“Gee, that’s a big surprise,” said Connie sarcastically.

“What the hell are they doing out here?” her partner asked.

“Dope deal gone bad,” replied Connie.

“You find dope?”

“No, but this door is open to the adjoining room. There’s a blood smear in the bathroom and it looks like a third guy escaped out the back window. These two yo-yos were killed instantly so it wasn’t them moving around.”

“Could be dope. They have lots of firepower.”

Connie nodded and said, “That’s their number one money-maker. Three guys — bikers — in adjoining rooms with only a double bed in each. They weren’t here to sleep. Probably using the other room as either security or to stash the money or the dope. Being from Quebec even fits. Last year Intelligence discovered that assholes from Satans Wrath in Quebec were running speed out here.”

“Who would have the balls to waste a couple of these guys?”

Connie glanced around the room, then replied, “No sign of forced entry. I bet whoever did this was known to them. They didn’t even have their guns out. Alert the hospitals to be on the lookout for anyone coming in with potential GSWs. Let’s see if we can find who did this before the bikers do.”

Fifteen minutes later Jack walked into the motel room. “Hi, CC. Want some help?” he said.

Connie turned around in surprise. Jack was already in the room and she saw Laura looking in from the doorway. “Careful! We’re still waiting for Forensics to arrive.”

“Hi, Connie,” said Laura. “There’s a blood smear on the sidewalk.”

“We know.” Connie looked at Jack and asked, “How the hell did you hear about this and get here so fast? It’s Saturday morning of a long weekend,” she added.

“A source I’ve known for a long time told me that three Satans Wrath members from Montreal were in town to do a major dope deal this weekend. An executive of the club known as The Toad and two strikers. Apparently they were to hand off three or four million bucks to buy dope.”

“Three or four million!” said Connie’s partner. “I guess that could give someone the balls to do this!”

“Recently I turned another informant — a hooker — who knows The Toad. We were meeting her when we heard your radio transmission about the two strikers. She has been servicing The Toad since he arrived. She said that back on the second of May, she was with The Toad and saw him meet some dark-skinned guy on Robson Street. She says the dark-skinned guy then walked across the street to a park and met with Lawrence Leitch. He’s a lawyer that Satans Wrath uses.”

“I know about that!” said Connie. “We were working with...” She paused and looked at Jack and said, “Wait a minute, that was almost three weeks ago! You telling me that some hooker can remember an exact date that long ago?”

Laura leaned against the doorway and watched. This ought to be good.

“Definitely,” replied Jack, his face expressionless as he stared at CC. “She said she remembered it because of something she had said to The Toad the day before and he joked to her about it as they drove past the park.”

“Which was?” demanded CC.

“She had said, ‘Hooray, hooray, it’s the first of May — outdoor screwing starts today!’”

Laura snickered to herself, more at the sincere look on Jack’s face than his words.

“Oh,” replied CC, eyeing Jack warily. “I was there that day with” — she glanced at Laura — “your husband. That was over the Molen incident. This Toad is tied in with the guy we call the Brit? The same son of a bitch who attacked the O’Reillys and murdered Holly’s husband and shot their baby?”

“Has to be,” said Jack. “The Toad told my informant to wait for him in the car. She said he was acting really kinky and paranoid. She followed him and only caught a quick glimpse of the action.”

“Damn it! I was there that day. I didn’t notice any hooker or The Toad,” said Connie.

“How would you have known?” replied Jack. “It’s not your fault,” he added, while stepping over to look at the face of the biker lying on the floor. He looked closely at the biker who was sprawled face-down on the table.

“Be careful,” said Connie. “Forensics hasn’t —”

“Just making sure that either of these two isn’t The Toad. They switch identities like most people change underwear. They’re not. No money here, I take it?”

Connie shook her head.

“There’s a rental out front. Could be theirs.”

“It is. We already checked. No bags of money.”

“Sure, you say that now,” said Jack. “I’ll be watching. If you two retire next week I’m coming after you.”

Connie grinned and replied, “Don’t I wish.” Her face then became serious and she asked, “Any suggestions? Can your sources help us out? We think one guy was wounded and escaped out the bathroom window.”

Jack rubbed his chin and thought for a moment, then said, “Maybe The Toad decided to retire early. The bikers probably had security out front. Bet that’s why he slipped out the back.”

“But who would have shot him?” said Connie. “There’s some blood on the bedspread and a smear on the bathroom wall. Neither victim had a gun in his hand.”

“Who says he was shot?” said Jack. “This guy sprawled out on the floor ... maybe he saw it coming and got a punch in. The Toad might only have a broken nose.”

Connie considered this and then said, “Guess that’s possible.” She paused, then asked, “Your hooker friend have any leads as to where he might be?”

“I’ll check. You should call the narcs right away and tell them what I told you. This much action should have their sources talking. Tell them I have a hooker close to The Toad. Maybe something will click with them. If The Toad is running off with the club’s money, he won’t be sticking around long. Maybe one of the narcs will know something to identify the Brit. If we find him, I bet we find The Toad as well.”

Connie looked carefully at Jack as she digested what he said.

“We’ll head out now,” said Jack, moving toward the door. “Tell our source to get to work.”

“Not so fast, Jack!” said Connie.

Laura felt a lump in her throat. Oh man ... I knew we couldn’t pull this off!

“What’s the problem?” asked Jack.

“Your DNA,” said Laura. “It’ll be all over the room now. We’ll need a sample for elimination.”

Laura had wondered why Jack had moved around the room. Now she knew.

Jack and Laura were just returning to their car when Jack received a call on his cell.

“You said you wouldn’t bust our guys! I’m dead! I’m fucking dead!”

Jack recognized Lance’s voice and said, “Your guys weren’t busted.”

“Bullshit! I just left the motel. There are cops all over the place! The Toad’s not answering or returning calls!”

“I know. I’m at the motel now. I was notified about it through Homicide.”

“Homicide?”

“The maid checked the room this morning. Both strikers are dead and The Toad is missing. Looks like he took the money and split.”

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me!” “We should come and meet you and talk about it.” “Danny back in action?” “No,” said Jack, glancing over at Laura. “I’ve got a new partner. You can trust her.”

“It’s a her? Oh fuck!”

“She’s a ... good friend. Trust me.”

“Yeah, like I have a choice.”

On their way to meet Lance, Laura asked, “How long do you think it will be before Damien hears the whopper you just told Connie?”

“Wish we knew who the dirty narc is. Regardless, the club is out a few bucks. Not to mention two dead strikers and a missing toad. The heat will be on. I bet Damien hears the story by Monday or Tuesday. The friend I’m about to introduce to you will hear when Damien finds out.”

Jack introduced Laura to Lance. He was polite but mostly ignored her. Bikers tended to view women as property. Not as anyone you would listen to, let alone take orders from. At the moment he had too many other things on his mind to worry about Laura.