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Chapter 4

Rowan

When I came here I didn’t expect to find much on the club. No one knew much so there had to be very limited information to gain in some old construction blueprints. Now I’m at a table by myself surrounded by hundreds of papers. Still, I have gained very little information. According to the blueprints, the building is an empty warehouse with basic electricity and city-regulated smoke systems. Other than that it’s an empty shell of a building. I look through city permits to see if this club possessed them.

There isn’t any. No business licenses or permits for anything let alone alcohol. How haven’t they been shut down yet? This isn’t the first time we’ve been to the club and yet no one has bothered to check for permits? It’s the perfect way to get inside and check the place out. If we happen to see anything that can help with our murder case then it’s a bonus.

I need to tell my partner about this, and since my job is to investigate him it's a requirement for us to work this case together. Except when I think about going back to the club with him on my heels I cringe. He’s a bull in a china store and I can tell this case needs a softer more patient approach. If I want to solve this case I can’t burst into the club guns blazing to get the information I need. No, I need to move slowly.

Also, there’s the woman with the scared eyes. I need to see her again without the pressure of an investigation. She seemed ready to tell me something more, so if I could just get her alone maybe she’d help me. My mind is made up, I need to get back to the club now and try to get inside.

I consider my plan a little longer and come up with a better idea. Going with my gun and badge will put everyone in the club on alert, but sneaking in as a customer would allow me to see more. Which means I’m going to need a change of clothes. I look too much like a cop. The problem is that I don’t own anything that would make me blend in at a club. My job is my life, and there haven’t been many chances for me to go clubbing before now. Even now it’s for the job not pleasure.

Unless I see her…

No. She is a suspect which means I have to keep my thoughts about her objectively.

A rush of heat washes over my body making me grow in my slacks thinking about her and pleasure in the same sentence.

Shit. This isn’t good. I need to keep my head on straight or I could mess this investigation up big time and I haven’t worked this hard to throw everything away for a tumble in the sheets. I can find someone else for that once this case is over. For now, I need help. I take out my phone and scroll down to the number of the only person I trust to help me with this. It takes several rings before she finally answers.

“Rowan? What the fuck? You drop off the map for two weeks and now you want to talk when I’m in the middle of something?” She yells into the phone.

I smirk. “What exactly are you in the middle of?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She says sounding amused.

“I would actually. If you're in trouble I need to know what I’ll be dealing with.” I say only half joking.

This girl gets into so much shit that I have considered charging her every time I help her out of whatever trouble she has gotten into.

“Ro, are you sure you want me to explain what I’m doing squished between two smoking hot bikers? I mean I can go into detail but I know you haven’t seen a naked woman in a while and I don’t think I want you jacking off to my sex life.” She says with a laugh.

A deeper chuckle comes from the background and I hear her scold whoever it is.

“You’re right. I don’t want to know. Also, there is no way in hell my hand would go near my dick any time you share too much about what you do with a harem of bikers.” I shiver in disgust at the idea.

She’s like a sister to me and no man wants to know what his sister gets up to in the bedroom, and I’m no different when it comes to her.

“Alright alright. Hands off boys my little bro needs my help!” She calls out.

There is a chorus of complaints and protests but it slowly fades away like she’s walking into another room.

“How many were there this time? It sounded like a basketball team worth.” I say.

She chuckles. “Not that many, but that’s a new goal I’ll have to keep in mind.”

As much as we joke about it, Maddy is in a solid relationship with said bikers. She met them a year ago during one of her adventures and they convinced her to stay with them for a while. I was shocked when she said they wanted to share her and all be her boyfriends. It’s hard to believe a group of hardened bikers would be willing to share a tiny thing like her. She’s feisty and foulmouthed so maybe that’s what drew them to her. They’re good guys except for the few times Maddy has taken it into her own hands to hand out some MC justice.

Which is when I get called in and have to bail her out. Thankfully there hasn’t been anything too serious I have to get her out of, but it’s enough to be a habit.

“So what can I do for you, Bro?” She asks.

“I need your help with a case.” I’m not exactly sure how to ask her for a makeover without sounding like an idiot.

“Okay, gonna need a little bit more info.” She says with a little laugh.

“I’m investigating a place called The Wonderland Club and I need to go undercover tonight to get a look inside. It has a reputation of being so enjoyable that no one remembers anything the next day other than where the club is and its name.” I blurt out.

She doesn’t say anything. “Hello?”

“Shit.” She hisses and then I hear a commotion and the sound of her guys talking. “Bentley! Come here!”

“Coming fireball.” One of the guys calls out.

“Fucking nicknames. I swear I’m going to kill you all one day and ride off into the sunset with your hogs dragging behind me.” She calls out making them all laugh.

“I am a cop you know.” I remind her.

“Shut up Ro.”

Okay then.

“What’s up, babe?” The guys says once I’m assuming they’re alone.

“You remember the Wonderland Club?” She asks.

“Shit.” He says.

“Why do you guys keep saying that?” I ask getting a little impatient.

“Hang on let me put you on speaker.” She says. “Okay. We’ve heard of that club. One of the girls-“ That part comes out like a growl which makes Bently laugh. “Showed up one night high off her as and babbling about some pretty weird shit. We didn’t think much of it until the next day when she acted like she had no idea what we were talking about. We asked her where she had been and she looked at us like we had been crazy. Again it wasn’t all that weird, but then we noticed some weird symbols and shit on her body. They looked like tattoos. There was one in the shape of a swirl on the back of her neck, and two black circles the size of fangs on the side of her neck. There was also a small flower on the inside of her wrists.”

“Isn’t it normal for biker…ladies to have tattoos? What’s so weird about it?” I ask.

“She was fucking terrified of needles Ro. There was no way in hell she would have let someone tattoo her!” She says sounding scared by the memory.

“She never acted right after that. Eventually, she lost her damn mind and her family had her committed. The docs said her mind fractured and she lost it. They got her so drugged up that she doesn’t even know her name anymore.” Bentley adds.

“Well, shit,” I say.

“Yeah exactly. That place Ro…something isn’t right about it. We don’t let anyone go near that place now.”

“Right. Well, I need to get in. Someone was killed there and I need to find out if anyone in that club has something to do with it. So I need your help with my…outfit.” I finally admit.

I hear Bentley snort and then make a grunt of pain.

“As much as I want to tell you to stay far away from that place, I won’t keep you from doing your job. I’ll be over at six. Oh, and Bentley is going to watch your back. No objections.” She doesn’t leave room for argument.

“I wasn’t going to object. See you guys tonight.”

“See ya.” She ends the call and I blow out a breath.

Here we go…I’m off to Wonderland. Fuck that sounds dumb.

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