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“About five hundred or five hundred?”
As the club treasurer and all-around numbers savant, Shades doesn’t fuck around when it comes to numbers. He takes a step forward, his tone a warning as he towers over the port officer.
“Five forty-four to be exact.”
“Shit,” Shades says. “That’s twelve hundred goddamn pounds of product missing.”
In one smooth move, Shades pulls his gun from the brown leather holster hidden beneath his kutte, and in the next second, the barrel of his gun is pressed against the officer’s head.
“Give me one good goddamn reason not to put a bullet in your head, Rice. You working with the Iron Kings and trying to fuck us over?”
“No,” Rice answers as calm as can be. “Fuck Hector and his whole crew.”
Shades nods and looks at me. “You believe him, Coop?”
“I don’t believe anyone. Yet.” I turn to Rice. He looks like he’s about to shit his pants as he stares up at me. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because,” he sighed. “I’ve been up in Sacramento visiting my sick sister for the past four days. I’m only here now because I get paid to oversee your deliveries. Remember?”
Shades presses the gun harder against Rice’s head. “You wouldn’t be the first dirty cop to double dip.”
Rice, in a surprising show of bravery or stupidity, smacks the gun away from his head, glaring at Shades.
“I wouldn’t be the first, no, but look at the fucking schedule. I wasn’t even here.”
He points at the computer screen angrily. “My shift began at six o’clock this morning. I checked your shit first and called after triple-checking the load. Shipment arrived overnight. If someone double-crossed the Reckless Souls, it ain’t me.”
Shades shakes his head and steps away from the computer, his gun still in his hand. “I’m gonna need more evidence than that.”
I smile and step between the men. “Why don’t we go look at the security footage of the shipment arriving and being loaded in its place? You can do that, can’t you, Rice?”
He nods, his shoulders shifting into something resembling relief. “Yeah, I can do that.”
I motion for him to lead the way while Shades falls into step beside me. “You’re not actually buying this shit, are you?”
“Not completely, no. But we chose Rice because he needs the money but not so much that he’ll do something that might get him killed to get it.”
The officer doesn’t have a drug or gambling problem. He has a fashion addiction that requires more than the sixty grand a year he makes at the Port of Los Angeles. “We’ll get our answers, and then you can shoot him.”
Shades smiles. “Promise?”
“No. But you can do whatever the fuck you want with whoever stole our shit.” I’ll make sure to get in a few extra shots, since this asshole unintentionally cockblocked me this morning.
Or maybe he did me a favor, delaying things with Kelsey. She’s a bad fucking idea, but I don’t care. I want her. No, not want her. I want to fuck her. Again and again, until I’m bored and ready to move on.
Rice steps inside another dimly lit office and motions us inside.
“The digital logs say your container docked at oh-two thirty-five hours and was moved at oh-three twenty-two hours. The footage should reflect that.” He hands over the tablet to me, and I hand it to Shades.
The footage plays, not quite the high-definition footage I expect, but every frame is clear, all the faces easy to identify.
“The yellow container is yours.” He points at the screen, and Shades and I watch from several different angles the container as it’s lifted off the ship and moved to another location.
“That. What the fuck is that?” Shades’ loud bark is justified as the screen cuts to black. The time clock is still running even though nothing appears on the screen for seventeen goddamn minutes. When the footage starts again, it’s the same area, looking exactly as it did seventeen minutes before.
“There is definitely some fuckery going on here.” He glares at Rice.
Rice hands over a list of names. “These are the guys who worked the overnight shift.”
I hold the sheet up in gratitude. “Thanks, Rice. Keep your eyes and ears alert for any intel on who the fuck has our shit, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nods and motions for us to exit the security office.
“Not that it takes a fucking genius to figure out who did this.” Shades shakes his head in disgust and anger. “This has Hector’s grubby little paws all over it.”
“Agreed.”
Shades nods. “I’ll see what Ace wants to do about it and catch up with you later.”
I nod at his retreating back and hop on my bike to make my way back to Ace Motors and, hopefully, to a waiting Kelsey.
I smile when I pull up and find her inside, chatting with Lucky. She must really want my dick if she’s still here. That suits my plans just fine because I plan to bury myself deep inside her, over and over, for the next few hours.
