Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Ace nods, but his expression doesn’t change. “He’s gotta be here about Hector.” Hector is dead, and Doherty will expect answers that we can’t provide without incriminating ourselves.
“I’m coming with you,” I tell him.
“Me too,” Shades adds and claps Ace on the shoulder.
Ace nods and heads toward the door, Shades and I on his tails.
I stop at the door and turn to Gia. “Let me know as soon as you find anything.”
“You got it, Wild Man,” she says in a mocking tone, her eyes as wide as her smile. “I’ll hold down things in here. Go handle your business.” Gia will make a solid Old Lady for Preacher. She’s intelligent, street smart, and she just seems to get that the MC is the priority. Always.
I smile and leave my brand new office and catch up with Ace and Shades.
Doherty stands in the rear parking lot, squinting despite the aviator glasses hanging from his beige Sheriff’s shirt. His thumbs hang from the thick black belt around his waist, one hip cocked out to the side in a classic sign of worry. “Ace, thanks for meeting me.”
“No problem, Sheriff. What can I do for you?” Standing together, I see that Ace mirrors Doherty, the look of two men who don’t know what it’s like to have a moment of peace.
“Two more bodies floated up at the harbor this morning.”
“Shit,” Ace bites out and shakes his head. “Have they been ID’d yet?”
Doherty lets out an angry sigh. “Not yet. Two women, one older, probably around fifty, sixty years old, and the other looks to be a lot younger. Maybe in her twenties. Too beaten and mutilated for a quick ID, so the medical examiner is going for dental records. Same Iron Kings branding they use on their trafficking victims.”
My ears perk up at those words. “They traffic senior citizens now?”
Doherty’s lips twitch. “Fifty isn’t exactly AARP territory, young man.”
I hold up my hands and smile. “No offense intended, it’s just not their usual MO.”
“Exactly what I was thinking. The young girl might be a trafficking victim, but the older one is probably a misdirect.” He shakes his head. “We’ll know about sexual assault after the post-mortem is complete.”
“And what about your guy on Hector’s payroll? Is he off the force yet?”
“No,” the Sheriff sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this is just another fire he has to put out. “Internal Affairs takes forever to investigate to make sure they have an airtight case. My hands are tied until they have everything they need. I can’t even put the asshole on administrative leave.” He removes his hat and smacks it against his thigh, a sure sign that he's as unhappy about that as I am.
Ace folds his arms and eyes Doherty carefully. “You’re not just dragging ass because it’s one of your own, are you?”
Doherty glares at Ace, incredulity wafting off his broad shoulders in waves. “Fuck that. Our little agreement,” he motions between himself and Ace, “is for the good of Angel Harbor. Your MC is the lesser of two evils, and that’s fine by me because I’m not some doe-eyed newbie thinking I can stop you. Briseno, though? That little shit is doing this just for cash, which I could respect if Hector wasn’t such a goddamn psychopath.”
Everything about Doherty’s demeanor illustrates a man under tremendous stress. I almost feel for him, except our problems are so intertwined at this point that I don’t have enough bandwidth to feel anything except annoyance for his lack of action.
“Speaking of that asshole, where is Santos?” he adds.
We all three do our best to look normal and calm and unbothered as Ace shrugs. “Got away. Shouldn’t have let the prospects watch over that silver-tongued shit stain. We’ll find him, and you’ll be the first to know,” Ace lies easily to protect the MC.
Doherty nods because other than the whole cops and criminals thing, he has no reason to distrust us, at least, none that he can confirm. “Another fucking thing,” he growls.
A car door closes in the distance. None of us think too much of it since the club whores and girlfriends all drive cars, but some type of awareness comes over me. I stand a little taller, my senses on overdrive.
“I fucking knew it,” a slightly pissed voice says from the side of the building. A man in jeans and a t-shirt appears. Immediately, I know who it is. He’s one of the cops trying to take us down.
I step in front of my Prez and glare at the man. “Do you have a reason to be on private property, Briseno?”
He grins at me and then Doherty. “I always knew the old man was on the take, but this? Doherty on the payroll of a local biker gang? That’s a headline that won’t go away for weeks. Possibly months.”