Page 84 of Crush's Fall

His partner was more pleasant to look at. His hair was cut in a short, businesslike manner and his face was clean-shaven. His suit seemed to be quality and fit him properly. He looked like a man doing what he was meant to be doing, instead of playing dress up like his partner.

“What can I help you with?” Crush tried hard not to sneer, but it was a struggle.

Detective Wilson dropped his hand to his side and replied, “We’re looking to speak with Kinsley MacDonald. Her last known address is listed as the clubhouse address.”

“She lives here. Let me see if she’s up to talking to you.”

“Up toit?” Detective Wilson’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah.” Crush didn’t elaborate. She wasn’t about to hand information over to them. They could do their jobs and find it out for themselves, but that wasn’t a likely outcome.

“Is she ill?” Detective Kolche asked.

“Something like that.” Crush pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed a number. She put the phone to her ear and waited.

“What’s up, Boss Lady?”

Halo’s voice in her ear sounded normal, which vibed with the condition she found her in earlier. While Halo was sore, she was a tough cookie, and it would take a whole lot more than a douchebag to bring her down for long.

“You up to chatting with a couple detectives? Not sure what they want, but they’re asking for you by name.”

“Damn. Yeah, I guess, since I doubt they’ll listen if we tell them to kick rocks.”

Crush chuckled. “Clubhouse?”

“I’m in the cafeteria. Thought food would be good.”

“See you soon.” Crush ended the call and held out a hand toward the clubhouse. “This way.” Then she made her way up to the front door.

As they walked through the main room of the clubhouse, members from both clubs stood and followed them into the cafeteria. Crush bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the expressions on the detectives’ faces when they noticed they had a tail.

“Can we do this somewhere more private?” Detective Wilson asked.

Crush shook her head. “I won’t force Halo to move more than necessary, and neither will you. This is a public space, so I won’t be ordering anyone out, either.”

“We could demand to bring her in for questioning.”

Crush raised a brow. “Not unless you plan on arresting her. I can have a lawyer here in less than five minutes. Is that going to be necessary, Detective?”

They stopped next to the table where Halo was eating a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of tomato soup. Halo looked up at the Detective and waited for an answer to Crush’s question.

Detective Wilson let out a sigh. “Not yet… unless she wants one.”

Halo nodded to the empty seats across from her. “Would you like to sit down?”

As both detectives sat, they looked around. Crush nearly lost her battle with holding back her laughter when the seriousness of the situation they walked into dawned on them. Behind Halo and Crush stood a large group of Claws and Howlers, all prepared to back Halo if necessary.

“Miss MacDonald,” Detective Wilson began, a slight waiver in his voice, “I’m sorry to have to share this news with you, but… Patrick Aikok was found dead this morning.”

The snort of laughter coming from the group of club members at the mention of Patrick’s last name wasn’t appropriate, but they were bikers. When were they ever appropriate?

Halo stared back at the detectives and, in a monotone voice, uttered, “Oh no. That’s too bad.”

“Weren’t the two of you dating?”

She nodded. “We were until he decided to use me as his favorite punching bag. I decided that wasn’t something I was into.”

“Is that how you were injured?”

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