Page 43 of Cutter's Hope
“Make it ten.”
“Copy that,” I said and ended the call shoving my helmet on. I rode out and made it back in seven. We had work to do.
20
Cutter…
Ruth finished dealing with his man Rusty and the one that put Rusty up to it before Hex took Rusty to have his hand looked at and put in a cast. Fucking tool. I charged Pyro with getting us set up in a cheap motel down the road. My boys and me, we took a quick vote and they agreed, we could do without the Voodoo Bastard’s hospitality. They were quickly coming around to Hope bein’ one of us and I think they could tell, I wasn’t about to let the wild cat go any time soon.
Still, I was afraid of runnin’ out of loyalty before this was through. When I got the text from Hope and told the guys what was up, we’d all gone still. Marlin had been the one to speak first and when he did, it was sense; which is why he was my VP.
“Let’s get the full story when she gets back and we’ll go from there,” he’d said and was met by nods of agreement from everyone including me. Hope pulled up inside ten minutes and I felt something akin to pride bloom in the center of my chest.
She marched into the place like she owned it, and there she was, my woman on fire again. Her eyes fell on me and she softened marginally.
“Who has my gun?” she asked and Radar handed it over, she tucked it into the back of her pants and came over to the table. Ruth wandered over.
“What’re we looking at?” Marlin asked while she scrolled through her phone. She raised a finger.
“Where’s my backpack?” she asked me. I went over to the pile of gear and brought it to her. She pulled out her tablet and brought up some pictures of a laptop screen.
“That’s your sister?” Lightning asked.
“Not the way I remember her,” Hope said and sounded resigned. I glanced at Marlin who was studying the picture thoughtfully. He had some history with druggies and one glance told me thatnowthis was hitting close to home for him.
“She’s a junkie?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said and launched into her findings. Told us everything she’d learned from her detective friend.
“Sounds like baby sister landed smack dab in the middle of the Big Easy’s underbelly and it swallowed her whole…” Ruth commented. He looked over the girl’s picture, Faith’s picture and sucked his teeth, “Damn shame,” he muttered.
“She didn’t get there by herself,” Hope said with conviction and her dark eyes met mine, pleading. She didn’t have to, I was committed.
“Okay, so how do we find her?” Atlas asked, “You get a name?”
“I did,” Hope whisked her finger across the screen and the next picture was of some form up on the monitor. Under the heading of ‘lawyer’ there was a name.
“Walter Baines,” I read aloud.
“I know that name,” one of the Voodoo Bastards piped up.
Ruth waved him over, “Spit it out then, Saint. Damn, we ain’t got all night, Man.”
“Sorry, Ruthie. Back in the day he was a city defense guy. Then all of a sudden, he’s private practice and shit. Word on the street says he went to work for the Russians.” Saint and Ruth exchanged a meaningful look and Ruth got a slow, lazy grin. The smile of a predatory man onto a scent.
“That so? The Russian’s mixed up in this?” he asked Hope and she met him with a somber and level gaze.
“Well, Ivan is a Russian name and thatiswho Tonya was talking about, and my source at the N.O. P. D. told me to watch my six; that the Russians were all over the bust in St. Bernard’s Parish.”
Ruth’s expression turned calculating, “That wouldn’t be Ivan Vassili, now would it, Darlin’?”
“Never got a last name,” she said honestly.
“I’ll be dipped in shit, your sister got mixed up with the wrong fucking people, Girl.” It was La Croix who spoke this time. The most we’d heard out of him since we’d gotten here. Hope frowned as La Croix rubbed a hand back and forth over his tattooed scalp.
“What do you know that you aren’t telling us?” I asked, steady.
“Crash course in local underworld politics…” Ruth said and poured himself a shot. He tossed it back and set the glass down with a clack on the table we were standing around.
