Page 66 of Striker’s Rebel

Our delivery trucks.

Same pull-off.

Different nights.

“Simple setup.”

“Worked.”

Knowing when Pete gets deliveries isn’t hard.

Choosing Reserve from the same lot three separate times is different.

Somebody told them what to take.

Grim looks at Hound.

“Where does the pickup go?”

Hound adds another photograph.

“Storage units east of town. Same unit after two of the thefts.”

“Jamie’s?”

“No.”

“One of the friends?”

“No.”

Lock gets the unit number from him and starts typing.

“Bedford Holdings.”

Torch looks over. “Who?”

“Shell company.”

That tells me enough.

Jamie can steal whiskey.

Jamie isn’t building companies to hide it.

“So somebody’s paying them.”

“Looks that way,” Grim says. “You want him?”

Yeah.

I fucking do.

But Jamie isn’t the man I want anymore.

“No. We grab him now, whoever hired him knows we’re looking.”

“Then he stays loose,” Grim says.