Club Property: Adults Only Motorcycle Club Romance: Roadrunners MC by Selena Black Page A

late evening trip. It probably wasn’t going to get him answers any quicker, but he at least felt like he was doing something positive.
     
    When he got the door, he knocked straight away and heard the call to enter. A smile spread across Major Anderson’s face when he saw who walked in his office, but he waited until Samuel was sitting at the desk before he spoke.
     
    “Sitting at home driving you crazy?” he asked.
     
    “Something like that,” Samuel admitted.
     
    “You should have waited there,” Major Anderson said. “I called you ten minutes ago.”
     
    “You spoke to my wife?” Samuel asked.
     
    Major Anderson nodded his head.
     
    “She told me you were on the way here.”
     
    Samuel knew that a phone call meant there must be some news, but he just stared across the desk and said nothing as he waited for the man opposite to go on. Major Anderson got the hip flask from the top drawer of his desk and poured a couple of shots of whisky then pushed one of the glasses across the wooden surface.
     
    “The details I’m receiving from a couple of ex-army men is that Carl McCallister’s last known address is in San Francisco,” he said.
     
    “I pretty much knew that already,” Samuel replied.
     
    Major Anderson pushed a piece of paper across the desk and Samuel looked down at the address written on it.
     
    “The two men were adamant he lived there,” the commanding officer went on. “But I’d caution you that they hadn’t been in touch with Carl recently and that was supposedly where he lived a good few months ago. Your guess is as good as mine as to whether he is still there, but it’s what I can come up with in a few hours.”
     
    Samuel nodded his head and picked up the glass in front of him to take a drink as he continued to stare at the address.
     
    “It’s a start,” he said when he looked up from the paper.
     
    “It might still be where you can find him,” Major Anderson said. “But like I say, that information is relevant to a few months ago and he might have moved on. It’s the best I can find out, but I can’t guarantee that it’s correct.”
     
    “I understand that,” Samuel replied. “Is there any phone number for him?”
     
    “No,” Major Anderson said. “The people I spoke to didn’t have that information. All I got was the address.”
     
    “OK,” Samuel went on. “I guess it looks like I will have to make a visit then.”
     
    “You’re sure your daughter went to San Francisco?”
     
    “That’s what I’m hearing from one of her college friends,” Samuel replied.
     
    “There’s one more thing you should know and it only came from one of the sources, so it’s uncorroborated,” Major Anderson said.
     
    “What’s that?” Samuel asked.
     
    “The rumor is that Carl McCallister is riding with the Roadrunners,” Major Anderson went on. “They’re a San Francisco biker gang.”
     
    “Shit,” Samuel cursed in a loud voice without thinking, but the man opposite didn’t pull him up for the moment of indiscipline.
     
    “Like I say,” Major Anderson said, “as far as I can make out, it’s nothing more than a rumor.”
     
    “Yeah, but it’s a believable one,” Samuel commented. “It’s the sort of thing I could see McCallister doing. His skill as a mechanic is something that a motorcycle crew could utilize, and it’s not exactly unknown for ex-army men to find their way into that type of organization. The adrenaline rush of being in the armed forces is something that many of them miss in civilian life, and becoming part of a biker gang is a way to get it back.”
     
    “That is true,” Major Anderson conceded.
     
    Samuel lifted the glass to drink the rest of the whisky then picked up the piece of paper in front of him.
     
    “Thanks for your help, sir,” he said as he got to his feet.
     
    “Don’t do anything foolish,” Major Anderson cautioned him.
     
    “I just want my daughter home safe,” Samuel replied.
     
    “How