Get Your Murder Running (Book 4) (A Harley and Davidson Mystery) Page 3

  “Why am I worried about my riding clothes just to go talk to a few old men?”

  “You can’t drive that Beemer anywhere around these guys. They are patriots and sons of the south. The only way for you to gain their trust is to fit in,” Coil said.

  “You got to be freaking kidding me,” Hank said. “I can’t even ride my motorcycle. How am I going to fit in?”

  “Sully will teach you. Like I said, he might be a pirate, but his loyalty belongs to me.”

  “I doubt that. Guys like this Sully only look out after themselves.”

  “Sully is different. Loosen up, Hank. You might actually get to like him.”

  The look he gave Coil had the other man taking a step back. Coil knew he’d pushed too hard and too far. Hank was about a millisecond from telling him good luck and walking out the door.

  “Look,” Coil said. “You’re going to be fine. Just get familiar with the file. It doesn’t tell you anything about the current club members, but at least you’ll have an idea about the original outlaws of the Lone Star Rattlers.”

  “The Rattlers,” Hank said, scoffing. “Never in my life would I have imagined hunting treasure.”

  “You’re not. You’re hunting a killer, and according to you, it’s a female killer, so that’ll make two cases in a row for the femme fatale. This should be a piece of cake.”

  “Right, piece of cake.” Hank pushed up his shirtsleeve to expose a rock hard, mound of muscle. “Think I should get a tattoo to fit in?”

  Coil pulled his shirt out of his pants and turned around so Hank could see his back. Brightly colored images in burgundy, sea foam, coral, yellows and hues of shading were embedded with a wild mixture of images and shapes. His whole back and shoulders were covered, and the tops of his biceps.

  “Hurts like the devil,” Coil said. “But I’d avoid them if I were you. I hear they’re addictive.”

  “No kidding,” Hank said, following Coil back toward the front of the sheriff’s office. “I’ll be fine without them. After all, I’m sure not every outlaw has a tattoo.”

  “Actually, they do. It’s part of their initiation.”

  Hank rubbed at his post winter-pale skin and imagined the pain of thousands of sharp needle strikes pounding ink into it. He shuddered.

  “Why can’t they have a secret handshake?” Hank asked, scowling.

  “They do. Now you want to keep massaging that heap of muscle or see some gold?” Coil motioned for him to follow.

  “It’s in here?” Hank asked, perplexed.

  “Ever heard the old saying, never judge a book by its cover?” Coil gave him a look that Hank tried to interpret, but he didn’t understand until he stood at the threshold of Coil’s office. He scanned every inch of the modest office, and then it hit him.

  “You’ve got a trap door concealed behind that bookshelf,” Hank said.

  “Wow,” Coil said. “I’m impressed. How’d you know?”

  “The fresh swipe of dust on the floor matches the arc of swinging that shelf out for access.”

  “I’ll make sure to sweep in here more often. Just in case.”

  “Good idea.”

  Hank helped Coil move the bookcase away from the wall. A combination lock accessed the door’s locking mechanism, but Coil didn’t share the code. Hank didn’t want to know it. Knowing where the gold was hidden was bad enough. Hank understood why Coil remodeled the Sheriff’s Office but left his space the way it was.

  “Was this from an old bank vault?” Hank asked.

  “Yes, I believe so. But be careful of the stairs.”

  “I didn’t know this had a second story,” Hank said.

  “It doesn’t. Watch your step.”

  Coil flipped on a wall switch. There was indeed a set of stairs that led down. Way down. Immediately Hank felt tightness in his chest. His pulse pounded and sweat broke out on his brow. He paused at the threshold. Claustrophobia was darned inconvenient.

  “You comin’?” Coil asked as he descended the stairs.

  “Give me a second.” Hank breathed in a couple of deep breaths and tried to get his heart rate under control. The last thing he wanted to do was pass out.

  “Oh yeah,” Coil said. “You’re not so big on small spaces. I have some bad news for you. It gets smaller as you go down. Seems the old timey folks of Rusty Gun were a bit smaller than six-foot-two and two-hundred and sixty pounds.”

  “I’m two-forty,” Hank said, wheezing.

  Hank gritted his teeth and stumbled back a step as lightheadedness took over. Sucking in a breath was becoming impossible.

  “Hey, man. You okay? We don’t have to do this today. I can get Agatha instead.” Coil climbed back up and grabbed a chair, shoving it under Hank’s shaky legs. He fell back and stuck his head between his knees so he could breathe again.

  “I’m sorry. I forgot how bad the claustrophobia affected you. How about I go down and we can Facetime?”

  Hank waved off Coil’s suggestion. He wasn’t as interested in what was down in that cellar as he was why Coil tried to lead him there in the first place. He was one of the very few people who knew about Hank’s severe reactions to enclosed spaces. Men like Coil didn’t forget things like that.

  “Sure you don’t want to give it another try?” Coil asked, handing him a bottle of water.

  “No, why would you even bother asking?”

  Chapter Four

  Wednesday

  Agatha stood in her kitchen, tapping her foot impatiently as a fresh pitcher of tea brewed. She practically lived on the stuff, and the caffeine gave her brain a nice jolt. She looked over at Hank and crinkled her nose. His coffee habit almost rivaled her tea habit. Almost.

  They’d gotten into an easy rhythm when they were working. They were comfortable moving around each other in her house, and long periods of silence didn’t bother him when they were engrossed in research. It was a nice feeling to have a partner. It was an even nicer feeling to have those first fluttering of butterflies in her stomach whenever he looked at her a certain way.

  “Why don’t you join us at Bucky’s tonight for dinner?” she asked him. “They’re having a buy one get one free brisket platter special.”

  Agatha had never been afraid to eat. She loved food, and she especially loved meat. Thank goodness she’d been blessed with good genes.

  “As tempting as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass,” he said. Hank patted his flat stomach, and she rolled her eyes.

  “It’s just one night of meat, Hank. You’re not going to lose your six-pack because you ate a side of beef.”

  “I’d be happy to come with you and hang out, but I planned to spend some time on my bike. The weather is too pretty not to.”

  “It’s fixed already?” she asked. “Can I ride with you? I know I told you before that I never would, but I like the idea of the wind blowing through my hair. And I might have bought some leather pants just in case. It’s important to look the part.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “I definitely want to see those. We’ll hit the road soon. I promise. I do want to talk to you about something that’s bothering me though.”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “I want to apologize for what I said this morning at the Café. I do trust you, and I trusted Coil.”

  “Trusted?” Agatha asked, her brows rose in suspicion.

  Hank shrugged and she could tell he was uncomfortable even having the conversation. “I’m just getting an odd vibe. Coil is acting a little too much like Gollum and the one ring.”

  “I’ve noticed a change in his behavior,” Agatha said. “But I thought he was feeling the pressure. You know, it’s not only him and us at risk, but his boy also saw the gold. And election season is coming up. I’m sure that’s never very far from the back of his mind.”

  “Coil knows better than anyone that I’m clau……”

  “What?” she asked. He’d gone pale at whatever he’d been about to say, and she rushed over to him, putting a hand on his arm. �
��Are you okay?”

  “I’m just thinking about what happened earlier. It’s like Coil baited me into confirming the gold was safe, yet he knew I’d never be able to fit in the space he had it hidden.”

  “Cause you’re too big?” she asked.

  “No,” Hank said, obviously annoyed. “I’m not big. I’m claustrophobic.”

  “Okay, sorry,” she said, fighting a grin. “I didn’t mean you’re big as in fat. I meant you’re a big man. You’re built the way a man should me. And you’re looking very good.”

  She couldn’t believe how forward she was being. Her gaze seemed to be stuck on his biceps. He was definitely well developed. They’d been dancing around this flirtation for months, and it was getting hard to restrain herself.

  Hank cleared his throat and she realized she’d been staring too long, so she turned back to her task of brewing tea.

  “Since you’re freaked by tight spaces does that mean the treasure is hidden in a cave or something?” she asked.

  “You could say that.”

  “But I saw y’all walk over to his office from the Café, and I know there aren’t any caves over there.”

  “You spied on us?” he asked, raising his brows.

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “Nope, I just like the way you walk. What does your gut tell you about Coil?”

  “I’ve always trusted him and have no reason not to. Maybe he’s just paranoid or afraid for his family. After all, I’m the one who freaked out at the small space.”

  “Okay, let’s just put those thoughts away and focus on what we need to do to get to the bottom of this case.”

  “Right, the case,” he said. It sounded as if there was disappointment in his voice.

  She could tell there was something else on his mind. Probably the same thing that had been on hers since Christmas. They’d been dancing around their relationship for too long.

  “Look,” she said. “We need to talk about what’s happening with us. We’ve worked together so well since last year. While we were dealing with the Ellie Belle case, it seemed like you were interested. Things got pretty warm between us. And then we go to Coil’s place for Christmas and we were back to being pals. I don’t know what happened. I figured maybe you lost interest or wanted to keep things business only, but you’re still flirting with me.”

  He sighed and came over to take her hand. It felt nice, and she realized it was the first time he’d touched her like that, as something more than a friend. Even the simplest touch on the hand seemed like so much more.

  “That night was tough for me,” he said. “All I could think about was Tammy. Ellie Belle’s death gave me closure from The Bonekeeper. I never really had the chance to grieve, and it just kind of hit me that night. I wasn’t in any shape to start something at that time. It wouldn’t have been fair to you.”

  “I understand,” she said. And she did. It was hard to compete with a ghost. Especially one he still loved. “I was feeling vulnerable that night too, and the timing just wasn’t good. I wanted you to kiss me, but maybe it wasn’t for the right reasons.”

  She shrugged it off, the hurt of his words cutting deep, and she stiffened as he put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I have closure. I’ve grieved. And I very much want to kiss you.”

  “Oh,” she said, finding it hard to catch her breath all of a sudden.

  “And as much as I’d like to kiss you right now,” he said, “I’m afraid if we start it’s going to be hard to stop. And we’ve got business to attend to.”

  “Right,” she said. “Business. But you’ll let me know when business is done so the kissing can start?”

  He chuckled. “You’ll be the first to know.”

  Chapter Five

  Thursday

  He woke the next morning with the thought of kissing Agatha on his mind. Once she’d put the idea in his head, he hadn’t been able to get it out. His second thought was about Coil. His gut wasn’t any more at ease over whatever was going on with his friend.

  He chose a pair of slate, gray dress slacks and a navy blue, short sleeve Polo shirt. The unreliable weather prompted him to carry a windbreaker just in case.

  He felt guilty for being suspicious of Coil and he wasn’t sure how he’d react his friend arrived to pick him up. But maybe he wouldn’t notice since it was just before six-thirty and the sun still hadn’t come up.

  They were heading to Austin to meet Will at the Texas Ranger’s crime lab. They’d positively identified Beau, and the criminal investigations division, or CID, wanted more information about the discovery of the skeleton. Hank was suspicious of their request, but other than following Coil to the site, he had no information to offer.

  Coil had also promised to stop at Reverend Graham’s Harley Davidson shop on the way back to introduce him to Sully. The old biker had trailered Hank’s motorcycle from his garage to the dealership until Hank was able to meet with him for private lessons.

  Hank mulled around the kitchen for a bit. Nerves kept him from putting anything in his stomach, so he waited in the living room for Coil to arrive. Agatha sent a text message to wish him luck and to be careful. She also said she’d be out for her morning jog soon, and that he should be on the lookout for her.

  He laughed, it reminded him of the first time they met during her morning run. But it didn’t take long for the reality of her caution to flood over him. He was just about to reply to her text when he heard the powerful engine of Coil’s Dodge Ram 3500 Heavy Duty pickup truck. The matte black monster was unmistakable, and although it was Coil’s personal vehicle, he chose to drive it instead of an official county vehicle to save the taxpayers money.

  Hank stood inside his door and replied to her text:

  Gotta go. My ride is here.

  Coil honked the horn and Hank quickly activated his home security alarm code. He feigned a smile and climbed in with a lukewarm greeting for Coil.

  “Hey, man. Feeling better?” Coil asked.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s been so long since I’ve had an attack I was thinking maybe it had just gone away. But that small stairwell brought it all back.”

  “Don’t think nothing of it. Just know the gold’s safe and sound until we figure out the best thing to do with it.”

  “What are our options?” Hank asked.

  “Not sure, and I’m kinda hesitant to go around asking right now. We might already have a price on our heads.”

  “You know, all I’ve heard since we collected Beau and the gold is how at risk we are. Not that I’m asking for trouble, but where is this trouble we’re supposed to run into?”

  Coil eased through town, as he liked to do. Like every good lawman, his head was always on a swivel and his eyes constantly scanned for trouble. The only trouble on the streets of Rusty Gun was Agatha Harley.

  Coil pulled up next to her and she waved as she continued to jog past them. Hank was happy to see her though. He’d gotten used to seeing her first thing every morning. It didn’t feel right when she didn’t run past his house or he didn’t meet her for breakfast. The thought of waking up to Agatha every morning slammed through his head, and he shook it as if possessed.

  “You okay?” Coil asked.

  “Yeah, just getting the cobwebs out.”

  They hit the open highway toward Austin, and Coil let the big hemi loose. Soon, they were cruising at eighty miles an hour. Coil turned down the police radio and turned up his favorite music station. It wasn’t long until Hank was tapping his foot and laughing at Coil’s dry sense of humor. He missed feeling so close to him.

  “What does the state CID want to talk to you about?” he asked, hoping for a more in depth answer than the one he’d originally given him.

  “From me?” Coil asked. “I don’t know. But from what Will said, they mostly want to talk to you.”

  “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?” he asked. “All I did was ride into the woods with you.”

&nbs
p; “I’m not sure. Those CID boys can be squirrelly. But this could be the risk you were asking about. I’m not saying these detectives are dirty, but most cops want to know if the legend is true just like we do.”

  “I didn’t even know there was a legend until you dragged me into this.”

  “Well, maybe so, but most cops have been chasing this myth for decades. Every time they run across a Rattler, they try squeezing them for information, but always come up dry. I guess it’s a matter of pride. Who gets the gold, you know?”

  “That is a good question, Reggie. Who does get the gold?”

  “If the State recovers it, the Rangers will surely be handsomely rewarded. If the outlaws find it, then I’d guess after a monster blow out celebration, they’d cause the world all sorts of grief with unlimited resources.”

  “I guess that sticks us smack dab in the middle.” Hank slapped his hand across his knee.

  “How about we not tell them we have the gold?” Coil asked. “At least not yet.”

  “Well, to be honest, that’s easy enough. I haven’t seen the gold, and I don’t know exactly where it is.”

  “Sure you do. It’s in the cellar.”

  “You know the old saying,” Hank said. “Trust but confirm. Until I get over my fear of being squished, that gold’s all yours.”

  Hank laughed to keep the mood light. But it was anything but light. He could’ve cut the tension with a knife.

  “How are you and Miss Harley getting along these days?” Coil asked, changing the topic.

  “We’re good,” he said. “Better now that we’ve talked about stuff. Why do you ask?”

  “Y’all talked? Coil asked. “Because it seemed like she was brushing you off back there on the street. Usually, she’d been flagging you down just to get a little face time. That woman likes looking at you.”