Chasing Claire (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) (22 page)

But all the local chapters had remained on alert, waiting to see what the fallout was going to be from Manny’s mother. Since Manny’s death, there had been rumblings about family disagreements. Manny had been Luisa Sievas’s son.

Reno knew all about Luisa Sievas.

When that whole thing went down with Manny, the brothers did their homework. They wanted to be absolutely sure that if any blowback hit, they would know who they were dealing with.

Prosper had his associates do some checking into the whole Sievas family. It was important to know just how deep those family ties went with Lucius. Turns out those family roots had rotted years ago, and Lucius was fine with however Prosper had wanted to handle things.

That was a start.

But Reno had also done some digging on his own.

And it was a good thing he had. Because if the shit ever did hit the fan, Reno knew that Manny’s mother could be a serious problem.

A very serious problem.

Yeah, Reno had a big ol’ file on Manny’s mama.

Like so many others, Lucius and his sister, Luisa, had emigrated from Mexico to the United States as children. Apparently, they had spent their childhood in the Liberty City section of northwest Miami. That information was telling in itself. Reno and the brothers had made a run through Miami a couple of years ago, and they had learned all about Liberty City. The hard way.

Reno could not even imagine growing up on those mean streets. It was not exactly what you would call a kid-friendly environment.

To make matters worse, Lucius and Luisa had grown up on 15th Avenue, also known as the Street of Death. Luisa had been the oldest of five children. When she was fifteen, her mother had died of hepatitis C, the kind brought on by shared dirty needle usage. Luisa and her brothers moved in with an aunt who had three kids of her own. Apparently, Tia Rosalie had a serious blow problem and a predisposition to being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Almost a year to the day after Luisa and her brothers moved in with her, the aunt died in a drive-by shooting.

By then, Luisa had become involved with a member of the John Doe gang. Prince Charming moved his woman and her four brothers into a five-room apartment, and in the next eight years gave her four sons.

In a clean sweep that ended the reign of the notorious gang, Luisa’s baby-daddy was sent away. A couple of weeks after that, she threw her brothers out on the street saying she couldn’t feed them anymore. Over the next couple of years, she spent a whole lot of time in and out of psychiatric units. Luisa’s sons spent most of their childhood in foster care and, later on, in juvenile detention centers. Luisa survived by dealing, whoring, and working the system. It was rumored that for a while, she had been a mule for a small cartel. Eventually, she had proven herself to be too crazy even for the Colombians and was cut loose.

Over the years, she had somehow managed to form her own business partnerships and now ran a small, but serious, drug business.

In short, Luisa Sievas was one dangerous, psychotic lunatic. The file that Reno had on her was as thick as a shithouse brick. No doubt about it, she was the force behind some pretty heinous crimes. Over the years, her name had been linked with every offense imaginable. One of the worst was the shooting of a child.

Reportedly, Sievas had gone after a former associate because he had made some unflattering remarks about her family values. She sent her crew out to hit him while he drove home from his son’s Little League game. The two idiots missed the father, but shot the son. They put two bullets in the side of the seven-year-old boy’s skull right through his Little League cap. Word had it that when her goons reported back, she was furious that they had missed the target. But when she found out that they had hit the son instead, she was glad. She said that maybe burying his son would show the guy a thing or two about family values.

Whatever the hell that meant.

Yep, that bitch was just about as black hearted and soulless as you get. She was not someone that Reno had any intention of messing with. But if Prosper hadn’t stepped up and taken the blame for Luisa Sievas’s son’s death, Reno would have. He didn’t want that psycho killer blowing back her crazy ideas of revenge at Claire.

It would take a band of brothers to handle that kind of insanity.

But so far it had been quiet.

CHAPTER 34

R
eno?” Dolly stood in back of the SUV.

“Yeah, Ma?” Reno pulled back from his thoughts, but out of habit he scanned the city cemetery. The place was pretty quiet. A couple of cars sat a few roads over and there was a brown utility van parked on the road closest to them. About a half dozen or so people filled the area. Some were tending to the graves, while others paid respect to their loved ones. It was exactly what you would expect at a cemetery. Reno didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Will you open this for me, honey?”

Reno moved to his mother’s side and unlocked the back for her. Then he leaned in and grabbed the picnic basket.

“Jesus, Ma, what do you have in here?” Reno groaned as his bicep leaped out from under his T-shirt.

Dolly looked perplexed for a moment. Then she laughed. “ I brought some of the prettier rocks in from the garden. I thought that they would look nice against the shamrocks.”

“And you packed them in with the food?” Reno looked at her like she had lost her mind.

“No, honey. Rocks are in the picnic basket. Food is in the duffle bag in the back.” Dolly reached behind him.

Reno raised an eyebrow at her.

Dolly laughed at the expression on his face.

“Ma, picnic baskets are for food, duffle bags are for shit like sweaty gym clothes. I ain’t eating corned beef that smells like dirty socks.” Reno grimaced.

“Oh, relax. The food’s wrapped up tighter than Fort Knox. Besides my socks don’t smell and I don’t sweat at the gym. I do a leisurely pace on the treadmill while reading my magazines. You know that.”

Yeah, Reno had to give it to her. His mom, with her perfectly polished nails and her carefully arranged hair, had never been the
sweat at the gym
type.

“I packed the rocks in the picnic basket because it has a sturdier bottom. Now stop complaining and do what your mother tells you to do.” Dolly grabbed a few of the lighter things, but left everything else for her son to carry.

Reno settled the picnic basket down near the vehicle and carried the chairs and the rest of the stuff over the perfectly trimmed lawn for his mother.

“When are we moving in?” Reno started to set up the chairs. New this year was a little portable camping table.

“Oh, hush, Reno.” But she couldn’t help but grin. Reno was right. Every year she added something new to their time with Petey.

“Hey, Ma? What do you say that next year we just dig Dad up and bring him on home?” Reno teased. “It would be a helluva lot less work, and you always pack up half of the house to bring over here anyway.”

Dolly took a swat at her son.

Then, ignoring him, she reached out and lovingly dusted a fine layer of dirt from her husband’s headstone. Reno watched as his mother muttered softly to herself, or maybe she was spouting off some bullshit to his father. It had been years, but Reno never could get used to Dolly’s little graveside chats.

Reno looked around the cemetery again. He squinted his eyes and frown lines formed between his brows. He reached a hand up
to rub the tight cords on the back of his neck. When he did, he felt the fine hairs on his skin rise up. Maybe all that thinking about the Sievas bitch had spooked him.

He just could not shake the feeling that something was headed his way.

And it wasn’t something good.

Still seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Reno reached into his pocket, grabbed himself a smoke, lit up, drew deep, and relaxed. He thought about Claire and smiled. She would be in class by now. He was so damn proud of her. She was really kicking it with this whole college thing. Then Reno thought about the million other things that he had to do today before he went to pick up Claire, and he heaved a sigh. He didn’t want to rush his mother, but he didn’t have the whole day to spend either.

He finished the smoke, grabbed the watering can and went to go fill it.

As he did, some nagging instinct caused him to look around again at the quiet graveyard. The cars had left and with them had gone the graveyard visitors. The birds had even stopped singing.

What was it that he had heard Raine say when she was spooked?

Something wicked this way comes
.

When Reno’s mother called out to him, he almost jumped out of his goddamn skin.

Jesus. What the fuck was wrong with him? It was midmorning on a warm Monday. In Reno’s experience nothing bad ever happened on Mondays.

He tried to pay attention as his mother chatted on happily, but the uneasiness that Reno felt did not leave him. On the contrary, it actually started to grow. He looked around the cemetery again. And again Reno carefully scrutinized the landscape.

His eyes settled on the brown utility van to his immediate left. It was empty and had been there since they had arrived. Except for
him and his mother, the cemetery was now deserted. The thought nagged at him.

Dolly and Reno chatted loudly and appeared to make themselves busy planting shamrocks and flowers, but actually Reno’s mind was going a mile a minute. In his mind’s eye, he saw each gardening tool as a potential weapon and gauged their effectiveness at close range.

Just in case.

He fought the urge to reach back into his waistband for his piece. Then he remembered that it wasn’t there anyway. The brothers rarely felt the need to sport a weapon these days. No one wanted to risk a criminal charge of carrying concealed if they didn’t have to. But Reno sure as hell wished he had his piece with him now. Because even though there was still no sign of a threat, the air was charged with a tension that he could not explain. He just could not shake it. He looked from the Escalade to his mother. Maybe they should just get the fuck in the car and take off. But the Escalade was several yards away and parked in a place that was totally unsheltered. If his instincts were right, that move would make the two of them open targets.

Reno needed a minute to think.

Maybe he was just being a paranoid asshole. Claire had accused him of that more than once. Not the asshole part, but the paranoid part for sure. He had to admit that he did get a little crazy when it came to her safety. But Claire was not here today and if he followed her rationale, he should be paranoia-free. Maybe the van had broken down or maybe it belonged to some homeless family who camped out in it all night. Who the fuck knew?

Reno only knew that it didn’t feel right.

When Dolly murmured something to her son, Reno turned to look at her.

“Van? On the left? Is that what’s got you so spooked, Reno?”

So his mother had felt it too.

Reno nodded his head once.

Then Dolly said loudly “Son, can you hand me that picnic basket? I’m just about parched.”

Dolly was a quick thinker. Especially where the safety of her son was concerned. If Reno was spooked, then Dolly was spooked. Besides, she had clearly felt it too, the shift in the wind, the quieting of the bird songs, and that uneasy feeling that signaled that something was not quite right.

Although Dolly didn’t want her son to leave the shelter of the headstone, her sixth sense told her that they might need that basket. The tightly woven container filled with rocks might be something that could be used as shield if they needed it. If it came down to it, they didn’t really have anything else to defend themselves with. From behind the safety of the headstone, Dolly also took out two of the thick Guinness bottles. They could always be smashed and the jagged edge of the bottles could be used as weapons.

Damn it.

It was the one and only time Dolly wished her son was carrying. She never liked it when Reno came to visit her with that weapon stuck in his back. They had had more than a few arguments over it.

In Dolly’s mind, carrying a gun was just asking for trouble. And not only from law enforcement. Live by the gun, die by the gun. As much as Dolly hated that old adage, she had lived to see it proven true time and time again.