let you guys know what happens,” Queenie promised.

  “You better, girlfriend.” Kimber grabbed the remote and turned back on the TV. “I bet they’re gonna air the Gunner story again at six. We should watch it again and record it this time.”

  We all filed into church and Queenie sat next to me.

  “You good?” I asked softly.

  She looked up at me, hope in her eyes. “You always ask me that.”

  “Because I can’t ever tell if you are good. You seem good, but I know you’re also good at faking being good.” Queenie acted like an open book, but she really wasn’t. Years of being put on the back burner had perfected her ability to fade into the background while she helped everyone else. Queenie wasn’t going to do that with me.

  “Oh, yeah?” she laughed. “You think I’m a faker?”

  I leaned close. “Not what I meant, sugar.” Queenie had said herself she kept her shit bottled inside and didn’t let it out.

  “Well, I’m good, Sledge, and I’m not a faker,” she insisted.

  “If you say so, Queenie.”

  “Do you think this is going to be good news?” She looked around the table. “You guys do this kind of thing often?”

  “Church?” I laughed. “Yeah, sugar. They’re like work meetings.”

  “Because being a badass biker is your job, right?”

  “That and other things.”

  Quinn stood at the head of the table and folded his arms over his chest.

  “We’re gonna talk about those other things once this is all over,” she whispered.

  “Let’s get to it,” Quinn barked.

  Queenie leaned into me and held her breath.

  “Dyno and I talked to Brick today. Four of the five guys panned out to not have any connection with Duchess.”

  Queenie dropped her hand to my leg and squeezed.

  “Raymond Clark is a different story, though.”

  “You guys ready for a wild story?” Dyno asked. “Because this shit is going to get insane.”

  “I’m gonna ban your ass from church, too,” Quinn growled.

  “Come on,” Dyno insisted. “You gotta admit this shit is crazy, Quinn. Gunner has royalty in his blood.”

  Queenie scrunched up her nose. “Uh, what?”

  Quinn pointed his finger at Dyno. “Keep your mouth shut and stop confusing everyone.”

  “Royalty,” Dyno whispered.

  “Fucking Christ.” Quinn shook his head. “Raymond Clark is the son of Bella and Jimmy Clark. Third born and third in line to take over the family business.”

  “At least, he was until he got strung out on meth and killed his dealer,” Dyno mumbled.

  “What is the family business?” Point asked.

  Quinn sighed. “Donuts.”

  “No, no,” Dyno interrupted. “Not just any donuts. Mother fucking King Donuts.”

  “That’s what you meant by royalty?” Queenie asked.

  “Have you ever had a King Donut? They’re the best shit around.” Dyno licked his lips. “They have three locations just in Whitmore with twenty-five more in the state.”

  “You really know your donut facts,” Rhino laughed.

 
; Dyno pointed his finger at Rhino. “When they are as good as King Donuts, you can bet your ass I know my facts.”

  “So Gunner’s dad is Raymond Clark, heir to the donut crown,” I summarized.

  Dyno pointed at me. “Third in line to the crown. His older twin brothers get first crack at it.”

  “But he’s in prison. Pretty sure that shot isn’t going to happen,” Zephyr laughed.

  “It’s not, at least not for the next twenty-seven years. Ol’ Raymond was unlucky and landed him a judge who wasn’t dazzled by his parents’ money.” Quinn laid his hand on the table.

  “So what does this all mean? Raymond couldn’t have been trying to kill me since he’s in prison and his family is in the donut business. Hardly murderers.” Queenie sighed. “Are you about to tell me that we’ve hit another dead end?”

  Quinn shook his head. “Quite the opposite, really. I think we hit the motherfucking jackpot.”

  “One problem, though,” Dyno sighed.

  “While the Clarks are the kings of donuts, they also are the rising kings in the area’s booming meth business.” Quinn knocked his knuckles on the table. “The donuts are now the front. No one would believe someone as successful as the Clarks would get their hands dirty with drugs.”

  “Holy fuck,” Zephyr groaned. “Are we about to fuck with more people who are just going to rain more shit down on us?”

  “Wait, wait,” Point called. “We skipped where we know that the Clarks are the ones who tried to kill Queenie and kidnapped Gunner.”

  “This is where things get a little blurred. So, Raymond didn’t know about Gunner until Duchess gave birth. She apparently reached out to his family with her hand out thinking Gunner would get his slice of the donut.”

  “Oh, my God, Duchess,” Queenie groaned. “She would just walk up to some millionaires with her hand out thinking she deserved something.”

  Quinn sat forward. “Again, a lot of this is just Dyno and me trying to connect the dots, but basically they told her to get lost. Duchess goes away, but the Clarks don’t forget about the fact Gunner has Clark blood in his veins.”

  “Family is everything to the Clarks,” Dyno adds.

  “So, they put a hit out on Duchess and think with her gone, they’ll get Gunner.”