Pleasant Extortion (The Extortionists 1)

Randon had played right into a lunatic’s hands. The stage was set.

He, too, was apparently comfortable in the woodland. Randon had failed to pay attention to significant clues.

The extortionist knew the MC. He understood what to expect. He recognized how they functioned as individuals and as a pack. There was only one logical explanation.

The extortionist was one of them.

With that knowledge, Randon had no choice but to turn back. Sooner or later, they’d meet again.

Chapter Five

Sheriff McKinney entered the ER waiting room about the same time as Randon and Kurt arrived. “Mr. Shane. Fancy meeting you here. You’re either behind the trouble in this town or you’re trying to get in front of it. If it’s the latter, I hope you don’t dally long. My deputy is hanging on by a thread. The few officers and detectives we have left in this town are frightened. Some have handed in their resignations.”

Randon braced for a knowing look from his sidekick but asked anyway. “Which detectives? Was anyone else hurt?”

After he’d exited the woods, Randon had met up with Kurt and the others. They’d informed him of the jail incident. Kurt had then assured him that Pageant had made it out okay, but there was still this unsettling necessity to verify her safety and well- being.

Kurt grunted. “Obvious, much?”

Sheriff McKinney frowned. “Tell me you aren’t sweet on Detective Keen.”

“Sweet on?” Randon was puzzled. “Is that the same as being someone’s ma—”

“Well if you’re not the rudest somebody I’ve ever known.” Kurt gave Randon a solid wallop between his shoulder blades in an effort to shut him up. “You’re the sheriff, I presume.”

“Badge should stand as proof.” Sheriff McKinney shook Kurt’s hand.

“Sheriff, this is my buddy Kurt Dandridge,” Randon said. “He just arrived in town a few hours ago.”

“I suppose you’re staying at Pleasant Motor Lodge, too?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that, but if you say so then—”

“You’re in Pleasant, North Carolina, son,” Sheriff McKinney grated out, narrowing his gaze on Kurt before he turned to Randon. “Any particular reason you called in your buddies?”

“I take it you saw them roll into town?”

“I don’t miss much around here,” Sheriff McKinney said.

“Which is why our guy chose your town?” Kurt was a natural smartass. He couldn’t help it and Randon didn’t try to fix his character flaws. There was no cure for a hardass or a jackass and pretty much everyone who rode with the Bold and Free MC was labeled as one or the other, and sometimes both.

“Are you trying to imply this is somehow my fault?”

“If at first you don’t succeed, try again.” Kurt nudged Randon before he directed his full attention to the sheriff. “I’m a straightforward guy, Sheriff McKinney. Prior to making the trek from Atlanta tonight, I did a little homework. You’ve been the sheriff here for twenty years because no one has run against you. Best I can tell, you’re a law-abiding, peace-loving man, likeable.”

“More than I can say for your gang’s reputation.”

Kurt’s lips twitched. “Been doing your homework, Sheriff?”

“It’s my job to know who’s in my town.”

“Funny. I don’t recall seeing your name on the population sign when I rolled across the Pleasant line.”

“Listen, boy, and you pay attention. This here is my town.” He jabbed his index finger at the floor. “If you and your friends are here for the right reasons and can shed some light on what happened to Pleasant’s citizens, then you can bend my ear. Otherwise, move the hell out of my way. My deputy is twenty-six years old. He has a wife and four kids at home. He’s also a friend.” He released a raspy grunt as if he had to take a minute and gather his thoughts. “Some bastard took a chunk out of Bart’s neck tonight. When he couldn’t get him to bleed, he bit the other side and damn near killed him.” The sheriff pushed by them then. “If you can help with that, then by all means, come find me.”

Sheriff McKinney had almost made it through the doors at the end of the hallway, when Randon asked, “How did you know that?”

Sheriff McKinney turned around. “How did I know what?”