The Intuition - Debra Kayn Page 0,7

Speeder checked his cell phone for the time. "I swung by the store before I came here and got J.J. to agree to let Trina work twice a week after school for an hour or two stocking shelves. I'll need to keep her busy, or I'll end up having her around all the time. That's not possible with my work in the cave or at the clubhouse."

Keenan walked around the group, double-checking the locks on the cells. Currently, there were only three participants locked up. The others hadn't survived.

But according to the handler, more men were coming in.

Hank slipped his hands into his pockets. "I need to get back to the RV park."

Speeder walked out with the others. At his Harley, he grabbed Johnny's vest and held him back from leaving. When the others rode away, he faced his MC brother.

"Has Bonnie mentioned the accident?" he asked.

Bonnie worked at The Shack with Johnny. The bicycle rental business was beside the RV park and the landing for where the boats and rafts entered the St. Joe River.

He'd been with Bonnie when the accident had happened.

"She asked how the woman was doing this morning." Johnny sat his Harley. "But she's not the only one concerned. When I stopped in at the diner for coffee, all the locals were talking about the crash."

"We need to stop the talk."

"Why?"

He pulled his skullcap over his head and straddled his bike. "I don't know. I only know the woman is at my house, and it's nobody's business about what happened."

"We don't know what happened."

"Exactly." He gazed at Johnny. "Something is wrong. There was nobody around her when she flipped her car. No other traffic. She wasn't speeding. So, tell me how a car flips going twenty-five miles an hour."

"Maybe she fell asleep at the wheel."

"She wasn't going fast enough." He shrugged. "There was no collision before the car rolled, and she landed in the parking lot. She was at least fifty feet from the riverbank."

Johnny grunted. Speeder toed the kickstand. Trained to pick up the most minute details, he caught Johnny's skepticism.

"I need to get home and deal with her," he said.

"Good luck." Johnny raised his brows before riding off.

Taking his time, Speeder rode down the mountain. He had too much going on to take care of an injured female. It took all his free time to raise his daughter.

Trina had no excuse for missing school. He made sure she got up early enough to make it on time. When he'd asked her about the missed classes, she'd clammed up and refused to answer him.

He had no other ideas on how to get her to open up to him. Hopefully, when he found time to talk to Bonnie, the mother of Zach and Kenny would have an idea of what was going on.

Trina and Zach were friends. They hung out with each other after school and on the weekends.

But first, he needed to clean his house of an unwanted guest.

Cruising through town, he automatically checked the activities happening. At least two hundred tourists milled around Avery Falls. Extra people crowded the street between the store and RV Park.

A group of ATV riders hugged the edge of the road, following the St. Joe River. He rode around them, holding out one finger in the universal code that he was riding alone.

Turning left, he passed the clubhouse. A couple of dozen motorcycles lined the front of the two-story building.

Prez, Ruger, Steven, and Franco stood on the steps in front of the door. They all turned in his direction. He lifted his chin and continued riding, taking the first right and going straight home.

Letting himself in with his key, he stepped inside to the aroma of bacon cooking in the air. His gaze went to the kitchen until he could see inside of the room.

Laurel stood in front of the stove with her back to him. Though she wore the same pair of jeans and shirt she'd worn yesterday. The clothes looked different on her.

The soft material hugged to her ass and showed off the flare at her hips. Her long, straight, brown hair hung down to the middle of her back without a tangle in sight.

In his peripheral vision, Trina raised her arm, taking a bite of pancake. The scene in front of him was like walking into someone else's house.

He stepped forward and tossed his keys on the counter. "What the fuck is going on?"

Laurel whirled around, holding a fork in the air. Her startled expression replaced