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“While that’s my assumption, too, that doesn’t mean he won’t blame her. It’s not like these bikers are reasonable people.” Finn asked, “You don’t think he’s the one transporting from the mother club to Uniontown, do you? If we decided to pop him to put him away for a short, but forced, vacay, it would be easier and safer to have someone intercept him farther away from The Peach Pit. It’s possible if he got snagged in West Virginia, he might not suspect Mel at all.”
“Good thinking, but no. Group one already identified the transporters from West Virginia to Pennsylvania. It’s not one Demon. They rotate and switch the schedule up to prevent a pattern. But since group one now has at least two task force members on the inside with the mother chapter in Moundsville, their mixing shit up to throw off the task force doesn’t matter. However, we still don’t know where they’re stashing it yet in PA. My guess is that they have it secured somewhere in that gas station in Uniontown.”
“Another good reason for at least one of us to prospect with that chapter,” Nox murmured, still facing the computer.
“I’m working on that, but in the meantime, we still need to keep gathering evidence since shutting down the Demons needs to be a coordinated effort. That means we need enough so all three chapters—Uniontown, Moundsville and New Philadelphia—can be hit at once so they don’t have time to get rid of the evidence.”
“Also so they don’t have a chance to scatter,” Rez added.
“What about the Russos?” Decker asked from the front of the room.
“What about them?” Crew asked with his brow furrowed.
“They’re a major player in this whole thing. Are we just going to let them skate?”
Crew answered, “I sure as fuck hope not. From what I understand, the FBI will work with the DEA on indictments after we shut down the Demons from the three active chapters. We might be able to get some of the bikers to testify against the Pittsburgh Cosa Nostra for a reduced sentence.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Finn said. “Bikers don’t bend easily. For them, doing time is a rite of passage. They probably get a special tattoo every time they go inside. Just like gang members get a teardrop tattoo for each murder they’ve committed.”
“Or a kindergartener getting a gold star,” Decker huffed.
Rez whacked Decker in the arm. “Aww. Does your Valee Girl love getting gold stars, Daddy Decker?”
“In fact, she does. Would you like me to bring you some? How about a nap mat?”
“I could use a nap,” Rez laughed.
The second his cell phone vibrated in his back pocket, Finn pulled it out. It could be Mel.
No surprise, it was. “Shit.”
Crew’s gaze swung from Rez and Decker back to Finn, his amusement quickly dissipating. “What? Is she in trouble?”
Her first text stated that she was fine—just like she had insisted earlier—and she was staying out of Saint’s way. “No, it doesn’t seem like it.”
Before he could text her back, a photo came through. He squinted at the confusing picture.
“Then what? Is she sexting you? Why are you squinting? We saw her tits the other night at the club. No reason to squint.”
Finn sighed and continued to swipe through every picture as she sent them. “She took some photos during the incident after catching the prospect in the van. Or should I say she tried to take photos. They’re complete dog shit. Well… except for this one.”
Crew quickly moved behind him and peered over his shoulder. “Which one? Let me see.”
Finn tilted the phone away from the DEA agent to hide the photo, but Crew almost knocked it out of his hand.
Before Finn could stop the phone from falling, Crew caught it and walked away, wearing his signature smart-ass grin and peering closely at the picture. “Damn. Those are Mel’s feet?”
“Yeah.”
Crew laughed. “Didn’t know you were into feet.”
“I’m not, but look at them in those sexy-as-fuck stilettos. Actually… don’t. Give that back to me. I don’t want you rubbing one off to it.”
When Crew darted out of arm’s reach, Finn followed him with his hand out. The task force leader pinched the photo with two fingers and zoomed in closer. “Okay, that’s fucking hot even though I’m not a foot man.” He swiped through the rest. “Any better photos?”
Finn snagged the phone from his fingers and immediately locked the screen. “No.”
“Can I see the pic of her feet?” Decker asked.
“Also no.”
Crew pointed his obnoxious grin at him. “You’re definitely not acting like she’s your fake girlfriend.”
“We have a mutually agreed upon arrangement to make our relationship look real, that’s all.” He quickly added, “To protect her and our investigation.”
“Uh huh. Let me suggest this: before it gets more serious between you two, make sure she hears you sing first.”
“One, I doubt she’ll ever hear me sing since I have no reason to invite her to karaoke and two, clean out your fucking ears because I sing great. I’m so good I could go on tour.”
