“It’s great to meet you.” He nodded at the bald man, who gave me a little smile and then walked over to the bar. Jetter sat down at our table.
“Drink?” Ford asked.
“Thanks,” he said.
Ford gestured at the bartender, who walked over. Jetter asked for a whisky, and I asked for another gin and tonic. When the drinks came, Jetter took one long sip and then looked at me, smiling.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I took a sip to cover my discomfort. I didn’t know what he expected from me, what he wanted.
“I get what Rod saw in you,” he said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You’re pretty. You have kind eyes. Rod was a sucker for kind eyes.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I said, squirming under his gaze
“Keep is professional, Jetter,” Ford warned.
“I’m always professional.” He smiled disarmingly and took another sip. “Tell me, Caralee, how did you know our boy?”
“I met Rod when I was at school,” I said.
“Where do you go?”
“The University of Texas.”
“UT is a good school.” He leaned back in his chair, appraising me. I felt naked for a second, like he was staring through my clothes. It made me feel dirty. “So you’re not just some dumb bitch club slut, then?”
“No,” I said, a little surprised.
I glanced at Ford, and he was visibly holding himself back. Jetter ignored him.
“Good,” he said. “You don’t look it, but you never know.”
“Rod came to a party at school. That’s how we first met. I like motorcycles, and he offered to take me for a ride. We were friends. That’s all,” I said.
“I believe it,” Jetter said, laughing. “Rod never did have much luck with the ladies.”
“He was a nice guy.” I didn’t like the way people kept talking about Rod, as if nobody cared that he was gone.
“Nice,” Jetter said, musing. “That’s not exactly a good quality in our line of work, you know.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said softly. “He still was.”
“Probably how the dumb fuck got himself killed.”
I flinched as the memory of that night came back to me briefly, but I didn’t say anything. He was clearly trying to bait me into getting upset, though I wasn’t sure why.
“Something you want to ask her in particular, Jetter, or are you just being your usual self?” Ford asked.
Jetter smirked at him. “Watch it, Ford. I’m a club president.”
Ford clenched his jaw but said nothing.
Jetter returned his gaze to me. “Did you kill Rod?”
“No,” I said.
“Do you know who did?”
“Other bikers. I was too far away to see exactly.”
“What happened?”
So I went through my story again, beginning with the joy ride and ending with the murder. Jetter’s face remained impassive the whole time, almost as if he had heard the story already. I hated telling it again, hated reliving that night, but I knew I had to get through it all. I gave as much detail as I possibly could, even though the night had been so dark and I had been so terrified.
Finally, he looked at Ford. “What do you think?”
“She’s telling the truth.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“I know her,” he said. “She’s not a part of this shit.”
He nodded and looked back at me. “What did these guys tell you about me?”
“Not much,” I said honestly. “You used to be one of them. Now you lead a different club.”
“How do you think that happened for me?”
“I don’t know.”
He leaned forward, downing his drink. “Like I said, being a nice guy isn’t the best thing in this business.”
“I see,” I said, suddenly afraid.
“I killed a lot of people. That’s how I got to my position. I cut throats and showed absolutely no mercy.” He smiled at me, a sickening thing. “Your friend Ford here isn’t much different, you know.”
“Different enough,” Ford said.
“We’re all this way, you know,” Jetter went on. “Killers. Thieves. We live outside the law because we can’t live any other way. Rod, he just wasn’t built for this life. It takes a certain kind of man to survive it, to thrive in it.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked him.
“Because I’m trying to understand who you are, Caralee. It may not seem like it, but I am very, very angry that my boy is dead. I want to find his killers and I want to cut their throats wide open.” He paused to sip his drink. “Right now, you’re my only link.”
“I’m sorry. I told you everything I know.”
“Rod wasn’t cut out for this life, but that doesn’t mean that harder men like me can’t at least get a little revenge for him.”
Jetter stared at me for a long moment, and I looked back.
“I want you to get that revenge,” I said softly.
“Good.” His sleazy smile returned and he looked at Ford. “I think we’re done here.”
Ford nodded. “Good.”
Jetter stood up and gestured to the bald man sitting at the bar. “Caralee,” he said, “if you think of anything, let me know.”