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Her gaze sliced over to the van. “Do you think it was Taint who parked the Chevy there?”
“I do. You said you have access to the cameras. When you get a chance and if you’re willing, I need you to check the footage to confirm that. My educated guess is the van being left there isn’t just coincidence and was on purpose.”
“What purpose?”
“As a drug drop-off.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If they have someone dealing in the club, that person will only keep a small amount on their person. This way if they get popped, it’s not enough for a distribution charge and they can claim personal use. If and when they run out, they get more from the stash in the van. It’s called a re-up. Then someone else comes by and re-ups the van’s supply. Since it has a license plate, I’ll take a photo of it before I leave and I’ll run it through PennDOT. But my guess is, it’s either registered to a prospect or the previous owner. They most likely bought it from a junkyard for the sole purpose of using it as a stash vehicle. By keeping the majority of the drugs outside in the van, if the prospect is busted dealing, it’s set up so it can’t come back on the business. Unofficially, it’ll be the prospect’s drugs, not the Demons’. By doing it that way, they keep both the MC and The Peach Pit clean by making the prospect a scapegoat and pretending he was a lone wolf.”
By the Demons handling it that way, it might not threaten the business itself if any of them got busted. On the other hand, if the Demons got caught money laundering, it would knee-cap the club. A RICO charge was a whole other ballgame.
“And that prospect willingly takes the fall on his own?”
Her question drew him back to the topic of drug dealing. “Yes. If he doesn’t flip and does time for the crime, earning his full set of patches once he’s released is usually a given.”
“And if he flips?”
“What do you think?”
“I think I need to give this some thought,” she murmured. “When do you need an answer?”
“Not tonight, if you want to take the time to consider it. But preferably soon.”
She pressed her knuckles to her mouth.
For the third time, he kept his trap shut and let her work out whatever she needed to work out in her head. Not unexpectedly, she might be uncomfortable spying on the Demons. They weren’t choir boys. They were deadly like their club name suggested.
She also might not feel comfortable playing his girlfriend.
“What are they selling?”
More interest could be a positive thing. So was her not instantly shutting him down and out.
“I’m sure they’re selling weed but the investigation isn’t about that, it’s for crystal meth. They’re trucking large amounts from Mexico to Pittsburgh.”
“Wow, a whole enterprise, then.”
He tipped his head. “One that pays very well.”
“It makes sense now why they wanted The Peach Pit so badly. And why after getting it, they really don’t give a damn about making the business successful. I knew something was off, I just didn’t know the exact reasoning behind it. They’re not only going to destroy the club but people’s lives by providing a very dangerous, addictive drug.”
“They don’t care about any lives but their own. It’s all about money and power.”
“Power. What power does an MC want?”
“They want to control territory, mostly. Increasing their territory expands their area for selling drugs but avoids getting into war with any other MCs. Of course, selling more drugs makes them more money.”
She blew out a breath. “A violent gang, that’s all they are. No better than street gangs like the Crips and Bloods.”
Huh. “Or criminal organizations like the Mafia. But you’re right, some MCs are no better than street gangs on two wheels.”
“Some aren’t?”
“Some like ours aren’t, no.”
She turned to blindly stare out the passenger-side window for the third time. Once again, he didn’t want to push her, so he said nothing. But the whole damn time, a clock ticked in his head.
“Okay,” she whispered to the window.
Wait. What? “Okay…” he drew out, waiting for her to explain.
She fisted her hands in her lap and twisted her head to face him again. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you and your task force.” Not an ounce of uncertainty colored her answer.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take tonight to think about it?”
She shook her head as she glanced at the parked Astro Van. “No. Fuck them. What they did to Laura… They tried to destroy her life. They threatened her and her kids. Now, they might destroy the business she worked so damn hard to build. So, fuck them. They need to go down.”
Well, damn. “Laura wasn’t the only one who worked hard to get the club where it is, right? You did, too.”
