Page 20 of An Omega in Trouble

Azlan

I didn’t have any authority over criminals in the area, but I did have lots of friends in law enforcement. One of my favorite things to do was to attend state and national conventions and meetings—the ones not in glamorous places. My supervisors were the first to volunteer for any event in Hawaii. But what all my trips to lesser locations had achieved was friendships with other detectives and I was pretty sure I knew someone local here who could help if necessary.

But as it turned out, there was another way to handle this. I was going to put in a call to a certain federal officer—as soon as I got permission from one of the owners to do it. A club like Cuffed or a resort like this one hosted a lot of people who highly valued their privacy, and any kind of kerfuffle could not only hurt their business but the careers of their clientele.

Since arriving here, I’d gained a new appreciation for what it took to create a place like this. Or like Cuffed or Crowned. There were a number of investors in all three projects, and I knew some but not all of them. What I did know was that each of them brought unique skills and talents into the business. Nobody was a silent partner, although I understood there was no rule against it.

And many still had other businesses as well. If I could figure out how to keep my position with the department and still find time to put in a good night’s work, I’d invest in a minute. I’d been offered the opportunity more than once. On bad days at work, when I felt unappreciated by my superiors or watched someone bad go free, I wondered why I didn’t just walk away and enjoy being a club owner.

While my omega took another shower—we were really getting messy around here—I padded out in to the living room and picked up my phone.

“Azlan?” Talon answered. “I hope you aren’t calling with a complaint about our resort. Because I can get something comped if you like.”

“I have no complaints about any business you’re involved in. The place is beautiful, the club first class, and the staff is excellent.”

“How excellent? Are you poaching one of my people for your mate?”

“Wow, how did you get that from an excellent staff?”

“Aha! I knew it. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you. But this excellent omega has a real problem. He had an ex who was a bad guy.” I launched into the tale that had me wanting to go find the ex and kill him. But I’d decided he wasn’t the problem so much as the males who now thought they owned my omega. Not that I’d pass up an opportunity to take out the ex, but he seemed to have faded into the background in comparison with those who considered Trace their winnings.

“Are you serious? He just used him as part of a bet?”

“I’m serious.”

“That bastard. Well that’s awful. If we ever get the chance, maybe we can do something so your omega is feeling more comfortable and doesn’t feel like someone might show up at any time and try to take possession.

“And that’s why I’m calling. Remember when I said I had no complaints about the resort?”

“Yes.” Talon chuckled but it held little humor. “You thought of one?”

“The clientele. Let me send you some pictures.” I texted it.

“Who are these guys? Are these mug shots?”

“Yes they are and the ‘guys’ in question are mafia. At least one has warrants out for serious crimes, and I’m guessing the rest do as well. They are all current guests of the resort.”

Soft cursing preceded a louder version. “Shit.”

“And I would like to call a fed friend of mine and tell him their bad guys are here like sitting ducks, but I don’t want to do anything to embarrass any of the other guests or resort personnel. I’ve seen at least one Senator, a mayor, and a major Hollywood star here this week.”

“We don’t need that kind of publicity, but let me make a call and see what I can do. I promise we’re not going to throw your omega under the bus for these guy.”

“Okay, Talon.” I disconnected and went to sit on the sofa.

Less than five minutes later, the phone rang and I grabbed it. “Yeah?”

“Good news. They are checking out tomorrow and if you can get your feds out there, we can make sure they can’t leave by helicopter.”

“I don’t… Wait, I’m a little slow on the uptake today. We’ll need to coordinate.”

So many more calls back and forth before we had things settled. The feds would have preferred to just crash in here and pick up all their warrants, but I pointed out that it would be much easier to wait by the highway when they were all stuffed in a van and just grab them there. The road was pretty deserted, so fewer people could be hurt. Even the driver could stop and get out to check a tire or something, taking the keys with him. And it wouldn’t hurt if the driver was a fed. But I’d let them come up with a plan.

The next morning, I wandered casually into the building wearing a resort driver’s uniform. Trace remained in the villa with everything locked up tight, and I was off to do what I did best. Dangerous police work. I didn’t even know how they’d managed to deputize me for the purpose, but I loaded about a ton of baggage into the under-van storage before opening the doors and letting the grumbling criminals board. They were outraged not to be able to take the helicopter, but not nearly as upset as they were going to be.

Driving down the highway access road, I didn’t see any official vehicles, which was good if they were hidden behind some of the many boulders and bad if they weren’t there at all. About a hundred feet short of the highway, I shifted gears, managing to generate an alarming snarl from the engine.