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My gaze shot to Fallon, and his bemused expression matched what I was feeling.
Eventually, we accepted coffee from Shale, then sat, listening to the occasional click of Junior’s mouse or tap of keys.
“She wasn’t wrong about the nose,” Junior mumbled to himself.
“You found him?” I asked, moving across the room to look over his shoulder.
He froze the frame, and there he was.
Eyes wide.
Mouth open.
“Is the picture clear enough to use fucking facial recognition or anything?”
“Won’t need it,” Junior said, skipping to another camera feed, this one catching the guy rushing up to a black sedan. “Got plates,” he said, clicking the space bar to freeze the screen.
And there it was.
The fucker’s license plate.
I doubted he was smart enough to have fakes on.
“How long until you can track him down from that?”
“Not as long as you’d think.”
Turning back, I saw Perish on the couch next to Shale, Lucy curled up on his lap, fast asleep again, what looked like a smile on her face.
It was less than an hour later when Junior had a rap sheet on his screen.
“Got away with sexual assault twice,” Junior hissed. “Fucking useless system we have,” he added to himself.
“Do you have an address?” I asked.
“Last one was a halfway house. But that doesn’t look recent.”
“Known associates?” Fallon asked.
“Older brother… has a list of priors for a bunch of automotive crimes. Figure he’s the link to the rest of the crew.”
“Give us a direction,” I demanded.
Not fifteen minutes later, we were rolling up to the home of Ty Taggert, older brother to actual and attempted rapist Trey Taggert.
There were three cars in the drive of the rundown ranch, the lawn calf-high, and the weeds growing as wildly as they pleased. We were kicking up dandelion seeds the whole walk up.
Perish took the back, Fallon and I the front.
Fallon reached for the door with his hand holding his gun, and mouthed to me.
One. Two. Three.
With a surge of adrenaline, I flew in the front room, finding four guys sitting around on the couches, drinking beer, and playing video games.
They didn’t have time to reach for weapons, if they even had them while they were lounging around.
“The fuck?” Ty exploded as he flew up out of his seat.
The two closest to the back door tried to make a break for it, only to run into Perish.
“Remember me, asshole?” I growled, slamming my fist into Ty’s face. The crack was one of the most satisfying sounds I’d ever heard.
“Fucking told you we were targeting the wrong people,” one of the guys Perish was towering over cried.
“Yeah,” the other one agreed, clearly the squeaky wheels of their operation. “Fucking useless bitches, sending us after people like this.”
Bitches?
What bitches?
The quick sideways glance Fallon shot me said he was contemplating the same question.
“Perish,” Fallon said, looking over at him while keeping his gun trained on the guy next to Ty. “Why don’t you take one of your new friends into the back room for some interrogation?” he asked, moving his gun to the guy Perish didn’t immediately reach for, no questions asked.
“The bitches,” he whispered as Perish passed, getting a curt nod from the giant. “Get your ass over on the couch too,” he demanded of the other guy who looked like he was seconds away from pissing his pants.
“Now, my brother here has some questions about your shithead brother,” Fallon said, glancing at Ty.
“That motherfucker,” Ty hissed, jaw ticking he was clenching it so tight. “The fuck he do now?”
“Maybe having a rapist on your crew wasn’t the smartest idea. Especially one with stalker tendencies,” I growled.
To that, Ty let out a groan, his chin going to his chest, head shaking.
“Claimed it was false accusations,” he grumbled to himself.
“They always fucking do,” I snarled. “Where is he?”
Ty’s gaze slid upward, and there was knowing in his eyes. The thing was, he didn’t seem torn up about his brother’s fate.
“Parents’ place,” Ty said with a sigh, then rattled off the address.
There was a roar from the back room, then some pleading, and eventually, crying.
Before Perish came back out, dragging the guy by the neck of his shirt back out with him. Bloodied and bruised, and definitely crying.
“The bitches,” Perish said, tossing the guy forward, making him slam down on the coffee table. “Mandy and Kerri.”
“Mandy and Kerri,” I repeated, the names ringing a bell, but it took a moment for my memory to jog. The girls at the bar. The ones Lottie had made friends with. They’d all come back to the clubhouse to party.
It seemed like they were hooked up with this crew, feeding information about people at parties who might have some cash or guns on them. Or at the very least, drive nice cars.
Fallon read the realization on my face and gave me a nod.
“Here’s how this is gonna go,” he said to the crew. “You have one hour to get your sorry asses out of my fucking town,” he said, and there was steel under his words. “My friend is gonna make sure you do,” he said, jerking his chin toward Perish. “And if I get word that you didn’t, or I don’t get word at all,” he added, making it clear that nothing should happen to Perish. “Then I will bring the weight of my entire fucking organization down on your heads. And, believe me, you don’t want that to happen.”
