Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“What?” he asked.
She tore some off. “Cloth napkins.”
“Bikers don’t do cloth napkins,” he teased, though he did it telling her the God’s honest truth.
She smiled at him as she came over and handed him his paper towel. “Do bikers like riding roads on this planet we call earth?”
“So your bid to save the planet is to use cloth napkins and not paper towels?”
She shrugged. “Every little bit helps.”
He shook his head, and since she’d stopped close, he dipped down to give her a lip touch, then he pulled out his phone.
“Call,” he ordered. “Soon’s we’re done with this shit, it can be just us for maybe ten minutes.”
She lifted a hand, pressed it into his chest, then made her call.
He made his.
Rush answered straight away.
“The guy giving anything up?” Dutch asked before taking a huge bite of a slice while Georgie murmured and munched close to him.
“Jessica Browbridge launders counterfeit cash the black market operation produces. She does it through that restaurant she manages,” Rush told him.
Well then.
He gave something up.
“Though, that shit has stopped since other shit got hot for her after her neighbor was shot dead in her bedroom,” Rush went on.
Dutch swallowed his pizza and asked, “Anything on that?”
“That was a harder pull, but yeah. She likes to get laid. Though the guy couldn’t pinpoint who was there, since she spread her love around, which Bronson figures might have been the problem. One of them got jealous, came over and got up in her shit, things escalated to a fight. She was fishing too much in a stinking pond, messing with men who don’t like to be messed with and have no problem sharing that in ugly ways, even with a woman. Khalon Stephens didn’t like the sound of it. And we are where we’re at.”
“He give you names?”
“He had trouble narrowing it down.”
“Jesus,” Dutch muttered, taking another bite.
“But it doesn’t matter. This racket is highly organized,” Rush said. “You’re in, you deal with what you deal with. This situation was big, and she’s flashy, so she was known, and when that went down, word got around. But Bronson isn’t part of the counterfeit cash gig. He’s on distribution of Cialis and Viagra that comes in from Canada and Mexico. So for the most part, he doesn’t know names, just faces. Until I told him her name, he didn’t know it. Just knew what happened with her, and that she was out, and all were told not to associate with her.”
“You believe him?”
“He was pretty tweaked he’d been hauled in by Chaos. Can’t say he spilled right away, but eventually he was cooperative and absolutely not at one with her shit landing on him, or their racket, in any way. So, yeah.”
Fuck.
“You cut him loose?” Dutch asked.
“Pretty certain we got all we could from him, so again, yeah.”
“Right.”
“The kid?” Rush asked.
“You line ten thousand men up that all meet the same description, he’d pick the fucker out in five seconds flat.”
“So we need to be all over that warehouse when you said we can’t be all over that warehouse.”
“Nightingale is on that. Vance, Luke and Roam met the kid, witnessed his break, and not surprisingly, man hours loosened up. They’re all in. They’re setting up surveillance equipment as we speak.”
“Fuckin’ great,” Rush said.
“Yeah.”
“Between us on her and Nightingale on that warehouse, we’ll get him, Dutch,” Rush said.
He hoped so.
“Yeah.”
“Catch some sleep. Wanna meet with you tomorrow, set a schedule of who’s on her, who’s on security for Carlyle and his mom and sister.”
“Time?”
“Whenever. Your call.”
Dutch studied Georgie, who was off the phone and concentrating on eating and not falling over.
He got that.
You could run a marathon, and if you’re fit, probably paint your bedroom after.
But emotion will suck it all out of you every time.
“I’ll text you in the morning,” Dutch told him.
“Right. Cool. Later.”
“Later, Rush.”
He disconnected, tossed his phone on the counter and asked, “Well?”
She looked up to him and watched him take another huge bite before she spoke.
“Well, taking nothing away from the fact that I think Carolyn genuinely does probably love your brother, and that was part of why this morning was off-the-hook, it’s clear another part of it is that she’s in some financial trouble and Jagger was her bid to freedom from that. With him out of the picture, she went to our mother, who shot her down, and was desperate enough to break the silence with Dad, who’s now entirely freaked out.”
“Did he shoot her down?”
“He asked her to come and talk to him. Something she did. And since he hasn’t seen her in a while, and she’s lost some weight, and was tweaking, he asked pertinent questions he knew the answers to. She lied. He cottoned onto that too. So, yes. He shot her down for money to buy coke or whatever else is at issue. But he offered to pay for rehab. She refused.”