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“Need to see that footage,” I agree. “Maybe break it down even more. Whoever got in here, had a permit. Notice this ain’t a public parking lot. It’s private.”
Harlem scratches his chin. “Good point. Could be somethin’.”
We’re missing something here, I feel it.
“So, the fucker who did the deal could’ve swiped them in,” I say. “But that seems risky, given the cameras.”
“Or they just thought they’d get away with it. Who’s gonna notice anythin’ fishy goin’ on? Rock only caught it because he followed the van on several cameras across town.”
I run a hand over my face. “Nothin’ is addin’ up, H.”
“Hear it.”
“We should go tonight, backup Brew and Haze. Feel like they need the help.” I get that feeling in my gut every so often, like now. Like something is right under our noses.
“Can send in J.J. and Bullet, maybe Jonah too. He’s happy to help out. Might be Maddog’s kid, but nobody knows him around here. Indigo said they never met. He was a kid when she ran off with fuckface.”
“We’ll be spotted a mile away,” I sigh, knowing it’s true.
I know he’s right, but sitting around like this, waiting for the Devils to make their move, feels like they’ve got the upper hand. And that doesn’t sit well with me.
“Someone’s gotta know somethin’,” I mutter. “They’re bein’ protected, but why? We know Razor was slippery as fuck. Hada habit of disappearin’ for months at a time. Where the fuck did they go?”
“Not out of town,” Harlem says. “Cali rejected the motherfuckers. Disbanded them from the Devils HQ. Shouldn’t even be wearin’ those colors. Fuckin’ mess, if you ask me.”
“Cali should have dealt with it,” I agree. “Instead, they sat on their hands while we did all the dirty work.”
“Got that right. Fuckin’ bullshit. Now they’re nomads, Cali Devils won’t get involved.”
“Course not, then they’d actually have to have some accountability. Doubt that’ll ever happen,” I mumble.
“So this fuckin’ parking lot leads to several office buildings,” Harlem goes on. “Could be nothin’ in it, but I say we check ‘em out.”
I glance over at the map near the elevators. It’s a long shot, but the private parking has my head reeling. Who would be stupid enough?
If the van was dumped after the exchange, then why come here? Why not a deserted park or a backstreet alley way in a rough part of town. This seems almost set up.
“Evans Investments, Mayfair Marketing solutions, Capital one,” I say. “All big firms.”
“Don’t add up.”
“Unless one of them is an investor.”
Harlem frowns. “You think they’d be so stupid, to do that here?”
“That weasel prospect told us they had a big financial backer. Granted, that could still be scum of the earth, but this all screams coverup. Someone is coverin’ their tracks either way.”
I nod to the plaque. “One of these?”
“Maybe.”
I take a screenshot and shoot it over to Rock. “Rock can check ’em out, see if anythin’ comes up. Once he traces the funds to that offshore account, shit could get real.”
I feel the frustration mounting. In fact, it’s mounting within the club.
Our pockets need to go deeper in the underworld. Clearly, those who we do have in place ain’t saying shit. We may not deal or carry guns, but people in this town respect the club. We have eyes and ears everywhere, yet nobody has seen anything? I don’t believe it. I think Forger is paying everyone off. And with financial backing, he’d have the means to keep everything quiet.
We made a statement when we took the Devils down. The Irish mafia stayed away and paid their respects by leaving our turf untouched. The cartel fucked off back to their neck of the woods, and that was that for the time being.
