Mr. Andrews (Andrews and Chase Book 1) Read online

  “Great name; a true match made in Uzi heaven. Like begets like. Crazy begets crazy; all that shit.”

  He turned around heading back into the garage, expecting them to follow—they did.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he looked at Judy with just a hint of sexual mischief in his eyes, “why don’t you go by your birth name? I mean a sexy Latin name with all that hot Latina-ness you got going on would just add to your mystique.”

  “Maria Rosalina Garcia De Arroyo is too long; though De Arroyo is off now ‘cause I divorced that bastard. Plus, people in the hood started calling me ‘Big Booty Judy’”—she twirled showing him her ass that had warranted the affection of many men—“cause of all this. So I just go by Judy now.”

  Nitro licked his lips again. “I do love a girl with some junk in the trunk, baby.” He set the Uzi down and his face took on a serious look, like a shadow giving witness to the demons that played there.

  “And to what can I attribute the pleasure of you ladies’ company today? Excuse me ladies.” He got up from the wooden stool where he was seated and walked around a corner.

  Chandler and Judy followed him with their eyes. They could still see him, but they couldn’t see who he was talking to.

  He fisted one of the club whore’s shirt and pulled her in so close she could smell the mint in his mouth. “What the fuck have I told you about hiding around corners eavesdropping on me?”

  “Why are you always so nice to them? You never talk to me like that.” Her voice came out filled with a mixture of hatred and a whine that grated on his nerves. She pulled far enough away from him to give the girls an I hate you bitches look.

  Nitro pushed the woman away with a sneer of disgust. She stomped off in anger. Angry or not, she wasn’t crazy. Nitro was psychotic, and he had a cutting fetish. She had no intention of being on the receiving end of his blade.

  He walked back over daring Chandler or Judy to say something. They didn’t. When he sat back down his sincere smile was back in place. There were very few people he liked, and he absolutely adored these two ladies.

  “So?” He raised his brows; a challenge to give him a job he couldn’t handle. To date, that hadn’t happened.

  A chill ran up Chandler’s backbone, and she hugged herself in an effort to ward it off.

  Nitro leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”

  “Good to know, Nitro,” she said, with widened chocolate brown eyes. Eyes that melted him and made him want to eat her alive every time he got caught up in them.

  “Anyway,” she said, in an effort to get things back on track. She set her camera bag down on the workbench. “I was taking pics this morning. Nothing special, just dilapidated buildings and shit. While I was shooting them, some men walked out of the alley and I kept shooting. Two hours later I’m down at the police station with some guy who is hired out to consult with cops and FBI. I’ve got some suit named Roman Andrews shaking me down.”

  “Guy’s some bigwig rich guy,” Judy was explaining. No need to because Nitro already had pulled him up on Google.

  “Give me that SD card and camera,” he said without looking up.

  Judy reached for the bag with excitement in her eyes.

  Chandler tapped her hand like she was reprimanding a child. “Uh, uh, uh, that’s my baby.”

  Judy rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time they’d been over this. Nitro’s cocky smile showed he was close enough to both women that he’d heard the argument before.

  Chandler eased in close to Nitro showing him what was on the digital. She popped out the SD card, and he put it into his laptop that probably cost more than she’d make for the rest of the year. Nitro was ex-military and he still had military connections. She was convinced he’d joined the military so he could kill people; a socially acceptable way to sate his thirst for blood.

  “What are you doing?” Now Judy was pressed into him too. If it was anybody but these two girls he’d pick up the Uzi and use it. He didn’t like his personal space intruded on.

  “Facial recognition, baby girl.” Judy could feel herself gushing at the sight of his cocky smile.

  The girls jumped back when he turned and gave them his full attention while the software did its work. Nitro slowly shook his head. “Haven’t you girls learned by now you’re safe from my psychotic tendencies? I’d rather use them on whoever is putting you in danger.”

  Relief washed over both women. Nitro was a great friend to have, but getting on his bad side meant unleashing all the wrath he kept buried just beneath the surface. A volcano waiting to erupt on the world.

  “Bingo. We’ve gotta hit. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, ladies, but you could very well be in danger. This guy’s name is Bobby Ed Bivens. He’s one of those good ole’ boys shady businessmen. The type who is always in the paper for some do gooder shit, but he’s really nothing more than a white collar criminal. He’s a man who is very concerned about his image. A real figment of his own imagination if you ask me.”

  “So what does that have to do with us?” Chandler’s forehead scrunched up in confusion.

  Nitro’s eyes went so dark Chandler couldn’t tell where the pupil ended and the iris began, which was never a good sign. “Because you just captured pictures of Mr. Bobby Ed Bivens in the company of the Born Bayou mafia.”

  Judy sat down on a stool in an effort to ward off the nausea washing over her. “Great. Just what we need. I’m all for excitement, but sometimes I swear your middle name is trouble, Chandler.”

  “My kinda gal,” Nitro smirked.

  Chandler looked at Nitro with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Please tell me you have some connections with said Born Bayou mafia.”

  “Do I get to be your hero if I do?”

  “You’re already my hero, Nitro.”

  “Good answer. It even looks like you really mean it.”

  Chandler rolled her eyes at him. “I’m an open book when it comes to you.”

  “Wouldn’t matter if you were or not. I have the superpower of seeing through people.” Though he was joking they all knew his statement held an element of truth. “I might know the head guy’s crazy son. He likes to shoot arrows in people and then play with them—the arrows. They’re a touchy bunch though. His daddy’s crazy; likes to string people up and horsewhip ‘em.”

  “Sounds like a real interesting gene pool there,” Chandler said.

  “Yeah, I think so too. They all inherited the DNA of feeding enemies to the gators. Great way to dispose of a body if you ask me.” Of course Nitro would share a common bond with crazy psychotics. It was right up his alley.

  Chapter Five

  Bobby Ed’s fist slammed down on the opulent desk so hard the young officer seated on the other side of it jumped in fear. Poor guy was waiting for pee to run down his leg, but thankfully it didn’t happen. Kevin Olsen could feel the sweat running down his temples and resisted the urge to wipe it away. He hadn’t expected the man to be so mad; he’d thought he’d be glad he was earning his under the table money.

  “Sir, honestly I don’t have the connections to… well… do what may need to be done.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that, boy. I’ve got all the connections I need. Now you listen to me and you listen good.” He leaned into the desk so far Kevin wondered if he was going to come over it. This wasn’t the benevolent do-gooder who loved to see his face in the media; his hazel eyes were shooting out flames Kevin could feel licking against his skin. “I pay you quite well to keep me informed. If you let one morsel, one tidbit of information get by me, I’ll skin that pretty little wife and kid of yours alive.”

  Bobby Ed was stabbing at the air, and the bulging blue veins in his neck made Kevin wonder if he’d have a heart attack right on the spot. At present, he believed it would be a good thing.

  “Now get your worthless ass out of my office!” He swiped his hand through the air as if slicing through the bad news he’d just received.

&nbs
p; Kevin wasted no time, hat in hand, tail tucked between his legs, and pee threatening to run down his leg, getting the hell out of Bobby Ed Bivens’ office. When he snuck a peek at the secretary outside the door she never looked up. It only solidified what Kevin already knew: people were paid very well to look the other way when it came to Bobby’s business tactics. Screaming through a blue-veined throat was probably a common occurrence around there.

  On the other side of the oak door, Bobby sat with his head in his hands thinking about all the ways he could be hung up and horse whipped. He hoped he was dead by the time Lozado fed him to the gators. How fast did somebody die in the jaws of a gator? A shudder ran through him.

  If that little bitch thought she was going to sell those pictures and tarnish his good name, she had another thing coming. Why, he’d spent years building up his good reputation in this town. A man had to grease a lot of palms to get good press nowadays. If word got out she had those pictures that Born Bayou bunch would take pleasure in subjecting him to whatever sadistic mood they were in that day. Fucking psychos—the whole lot of them. Bobby Ed couldn’t help but wonder how a family’s DNA could get so fucked up. No wonder people researched sperm donors. Imagine some lily-white upper crust family getting ahold of some kid like that—a real live Chucky doll.

  He was going to have to be careful about how he handled this situation. Maybe he could give some meth head fifty bucks to shake her down. Nobody would ever believe he would have any dealings with the likes of someone like that. Damn that bitch, putting him in this situation. He was a man accustomed to being in control and Chandler’s noose around his neck wasn’t sitting well with him at all.

  You little bitch. You. Are. Going. Down.

  Chapter Six

  “Did you see the way Nitro came running out of there when your car backfired? He must have thought it was a gunshot.”

  Chandler looked over in Judy’s direction at the fish-eye on her passenger side car mirror to change lanes.

  “Nah, one gunshot is nothing around the Dauntless MC Clubhouse. If it was a barrage of back and forth firepower, then he’d come out shooting. One gunshot is just enough to get on his nerves when he’s working on explosives or guns. He always threatens to come out to the farm with me and my aunt; says it’s too noisy around there to work.”

  “Would you let him?”

  “Sure I would. I love Nitro.”

  “That woman who follows him around like a puppy gave us the stink eye,” Judy laughed. “I get the feeling she may not like us. I don’t think he’s fucking her either.”

  “He says he’s waiting for me. Everybody else in the club’s fucking her, though; that’s why they call her Clubie—she’s the club whore. She’s in love with Nitro. Just because he’s not fucking her doesn’t mean she can stop loving him, though. There are people who aren’t sleeping together and they’re in love. Love is complicated at best. That’s why we get cases on emotional infidelity. Sometimes that shit’s worse.” Chandler shrugged. Though the women weren’t PIs, more than once they’d been paid to get photos under the table for a jilted spouse or lover. They had a way of getting into places no man could.

  “That’s a sad situation for a woman to be in love with a psychotic man who’s incapable of loving anybody.”

  “He loves us. He loves his biker brothers.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Well, Nitro’s just a different breed. We’ve all got our demons.”

  “Don’t I know it girl?”

  “Who the hell is that?” Chandler asked, pulling up behind a huge yellow Cadillac that was parked in front of the office.

  “Maybe it’s a client. We need some money, and from the looks of that ride this ol’ boy has got some.”

  Judy jumped from the car and sashayed up to the passenger side window. She bent down looking in at the cowboy behind the wheel.

  “Well, hey there, pretty lady,” he said, tipping his cowboy hat at her.

  “This is some ride you got, steer horns on the front and everything.”

  “I’d love nothing more than to take you for a ride in it someday.”

  “You here for a photography appointment,” Judy asked.

  By now Chandler had walked up beside the car.

  “Might need to talk to you ladies inside. Nitro sent me.”

  Both the women looked at it each other shocked. Nitro had wasted no time.

  “Well, come on in, honey, ‘cause these streets have eyes, and we don’t want to be talking out here.” Judy sashayed towards the office door. Just knowing who had sent the stranger was enough to let both girls know this conversation needed to be private.

  Billy the Kid followed behind Judy, enjoying the view; with respect of course—after all, he had a mother and sisters. The man was a damn good PI, but when it came to women, he was always guileless and respectful.

  Judy took her place at her desk and began checking messages on the office landline. Both women kept the business phone and their cell phones separate. Work time was work time and home time was home time. At least that’s what the girls told themselves in between the trouble Chandler always seemed to manage getting into.

  Chandler eyed Billy, getting a read on him by habit. Even though Nitro had referred him it was ingrained in her nature to know people’s motivations.

  Judy tugged at her too short black sequence skirt and maneuvered her five-inch stilettos into the office. She grinned when she saw the man seated next to her checking her legs out. Chandler flicked a business card in her direction that Billy had handed her outside.

  “Billy the Kid. Private investigator. You must be one hell of a shot. Question is: are you a good PI?”

  Billy’s boyish grin melted the edges of Judy’s skeptical heart.

  “Yes, Ma’am, or at least my clients are always satisfied.”

  “I take it you’re thinking the same thing Nitro is: that we’re in danger.” Chandler breathed out a heavy sigh laced with fatigue. She damn sure hadn’t gone out looking for trouble this morning, but as usual, it had found her.

  “My guess is, that ol’ boy Bobby Ed don’t want the media getting ahold of those pictures.”

  “Why did Nitro specifically send you?” Chandler searched his face for any sign of hope that she was going to get out of this unscathed.

  “He said if we were going to be dealing with Born Bayou mafia, he was sending in a country boy to do it.”

  “Do you think we’re in danger with them?”

  “That’s a tight wire, ma’am. I’d say your immediate threat is Bobby Ed Bivens. He’s got that lily white reputation to protect.”

  “Lily white, my ass,” Judy hissed.

  “You’re preachin’ to the choir on that one. That man’s hands are as dirty as a pig rollin’ ‘round in mud.”

  Chandler shut her eyes in an effort to take it all in. “Billy, I’m sure you’re a wonderful investigator, but we don’t have the money to hire you.”

  “Nitro already paid me in full, ma’am.”

  Nitro had connections with gunrunning from his military days. He’d done quite well for himself financially. It was common knowledge he didn’t stay at the clubhouse because he had to. He stayed because he wanted to; except for the days he threatened to come to the farm because it was too noisy. Chandler knew it would happen sooner or later.

  The girls looked at each other. There was no argument. Arguing with Nitro was like arguing with a brick wall, or worse yet, an IED—hidden and waiting to rip the limbs from anything that got in its way.

  “Do what you have to. I’m certain he has given you all of our information.” Chandler had reached the resigned point. This was way out of her pay grade. This would be right up Nitro’s alley, though.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Billy solemnly nodded his head feeling the sharp edges of her frustration. He was certain she had no idea when she woke up this morning that life as she knew it would never be the same. If Billy could relate to anything, it was women. Being the only boy in the
house growing up had taught him what eluded most of the male race even after years of marriage.

  “Nitro’s got a set of those pics on a flash drive. I’ve got one I’m puttin’ in a private lockbox. Don’t trust banks.” He smiled. “And of course you’ve got a set. I suggest you find a good place to hide ‘em. I got the feeling shit’s getting ready to hit the proverbial fan, ladies.”

  “Well, doesn’t that just make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” Chandler sat back in her beat up office chair, taking a moment to relax. It might be the last minute of peace she’d have for a while.

  Chapter Seven

  Roman twirled the two fingers of bourbon in his snifter between his fingers with expertise. He came from breeding and was all too familiar with the difference between cheap whiskey and fine bourbon. The angel’s share and the devil’s cut. In an ironic way, it described the man’s personality. He breathed in deeply, taking a moment to savor the rich scent of the expensive liquor. Bourbon was an experience to be relished, much like the woman he’d questioned this morning. She was so different from the women he was used to being around, or rather the women his mother was always trying to convince him to marry. He was sick of their high tinkling voices and their fake laughs. Women who would marry men for money knowing they would have mistresses; as long as the money rolled in and the prestige blanketed them they would turn a blind eye. Fake. It disgusted him. He wanted more. He wanted the fire he saw in that woman this morning. He chuckled when he thought about the way she hadn’t given him the time of day. Hell, she hadn’t even noticed his Rolex or his bespoke suit that normally left gold diggers salivating.

  He was a man given to the finer things in life. He exuded a kind of class that comes only to those whom have it innately, one that can’t be learned or mimicked. He’d been born into it, and he would carry its traits throughout his lifetime with a natural ease that other men only wished they possessed. He was sickened by the baggage that came with it, though. He needed something real. Chandler had a down to earth realness in her that couldn’t be faked. He’d seen the mean girls from the private schools and then in the private universities, the ones who said and did all the right things to your face and then stuck a dagger in your back when things didn’t go their way. Spoiled. He guessed Chandler wasn’t the type of woman who had a hidden agenda in relationships. He was tired. The kind of tired that got down in your bones and wore you down. Tired of the social events and all the bullshit that went with them. He was tired of the whitewashed tombs filled with dead men’s bones; the Bobby Ed Bivens of the world. Over the years he’d witnessed business men turn a blind eye to less than scrupulous dealings. The time to acknowledge said behavior was when it came to light, then all bets were off and all ties severed. There was no love lost in the land of the affluent, and there damn sure wasn’t any loyalty. He was looking for something real, and up until now, it had been an elusive search. Something about Chandler had awoken a need in him.