Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(68)

Mac stepped out of the shadows.

“Stop.” A man in cargo pants and a muscle tank looked comfortable with the assault rifle pointed at Mac’s chest.

He raised his hands. “I’m not armed. I know Freddie.”

The man jerked the barrel toward the cabin. “We’ll see about that.”

A second man stepped out from behind a huge oak tree. He gave Mac a cursory pat down. Mac knew better than to bring a handgun into the camp, but he’d hidden the Colonel’s KA-BAR in his boot. It wasn’t as accessible as he’d like, but they’d have to look hard to find it.

A half dozen men emerged from the cabin and sheds to congregate on the pine needle carpet. Freddie’s son, Rafe, stood a head taller than the others. Despite the heat, he was dressed in slim, European-cut jeans and a tailored black shirt. His blond hair was tied off his chiseled face.

Mac caught his gaze. Once, Rafe had been his closest friend. “I see you’re still dressing like a fancy-pants.”

“And I see you still need a new wardrobe.” Rafe took two steps and gave Mac a shoulder-slapping hug. Rafe’s face went serious. “What brings you here, Mac?”

“I came to ask you a favor.”

Looping an arm over Mac’s shoulders, Rafe steered him away from the other men. He lowered his voice. “What do you need?”

Mac pointed to his pocket, then slowly withdrew the two pictures. “Do either of these men look familiar?”

Rafe barely looked at Adam Miller’s photo. “Never seen him before.” He touched Noah Spivak’s mug shot with the tip of his finger. “This one is a crazy motherf*cker. He’s with that white supremacy militia group, WSA.”

“WSA?”

“White Survival Alliance. They’re preparing for an invasion or some shit.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“They spread themselves out over a bunch of locations. Dad probably knows more.”

As if on cue, the front door opened, and Freddie stepped out onto the porch. At six feet six, he bore an uncanny resemblance to Hulk Hogan, from his long blond and gray hair to the matching beard. He crossed the distance between them with rapid, anger-driven strides. Stopping in front of Mac, he glared. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just talking to Rafe,” Mac said. His body went tense as aggression radiated from the big man.

Freddie’s weathered face turned grim. “You shouldn’t have come here, Mac.”

“That’s not the welcome I expected.” Sweat broke out at the base of Mac’s spine. Something was wrong.

“I don’t owe you anything.” Freddie leaned over and spat tobacco juice into the dirt.

“What’s wrong, Freddie?” Mac cut to the chase.

Freddie drew a knife from the sheath at his waist. “Rumor has it that you’re a cop.”

“Really?” Mac held his gaze and prayed the river of sweat sliding down his back would be attributed to the heat.

“You were spotted riding along with a woman cop.” Freddie’s eyes dared him to deny it. “Where is she?”

“I came alone.” Mac would die before he led an angry Freddie to Stella.

“What’s the deal with the cop?” Freddie asked.

Mac considered a lie, but Freddie’s bullshit meter was prime. “Two women were abducted, tortured, and killed. I want to find the bastard who did it.”

Freddie tapped the flat side of his knife on his palm. “Wasn’t anyone here.”

“I didn’t think that for a minute.” Mac nodded. “But you know what goes on in this town. This killer is using heroin as his murder weapon.”

“I don’t work with cops. You’re awfully cozy with them lately.” Freddie’s thumb slid along the edge of his blade. “You’re right. I do know what goes on in this town.”

“Dad, this is Mac.” Rafe stepped forward. “He’s not a cop.”

Mac swallowed, his throat arid.

But Freddie didn’t take his gaze off Mac. “Do we look like f*cking police informants?” Freddie gestured with the knife. “Why are you really here? Are you setting us up?”

Rafe put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Mac wouldn’t do that.”

Rafe’s faith in him stirred up old feelings. They’d been close. They’d been arrested together, and Lee had gotten them off without charges. Mac had once saved Rafe’s life. But Freddie would make no exceptions. None. Sure, Mac had run with Rafe in his youth, but Freddie was a hard man. Anyone who crossed him ended up at the bottom of a lake tied to cinderblocks.

That’s how he kept a tight rein on the violent men he led.

“People change, Rafe,” Freddie said.

They did indeed.

Did Freddie know that Rabbit was gone? If he didn’t, Mac certainly wasn’t going to bring up the subject.

“I’m sorry I bothered you.” Mac eased backward.

Freddie flipped the knife into a reverse grip. Mac used his peripheral vision to track the other men in the group. He didn’t recognize any of them. But working for Freddie warranted hazardous duty pay. Membership turned over frequently.

The knife rose into a pre-strike position in front of Mac’s chest.

How long had he been gone?