Geesh. I knew Leona hadn’t had a boyfriend for a while, but she was obviously going through something if she was ready to pull out her B.O.B. at work. “Dicking?”
“You got five seconds to tell me, Raelyn, or I swear to God, I will explode.”
As if she hadn’t just exploded? “I can’t find Billie Jean and Playboy is helping me find her.”
Leona blinked rapidly. “You just said a lot, and I didn’t expect any of it.” She shook her head and held up a finger. “What do you mean you can’t find Billie Jean?”
“I haven’t talked to her in a week.”
“And why am I now just hearing about it?” she demanded.
“I…well…” I closed my eyes and tried to fight back the sudden urge to cry. “Because I don’t know what to do, and I didn’t know how to tell you. Her phone is still on, but she’s not answering it.”
“How do you know it’s still on?”
See, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know that if it rang it meant it was powered on. Though, I never really had to think about it before. “Because it doesn’t go straight to voicemail.”
“Oh. I’d like to say that’s good news, but I really don’t know. Did you go to the police?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m worried they won’t care that she’s missing because there isn’t any evidence that something happened to her. I’m sure once they figure out that her phone was still on, they would write it off as she took off to blow off some steam and will come back when she’s ready to.”
“Well, shit,” Leona mumbled. “I’m sure it won’t help any when they ask you what she does for a living and you say work at a strip club.”
Nope. That wouldn’t help at all. I shook my head sadly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Is this where the biker dude called Playboy comes into play?”
I nodded. “Billie Jean mentioned him a couple of times and how he helped her out.”
“Okay,” Leona drawled.
“And, so, I tracked him down and asked if he would help me,” I said simply.
“How exactly did you track him down?”
I cleared my throat. “Well, his club owns the strip club, and I knew where the club was…” I trailed off because I could tell Leona was going to freak out at my next words.
“You hauled your cookies to the Royal Bastards’ clubhouse and just knocked? Do you understand who the Royal Bastards are?” Leona shrieked.
I knew who they were. Everyone in town knew who they were. “They’re a motorcycle club.”
Leona flounced over to her desk and grabbed her phone. “Honey, that is putting it pretty fucking plainly.” She diddled on her phone and then walked back over to me. She handed her phone to me. "Read that and tell me if they’re just a motorcycle club.”
I saw the headline and handed it back to her. I had already read that. I had also read the other sixteen articles that mentioned the Royal Bastards before I had gone to the clubhouse. “All of those charges were dropped.”
Leona rolled her eyes. “Well, then they must be saints,” Leona remarked.
“They aren’t.” And that was what had convinced me to go to the clubhouse. Whatever had happened to Billie Jean might need the kind of man who would do whatever it took. The law be damned.
“Are you off your rocker, Raelyn?” She reached out and plastered her palm on my forehead. “You feel a little warm.”
I knocked her hand away. “I’m feeling fine, Leona. I need to find my sister, and the Royal Bastards are going to help me.”
“Why?”
“I just told you why.”
She shook her head. “I mean why are they going to help you? Specifically Playboy. It’s not like he had a thing going with Billie Jean or anything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Because I asked him to help me.”
She eyed me closely. “What did you offer them to help you?”
“I don’t think that's any of your business, Leona.”
“He’s getting to dick you in exchange for helping to find your sister.”
Jesus. She guessed it right on the first try. “I really need to get my work done for the day.”
“Because your biker is coming over tonight?”
I glared at her.
She held up her hands. “Hey, I’m not judging you. I think you’re fucking brilliant for striking that deal. Jealous, if I’m telling the truth.”
“Leona.”
She leaned toward me. “I wanna help you find Billie Jean.”
“What?” How in the hell was Leona going to help me? “I have Playboy helping me.”
“And now you have me.”
I shook my head. “No, Leona. You’re not helping me.”
“I am and I will. I’ll come over tonight, and we can go over everything you know.”
“No,” I snapped.
She squinted, and a smile spread across her lips. “He is coming over tonight.”
I clamped my lips shut.
“Girl, you can bet your ass I am coming over tonight to meet biker dude.”
“His name is Playboy,” I growled.
“Oh, girl. You bet you picked a good one with that name.”
“You’re not coming over. I won’t answer the door.”
“I’ll be over at seven.”
Shit. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Leona, gosh darn it. You are not going out with Playboy and me tonight,” I snapped.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, baby. You’ve got a date with biker dude.”
Gah. I needed to keep my mouth shut. “No, I don’t.”
“Where are we going?” She was not going to let this go.
“Nowhere, and it’s not a date.”
She sat on the edge of my desk. “I’m not giving up, Raelyn. Just spill the beans on what time I need to come to your house and what I should wear.”
“He’s picking me up at eight thirty, and we’re going to Skinz to talk to some people. It’s not a date. We’re trying to find my missing sister.”
Leona clasped her hands together and smiled wide. “Awesome. I’ll be at your house at six-thirty because I’m sure you lied about what time he’s picking you up.”
“Leona,” I whined. “Can you please just not come over?” I was beyond desperate for her to stay away. If Leona was at my house when Playboy showed up, I was positive he would turn around before he even got off his bike.
“I wonder what I should wear.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “We’re asking questions, so maybe something sort of stealthy, yeah?”
“No, Leona.” Oh, my God. She was plotting her outfit to wear tonight.
“But, we’re doing the questioning at a strip club.” She slipped off my desk and wandered back over to hers. “So, a sexy stealthy.”
“That’s not a thing, Leona, and you are not coming with us tonight.”
She smiled over her shoulder. “Oh, yes, I am.”
I dropped my chin to my chest and sighed. Dear God. What I had done? I should have just kept my mouth shut. I was horrible at lying or even just stretching the truth.