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“Yo, Carrot Top, you’re going to wear a path in the newly refinished floor,” Nox shouted from the other side of the room. “I worked hard on that fucker.”
“I’m not worried about these fucking floors. They can be replaced. I’m worried about Mel, who can’t.”
“Holy shit,” burst from Crew. “Did the man who rarely sticks his dick twice in the same woman actually catch some feels? Is that even possible? I expected you to fuck her—hell, we all did—but not fall for her.”
The room became dead quiet. No talking. No laughing. No typing. Nothing.
All eyes had turned toward him. Fuck!
“I didn’t fall for her,” he insisted quickly before they began busting on him for something other than his red hair. “That’s impossible since I haven’t even known her very long.”
“Brother, right now you’re acting like a protective boyfriend, not a fake one.”
“I’m protecting our asset,” Finn insisted.
“Protecting our asset? Tapping her ass more like it.” Crew lifted a hand. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that and that’s the whole reason we didn’t make her a paid CI.”
Was he that fucking predictable?
Finn’s fingers curled into his palms even tighter and he wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin clean off Crew’s face.
The task force leader grimaced. “Truthfully, I’m a little concerned that little fat fuck Cupid might be flying around Rockvale like a damn blood-sucking mosquito. First Fletch, and now you?”
“Now nothing.” Tucking a finger into the collar of his shirt, he tugged at it, trying to keep it from choking him. It must have shrunk in the dryer.
“Sounds like Little Orphan Annie escaped the orphanage only to end up on a boat headed down d’Nile,” came from Rez, sitting at one of the wiretapping stations near the front windows, his headphones now hanging around his thick neck.
Finn shot him the bird.
Rez winced, slapped a hand over his heart and fell backward into his chair, laughing. “Anyway… if someone sees that chubby fucker flying around here with his arrow, shoot him first, will ya?”
Finn ignored Rez and stopped in front of the DEA agent. “I don’t give a fuck how you take this… Even though the investigation isn’t over yet, I want Saint gone. She’s not safe there with him in charge of that club.”
“See, asshole? This is how I know you’ve tripped and fallen over Mel. You’re not using your fucking head right now. You’re using your heart. When you tripped, the Teflon-coating must have chipped. You know how fucking dangerous not using your brain can be in this line of work, Finn. And anyway, they’ll just replace Saint with someone else. Someone possibly a lot worse. At least you already know what you’re dealing with when it comes to this Saint guy and can take heed.”
Crew was annoyingly right. Taking Saint out as a player wouldn’t change the game, it would only put one Demon behind bars out of many. Finn was damn sure that jail was Saint’s home away from home and most likely the man wasn’t afraid of being incarcerated, anyway.
“But… if it’ll keep you from busting a cap in his ass, maybe we can secure him in a cage for a few days until things cool off.”
Finn shot a scowl at the task force leader. “Bust a cap in his ass?” He never expected that to come out of Crew’s mouth.
“At least that proved you’re actually listening. We could have a Uniontown PD officer pull Saint over—with probable cause, of course—and ask for a vehicle search. When he refuses—because we know he will—we’ll get a dog out there. Once the dog hits, we’ll have enough PC to search his vehicle and if he’s transporting, we can take him into custody. That will keep him out of Mel’s hair at least until he gets bailed out.”
While that sounded good, it was only a temporary solution. Once Saint got released, he could return to the club more aggravated than ever.
“I don’t want him blaming Mel for that stop-and-search in any way. And he just might since she keeps challenging him. She doesn’t hide the fact that she doesn’t like him. She’s also made it known that she’s not happy with the way he’s running things. And after what happened today, he might know she suspects they’re dealing drugs. I haven’t had a chance to go over everything that was said or done before I got to the club, but he was definitely not happy about her being nosy.”
Crew stroked his bearded chin as he considered Finn’s words. “Even though we couldn’t prove it in the security footage, my best guess is that Saint’s the one transporting drugs from the Demon’s clubhouse in Uniontown to the stash van behind the club. That alone puts him at risk for a random search and seizure. For him, the vehicle and the drugs. I’m not sure if he would pin that on your girl.”
