The killer got away and he was never found.
Mendoza and I arrived at the station and he introduced me to a lot of the officers. The station was made up entirely of men and they didn't look too keen on a woman becoming their new boss. Tough shit. They'd have to deal with my wrath if they couldn't handle it.
“And here's your office,” Mendoza announced, opening the door to what looked like a broom closet. My new office was small and narrow with a tiny window on the far wall overlooking the parking lot. The desk looked like it barely fit and there was only room for one chair. “I know it's not much but you wont be spending much time in here anyways.”
Mendoza was probably right. I set my box of stuff on the desk and began unpacking. Framed pictures of my mom and dad and my lucky pen was all I really brought. And I'm glad I packed light because I wouldn't be able to fit anymore in here.
“Can I give you some advice?” Mendoza asked, sitting down in the chair opposite of the desk.
“Of course,” I replied, taking my seat. The chair was comfy and I leaned back, enjoying the thought of being in charge of this town.
Mendoza scratched his dark bushy mustache. “I don't know how things were run in Los Angeles but here in Sacks, things are a little different.” I nodded and waited for him to continue. “We like to say that we control this town but in reality it's the MC's.”
“You let the motorcycle clubs do whatever they want?”
Mendoza shook his head. “Not exactly. It's just that over the years the one thing I learned was not to fight them and instead, work with them. The less blood on our streets the better. There are rumors flying that the Mexicans are prepping for a war. That could be really bad for Sacks County and the surrounding areas.”
“You don't have to worry. I'll set up meetings with the heads of the MC's and get it all sorted out. In LA, I worked alongside gangs all the time. I know how to play the game.”
Mendoza stood up and I copied him. “Then I chose the right woman for the job. Good luck with everything Sheriff White.” I shook his hand. “I left my number for you on the desk. If you ever need help, you can call me night or day.”
I smiled. “I really appreciate it and I won't let you down.” Mendoza closed the door behind him and I sank back into my seat. I looked out the window and watched as the cop cars drove in and out. I pulled my brown hair out of a ponytail and brushed it.
The door to my office opened and an officer with almost no hair left on top came in. “So the rumors are true, Mendoza hired a woman to become sheriff.”
The rage boiled in my veins. Just ignore him, Charlotte, he's small-town potatoes. I put my hair back into a ponytail. “I don't believe we've met, I'm Sheriff White.” I outstretched my hand and he ignored it. The name Johnson was engraved on the nameplate on his left breast.
He eyed me up and down like a piece of meat, staring at my breasts for way too long.“You really think you have what it takes to become sheriff here?”
I cocked my head to the side. “Why? You think just because I'm a woman I can't be a leader.” This wasn't new to me. I'd seen plenty of his type back at the LAPD. Men didn't think women were good enough to be cops. I had proved them wrong in Los Angeles and I'd prove them wrong here.
“I know a woman can't be sheriff. All your good for is bending over and taking it from a man. I bet you've never been fucked a day in your life.” Johnson licked his lips. “I can show you a really—”
“I'm going to stop you right there,” I interrupted. “Give me your badge and gun. You're suspended.”
Johnson's eyes lit up with defiance. “What the fuck! Who the hell do you think you are? You can't suspend me for hitting on you. You should be glad I gave you a compliment.”
I stood up and steeled myself. I wasn't going to let anyone push me around—especially a womanizing prick like Johnson. “Put your badge and gun on the desk now before I fire your ass.”
Johnson stared at me with a fiery expression. If he was hoping that his anger would change my mind, he was about to be sorely disappointed.
“Fucking bitch,” he murmured, unholstering his pistol and setting it down along with his badge.
I sighed and sat back down. “You can return to duty when you apologize to me.”
Johnson stormed out of my office, cursing to nobody. I'd do the same to anyone else that crossed me. I had to show the precinct that I didn't play games. If you treated me fairly, I'd return the same. But if you disrespected me, I'd bite back like a king cobra.
First things first—making contact with the two major MC's. I pulled out a folder from my briefcase that detailed the three motorcycle clubs from Sacks County. The Rabid Dogs and Death Merchants were the ones to be worried about. The African-Americans in the Fires of Hell weren't big enough to worry about. I needed to meet the leaders and somehow get them to form a truce. If what Mendoza said was true, a war could devastate this town.
I ducked my head out of my office and pulled in the closest officer. “What's your name?” I asked him.
He shivered in his boots as I sat back down on my desk. The skinny and frail man saluted me, his uniform immaculate and straight. “Moore, sir.” He quickly shook his head, sweat pouring down his forehead. “I mean miss.”
A tiny laugh escaped my lips. “At ease soldier, this isn't the army.”
Moore removed his hand from his head and rested it at his side. He still stood at attention though. Moore was the exact opposite of Johnson. What was he so scared of?
I looked over the files of the MC's. “Moore, you seem like a trustworthy guy.”
He nodded and grinned. “Yes, ma'am.”
“You can just call me, Sheriff.”
“Yes, Miss Sheriff.”
It was going to be a lot harder than I thought to get everyone on board for a female sheriff. “Moore, I have a big job for you to do. Do you think you can handle it?”
Moore gulped. “Well Sheriff Mendoza mostly kept me inside the station. Told me I'd do more harm out there than good.”
“Well there's a new sheriff in town and I need you to go out and set a meeting with the heads of the Rabid Dog MC and The Death Merchants MC for tomorrow morning. Do you think you can get that done?”
Moore looked as pale as a ghost. He swayed back and forth, ready to pass out. Maybe I picked the wrong officer? Moore took a deep breath. “It would be my honor, Miss Sheriff.”
Moore saluted me again and I couldn't help but salute him back. “Dismissed, soldier.”
Time to rock the boat in Sacks County.
Chapter Three
Sawyer
The morning air smelled of fresh brewed coffee and booze. My head was pounding and the pressure behind my eyes was building. My whole body felt sore like I ran a marathon during the night. Hangovers were a daily occurrence for me. Nothing that a shot of whiskey couldn't cure.
With my eyes closed, I groaned and shielded my face from the burning sun. I just needed a few more hours of sleep. I rolled over to get more comfortable and pulled the sheet over my head.
A soft voice whispered next to me, “You're one hell of a fuck, Sawyer. I can barely move my legs.”
My eyes shot open to find a blonde under the sheets next to me—Sadie. I'd slept with her once before but told myself that it would never happen again. Fuck and forget, Sawyer. It's not that hard. Apparently my drunk alter-ego had a mind of its own. Sadie was one of the MC groupies, meaning she'd fuck anyone with a patch and some ink. She gave one hell of a blowjob but she was a pretty lousy fuck. Over the years she had been passed around from member to member like a used bike. Her long fake eyelashes batted at me and I wanted to melt further into the covers.
I jolted out of bed and started putting my clothes on. “I need to go downstairs,” I told her, avoiding eye contact.
Sadie sat up and tucked the sheets around her heaving breasts. “We can go one more time.” She winked, dropping the sheets and exposing her big tits. The thought of coming all over her chest crossed my mind.
<
br /> In your dreams, slut. I laughed at her as I slipped my leather cut on. I rushed out of the room without another word. She was trash and it was time to throw her out. Luckily the alcohol prevented me from remembering any of the details from last night.
I came downstairs to find Leland sitting at the bar, nursing a drink. His wedding ring reflected in the sunlight. He was the only member that was married which everyone thought he was crazy. Now he was going to be father which was absolutely insane. Cole came close once with Claire but that was ages ago.
“Rough night?” he asked me, taking a sip of liquor.
“You don't want to know.” I sat down next to him on the creaky barstool. “Get me one of those will ya?”
Leland reached behind the bar for an empty glass and poured me a shot of whiskey. I downed it in seconds, embracing the burn, feeling the hangover dissipate slowly. “What are you doing here so early in the morning? Don't you have a wife that needs tending?”
Leland finished his drink and nodded. “She had an early shift at the hospital. Couldn't fall back asleep after she left.”
“She's still working, even with the baby coming?”
Leland laughed. “Constance has a mind of her own. No amount of talking could convince her to stay home. She says that if the baby comes then she'll already be in the hospital.”
I poured myself another glass. “Can't argue with that.” I raised my glass and clinked it against Leland's.
“What's on the agenda for today?” Leland asked.
“We have a MC meeting in a couple hours. Or whenever everyone can get there drunk asses over here.”
“Know what the meeting is about?”
Should I tell him? Cole giving up the presidency was huge news. He was going to find out anyways in a couple hours. “Don't tell anyone else but Cole is stepping down as President and nominating me.”
Leland's eyes shot open. “No fucking way! Congratulations!”
I put my finger to my lips. “Shh. Keep it a secret for now. I want everyone to hear it from Cole first.”
Leland nodded. “Of course. Let's have another drink, shall we?”
There was still more to tell him but that surprise could wait until the meeting.
—
Cole slammed down the gavel on the wood table with a Rabid Dog spider engraved on it. All the members surrounded the table except for one empty seat that used to sit Isaac. The finances had become a fucking disaster since his death. We needed a new Treasurer and it would be up to me to find one.
“I'd like to just get it out there,” Cole began, “I'm stepping down as President of the Rabid Dog MC and nominating Sawyer to take my place.”
Everyone's jaws dropped except for mine and Leland's. I gave him a slight nod and turned my attention back to Cole.
Cole rubbed his wrinkly eyes. “I've been the head of this club for way too many years. I think it's time I finally let some new blood control the future. I'll still be around as an active member. But it will be nice to not have to deal with all the stress. Everyone in favor of Sawyer as President say aye.”
The table erupted with “Aye's” and fists slammed down on the wood. In one fell swoop, Cole ripped off my Vice-President patch and began stitching my President patch on. “Looks good on you,” Cole said, grinning. He stepped out of the way and gave me the head chair.
The applause roared through the small meeting room. There had only been two presidents of Rabid Dog before me and now I made the third. A new era. I waved my hands down for everyone to be quiet. After a moment of silence, I cleared my throat. “Thank you all. You don't know how much this patch means to me. First order of business is to nominate a Vice-President.” The club looked at each other, eyeing who could it be. “I nominate Leland to become Vice-President of Rabid Dog.” I didn't even get to call for a vote as everyone hammered their hands on the table.
Leland looked stunned as he sat down in my old chair. I'm glad I was able to surprise him. Leland thanked the room as Cole stitched my old patch on his chest. I'd need Leland during the dark times to come.
“As you all know,” I began, “The Death Merchants are about to wage war. Slade talked to the Blacks and they confirmed it. All of you need to step up and do your duty.” I looked into the eyes of every member. “We won't lose.”
There was a knock at the door and a prospect peeked his head in. “I have a police officer outside.”
“What does he want?” I asked.
“The sheriff wants to see the President tomorrow morning at ten.”
I looked over at Cole and he nodded to me. Everything fell to me now. “Tell the officer, I'll be there.” The prospect looked confused for a moment as he left. He would find out soon enough. I picked up the gavel that Cole had used so often over the years. The wood was cracked and old. Splinters were spiked out and threatened to pierce me. This job was going to be painful. I brought down the gavel with all my might. “Meeting adjourned.”
Chapter Four
Charlotte
The sun was barely rising as I walked out of the Main Street coffee shop. The owner had moved on and the new management hadn't picked a name yet. I took a sip and the mediocre coffee warmed my throat. I'd die for a Starbucks right about now. The police station was empty as it should be at six in the morning. I turned on the lights to my small office and sat down. I took another long pull of coffee and threw away the rest. I was going to have to learn how to make my own coffee.
Today was going to my first real day as sheriff of Sacks County and I wasn't going to waste it. I opened the folder for the Death Merchants and grabbed Garcia's thick file. His rap sheet was longer than entire gangs I put away in Los Angeles. Kidnapping, rape, murder. This man had done it all and somehow got away with it. I looked over the trial notes and a common theme ran through each one—the star witness for the prosecution was nowhere to be found.
Officers came through and said good morning. Johnson was absent and I was kind of glad. He could stay away forever for all I cared. I didn't need such womanizing men in my station.
Officer Moore walked in and almost tripped over the threshold. I bit my bottom lip to keep from giggling. He was trying so hard to impress me. “Sheriff White, I have a Mr. Garcia here for his appointment.”
“Thank you, Officer Moore, you're dismissed.” I closed my eyes and chanted to myself. You got this, White. Don't let him run all over you.
A Mexican biker strolled in wearing all leather. A small mustache hugged his upper lip and a black eye-patch was over his left eye. Tattoos of all kinds covered his arms including a gun pointed at the Virgin Mary. He was only a tiny bit intimidating. “Where's Sheriff Mendoza?” he asked, standing in the doorway.
“You didn't see the press release then.” I stood up and put out my hand. “Name's White, I'm the new sheriff in town.” My inner schoolgirl was giggling off to the corner. I'd been waiting my entire life to say that.
Garcia laughed and ignored my hand. “They hired some chica to run this town. I knew Mendoza was an idiot.”
This town was going to need a wake-up call. I disregarded his remark and motioned for him to sit down. Garcia glanced behind and noticed two armed guards at the door. I knew he wouldn't try anything in the middle of a police station but I wanted him to know that I didn't take chances. The biker reluctantly sat down and crossed his arms.
“Look Mr. Garcia, I know we're enemies here. But we have one thing in common: a desire to see less blood on the streets. I know about your upcoming war with the Rabid Dog MC and I want to try and stop it. I didn't come here to try and shut any of of the MC's down. I know I need to work with them to make sure this town runs smoothly. But I can't have innocents dying on my watch.”
Garcia listened intently and leaned forward when my speech was over. His right eye twitched and I wondered what happened to his left. “Listen here, puta, I don't work with the cops. I kill cops. The Rabid Dog MC is going down and there's nothing you can do to stop it.” Garcia pushed my desk and made me jump ou
t of my seat. The two armed guards rushed into the room but I waved them away. “Better sleep with one eye open, Sheriff.”
That meeting was a disaster. A woman running this town was going to be harder than I thought. So many preconceived notions that women are trash that are only to be used for sex. I'd have a long uphill battle to change everyone's minds.
My watch read 9:30 AM which meant I still had a little time before the president from Rabid Dog showed up. I pulled out the MC folder and found Cole's file. He was older than Garcia and his rap sheet was almost non-existent—a few speeding tickets, breaking-and entering, and illegal use of firearms. He spent six months in jail but that was it. Either this guy was a saint or knew how to cover his tracks. He'd been president of Rabid Dog for a long time and probably racked up a lot of bodies.
Secret Baby Complete Series Box Set Page 17