He paused. Must have been hard watching a man die like that. He didn't die. Not yet. The words hung in the air like a threat.
But he's in rough shape. Might not make it. Dalton's gaze sharpened. Course if he does, I'm sure he'll want to thank you proper. Hells Angels are real particular about debts.
Caleb's mouth was dry. I wouldn't know. No. Dalton straightened up. Funny thing, someone reported seeing motorcycles out here last night. Whole bunch of them surrounding your trailer.
He let that sink in. You wouldn't know anything about that either, would you? People ride motorcycles. They do. Dalton nodded slowly.
They surely do. And sometimes when a Hells Angel gets hurt, his brothers come looking for answers. Looking for things. There it was, the real question underneath all the pleasantries.
I don't know what you mean, Caleb said. I think you do. Dalton's pleasant mask slipped just a fraction. See, Arthur Caldwell is a very interesting man. Did some very interesting work.
Kept very interesting records. And those records, if they exist, they'd be real valuable to certain people. Real dangerous to others. Sounds complicated. It is.
Dalton leaned in close enough that Caleb could smell his cologne. So, here's what's going to happen, son. You're going to tell me if Arthur gave you anything yesterday. Papers, a bag, a flash drive, anything. And if he did, you're going to give it to me right now.
And then you're going to drive away and forget this ever happened. Caleb met his eyes. And if I don't? Dalton's smile was terrible. And then you're going to have a real unfortunate accident, just like Arthur.
This highway's dangerous, you know. Trucks swerve all the time. The threat was crystal clear.
Caleb's hand inched toward the gun. I wouldn't, Dalton said softly. I got two deputies parked on the highway. You pull a weapon on me, they'll put you down before you can blink. And I'll swear you were high on meth and tried to rob me.
He tapped the truck's hood. So, what's it going to be? Caleb's mind raced. If he gave up the evidence, Dalton would kill him anyway. He knew too much.
But if he refused, Dalton would tear the truck apart right here and probably find it. His phone buzzed in his pocket. A text. He pulled it out slowly, keeping his other hand visible. The text was from the number Clutch had given him.
Stall him. Help coming. Caleb looked up at Dalton and did something that surprised even himself. He laughed.