“How are things over there?” Naveen asked, when I remained silent.
“Summer’s parents are here. Just had to give them the lowdown. Wish I could give them some better news, at least that we have eyes on Sanchuk or something. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them he’s MIA.”
“Huh.”
“What?” I said, picking up on his tone.
“Pardon my bluntness here, but are you falling in love?”
“What? Where the fuck did that come from?”
Said the guy who was totally busted.
“You forget I’m a fool in love myself,” he said. “Know all the signs. And yours have been flashing with all the subtlety of a Vegas strip show for a while now.”
“What signs?”
“You been having trouble sleeping? Worrying about what she’ll think of which way you part your hair? Wondering what kinda babies she’d make?”
“Christ.”
He chuckled. “Cute ones, I’m pretty sure.”
“Let’s get back on track here.”
“Sure. You want someone to take over as her bodyguard, you just say the word.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks.”
“I’ll let Tam know she can start shopping for baby clothes.”
“Too far,” I grumbled, and hung up on him.
I knew what he was doing. Trying to make light of things, ease my frustrations, maybe.
Distract me.
Wasn’t gonna work.
I was frustrated as fuck that we’d been chasing Blair Sanchuk for weeks and he was still in the wind. Naveen had called in to contacts he had in anti-gang task forces all across western Canada, anyone who might’ve been working a case against the Bloody Bastards and may have heard of Sanchuk.
Nothing.
Not one fucking lead.
The man was a ghost.
No, actually, he was a fucking mole. A rat. Piper said as much. He’d tunneled up into the Kings’ territory, and now he’d gone back underground. He’d gone dark.
Made me wonder if this wasn’t just some loser who’d happened into town.
Maybe Blair Sanchuk was way smarter and way more connected than I’d ever wanted to give him credit for.
If I was a member of a criminal organization looking to make inroads into a rival club’s turf, I might play dumb, too. Let people go ahead and underestimate me. Lay low, keep myself off my enemies’ radar.
But at the end of the day, it really didn’t matter to me if Sanchuk was a nobody or not. If he was a genius or dumb as a stump.
All I wanted to know was why he’d come after Summer.
And make damn sure he never did it again.
And waiting around like this, indefinitely, was fucking killing me.
When I headed back out to the living room, Summer was in the sunroom with her parents. She seemed pretty tied up with them. Probably the best opportunity I was gonna get to take off for a bit.
So I called Andre in. He was working an event today, but I pulled him off his post, sent someone to fill in for him, and had him come over to Summer’s so I could leave.
I went to take a quick shower and change into clean clothes, and when Andre arrived, I introduced him to Summer’s parents.
Then I shook hands with them again, looked her father in the eye, and excused myself. I told Summer I had to run over to my office for a bit. I promised not to be gone more than a couple of hours.
Then I pulled my bike out of her garage.
I rode over to my apartment, and I got my gun.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ronan
I rode over to Blair Sanchuk’s last known address, where technically he still rented an apartment, even though he wasn’t living in it.
I found the old apartment block on the edge of the Downtown Eastside. It was a real dive, though I’d hardly expected anything more.
I parked my bike up the block, because if there was any chance Sanchuk was actually here, I didn’t want him to hear me coming. Then I walked up to the building. It had once been white, but the peeling paint and dirt had turned it a mottled gray. It was three stories, and as I walked around the perimeter, it just got worse.
Trash was strewn all over the alley, which reeked of piss and rotten garbage. I saw a used hypodermic needle next to the dumpster. The fire escape was rusted and looked like it might break if I tried to climb it. All the windows were crooked and/or cracked, with mismatched old towels and shirts and whatever tacked up in place of curtains.
One of those buildings that should’ve probably been condemned, but I supposed someone had to live in it. Like maybe if you were new in town and dealing meth, and needed somewhere to lay low a while… Yup. This place fit the bill.
I considered breaking in, because fuck him. He tried to break into Summer’s home. I planned to tear his place apart if I had to.
I had to find something, because this waiting and not knowing shit had gone on long enough.
I wasn’t gonna ask any of my guys to break in for me, though, so here I was.
But… it was broad daylight. There was an old lady across the street, sitting on a stoop and staring at me. Too good a chance of someone seeing me and calling the police. Even in a neighborhood like this.
So I walked right up to the front door. There was an old security panel with a buzzer system, but no intercom. Just a bunch of faded labels next to worn buttons. One of them actually said Caretaker.
As if anyone actually took care of this dump?
I pressed the button. I couldn’t hear anything, but I waited.
Eventually, a rail-thin guy who could’ve been anywhere from mid-twenties to late thirties came to the door. His clothes were stained and worn, and he looked like neither his skin or his soul had ever seen the sun.
“What?” he barked as he opened the door.
I cut right to it, because obviously there was no need finessing this guy. “How much is it gonna cost me to get access to apartment two-ten?”
He stared
