I pulled out of the yard slowly, coming to a crawl, and then a stop beside the car that was keeping us under surveillance. Rapping on the window of the driver’s side with my knuckle, I leaned down and gestured for them to open it up. My cheesy grin was fixed in place as the driver did. He had black shades in place that made him look like a really bad version of that Reeves guy in The Matrix, and his gray hair was poking through the black at the sides, hanging over his ears. He wore a black shirt with no identification pinned anywhere. For all I knew, he could have been there to kill me on behalf of The Navs, but one look at his partner and I knew they were cops.
Shit cops, too, by the looks of things. The other guy looked like Owen Wilson with his blonde hair, too-bent nose, and his denim shirt hanging open at the collar.
“Hey.” I waved sarcastically as soon as the window was down. “You guys need a coffee or a sandwich or…”
The driver glanced at his partner, and even though I couldn’t see behind his sunglasses, his eye roll game felt strong.
“No? Shit, okay. Just make sure you have some water. It gets hot around here, and you can’t let the A/C run on that engine all day unless you’re going to run it on the road. It’ll burn out. No good for the mechanics of your motor. If it has wheels, it’s meant to roll, if you get my meaning.”
The passenger cop tried to hide his amusement and failed, but the driver cop… well, he thought more of himself than to mess with a criminal like me, clearly.
“Where are you going, Mr. Tucker?”
“Out for a ride. Some fucker just burned down half of myyard and I’m feeling pretty pissed about it.”
“Lot of those fuckers around Babylon recently.”
“You’re telling me. Mayor Walsh is a dick.” I leaned over the bike and glared at him. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve never trusted him. And, I’m not gonna lie to you, if I see that red-headed cocksucker anytime soon, I won’t be held responsible for the fist dent I leave in his face.”
They glanced at one another, a small scowl here and a twitch of confusion there.
“Probably shouldn’t be telling two cops that though, right?” Leaning back, I squared my shoulders, stretched my neck to each side, and let out a small groan of feigned tension. “Anyway. I’m heading out. You can either stay here and watch my place for me—which, by the way, me and the guys really appreciate in case some other fucker comes back and tries to burn down my home again—or you can follow me on the road. If it’s me you’re actually watching, I mean, and not The Hut.”
I stared at the driver and waited, letting him mull the words over in his mind, and then I smiled, winked, and rode away.
Of course, they followed me. I had no doubts they’d probably called in a second car to go and park itself outside the yard, too. There was no way they could let me ride out of there after everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. Not when I was the only infamous convicted murderer around here to have served solid time.
It was too easy to play these fools.
Twisting the throttle, I rode harder. The wind on my face made me want to close my eyes, which would be pretty fucking stupid when riding a motorcycle, sure, but that’s the kind of peace it brought me. It hit every nerve ending on my face, whipped through my hair, and made me feel alive.
If I have a son, I’ll ride with him one day.
If I have a daughter, I’ll ride with her, too.
The baby and its future controlled my every thought as Itook the cops on a wild goose chase, taking them on a loop around the outskirts of our town, only to bring them right outside Sutton’s police station.
I parked up in my usual bay. When the car pulled into place behind me, I’m pretty sure I saw the driver mouth that I was a son of a bitch while the passenger cop simply shook his head at me, looking like he appreciated it all the same. I saluted both of them and let my laughter pour free as I hopped up the stairs to the station and pushed through the doors.
“Honeys, I’m home!” I called out in the reception area.
A few familiar faces looked up, the women’s eyes widening, while a few of the cops at the back rose from their desks and quickly dropped their hands to their gun belts. I rolled my eyes at those idiots and dropped my arms on the counter in front of me, offering the lovely Ellen Moon a smile and sigh of contentment.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I cooed at her. Ellen was in her late fifties, with auburn hair that she still set in curlers most mornings, and a plump face that let everyone knew she was a regular visitor at Lizzy Ford’s bakery. “How’s my favorite girl today?”
She rolled her eyes, but the faint blush in her cheeks gave away her thoughts about me. Cougar Moon, I called her, knowing full well she’d take me in a heartbeat if I let her.
“What are you doing here today, Drew?” she asked, aiming for indifference as the contradicting red patches crept up her pale neck.
“I need to see my man.” My fingers drummed on the workspace between us.
“He’s in his cell. No visitors allowed.”
“Says who?”
“Says me,” came Winnie’s voice from behind Ellen. Cougar Moon dipped her head and began shuffling some papers around. The entire station seemed to hold its breath while they listened to the clip-clopping of Winnie’s heels on the floor.
Still leaning over the counter, I looked up to see her, and I plastered on a bright, white smile, raising my brows as she drew closer.