Page 30 of Necessary Evil
She hated that she missed the rasp of Evan’s beard and the low rumble in his voice. She shivered and pulled her wrap over her shoulders. Evan had had his chance and he’d blown it…hadn’t he? The fact that she wasn’t sure was disconcerting.
“How was your week?” Travis asked, and they made polite small talk until the waiter came to take their order.
Lucy went with the lasagna, and he ordered the shrimp fra diavolo. It was a pleasant enough date, if a little unexciting. But she pasted on a smile and laughed in the right places. She kept a firm grip on her wandering thoughts, refusing to let herself compare Travis to Evan.
“So, how well do you know Evan Villiers?” Travis asked.
Lucy nearly choked on her wine. Had she accidentally sighed his name or something? “Not well,” she said. “We met in court a few times. We know each other socially. Why?”
Oh, please let me not have done something dumb.
“He seemed rather possessive of you at the picnic.”
Lucy shrugged and made a face. “I think he’s like that with everyone.”
Travis shook his head. “He’s different with you.”
“If you say so.” If by different, you mean a complete tease. He’d gotten her all excited and then walked away unaffected. The more Lucy thought about that, the more pissed off she became. She knew he wasn’t indifferent to her. So the question was, what was she going to do about it? Lucy didn’t make a habit of chasing men, but maybe in Evan’s case she should make an exception. The only thing she had left to lose was her pride. Drumming her fingers on the table, Lucy looked up in surprise, realizing she’d missed what Travis had just said. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you know what a one percent motorcycle club is?”
“Yeah,” Lucy said. “Outlaws. Like the Hell’s Angels or the Pagans.”
“Have you ever had a member for a client?”
Lucy sipped her wine—it was delicious—and thought for a moment. “No. Not unless they weren’t wearing their colors. Why?”
“I think that Evan Villiers, aka Evil, is trying to put together an outlaw motorcycle club.”
Lucy laughed until she realized he was serious. “That’s ridiculous. A former cop?” She shook her head. “No way. How are you even coming up with that?”
“The founding members have a diverse and powerful background. Josh Lehmen is former Special Forces. Morgan Wallace used to be a prison guard at Rikers. And Ryder Brooks worked as a field agent for the Central Intelligence Agency.”
She knew Josh was Sentinel, so Morgan must be Warden. Lucy leaned forward and gestured with her breadstick. “Those all seem like the good guys to me. Evan would never deal drugs or guns. He went out of his way to put the bad guys behind bars. Just because they ride motorcycles doesn’t mean they’ve suddenly become criminals.”
Travis poured them both more wine. Lucy should have stopped him, because the buzz from the wine was making her more pissed off than she should be. “I’ve heard them call themselves the Sentinels of Babylon,” he noted.
She waved her hand. “That was a kid thing.”
“They own a dive bar. It would be a perfect breeding ground for a sinister element.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Only if by sinister you mean they don’t cater to hipsters who just want a fruity IPA. Seriously, Travis, you’re stretching.”
The waiter arrived with their meal, interrupting the conversation. The food smelled like heaven, and Lucy concentrated on eating before Travis could say anything else that would ruin her dinner.
“There’s been some strange things going on lately, and I think Evil may be involved.”
“What kind of things?” she asked around a mouthful of food.
“Deaths. Murders of people accused of a crime or about to be arrested.”
Lucy stopped chewing. Murder? It didn’t ping as impossible as selling drugs or guns. But just because you wanted to kill someone, it didn’t mean you’d actually do it. “If Evan wanted to break the law, why would he quit the force?” In Lucy’s opinion, it would have been easier to hide while he was on the inside…unless Internal Affairs had a bug up their ass about him.
“Is there a common theme to these murders to make you suspect it’s not random?” she asked before Travis could answer her previous question.
“All the murders were done very professionally. Precise.”
There was that chill again, and she tugged her wrap tighter. “Like Special Forces or CIA?” Lucy went back to the lasagna. It was too good to waste.