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Rocky’s smile disappeared. “What’s wrong?”
“Guess I’ll be the bearer of bad news once again,” Slate said, and I sighed and stood.
“Alright, everyone, shut the fuck up. Church is starting.” The business with Stacy was still a top-members only situation, since that was clearly personal, but I’d decided it was good to let the entire club in on this whole dead-girls business. I knew without a doubt now that I was going to continue pursuing it, and it could inevitably affect us all, especially if I started mobilizing members to clean up any mess fall out, so I’d held a quick meeting a couple days ago to fill everyone in.
And now, apparently, Slate had more news for us.
Rocky sat, a serious expression on his face, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention laser focused on Slate as I sat, and he stood before everyone. as mine were. “Well?”
“It looks like the Carter Foundation could be behind the disappearance of those girls.”
“What?” The question roared out of me because when Slate had texted to say he had a lead on the disappearances, I thought it would be a rival gang or even one on the rise. “The Carter Foundation, as in part of Carter Development?”
“That dumb-ass conglomerate that’s been sinking its claws in around these parts lately?” somebody yelled out from the back. “What the fuck?”
Slate nodded. “One and the same. For years they’ve been after some of our properties, namely the land the gun range sits on and, of course, the nightclubs.”
“More than one?” Rocky’s shocked expression was accompanied by a shake of his head.
“Yep. And when he couldn’t get his hands on the properties, he started buying up the properties surrounding ours.”
“What the fuck?” This was worse than I thought and explained exactly why I had that feeling of unease for the past twenty-four hours. “Has he put in any offers on our properties?”
Slate frowned. “I would have come to you if he had. But he’s made inquiries, publicly and loudly.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Maverick was a no-nonsense kind of guy, and he didn’t appreciate beating around the bush.
“It means that he made public inquiries that were bound to get back to us. Except it was through one of his dozens of shell companies and it took some digging to find.”
“And now the fucker is sick of hemming and hawing so he’s tossing dead girls on our properties? What the fuck kind of sense does that make?” Maverick asked.
I was inclined to agree. “None, as far as I can see. Why would they go to such lengths for properties that mean shit in his multi-million-dollar portfolio? Is he trying to lower their market value or some shit? What good would that even do him?”
“Maybe trying to implicate us and get us closed down? The town folk respect the MC, but sometimes it doesn’t take much for people to turn. Dead girls would do that.” Rocky added.
“The Carter Foundation is all over the town, but they’re legit, not some two-bit gangsters. Surely, they wouldn’t pull some shady shit like that?” I knew those sorts of companies might be crooked as hell, but they usually fought dirty and hit people where it hurt—in their bank accounts, and not by bloodying their hands.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Slate said. “But I’m guessing he has a new project in the works, because there have been a few six-figure donations to the sheriff’s office, the mayor, and even the Fraternal Order of Police.”
Rocky nodded as the gears in his mind churned loud enough to be heard. “So he wants our properties, and if the town turned against us, he thinks we might be forced to sell. But is there any connection between the Carter Foundation and the dead girls?”
“Not yet. No money trail or no hints of how they met. I’m still combing through footage and the girls’ lives.” Slate stood with a nod. “I’ll let you know when I find out more.”
“Thanks, brother.”
He nodded again and left the room. Soon, the others followed, probably in desperate need of a shot and a beer. I know I was, but I couldn’t move from my chair as that uneasy feeling intensified. I still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that was making me feel that way, only that I felt out of sorts. Something was wrong, really fucking wrong, and I wouldn’t rest easy until I figured it out.
“Something on your mind, brother?” Rocky arched his dark brows in my direction and waited me out.
“No.”
“Try again,” he laughed, and shook his head. That was the problem with having friends you’ve known for a long fucking time, you couldn’t bullshit them, and you couldn’t get out of talking about shit when you didn’t want to.
“Nothing exactly, just something about all of this doesn’t feel right.”
“That’s because it ain’t right, brother.”
“I know that. But I feel worried, you know? Like this is more than some shady businessman making a deal. It doesn’t make sense. It’s something else.”
