“The hell I will!” Sure, it incriminates Ned, but maybe the police will make more of an effort to solve the case if they know there was a clear motive here. If these guys had just told the cops the truth in the beginning, then maybe more could have been done by now.
Behind me, I hear the sound of tires on gravel and a car coming to a stop, but I’m so overwhelmed by what Bobby just told me, I dismiss it—and everyone else—for the moment.
“You know what? I’m going to tell the cops myself then. And they’re going to come here and question your ass about it until you tell them the truth.”
“Good luck with that. Tiny and Moe will never admit a damn thing to the pigs. They’ll deny everything I just told you.” Bobby looks over my head. “What the hell is he doing here?”
I turn just in time to see Sebastian marching over, his eyes covered by his glasses but the stern jaw telling me he’s anything but happy.
He showed up, just like he said he would.
He showed up and Dakota must have told him where I went, and he is oh-so-pissed with me right now.
But I can’t ignore the tiny bubble of relief that he’s here.
I push it away, though, because I need to deal with Bobby. “So, let me get this straight. Ned had something worth a lot of money to give to someone. He felt he needed backup with him during the exchange, and then he ends up dead. Now someone’s torn apart our house—which we’re trying to sell because we can’t pay the mortgage and we have no insurance, by the way—because they were likely trying to find whatever he was handing over at this exchange, and you guys, who are supposed to be Ned’s friends, won’t do a thing to help me? Fucking bikers!”
All amusement has left Bobby’s face. “Me telling you what I just did is helping you.” He steps closer and looms over me, and I can’t help but shrink back. “But don’t you fucking dare come here and—”
It all happens so fast. One moment Bobby is hovering over me, the next he’s flat on his back and Sebastian is standing above him. I see that his gun is tucked into the back of his jeans. As if he placed it there before getting out of the car, expecting something like this to happen.
The other two guys come running, their guts bouncing with each step. They’re not coming to see if Bobby’s okay; their focus is zeroed in on Sebastian, who doesn’t seem at all concerned. I instinctively take a step back, because that’s what you do out of self-preservation when six hundred pounds is charging your way.
Sebastian doesn’t, though. He turns to face them square on, his stance relaxed. And when they finally reach him, fists in the air, it’s like one of those horrifically choreographed fight scenes from older movies, where the bad guy swings and the good guy maneuvers out of the way with ease, making the bad guy lose his balance and tumble. That, coupled with a few lightning-quick swings and kicks, and both guys are lying in heaps next to Bobby; one’s moaning and holding his jaw, while the other one is out cold.
“Jesus Christ!” A gruff voice yells from somewhere inside. A moment later, Moe—who is not much smaller than Bobby—comes around the corner. He must have been watching the entire thing from the office windows. “What the hell is goin’ on out here?”
I step up and place a hand on Sebastian’s hand, staying him, because the last thing I want him doing is beating up a fifty-something-year-old man. Even if he’s betraying Ned by not helping the police.
“Just a disagreement, Moe.”
“Yeah, well, I can see that.” He glares at Sebastian and then takes in the three men, all conscious now. “About what?”
“About him talking to Ivy in a way I didn’t appreciate,” Sebastian says with complete calm.
“She fucking started it!” Bobby bellows, like a child.
Moe smirks. “You know, when you were five, you used to chase Ivy around Black Rabbit, trying to get her to kiss you?” He turns to look at me. “Didn’t work then, and I assume it’s not gonna work now. What’s the matter, honey?”
“Someone trashed Ned’s house two nights ago. They were looking for something.”