The Seventh Sons (Sycamore Moon Series Book 1) (9 page)

 

Screw this. Nicola needed a plan.

If the CDC woman wanted her, it was only to kill her. They had no other business to conduct. Nicola wondered about the local cops, but she was pretty sure they wouldn't help her either. Not after Doka had hurt one of them. Not if they were here backing up the CDC.

Angie's brother was the only one. He was dangerous, for sure, but he'd killed Steve in self-defense. He didn't come seeking death—he wanted information. If Nicola could find out where Diego's sister was, he would help her get out of here. It was that simple.

Angie was still alive. She had to be. Her body hadn't turned up over the falls yet. Of course, she couldn't be sure Doka had taken her, but what other explanation would suffice?

The confrontation outside continued as Nicola crawled away from the window. She wasn't going to wait to be executed. Out of view, she stood up and marched towards the back of the clubhouse. Where she was going was prohibited, but she had been the good girl long enough. The world hadn't been fair to Nicola for most of her life, and she would be damned if she was going to trust in the world to save her this time.

Nicola had stopped being a victim a long time ago. Taking action, she had learned, was the surest way to achieve an outcome. When she had been an immigrant child sold for sex, she'd tried to please her masters. She had curried favor where she could but it did her little good. She had still been a slave. And the police? Some of the men she had been forced to sleep with were cops. Nicola didn't have any delusions about her value to them.

No, no one had been there for her until she'd been bitten. It was a slow realization at first, but she had eventually learned that she was more powerful than her persecutors. It had finally been time for the world to please her. With the strength in her blood and her innocence lost, the inclination that had come to her was natural. She had torn her masters apart.

Nicola stopped at the door she wasn't supposed to open and made sure she was alone. She was thankful to the MC for taking her in and teaching her how to keep a low profile over the years, but Doka was the polar opposite of what had kept them alive for so long. Whatever they had been up to was going to bring them all down, starting right now with her.

Nicola opened the door to Mom's office and slid in gently. This felt like a betrayal but she knew: where Doka went, Mom ordered. If Angie had been taken by them, then there might be proof somewhere within.

Where would they have kept the kidnapped victims? Mom and some other members had cabins scattered throughout Sycamore, but aside from the falls, she'd never seen any strange activity in the woods. Doka visited the Yavapai reservation at times but it seemed a risky option. He was always complaining about how meddling the tribal police were. It didn't seem like a good place to start.

There was a safe on the floor, but Nicola didn't know the combination. There was also a metal filing cabinet with locked drawers. Mom kept her desk clean, so Nicola dug through the drawers, looking for anything suspicious. Pens, envelopes, small pads of paper—nothing suspicious presented itself.

There was a pistol in a bottom cubby. Nicola's fingers twitched as she pondered taking it. Did she really need the protection? The gun would just put her in more danger. If she used it against the CDC or police, she would be a dead woman. No. There had to be another way.

Her eyes scanned the room frantically. She was running out of time. Some community awards lined the walls. There were some knickknacks in a glass cabinet, little statues and such. She saw a bowl with glass beads in it, but something else inside caught her eye. She opened the glass door and ran her fingers through the beads and pulled out a small key. Then her gaze returned to the filing cabinet.

The heavy locks turned with the key. The top drawer was full of fliers and memorabilia, but the middle one looked more promising. The sections seemed to be personnel files of individuals associated with Mom. MC members were in here, too.

Nicola quickly found her name and opened the light folder. There was a death certificate from one of the men she had killed while fleeing the prostitution ring. Was this blackmail evidence against her? There was also a photocopy of her passport and copies of some of her old arrest reports, but those were public records that didn't seem important. There weren't too many papers, so she shoved them into her jeans pocket.

She flipped through the rest of the folders, looking for Nithya's name, and she was elated to find it. Inside was a scan of a recent ID for Nithya Rao. A Flagstaff address was listed. That was a start. Nicola folded the paper and added it to her collection but was frustrated at the lack of further information in the folder. No dirt on the CDC? That didn't seem like Mom at all.

Unfortunately, she couldn't find anything in here relating to Doka.

Nicola quietly shut the drawer and opened the last one at the bottom. These were financial records: titles for motorcycles, the deed for the clubhouse under SSMC, LLC, and lots of tax forms. She was focused on looking for other files that were suspect, but nothing had the names Deborah Holton or Carlos Doka on them. Nicola shook her head. There had to be something else.

Then Nicola stumbled onto something interesting. It was a liquor license application for Sycamore Lodge. That was strange because the club didn't own the roadhouse. The listed name was a Regina Beale. Where had she heard that name before?

Nicola thought back to the incident that had first gotten her involved with Doka. She had tracked down the delinquent close to the border of Sanctuary. The roadhouse was the nearest building. At the time, she didn't think much of it.

The wolf racked her brain trying to think of a plausible theory. There was nothing special at Sycamore Lodge—she'd spent a lot of time there. There was an old farming bin out back but it only held rancid grain. It didn't make sense. Still, maybe there was something there.

In the distance, Nicola heard the muffled slam of the heavy front door of the cabin. Whoever was outside had probably come back in. Nicola had to take off. She closed the drawer and made a quick attempt to leave things as she had found them.

It was imperative that she got to Diego. Her search had revealed no direct evidence of any wrongdoing but she had possible leads. That had to be enough to buy good faith.

The president's office was in the back of the clubhouse. It was an easy walk from there to the exit. She creaked the back door open a peek and it was all quiet, so she slipped out, wondering if she would ever be welcome inside again.

 

"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

The crisp voice spun Nicola around, and she jumped backwards at the sight of the police detective. Maxim was standing flush with the cabin wall, holding a gun with both hands steadily pointed at her.

The strength was back. Nicola could feel it building up in her wiry frame.

"I saw you duck away from the window," he said plainly.

Nicola looked around the clearing. The CDC woman wasn't here. No one else was in sight. But she didn't want any trouble. She wasn't about to attack a police detective, and she certainly didn't want to get shot.

"I didn't cut that cop," she said, pleading. "It was Doka."

Maxim remained calm and looked at her curiously. "That's funny. He said the same thing about you before the CDC got him."

What did that mean? If the CDC had already killed Doka, then what chance did Nicola have of surviving this confrontation?

She looked to the tree line. It wasn't that far away.

"I'm packing silver rounds," said Maxim. His hardened eyes didn't miss a beat. "I wouldn't try anything."

Holding the strength back was all she could manage. She needed to remain rational here. A wild animal wouldn't make for a sympathetic victim. But she balled her hands into fists anyway, if only to fight off the instinctual pressure. Nicola took a backward step.

"Listen," said the cop, lowering the gun ever so slightly, "I just want to talk."

"Is that why the CDC is here? You know what's gonna happen to me."

It was a statement that he acknowledged with his troubled face. But his lies continued anyway.

"I can protect you if you can help me."

"Fuck you, pig," she shot back, taking another step to the trees. "You can't protect me from her."

Maxim looked around in frustration. His left hand let go of the gun as his right finger eased off the trigger. He held both palms towards her, turning the pistol to the side. "Ask yourself why I haven't called the others yet."

The overbearing sun glinted off a silver ring on his left hand. He seemed earnest, but cops, especially detectives, were trained liars. Still, even as she watched Gaston sneak around the corner of the house, he had given her pause enough to question his motives.

"I just need to know what it is you know." The detective had a tender note in his voice as he broke from his usual authoritative gruffness. "Why were you trying to keep Diego from finding his sister?"

Nicola was caught off guard. "It wasn't me," was all she said.

From immediately behind the detective, Gaston swung a fist and jarred the pistol loose. Maxim's arm buckled. He tried to snag the weapon but it flew past his fingers.

The detective recovered and forced his elbow back, catching the big man in the gut, but he barely winced. Gaston shoved the cop into the ground.

Maxim reached through the wild grass for his pistol. Nicola scrambled to find it, sprung ahead, and kicked the gun away toward the tree line. She didn't want any part of it.

Gaston gripped the detective's black vest with both hands and lifted him into the air. He righted Maxim's body and slammed him into the cabin, thrusting his robust forearm into the cop's neck.

"Don't make a sound," said Gaston. "I could have killed you."

The cop had both of his hands on Gaston's arm, easing some of the pressure on his neck. He was angry and, although overpowered, still had fight left in him. "You stupid motherfucker," he choked out. "You're going to jail for this."

Nicola put her hand up to instill reason in the big man. Gaston was a towering figure—his broad frame could've subdued the detective even without his wolf strength. He was a hothead. And he liked to fight. And he was showing unbelievable discipline right now.

"That's not how the CDC warrant operates," said the big man calmly. "You think it's a mistake that this clubhouse is outside your town? You are only here on that bitch's authority. You can't get me on this."

Maxim's shoes scratched against the wooden wall for purchase. "You can't interfere with the CDC warrant."

Gaston smiled and showed a large set of teeth. "Is that what you were doing here?" He looked back at Nicola, who didn't know what to do. "It didn't look like it."

A twig snapped and Nicola turned quickly.

"Put him down, Gaston." Diego stood some distance away, holding the detective's gun.

That was him. Nicola's heart jumped. That's who she was looking for.

"You're Angie's brother, right?" she asked. "You need to get me out of here." Nicola took another step away from the cabin but Diego was preoccupied. He was still pointing the gun at the other two.

Gaston didn't move at all, but he released what sounded like a deep, guttural growl. "You," he said, not bothering to face Diego. "What are you doing at my clubhouse?"

Maxim yanked on the big man's arm but it held strong. "What does she know, Diego?"

"I don't know," he insisted. Despite the other two still locked in a grapple, Diego slackened his pose and looked at Nicola. "Where's Angelica?"

"She's alive," she spit out. "I don't know where she is, but I can help you find her. I'm a good tracker." All Nicola needed to do was get away from the CDC and the police. She would tell Diego all about Carlos, show him the papers, and give him everything she had. Now that Doka was dead, he wouldn't care. Nicola could leave Mom out of it and hopefully not be hunted by the MC.

Maxim heaved his body against Gaston's. "Fucking let me go," he said, staring the wolf down. The big man let out a heavy hiss that sounded like steam escaping. He backed up, and Maxim slid down the wall to his knees, coughing. "You need to tell me," he said, clearing his throat, "everything you know right now if you want any chance here."

Nicola thought it couldn't hurt but it was Gaston who spoke. "We don't talk to police."

"I'm not a cop," said Diego.

Gaston was unimpressed. "You killed Steve."

"Gaston," said Nicola. "Doka told me and Steve to grab Diego after you talked to him. We kind of worked for him on the side."

"What?" he blurted out, taken aback. It wasn't the scuffle with the police detective or the gun to his back that had set Gaston on edge. It was the threat of him having to change the narrative in his head over who was at fault.

"I'm sorry. I know Steve was your friend. I should have told you." Nicola felt awful, but it had been Steve's choice. He was the one who'd gotten her involved. He was the one who'd told her to keep it a secret.

"Why would Doka attack Diego?" Gaston looked to both of them for answers. Nicola wasn't sure how to tell him. If he knew, then the CDC might just hunt him down too.

"It's about the missing people," said Maxim, returning to his feet. "Isn't it?"

Nicola saw Diego and Maxim's pleading eyes and felt bad for their pain. But it was Gaston looking at her with furrowed brows that hit her the hardest. He just stood there, at a loss.

"Yes," said Nicola, and then, "no. Not missing people. Not really." Nicola wrapped her arms around her body like she was cold. It had to be said. "The suicides."

Diego's eyes widened. "What suicides? My sister?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm guessing they have her somewhere. You have to understand that I only saw a little of it a long time ago. They didn't trust me." Nicola felt tears coming to her eyes but forced them back. "I wasn't a part of it," she asserted.