Free GATOR: Wolves MC (Riding With Wolves Book 2) by Faith Winslow

murder like this one. I couldn’t fathom how someone who’d once saved me from a gator could slit a young man’s throat and disfigure his body.
    However, my years in the police force had taught me many things and showed me that, without fail, people will surprise you. I worked too many cases where it ended up being the least likely suspect who was responsible for a murder—you know, the blonde girl-next-door type, the well-respected doctor, or the ambitious college student. If those types of people were capable of murder, who’s to say a guy like Carl Struthers—like Gator—wasn’t?
    And, that was another thought I had swirling in the mix. Who was Carl Struthers? Who was Gator? What type of person was he? I hadn’t seen him in over ten years and had no idea what became of him—other than the rap sheet and the fingerprints I had before me… and they weren’t pretty.
    The man had been convicted of assault and served six months. He obviously had a gang affiliation. And he was somehow involved in the junkie’s murder.
    Could he really have changed that much? What was he like now? What type of man was waiting for me in the holding cell? Did he still look the same? Still talk the same? Was he still as kind as he once was?
    Or was he something different now? Was he like those guys from Chick’s? Was he covered with tattoos, carelessly dressed, and grungy like them? Did he have a similar bad attitude and negative outlook on life? Was he as flippant, disrespectful, and perverse?
    If you lie down with dogs, you get fleas. Was Gator a junkie now too? A pusher? A dealer? A runner?
    AAAAHHHHH!!!!!!! I was already screaming in my head and wanted to shout out loud. However, I knew it would do me little good and would cause me nothing but trouble with the sleeping kid beside me, and I couldn’t deal with what I was thinking, let alone discuss it.
    I decided that I needed to clear my head, or at least chase my thoughts away with something… anything . I changed the radio station from NPR to the first decent music station I heard, and I ever so slightly cranked up the volume.
    I’d just tuned in at the end of something fast and heavy, with solid, steady bass and drums that quickly distracted me. However, just as I was getting into it and moving on, the song ended. The song that followed was a slow, alternative rock ballad that I hadn’t heard in years…
    Go figure!
     

Chapter 12
     
    September 15, 2015–Los Angeles, California
     
    “Rise and shine, sleepy head,” I said getting back into my car.
    Immediately after I said it, I felt like a dumbass. I’d just spend over six hours traveling with a childlike rookie, but that didn’t mean I had to talk to him like a mother!
    “Barnes!” I shouted, correcting my emotional error. “Get your ass up!”
    Barnes had been cooed a little by my earlier wake-up call, but my second one startled him, and he jolted in his seat nearly knockin’ his noggin on the ceiling of my car.
    “I’m so sorry,” he said meek and humbly. “I must have fallen asleep… I wasn’t out long was I?”
    “I don’t think so,” I answered, lying. “I didn’t really pay attention or notice.” The truth was, I didn’t have the heart to tell the poor kid he’d been asleep for more than two hours. He would have been so embarrassed.
    “Where are we?” he asked, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.
    “Los Angeles,” I replied.
    Barnes opened his eyes and out through every window, trying to take in his surroundings and figure out how long he really must’ve been sleeping.
    “We’re in the parking lot of the motel,” I went on. “I stopped here first, to get our room keys. It’s on the way to the station. Who knows how late we’ll be there tonight.”
    Barnes simply nodded and continued to scan the area around us.
    We’d officially rolled into L.A. just after six thirty that evening—and as I’d told Barnes, the motel was on our way to the station. I’d been out of town on