Page 95 of Golden Touch
Ten minutes later, a cruiser rolls up with Livia in the passenger seat. I run toward the car, and as soon as it stops, she opens the door and launches herself into my arms.
I catch her. “Good job, baby.” I rest my chin on her shoulder. “You schooled him.”
“I was so scared,” she says, clinging to me. “So scared, but also so ready.”
“He didn’t win.” I brush dirt off the back of her jacket. “You brought down his criminal empire, and you didn’t even ruin your makeup.”
She laughs. “The first thing he said to me was, ‘You look good.’”
“He isn’t wrong.”
“But aren’t you jealous?” she teases.
“Of a guy wearing handcuffs? Not hardly.”
Livia steps back, her hand on my chest and a playful look in her eye. “But I only call the cops on men that I like.”
We both crack up.
“Hey, kids,” Benito says, crossing the clearing to talk to us. “I’ll need Livia for a debriefing in my office, and then I’m taking her to a safe house for a couple nights. We’re raiding Valkyries clubhouses in four different towns right now. And the good news is thatthisguy wants to talk.” He points to a cruiser where the younger biker—the one who’d accompanied Rotty in the landscaping truck—has been handcuffed.
“I remember him,” Livia says softly. “They call him Kicker. But I don’t know his real name.”
“He’s going to tell us that himself,” Benito says. “He already told me he wants to cut a deal. He said he hates what he was asked to do today—that kidnapping a woman is not what he signed up for. Says he has a baby daughter. So he knows better.”
“Huh,” I say, squinting at the kid through the cruiser’s window. “I guess a little light money laundering is fine for him, but he’s not a fan of violence?”
“Something like that.” Benito smirks. “I have a feeling he’s going to be very helpful.”
“Thank God,” Livia says, leaning into me. “Maybe it won’t just be me testifying against Razor.”
“Exactly,” Benito agrees. “You did great. Nerves of steel.”
Livia smiles down at her boots, like she knows she did well but isn’t quite ready to take the compliment.
“We picked up more of Razor’s friends in the woods behind the Dairy Queen,” Benito adds. “Maybe they don’t want to go to jail for attempted kidnapping, either. I’m hoping for all kinds of cooperation.”
Livia lifts her face to the sky and smiles. “Let ’em squeal like five-year-old girls at a Disney princess birthday party.”
Benito doesn’t laugh at the joke, and after a beat I realize he’s listening to a flurry of activity over the police scanner. We can all hear it through the cruiser’s window. There’s a bunch of police codes I can’t understand, and then the dispatcher says, “Requesting any available backup. Arsonist heading south on foot.”
“What’s going on?” Livia asks, her expression suddenly serious.
“Sounds like a big fire,” Benito says slowly.
“Where?” she asks.
I hear the scanner squawk again. And the disembodied voice gives an address I know all too well. It’s the Giltmaker Brewery.
Later, I won’t remember the drive. I think I gave Livia a quick hug before leaping onto my bike and roaring away. I practically flew back to Colebury.
When I come tearing onto the property, it’s like looking up at a hellscape. The entire south end of the brewery—where the loading dock leads to the brewhouse in the center—is engulfed in flames. Firefighters have surrounded the place with trucks, hoses, and a safety barrier.
In spite of their efforts, the fire is busy licking its way across the roofline toward the office on the north end. Like a hungry beast that won’t quit.
Badger comes running toward me across the gravel lot, and Idrag my gaze away from the burning building to look him over. His face is covered in soot. “Nash! I’m sorry.”
“Jesus. Is anyone hurt?”
