CHAPTER 6
Albany, NY
“Where is he?” Jake Rogan slammed K-Dogg into the alley’s brick wall. Pieces of mortar chipped off the already crumbling bricks.
Dressed in torn, baggy jeans, a wife-beater and some chains, K-Dogg was reputed to be one of the toughest members of the G7s. He wore torn, baggy jeans, a wife-beater and some chains, and although they were about the same height, he easily outweighed Jake by about forty pounds of muscle.
Jake wasn’t worried. A former Navy SEAL, he’d faced a lot tougher individuals than a gangbanger with control issues. In the mood he was in, he’d take on the whole gang to get the answers he needed.
“Man, I told you. I don’t know,” K-Dogg replied. Jake knew he was trying to sound angry, but the tremor in his voice made that impossible.
Jake wanted to smash his face into pulp. He was the one who’d pulled his foster brother into the G7s. He glared at K-Dogg, pressing his forearm harder against his neck. “I am not asking again.” He enunciated each word. “Where. Is. He?”
K-Dogg grabbed at Jake’s arm, but couldn't budge it. “Damn it, man. I don’t know! We ain’t seen Tom since he got out.”
Jake studied K-Dogg’s face, trying to gage his sincerity. With a growl, he shoved him towards the back of the alley. “So tell me, how come you haven’t talked to him? He’s one of you.”
K-Dogg looked over Jake’s shoulder.
“Don’t even think it,” Jake warned.
K-Dogg put up his hands. “Wasn’t thinking nothing.”
“Tom?” Jake prompted.
“Yeah, Tom. He’s still one of us. G7 for life, man.” K-Dogg raised both hands, seven fingers pointed down, the gang’s sign.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re real bad asses. Now, how come you haven’t seen Tom if he’s G7?”
K-Dogg looked away and shrugged. “No reason. We just went our separate ways.”
Jake was done dancing around. He grabbed K-Dogg by the arm, twisted it and then shoved him against the wall, one hand shoving his head into the brick.
“Shit, man. Let me go,” K-Dogg screamed.
“No more bullshit.” He twisted K-Dogg’s arm. He knew with a little more pressure, he could break it. “I'm gonna stop being so nice if I don't get some answers.”
“Fine, man, fine. Just let me go.”
Jake pushed him away again. “Now, why haven’t you guys been in touch with Tom?”
K-Dogg grumbled underneath his breath. Jake took a threatening step towards him. K-Dogg backed away. “No need to get physical, man. I'm talking.” He rubbed his arm. “Tom got out a couple weeks ago. We made some overtures. He told us he didn't want to be in the gang no more. So we let him go.”
Jake laughed without mirth. “Right. You just let him go. What happened to blood in, blood out?”
“Ain’t gotta be that way with Tom. He done us solid. We're good.”
Disgust dripped from Jake’s words. “The grocery job.”
Tom had gone away for five years as an accessory to attempted murder. According to court documents, Tom had admitted to knowing about the plan to rob the mom-and-pop shop. He hadn’t known about the weapons. Tom was the lookout. When he’d been arrested, he’d refused to turn on any of the others. He’d only been seventeen years old.
“Tom could have hung you guys for that. He did five years and didn’t say a word. As thanks, not one of you went to visit him.”
K-Dogg sneered. “Yeah? What about you, ‘big brother’? Ain’t seen or heard you since you bolted, what, eleven years ago? You go see him much?”
This time Jake looked away. K-Dogg was right. It wasn’t like he’d been any better. He’d lived next door to Tom and his grandmother, Ceilia Jeffries, since Tom was a baby. Tom’s grandmother took him in when his mother had been murdered. Jake had only been fourteen. Tom had been six.
When he’d left four years later, he’d promised Tom he’d keep in touch. And they had for a few years. Then Jake had started getting more overseas missions with the SEALS. The letters got fewer and fewer, before they stopped altogether. And Tom had found a place with the G7s.
“So if something happened to Tom - and I ain’t saying something has - it ain’t got nothing to do with us. You need to go look at that new family of his, over at the church. But you know what, man? He probably just skipped. Won’t be the first time.”
Jake turned his back on K-Dogg and headed for the street.
“What? That’s it? Ain’t gonna say thank you?” K-Dogg called after him, but made no move to follow.
Jake ignored the taunt and turned left on Main Street. He tugged up the collar of his fleece. It was getting cooler. He noted how much more rundown the neighborhood looked. Or maybe, through his more weary eyes, everything just looked less rosy.
Jake had already spoken with Tom’s parole officer and the police, but they’d both been less than useless. K-Dogg had been his next stop. He’d hoped Tom had gotten back with his old crew. That would have been easy.
But nothing about this was easy. Definitely not the ‘what ifs’ that weighed him down: What if he had stayed in touch with Tom? What if he’d gone to see him as soon as he was released? What if he’d come home as soon as he’d heard about Mrs. Jeffries’ death? What if he’d been the big brother he should have been? What if? What if? What if?
He shook his head. It was too late for ‘what ifs’ now. He’d raced to Albany right after Tom’s pastor tracked him down. His boss at the Chandler Group put the company plane and resources at his disposal. But even with the resources of a global think tank at his fingertips, he still couldn’t find a single trace of Tom. It was like he had completely disappeared.
A shudder ran through him. “Damn it, Tom. Where are you?”