One That Came Back Page 8

  “Do I have to wave a fucking white flag? My baby’s ailing here and I can’t afford to lose her.”

  Luke walked over to the bike. He whistled as he looked over the bike. “What is it? A 2007 Sportster?” His interest in the bike outweighed the trouble of the rival club.

  “Yeah, it was my old man’s.”

  “You mean your old lady’s,” joked one of the other guys on a bike.

  “Silencio,” hissed the Rojos.

  Luke knelt beside the bike to examine it while the Rojos had it idling. “I’ve a 2009 Sportster,” Luke explained, “one of the pearl orange ones. It’s a bike made for speed like yours.” He straightened and tapped the handlebar. “But your baby’s eight years old and looks like it can use some deep maintenance, a little more than changing the oil and brakes. Hop off and I’ll take it into the bay.”

  “No fuckin’ way. No one rides my bike but me.”

  “And your mechanic. Insurance says either me or one of my employees takes it into the bay. Or you’ll have to take it somewhere else.”

  The guy shook his head. “No, man. They call me Pez.”

  “Pez, eh?”

  “Yah, cuz the hombre can’t keep his mouth shut.”

  “Who’s talking, eh, cabron?”

  Reluctantly, the man got off his bike. Luke stuck out his hand. “My street name’s Spade.”

  “Spade, eh? For a white guy like you?”

  “Tal vez no tan blanco,” said Luke.

  “Como?”

  “My mom was French, from Hispaniola, though my dad was Mexican.”

  “So how you end up here, ese?”

  “Bad luck,” said Luke with a smile.

  The Rojos laughed. “I can see that.” Pez slapped him on the back. “I like you, man.”

  Luke settled into the saddle of the bike. “I’ll take her in then. You can go in the office and wait there. Or there’s a coffee shop over in the next lot.”

  “No fuckin’ coffee. I want to watch the work.”

  “Then open the door to the shop, just don’t step in.” He shrugged. “Insurance, again.”

  “No necesita esperar para mí. Te llamare,” said Pez to his companions.

  With some grumbling the Rojos rode off.

  Luke might not like the Rojos in general, but this guy Pez seemed all right. Luke watched him walk toward the office and caught the territory name off the man’s bottom rocker on his cut.

  Bridgeport.

  Well, fuck, Luke thought. Bridgeport to Westfield was a forty mile trip one way. Bridgeport was once a large manufacturing center, but now it was riddled with poverty and decay. To the people of nice, safe, middle-class Westfield it was another county. It was highly unlikely the man showed up of his own volition. The message was clear. Someone sent him here.

  Why?

  With Pez watching him through the open door, Luke pulled the Sportster in the bay closest to the entrance and put it on the lift. He pulled it up slightly so he could get a good look all around and didn’t see where the leak could be. Pez was right. It was a hidden leak.

  “George, go over to the barber shop next to the coffee shop and ask if I can borrow a can of talcum powder.”

  “Talcum powder?”

  “Just do it, George.”

  “Sure, Luke.”

  While Luke waited for George, he cleaned out the gunk at the bottom of the engine with spray engine cleaner, wiping it away with a clean soft cloth. When George returned, Luke put a small amount of powder in his hand and blew a fine mist of it over the bottom of the engine. Lowering the bike he started the engine and let it idle.

  Pez looked at him with disbelief and called out, “You gonna fix my bike with barber powder? What? Want to give it a sexy smell?”

  “Just give it some time.” The minutes ticked tensely by as the engine idled and no oil appeared. The engine was almost getting too hot to idle. Then a small dark spot appeared on the white talcum. Luke almost sighed in relief and turned off the engine. “Here it is. It isn’t engine oil at all. It’s gear oil from your tranny that's slipping out from the clutch cable. No wonder your mechanic couldn’t find it.”

  “No, pendejo. My mechanic did. So what’ll it cost to fix it?”

  “It’s mostly labor. We have a two-hour minimum.” Luke did the math. “Two hundred fifty bucks.”

  “I see.” Pez grimaced.

  Luke realized the man couldn’t afford it. He glanced at the shop clock. Damn, Saks was late, again. He would have to do this repair himself. That wasn’t a problem, but he worried what would happen if one of his regular customers came in and saw the outlaw biker in his office.

  What the fuck you worried about, Wade? he said to himself. Isn’t that what the Spawn are becoming? It was true. He knew it. This man was sent here to find out how much. Everything Luke said and did was being evaluated. This biker must be highly respected by state leadership if he was sent to do this reconnaissance.

  Luke wiped his hands with a clean towel. “I’ll tell you what. This’ll take me an hour if I have no distractions. I’ll give you a one-time only friends and family discount if you tell people what a good job I did. Say a hundred twenty-five.”

  “All I have to do is say nice things about you?” Pez arched an eyebrow.

  “Not me. You can call me a pendejo if you want. Just say that Luke Wade is a pendejo, but he’s a wizard at fixing bikes.”

  The man relaxed, taking Luke’s meaning. Luke didn’t expect to be exonerated from the Rojos’ thinking of him.

  Pez chuckled. “I think I can handle that, pendejo.”

  “Good.” Luke turned back to the bike and went to work right away. He worked steady to take off the tranny box, clean it out, replace the seals and fill it back with gear oil. The work was nearly finished when Pepper walked into the bay from the back garage door and stopped short when he saw the Rojos watching his boss work.

  “Pez, Pepper. Pepper, Pez,” said Luke, waving an Allen wrench he was using to put the tranny box back together. He then fixed it back onto the bike with sure, swift turns of his wrench. “Okay, that does it. All it needs is a test run.”

  “Naw,” said Pez. “I’ve got to run. Thanks, man. I’ll run by the cash to you next Friday.”

  Pepper stared at Pez, knowing that Luke only delivered a bike when payment was made.

  “Okay,” said Luke, which caused Pepper’s eyes to nearly bug out. “But Friday it is, or I’ll put a curse on it and you’ll find out I’m not a wizard but a voudin. Because you know what they practice on Hispaniola.”

  “Don’t worry, ese. You’ll have your cash.”

  Luke rolled the bike out to the parking lot and handed it over to Pez, who started it and raced off.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” Pepper came up behind him.

  “I don’t know, but I think I just got Central Valley Bike Repair declared neutral ground.” He slapped Pepper on the shoulder. “Not bad for a morning’s work, eh?”

  “Fuck, no,” said Pepper in awe.

  “Good. Now get on that bagger. And put George on the pig. The man’s nearly useless with the bikes anyway.” Luke looked at the shop’s clock again and sighed. “It looks like Saks won’t be in today.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Amanda Dougherty's Secret

  After she left Angela’s, Emily turned to the one person she could talk to. She sat in Mrs. Diggerty’s kitchen eating a chocolate chip cookie the woman had just made. Reger rubbed up against her legs now, enjoying privileges in both apartments. In the past three months he ran back and forth between them begging for food and getting fat while he did so. Once Emily and Mrs. Diggerty compared notes they agreed to each give Reger half a small can each day, Emily in the morning and Mrs. Diggerty at night.

  Emily felt more confused than earlier. No matter how she turned the thoughts over in her head she couldn’t come up with an answer. She knew she had to tell her parents, but wanted to talk to someone about everything before she did. It was easy for her to tal
k to her landlady because the dear woman never judged her, unlike her parents.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said. “I don’t know if I can raise it alone.”

  Mrs. Diggerty set a teacup for Emily, and herself. She sat down and poured the tea from a pot sitting on the table.

  “Why couldn’t you adopt out your child?” Mrs. Diggerty said as she sat in the chair opposite Emily. “There are thousands of parents who desperately want a child.”

  “I can’t bear the thought of giving up this child, but on the other hand, I don’t know.” She stared at the steam lifting off her tea. “It’s not that he or she wouldn’t have a good home. I just feel a connection to this baby. He’s…” Emily let the words trail as tears welled in her eyes.

  “Because he’s part of someone you love,” said Mrs. Diggerty gently.

  “Yes,” Emily whispered.

  “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But I think there is one thing for sure. You shouldn’t make a decision until you talk to the father.”

  Emily looked up at the ceiling and sucked in a breath. “I already know what he’ll say. He made it clear he didn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

  “You know, sweetheart. I can’t believe that. I remember that day he sat on the porch waiting for you. I’d never seen a young man look so anxious.”

  “You saw him?”

  “When I came in from an errand, yes. I asked who he was, and he told me. He even asked if I thought you’d like the flowers he brought.”

  “He did?” Emily fingered the necklace he gave her that day. She’d never taken it off.

  “Yes. And I tell you, love was shining in his eyes when he spoke your name. You couldn’t miss it.”

  “Well, he doesn’t love me now,” she said with bitterness in her voice. “Things change.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But it’s his child too. He may want to help you for the baby’s sake. Hell, you can make him help you, if you take him to court.”

  Emily’s head shot up at the sounds of her little old landlady swearing. If she wasn’t so stressed, she’d have laughed. “I could never make someone do something if they didn’t want to. Plus, I’ve had enough of courts.”

  “That’s your pride talking,” Mrs. Diggerty said.

  “Maybe it is,” admitted Emily. “But you don’t know what he was like the last time I saw him. He was so… cold.” She lowered her head as the shame she felt when he left her that day in the funeral home office washed over her again.

  “I don’t pretend to understand men, Emily. But right is right. You have to give him a chance.”

  “Well, I have other people I should tell first. I need time to think.”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  When Emily got her bail money back from the court she bought a car. She’d searched for a month on Internet ad sites and after looking at a few clunkers, she found the perfect one for her. It was a fifteen-year-old black Sebring, but the original owner had taken good care of it. The paint was flawless and the metal rims were as shiny as the day it rolled out of the factory. She could hardly believe her luck when her mechanic told her he’d never seen an older car in such good shape. She bought it immediately and considered herself lucky she didn’t have to make a car payment, especially since she didn’t have a job.

  Her parents’ home was set on the corner of two streets. The driveway sat on the left-hand side of the house, with hedges lining either side of it. She entered through the side door of the house, to the kitchen. She heard voices and her stomach tightened again. It sounded like both her parents were home.

  With a sigh she walked through the bright and perpetually clean kitchen into the dining room. She followed the voices to the living room and stopped short.

  “What’re you doing here?” She thought she was going to faint.

  Evan looked up at her, his expression all innocence. Why the hell would her parents let him in?

  “I was just telling your mom here that I’d do the right thing.”

  “What?” Emily yelled. She looked toward her mother, whose face was blanched white.

  “You’re pregnant!” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “How could you? This is not how you were raised.”

  “Evan has no business being here! Or telling you I’m pregnant!” This was not bloody happening. This had to be some kind of a nightmare.

  “But Emily, if he’s the father—”

  “He’s NOT the father!” Emily clenched her fists. “Get the hell out of here, Evan Waters!”

  Evan stood, crossing his arms over his chest, a triumphant look on his face. “You can’t keep ignoring me, Emily. Especially now.”

  “OUT!” Emily was so upset she was shaking. She pointed to the door with her finger.

  “I’ll demand a paternity test.”

  “Demand all you want. You’re delusional, especially if you think this child has anything to do with you!”

  Evan sighed dramatically. He smiled kindly at her mom. “I’m sorry she’s so upset. It must be the hormones.” He moved to the front door. “I’ll talk to you soon, Mrs. D.”

  “You WILL not!” yelled Emily.

  “We’ll talk to you when you’re not so upset.” Evan walked quickly to the door and let himself out.

  Emily was breathing hard, almost hyperventilating. “I can’t believe him! I can’t believe you! Why would you let him in?”

  “Emily, are you going to tell me what is going on?”

  She stomped over to her mother. “Evan got it half right, but only because he saw me buying a pregnancy test. Yeah, I’m pregnant. But hell no! Not by Evan Waters!” She couldn’t believe her mother had freakin’ let him into the house. How messed up was this family?

  “Who then?” Her mother’s face was drawn tight. “Not that Wade boy.”

  “Man, mother! Luke’s a man.” She’d never been this angry before. She couldn’t believe life could be this ridiculous. “And he’s the father.”

  “How can you be sure?” said her mother, biting her pinky.

  “Because I’m not the fuck up you think I am,” she shouted. “I slept with Luke. Period. End of story.”

  “But you aren’t seeing him anymore.”

  “You’re just filled with stunning insights, aren’t you?”

  “Emily! Don’t talk to me like that. And stop swearing.”

  “Then don't talk to me like I’m an idiot, mother. I’m not. I may have made a mistake—”

  “It’s a very big mistake.”

  “Again, I’m not stupid. I realize the gravity of the situation. I would hope that my mother would, at least, be understanding. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

  “But you’ve sinned, Emily. You broke one of the Ten Commandments.”

  Really? “Sins can be forgiven, mother. Insensitivity cannot.”

  “Insensitive? You think I’m insensitive?” Her mother’s voice went up an octave.

  “I’m pregnant! I’m terrified. And all you can think about is my sin?” Her mother’s mouth dropped open but Emily continued, “Why did you want to keep me away from Luke? Why were you so against him?”

  “I was only trying to protect you! So you wouldn’t go through what I did.”

  “What?” said Emily, walking toward her mother. “What did you go through?”

  Her mother rose. “Like you. Pregnant. The boy didn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

  Emily stared at her mom, her brows pressed together. Her heart suddenly sped and the room spun. She rested a hand on the back of a chair. “Wait, are you telling me, Dad isn’t my dad?”

  “Don’t you start that Emily Rose Dougherty! In all the ways that count, he’s your father. He’s loved you like his own from the day you were born.”

  Could today get any more shocking? Except, in a weird way, it made sense. But still!!! “Who’s my father?” When her mother didn’t answer, Emily raised her voice. “Who’s my father?!”

  “It
doesn’t matter. He’s in prison. He won’t be out for a long time.”

  “What? Prison?” Who’s the friggin’ sinner now? She wanted to snap at her mom, but bit her lip from saying it out loud when she noticed how her mother was suddenly acting.

  Her mother seemed lost in her own thoughts as she began to pace. “No. I won’t tell you. I promised your father I wouldn’t tell you. You won’t get any more out of me!”

  Emily shook her head, unsure of what to do as she watched her mother seemingly change into someone she didn’t know.

  “Didn’t you ever wonder why you never saw my parents? Your grandparents?” She spun around and paced again, oblivious to the tears running down her face. She threw her hand toward the wall where framed photos hung. “Not even a picture!”

  “You said they died before we were born.”

  Amanda Dougherty shook her head and laughed. “They disowned me, Emily! Kicked me out of the house.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that! You want to talk about insensitive?”

  “Mom,” Emily said quietly. “I never knew. I’m sorry.”

  Amanda snorted. “If it wasn’t for your father, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

  “Oh, mom. That’s the saddest thing I ever heard.”

  Her mother sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “I needed their help, and they turned their back on me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Emily’s own tears began blurring her mother’s face.

  “It’s not your fault, Emily.” She stopped pacing and took a moment to gather herself. “It was mine. I think I took it out on you anyway, a little, by being so strict with you. I thought that if I made sure you were good, nothing would happen to you.”

  “Mom, it doesn’t work like that.”

  “I’m not so sure.” She looked ready to cry again. “We are all punished for our sins.”

  “I’m not punishment.” Could her mother really believe that? She didn’t think so, but after today… she wasn’t sure. “I see this baby—my baby—as a blessing. The timing is just really off.”

  “Maybe.” Her mother sighed but didn’t sound very convinced. She sat down and Emily came over and sat beside her. She gave Emily a strained smile. “Just so you know, Emily. I’ve always loved you and I won’t do to you what my parents did to me.”