Fuck.
What a goddamn mess.
At least the night wasn’t a total waste, though. One thing I know for sure now is that Eden was telling the truth when she told me Piper is keeping secrets from me. Not that I know what those secrets are yet but as soon as I looked into Piper’s eyes, I knew she was lying. I honestly can’t believe I didn’t see it before and the other thing that became very clear to me last night is that Piper still loves me just as much as I love her.
So, why did she leave?
Shaking my head, I stand up and toss my covers back so the bed looks like I at least made an attempt to make it before I throw on some clothes and head downstairs. I don’t want to say that why she left me doesn’t matter anymore because I still want to know but it also has lost some significance after what happened last night. Whatever took her away from me ten years ago didn’t do anything to the love we share or our connection and if anything, I’m more determined to get my wife back than I was before. I’ve been a goddamn idiot for a decade and that ends now but first… I have to know what happened to make her leave me. It’s clear to me now that there never was anyone else if the look in her eyes and our wedding photo on her bookshelf is any indication but I am more confused now than I was before she walked back into my life.
What the hell made her leave?
Maybe I should just ask Streak to dig into her past but I want her to be the one to tell me. How could we truly move forward if she wasn’t?
Trudging into the kitchen, I sigh and after turning on the coffee maker, I sit down at the table and stare down at the files in a neat little stack before flipping open the first one. Laney’s picture stares back at me and I remember what Streak told me about Mitch last night. Sighing, I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest as I stare at the file, my mind working through the new information… or lack of information, really. The fact that Streak can’t find any information on the man makes him even more suspicious but what can I do without hard evidence? God, maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree here. It takes a hell of a lot of brutality to commit these murders and if Mitch had that, shouldn’t we have seen it? Because there is a big difference between being a narcissistic asshole that hits your wife and the kind of psychopath that puts together a whole revenge plan that includes murdering three women.
The rich scent of coffee fills the air just before the machine beeps, letting me know it’s ready and I sigh as I stand up to grab a cup. I check my watch and glance over at the front door. After I got home last night, I tried to distract myself from how badly I had messed up and all the damn questions that have only gotten louder in the last twenty-four hours by reading through the files but I still couldn’t focus so I called Rodriguez to follow up on what Streak shared with me. He didn’t answer but maybe I can try him again now. I don’t know how much information he has to give me but truthfully, I’ll take anything at this point. It feels like I’ve been studying these damn files for years even though it’s only been a few months and I need to catch a break soon if I’m going to convince my brothers that we need to be looking into this. Stream billows around me as I pour myself a cup and turn, leaning back against the countertop as I sigh.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial his number and walk back over to the table, setting my coffee cup down before I slump in my chair. My gaze locks onto Laney’s picture again and I shake my head.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Diego. It’s Fuzz. You got a minute?” I ask, leaning forward and flipping the file closed. I can’t stand to look at her face anymore. It’s like she is mocking me with my inability to solve this or find any sort of evidence to back up my theory.
“Yeah, a couple. What’s up?”
“It’s about the cases.”
He sighs. “I don’t have anything new to give you, Fuzz. I really fucking wish I did but even I’m beginning to think I’m going crazy over here.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, running my hand through my hair. “Streak mentioned that you brought Dina’s husband, Mitch, in after she was killed…”
“That son of a bitch,” he hisses and I bite back a laugh. “He promised me he wouldn’t go through my files anymore.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Naw, he didn’t. He was looking into Mitch for me and saw that you brought him in for questioning.”
“Ah, okay…”
“He didn’t dig any further than that,” I assure him. “Out of respect for you, of course.”
He scoffs. “Respect, my ass. He won’t dig into my shit anymore because I told him I’d haul him into the station next time he did it.”
“Shit,” I reply, laughing as I shake my head and picture the look on Streak’s face if Rodriguez stormed the clubhouse and put him in cuffs. Rodriguez chuckles.
“Yeah. So, what do you need to know about Mitch?”
“Did you get anything out of him?”
He sighs again. “Not really. I asked him where he was when Dina was killed and he had an alibi…”
“How solid of an alibi?”
“Not super solid,” he answers, frustration lacing his tone. “But solid enough that I couldn’t justify keeping him any longer. His friends vouched for him but you know how that goes…”
I nod, running my hand through my hair. “Yeah. They’ve got his back whether they actually saw him or not.”
“Exactly. Why are you looking into him? You think he had something to do with this?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh, leaning back in my chair and shaking my head. “It’s a theory but I’m not getting anywhere with it.”
“Run it by me,” he instructs.
“Well, the killing started with Dina, right? So, yeah, technically, it could be anyone connected to the girls we’ve helped but why start with Dina? Not to mention, that when Storm and Chance went to pick her up, they got into a fight with Mitch and Chance pulled a gun on him…”
Rodriguez sucks in a breath. “I didn’t know that part.”
“I mean, nothing happened but seems to me a guy like Mitch wouldn’t take that embarrassment very well.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
My mind drifts back to what Streak said last night and I lean forward, flipping open Laney’s file. “Have you been able to find anything else on him? Streak said the guy is pretty non-existent online.”
“Naw, man. He lives his life like he’s got something to fucking hide but he does it well enough that I can’t find anything.”
Staring down at Laney’s photo, I nod. “You think he’s capable of this?”
“Shit, Fuzz,” he sighs. “You never know what someone is really capable of… but if you told me he was the guy, I wouldn’t be too surprised. He’s got serious anger issues and I get the feeling that is just the tip of the iceberg so yeah, I guess I think he’s capable.”
“You ever get anywhere on Laney or Sammy’s cases?”
“No,” he answers, pain lacing his voice and a pit forms in my stomach. I know he hasn’t been coping with Laney’s death very well but when you add in the fact that he still hasn’t found her killer, it only makes it worse.