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Decker slammed his hand on the desk and fell over laughing.
“Despite the fact you could be his doppelgänger, you’re no Ed Sheeran,” Crew told Finn. “If you haven’t noticed, your singing voice makes glass shatter and pussies yowl.”
Finn shook his head. “Yowl?”
“Yeah. Dogs howl. Pussies yowl.”
Finn huffed, “Okay, Dr. Crewlittle.”
“More like it makes pussies dry as the Sahara Desert,” Decker huffed. “And your singing is one reason why I named my ginger pussy Finn.”
Finn did not need a reminder that Decker named his orange cat after him.
Before he could respond, Rez yelled out, “Christ almighty! If I have to go undercover, do not partner me up with someone for a fake relationship, Crew. Apparently that’s a gift that keeps on giving. That’s more likely the cause of Finn and Fletch’s downfall, not that stupid flying cherub.”
“Fletch seems happy with Wilder,” Nox mumbled over at his desk.
“That’s because Wilder is a kick-ass bitch,” Rez said. “Who wouldn’t want a woman like that? She’s probably taught Fletch a thing or two.”
“Monty’s a kick-ass bitch, too,” Decker suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.
Rez grimaced. “Monty’s like a sister despite being part of our brotherhood. I can’t even begin to imagine her naked.”
Neither could Finn. “Enough talk about Monty since she’s not here to give you a smackdown. And, newsflash, she doesn’t want to see you naked, either, Alvarez.”
“Hey, you don’t know that and I look good naked!” Rez exclaimed.
“Nobody cares. Anyway… all the photos Mel took seem to be useless.”
“You know what wasn’t as useless?” Crew started. “Those videos. Tell Mel we need the most recent security footage.”
“Has someone already gone through everything I gave you so far?” Finn asked, surprised.
“We’re still slogging through them. We found some video of what we suspect is one of the prospects dealing out front but it isn’t conclusive enough to make a difference for our case. They’re slick about it. We need footage that clearly shows them dealing or what could be perceived as dealing. Enough to convince a grand jury.”
“Yeah, most of the dealing is out back. The whole reason the cameras back there were disabled.”
“Speaking of the club’s rear parking lot, Rodgers took a drive-by to check the logistics of having a team sit surveillance.”
“And?” Finn prodded.
“Unfortunately, there’s no good spot to sit undetected. Not the way the property is set up. There’s nowhere to hide. We might as well sit there in a marked unit with the emergency lights flashing and the sirens blaring.”
“Yeah, I was afraid of that, but confirming it just makes it worse now that I’m persona non-grata.”
Crew dropped his salt-and-pepper head and stared at his boots for a few moments. When he lifted it again, he said, “We’ve got two other options now that you’ve been banned from the premises. One, we can send someone else in to do undercover buys or… we can install our own cameras.”
Finn’s ears perked at that idea. Could they pull that off? If so…
“We’d need probable cause and a court order to do that,” Decker called out from his seat.
“No shit. I’m a senior special agent, remember? That senior designation proves I know some shit. It’s also why they have me leading this group.” Crew scrubbed his fingernails on his chest, then blew on them. “I’ve got mad skills.”
Nox snorted over at his desk, shook his head and went back to typing.
Rez spun his office chair around to face Crew and Finn. “How about we break into the van after closing to confirm it’s a stash van first and not just an abandoned piece of shit?”
“We’d still need a court order for that search, the same as for installing cameras,” Finn reminded him.
“Abso-fucking-lutely. Otherwise, any evidence we find would be tainted because it would be fruit of the poisonous tree. And rotten fruit is useless.” Crew slowly drew a hand down his short beard as he continued to work a plan out in his head. Finn was waiting for puffs of smoke to escape his ears. “How about this… Let’s hold off on pinching Saint and instead, I arrange for a drug dog to sniff around the exterior of the van. If it hits, that should give us enough PC to get a court order to install our own camera system. That’ll be more efficient than sitting surveillance. Better on the budget, too.”
“Can we get away with installing our own system?” Finn asked. “That would be so much fucking better than someone sitting in a van nearby and pissing in a bottle.” Anything was better than that.
“No shit,” came from Decker.
“I second that ‘no shit,’” said Rez. “The only thing I hate more than transcribing wiretaps is sitting in a fucking vehicle for hours and hours until I want to eat my fucking gun.”
Finn bugged his eyes out at Rez before sliding his eyes over to Nox and back in a silent message.
