Athena Sisterhood Read online

  “No, not recently. And believe me, when they’re in the neighborhood, you hear them. Those bikes are so loud they shake my windows. But I haven’t heard them in the past few weeks.”

  “Was anyone upset with her that you know of?”

  “Why? You think someone killed her?” Ms. Sakamoto put a hand to her chest. “Why would someone hurt such a sweet soul like Piper?”

  “We’re looking into all possibilities. So she didn’t have a disagreement with anyone?”

  “Honestly, no. Everybody in the neighborhood liked her.”

  Rios finished up her interview notes. “Well, thank you for speaking with me. If you remember anything else you think will help us, please let us know.”

  “Of course.” Ms. Sakamoto wandered slowly into the adjacent yard and disappeared into her house.

  Rios returned to the deceased’s kitchen. “How’s it going, Johnson?”

  “Found a piece of paper tucked inside the book with a list of names and phone numbers.” Johnson handed Rios the paper sealed inside an evidence bag. Only first names and occasionally a last initial were written in multiple hands.

  Rios had seen a similar list before. “Looks like a contact list of people from the victim’s twelve-step groups. My sister used to keep one when she went to NA. You find her cellphone?”

  “Right here.” Johnson handed her an iPhone in a pink protective case. “I haven’t bagged it yet.”

  Rios pressed the power button and was grateful to see that it wasn’t locked. “Looks like her last phone call was 11:07 last night to an Elizabeth S.”

  “We have an Elizabeth S. at the top of the phone list,” said Johnson. “Maybe that’s her sponsor.”

  “Let’s find out.” Rios hit the callback button, then the speaker button.

  “Pipes? Is that you?” asked an alto voice with a thick New York accent.

  “This is Detective Rios with the Cortes County Sheriff’s Office. Is this Elizabeth?”

  “Uh…yeah. How’d you get this number?”

  “It’d be best if I explain in person. Why don’t you meet me at the sheriff’s substation in Ironwood. I can fill you in. Say around three o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Where’s Pipes? And what’re you doing with her phone?”

  “I can answer all your questions at the station. Can I expect you at three?”

  There was a long pause. “I can’t come out there. I’m at work.”

  “I understand. It’s just that Pipes could really use your help right now. She’s your friend, right?”

  “Yeah, she’s my friend. But I can’t just walk outta work, ya know?”

  “Or if you prefer, I can send a patrol car to pick you up. I’d be happy to explain it to your boss. Where do you work?”

  “Naw, no need to send a patrol car. I’ll be there at three.”

  Chapter 14

  When Rios returned to her desk around two in the afternoon, she had a message from the medical examiner’s office stating that Piper Anderson had most likely died between six and eight o’clock that morning.

  She began running reverse lookups on the phone numbers from the victim’s NA contact sheet. A few people on the list had criminal records, usually for possession, DUI, and one with an aggravated assault charge: Elizabeth Schwartz. The case was a few years old and the charges had eventually been dropped.

  Her phone interrupted her train of thought. “Rios here.”

  “Detective, an Elizabeth Schwartz is here to see you.”

  “Thanks, Sergeant. I’ll be right down.” She hung up, grabbed a legal pad and the folders for the related cases, and hustled down to the station lobby.

  Rios immediately recognized Elizabeth Schwartz from her mug shot. She stood six nine with an athletic build, angular cheekbones, and coffee-brown hair tied in a ponytail. Although her physique made her look like she could play for the Phoenix Mercury, her blue Oxford shirt and navy slacks suggested an office job.

  “Elizabeth Schwartz?”

  “Yeah.” The woman crossed the room in a couple of strides and towered over Rios.

  “I’m Detective Rios.” She shook the tall woman’s hand. “Let’s take a seat in one of our interview rooms.”

  Rios led her down the hall to interview three, a small room with a metal table and four chairs. A stainless-steel ring was secured to the center of the table and another to the floor. A video camera hung from the corner ceiling.

  “I appreciate your coming down here,” said Rios. “Would you care for some water?”

  “Nah, I just wanna get this over with.” Even with Schwartz sitting in the chair, her knees bumped the table. “How’d you get Pipes’ phone?”

  “When was the last time you saw Pipes?”

  “Last night around midnight. She was upset about something and asked me to come over.”

  “Why was she upset?”

  Schwartz shifted in her seat and glanced around the room. “Look, no offense but I can’t really talk about that.”

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  “We’re in a recovery group together. It’s anonymous and confidential.”

  “Narcotics Anonymous, right?” Rios pulled a photo of the book out of the case file. “We found the book on her kitchen table.”

  “You were in her house? Did something happen to her?”

  “Why was she so upset she needed her sponsor to come so late?”

  “I shouldn’t be discussing this. I mean, it’s anonymous, ya know? That’s how the program works.”

  “I used to go to Nar-Anon and Al-Anon because of my sister. I understand the need for anonymity. But you and me are both trying to help out Pipes, right?”

  “Is she in trouble?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid she is. That’s why I need you to tell me why she was upset.” Rios watched a series of emotions play across the woman’s face. Getting a recovering addict to break confidentiality wasn’t going to win Rios any friends, but it might lead her to a suspect.

  “Well, it’s just life, you know? She broke up with her girlfriend awhile back. Her bike needed work. Just regular shit. She was worried she might start using again. So she called me.”

  “What time did you leave?”

  “I don’t know. About one, I guess.”

  “How was she when you left?”

  “Better. Still a little stressed, but okay. Why? What happened to her?”

  “Well, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

  “She’s dead, isn’t she?” Schwartz sat there grim-faced.

  “I’m afraid so.” Rios looked for any sign of surprise, but didn’t see one. Maybe she figured it out after being called into the station. Or maybe she knew all along. The woman was hard to read. “Did Pipes ever use hex?”

  “Not that I heard.”

  “She ever go to nightclubs or bars?”

  “Definitely not. Hanging around bars is a great way to slip and start using again.”

  “You think that’s what happened?”

  “If she took hex, something happened.”

  “Where would she have bought the hex?”

  “I got no idea. I never used it.”

  “You ever hear people discussing it in the meetings?”

  “Yeah, but they never say where they got it.”

  Rios sighed. This was turning into another dead end. “Okay, anything else you can think of that might help us find out who sold Pipes the hex?”

  Schwartz shook her head. “That’s all I know.”

  “Well, Ms. Schwartz, I appreciate you coming in today. And I’m real sorry for your loss.”

  Rios escorted the woman back to the lobby. She was going to have to start calling names on Piper Anderson’s contact list. Hopefully, someone might know who was dealing hex.

  —

  Shea was welding the shortened frame for the Stansbury bike when Terrance called over the PA system, “Shea, please report to the office.”

  She pulled off her welding mask and dropped the welder. “No
w what?”

  Shea walked into the office to find Detectives Rios and Johnson sitting in front of her desk. “Shit.”

  Terrance glanced first at the detectives, then at Shea. “I’ll give you ladies some privacy.” He patted Shea on the shoulder as he passed through the door. “Keep your cool, girl.”

  “Morning, Ms. Stevens,” said Johnson.

  “What the hell do y’all want?” Shea glowered at the detectives as she settled behind her desk. “I got work to do.”

  “What have you learned from the Athena Sisterhood?” asked Rios.

  “That drug use is strictly forbidden among the club. Biker Express charges more than we do for oil changes. Oh, and one of the patched members is allergic to strawberries.”

  “That’s it?” Rios took a seat and leaned over the desk. “You think this is some kind of joke? People are dying.”

  “Gimme a fucking break, will ya? I’m doing the best I can.” Shea pulled a glass and a bottle of Bushmills from the bottom drawer, and downed a shot. The ibuprofen she’d taken earlier wasn’t doing anything for her headache or her jaw. “Last night me and my girlfriend were s’posed to be celebrating our six-month anniversary…”

  “Ms. Stevens, you need to listen—” said Johnson.

  Shea ignored her and poured herself another shot. “But instead of a romantic evening with my girlfriend, I was out drinking at a bar with my ex and her buddies in the Athena Sisterhood.” She tossed the whiskey down her throat, savoring the burn.

  Rios looked indignant. “Shea—”

  “But you know what the best part was? The fucking Confederate Thunder showed up and damn near broke my jaw.” A warm sensation spread from Shea’s belly to the rest of her body.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but—” pressed Rios.

  “You’re ruining my life, Detectives. You know that?”

  Rios leaned toward her and met her gaze. “Shea, listen to me. A member of the Sisterhood is dead.”

  Shea narrowed her gaze. “What? Who?”

  “Piper Anderson. I believe she went by the nickname Pipes.”

  “Pipes?” The whiskey turned sour in her stomach. “I was just talking to her last night. How can she be dead?”

  “Strychnine-laced hex. That makes four deaths in two weeks. If you don’t find out who’s behind this, there’ll be more.”

  Shea’s head throbbed worse than before. “I’m spending time with the Sisterhood like you asked.”

  Rios pulled out a notebook. “Why don’t we begin with the members you’ve met.”

  Shea grew increasingly uncomfortable. This was it. She was becoming a snitch. “All I know are road names.”

  “It’s a starting point. Maybe a brief description of each?”

  Shea looked from Rios to Johnson and back again. She was cornered. Then again, maybe giving them a list of road names would be enough to get them off her back. “Let’s see, there’s Labrys.”

  “That’s your ex-girlfriend Deborah Raymond, right?” asked Johnson.

  “Yeah. I talked with a woman named Savage—kinda butch, has short spiky hair. Said she was an EMT. Also a tall, attractive African American woman who goes by Indigo. Ugh, who else? Orphan—a few inches shorter than me, dark hair. And Pipes, but then…” Shea’s voice trailed off.

  “Any of them seem like they would be selling drugs?” asked Johnson.

  Shea scoffed. “These women? Doubt it.”

  Rios continued writing notes. “What else can you tell us?”

  “That’s it. I’m a hangaround. They ain’t gonna tell me shit about any club business. I told you that.”

  Rios nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  “Thank you! Finally you’re starting to listen.”

  “That’s why we want you to become a prospect, Ms. Stevens,” said Johnson.

  “Look, lady, do you have any idea what being a prospect involves?”

  Johnson sat a little taller in the chair. “It’s Detective, actually.”

  Shea rolled her eyes. “Fine. Let me explain something to you. Prospects are at every patched member’s beck and call 24/7. I’m already in the doghouse with my girlfriend because of this. I don’t have time to be a prospect. You wanna throw me in jail? Then do what you gotta do, De-tec-tive.”

  Rios shook her head and folded her arms. “I’m disappointed in you, Shea. Pipes is dead and you don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but yourself. How many women have to die before you care?”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. I care a lot. But the gals in the Athena Sisterhood ain’t outlaw bikers. More like feminist college-types who drink lattes and eat kale. They sure as shit ain’t drug dealers.”

  “We have a witness that says otherwise,” said Johnson.

  “Then your witness is fulla shit. I know the Thunder’s dealing hex ’cause I was with them when they stole it from the Jaguars. Probably why they showed up at Gertie’s last night. They’re worried another motorcycle club might interfere with their drug business.” Shea rubbed her jaw. “But the Sisterhood has a strict no-drugs policy. All they care about is women’s rights.”

  Rios looked closer at Shea. “Is that how you got that bruise on your face?”

  “Yeah, their VP, Mackey, got in a lucky punch.”

  Rios met Shea’s eyes. “Regardless, our evidence points to the Athena Sisterhood as the source of these recent hex deals. So you need to do your part and become a prospect and let us know who all is involved.”

  “I don’t have time for this. My niece is having PTSD problems. My girlfriend hates me. And we’re extremely busy at the shop. Snitching on the Sisterhood’ll have to wait.”

  “So you’re refusing to honor your CI agreement?” Rios stood and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

  She’s bluffing, Shea thought. She stood with her arms crossed. “I guess I am.”

  In a flash, Rios slammed Shea against the wall, snapping the cuffs on her wrist. “Shea Stevens, you are under arrest.”

  “This is bullshit.” Shea struggled to back away but she was literally cornered.

  Rios and Johnson each grabbed an arm and pulled her out of the office and through the showroom in front of a handful of gawking customers. Johnson droned through a Miranda warning, but Shea didn’t pay attention. Just a fucking scare tactic, she told herself.

  When they stepped through the front door, Rios pulled out her phone. “Dispatch, this is Detective Rios. I need a patrol car to Iron Goddess Custom—”

  “Wait!” Shea’s shoulder throbbed as visions of Annie living with Monster played in her head.

  “Hold on, Dispatch.” Rios turned to Shea. “You got something to say?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Do what?” Rios leaned into Shea’s face. “I want to hear you say it.”

  Shea took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll be your snitch. I’ll ask about becoming a prospect.”

  “Cancel that, Dispatch.” Rios hung up and removed the handcuffs.

  “But there’s no guarantee they’ll approve me.”

  “You’re a smart woman, Shea. I’m sure you can convince them.”

  Shea rolled her sore shoulder and winced. Jessica was going to have a shit fit.

  Chapter 15

  The pounding beats of the Pink Trinkets’ latest album, Singing Mammogram, blared from speakers set up on the Iron Goddess back lot. Around the perimeter, vendors were selling riding gear, embroidered patches, and motorcycle insurance.

  Rows of Iron Goddess motorcycles gleamed under the overhead lights. Dozens more bikes, belonging to attendees, filled the rest of the lot and choked the surrounding side streets.

  Shea nursed a bottle of Sam Adams from the comfort of a lounge chair, watching the growing mass of people circulate through the assortment of chrome and steel. Jessica sat beside her sipping a bottle of water, while Annie sat on the ground playing a handheld video game.

  Terrance breezed by carrying a case of bottled water.

  “Not a bad turnout, eh, T?�
�� asked Shea.

  Terrance set down the case of water and surveyed the crowd. “Yeah, I was afraid it’d be too cold. Maybe we’ll sell some bikes tonight.”

  Jessica pointed to a cluster of women wearing Athena Sisterhood cuts. “Don’t you have a rule against people wearing club colors?”

  “Since they’re not an outlaw club,” said Shea, “I decided to make an exception.”

  Terrance frowned. “You make an exception for them, others will want one, too. Next thing you know someone’s been stabbed or shot in the showroom. We don’t need that kind of publicity.”

  “Ah, you worry too much, Terrance. Most Thundermen wouldn’t be caught dead shopping at Iron Goddess. The only other MC bikers we get in the shop belong to law enforcement clubs. It’s a nonissue.”

  “You say that now.” Terrance hefted the case of water again. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and mingle with the crowd, sell some bikes.”

  “Hey, I set up the tents. You mingle with the crowd. I’d rather sit here and people watch.”

  He left, shaking his head. “Suit yourself.”

  A member of the Sisterhood with short dark hair approached holding hands with a guy sporting a bushy beard, deep-set eyes, and unruly hair. “Hey,” said Shea. “It’s Orphan, right?”

  “Hey, Havoc. Good to see you. This is my boyfriend, Richard.”

  Jessica looked at Shea with a quizzical look. “Havoc?”

  “My road name,” Shea muttered.

  Jessica chuckled. “Oddly appropriate.”

  Shea shook Orphan’s hand and then Richard’s. “Glad y’all could make it. This is my girlfriend, Jessica.”

  “Nice to meet the two of you,” Jessica said.

  Orphan kneeled down near Annie. “And who is this cutie?”

  Annie made a face when Shea ruffled her niece’s hair. “This is Annie.”

  “Aunt Jessica, I’m hungry.” Annie got to her feet and brushed dirt off the back of her pants.

  Jess gave Shea a knowing look that seemed to say, You need to take care of your niece. She was right, Shea knew. And yet she also needed to get closer to the members of the Sisterhood. “Jess, you mind?”