Page 77 of Devil's Dilemma

I don’t miss the glance exchanged between the two men.

“Mel,” Pyro leans around the head rest, “I’ll probably go on a bike if Red’s got one to spare. Easiest way to get through the Vegas traffic.”

“I can get you a bike easy enough,” Red agrees.

“Well, can I have a car then? It makes sense for me to go looking.”

Again looks go between them, and Pyro just says, “We’ll see,” making me bristle and feel like I’m a child.

Though, I think as I sit back grumpily, they may have a point. I can’t ride on Pyro’s bike, and I’ve no idea where I’ll be going in this unfamiliar city. I’ll end up aimlessly driving around. Even if I do see Skull, finding a place to park a car isn’t as easy as pulling a bike off to the side. From the way the traffic’s already starting to build up around us, I’ll need my eyes on the road, not to be scanning the sidewalks on either side. Still, much as it makes sense for me to be the little woman at home waiting for news, I won’t be happy doing it.

“Mel?” Pyro calls my name to get my attention. “We find him, we’ll bring him back to the compound. You’ll have the chance to speak to him face-to-face. You deserve his explanation.”

“Same as the club,” Red adds. “Fucker walked out, and he better have a fuckin’ good reason for that.”

Off in the distance, I can see buildings which I suspect are the hotels and casinos around the strip, but Red skirts around the centre, so I don’t see them up close. It makes me wish I was here under happier circumstances and could enjoy Vegas with Pyro beside me as my man.

The best I can hope for is that we find the needle in the haystack we’re searching for and that Skull has an explanation that we can accept and provides me with closure. Then, that he rescinds any claim to me even if the club allows him to stay as a member, so I can truly be with Pyro instead.

Eventually we draw up at the compound. It’s scruffy on the outside, and the inside looks tired, the couches, chairs and tables all having seen better days. Apart from the age of the furniture and the nicotine-stained walls, the clubroom itself isn’t too different from that in Pueblo. There’s a bar, pool tables and presumably because we’re in Vegas, a one-armed bandit with flashing lights.

Music is playing loudly. There are scantily clad women hanging around which doesn’t surprise me, and an older woman behind the bar which does. The men’s faces might be unfamiliar, but the cuts and general uniform of jeans and tees are the same as in the club I’ve just left. There at the bar are the three men who rode up yesterday.

I give a little wave of my hand when Judge turns and catches sight of us. Pyro wastes no time leading me over to them, nor in exchanging greetings after the obligatory back slaps and hugs.

“Anything?”

“Nah.” Sparky gets right down to business. He pulls a piece of paper toward him. Peering around Pyro I can see it’s a printout of a map of the city, part of which is circled in highlighter pen. “This is the area we’re concentrating on. There’s a grocery store as we hoped with the same logo that was on the bag Skull was carrying. There’s a residential area here.” He lays his finger on the map. “Trouble is, if he stocked up on the weekend, he might not be back for a few days, even if he does live somewhere close by.”

“You been inside?”

“Yeah. Showed his picture to the cashiers, but it’s a twenty-four-hour place with lots of staff on short-hour contracts. Manager chased us out when we asked who was working on Saturday afternoon.”

“Got Keys trying to hack into the security cameras in the area to see if he can find any trace of where the fucker might have been headed after he left the store.”

“Twister.” Pyro turns and exchanges a man hug with the owner of the new voice. Then to me, he explains, “Mel, this is the Vegas equivalent of Mace.”

Ah. The enforcer.

Twister gives me a nod, then continues to Pyro, “At least there was a time stamp on the photograph which gives him a place to start.”

“I’m Rosa.” The woman behind the bar comes over. She doesn’t look like a whore and must be in her late forties or early fifties. I wonder which biker she’s with, but don’t bother to ask her, it wouldn’t provide information as I’ve only met two of the local men so far.

She lifts the bar flap and comes out. “Red asked me to get you a room sorted. Want me to show you up?”

Overhearing, Pyro gives me a nod of encouragement. I don’t want to leave him, I’d rather stay here and listen to his conversation instead, but I suspect he knows I’m tired after the flight and even though I’m eager for information, at the moment I need to think of myself, as well as the precious cargo I’m carrying, and rest. That he does understand is clear when he mouths,I’ll fill you in later.

The flare in my eyes signals that he better. Then I reach down to lift one of the bags Pyro had brought in with him, mine, but a bellow shouted by Twister summons a prospect instead who quickly takes it from me, picking up Pyro’s as well.

“Thanks, Owl,” Rosa says to the prospect wearing thick-rimmed glasses as he drops the bags outside a door we’ve approached.

When she opens it, it’s clear we’ve ousted a resident, belongings have been scooped up and piled on the floor. But the bed looks freshly made and comfortable.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, I’m afraid.”

An inconvenience, but I’m in no position to complain. I’m just grateful to have somewhere to lay my head. I’d prefer to be here in the thick of the action, rather than try to keep track remotely from an anonymous hotel. “Thank you for putting us up. We’ll hopefully only be here a couple of days.” The sooner they find Skull, sooner we can get back home.

I feel strangely disorientated. Everything’s happened so fast it’s like the shock of losing Skull all over again.

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