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“Good idea. But they might never trust you enough, Fletch,” Crew said. “Even so, definitely work on that in the meantime. Because you’re right, the only other option would be to break in and plant them.”
“And one of us getting caught breaking into their clubhouse could blow this investigation to pieces,” Nox concluded.
“That’s a strong possibility,” Crew agreed. “We have to assume they have a security system in place. Maybe even cameras. Especially if they’re storing meth there.”
“That would be another good reason for us to try to elbow our way into their church,” Wilder added. “We might be able to see what kind of security setup they have.”
“All right. That gives us something to work on. In the meantime, I’ll go ahead and work on obtaining approval for one of us to go undercover with the Uniontown Demons. Getting approval to install listening devices or even cameras at that location might take a bit longer. Anybody have anything else before we adjourn this meeting?”
Wilder spoke up again. “I just had a thought. Fletch could start hinting to Wolf about patching over from the Angels to the Demons. He could show interest since the DAMC is totally against dealing drugs. Since his cover story is that he patched over from the Blood Fury, it’s not like he has any long term loyalty to the Angels. It could work. That would get us inside their chapter plus inside their church to plant bugs.”
“Possibly,” Crew said, rubbing his hand back and forth over the back of his neck.
“It’s a good plan,” Mullins said.
“It’s an option, but I’d prefer to leave you where you are at the moment and only use that as a backup plan. If they would even allow it. The Fury and the Angels are allies, so that story was solid and plausible. The Demons might not want any Angels patching over. They’re not allies. From what I understand they’re barely even civil to each other.”
“True,” Fletch said, “but it would mean more numbers for them and less for the Angels. That could be to their benefit if they decide to keep marching north into the Angels’ territory.”
Crew groaned. “I hope to fuck they don’t. Those two clubs going to war might fuck up this whole investigation.”
“But if we get someone inside or at least get the gas station bugged, we’d be able to hear if that’s in the works,” Finn reminded Crew.
Crew’s eyes flicked from him back to the phone in the center of the table. “Okay, Fletch, hint to Wolf you might be interested in wearing their colors. Only say you’re thinking about it and ask if that’s something they’d even consider. However, the more unsure you act about it, the better.”
“You got it. I’ll float the idea out there and see if Wolf bites.”
“All right, that gives us a few different angles to work on. Anybody else have anything?” When nobody spoke up, Crew finished up with, “Meeting adjourned. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
As Rez rose from his seat, he announced, “We’ll have the game on downstairs if anyone wants to stick around to watch Thursday Night Football and have a beer or two.” He twisted his head toward Finn. “Brother, you sticking around?”
“Hell yeah.”
Rez smirked. “Good. Since the Steelers don’t have any cheerleaders, maybe you can stand-in and show us some of your fancy dance moves.” The BAMC sergeant at arms rolled his hips, but not nearly as smoothly as Finn could. “I’m sure we can find something that’ll work as pompoms for you.”
“He can use his balls as pompoms,” Decker suggested oh so helpfully.
Finn flipped them the bird. “Both of you… just fuck off.”
He headed downstairs followed by laughter.
Chapter Nine
Finn pulled the Kia behind The Peach Pit and didn’t bother to waste time looking for a parking spot. In fact, he didn’t think there was an empty spot to be found since the back lot was packed. Instead, he parked right in front of the employee entrance and glanced at the time before shooting MJ a message letting her know he’d arrived.
It was kind of late in the evening to have dinner, but he’d gotten an unexpected text about forty-five minutes ago: Cookie showed up. I’m starving. Have you eaten yet?
He had, but hearing from her had made him hungry all over again. Just not for food.
One side of his mouth pulled up at his own depraved thoughts as he waited for the solid metal door to open.
It finally did about five minutes later and he was surprised to see the strip club manager in worn jeans, brown leather knee-high heeled boots and a clingy emerald green sweater that fell off one sexy-as-fuck shoulder. She must have changed for their dinner date since he doubted she wore that all day inside the club.
A late September breeze picked up her loose hair and swirled it around her head and into her face like a gold tornado.
