I opened my door and went back into my apartment. One of the other agents was leaning against a wall, looking at his cellphone. He looked up, his face blank. “You took out three Disciples, protecting yourself and the DA?”
“Pickering was shot. Barely more than a flesh wound, but still, I’m not sure I’d call that protecting him.”
“You realize it’s usually the man who protects the woman?” Agent Graham asked with a smile.
“I was legally armed, and my dad taught me how to defend myself. It’s possible I’ve had more training than any of you.” I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes. “They weren’t expecting me to fight back. I caught them off guard. It isn’t likely I’ll get the drop on them again.”
One of the CPD officers came inside and asked to speak to the Agent in charge. My guess was the FBI was about to hear about a sting on illegal guns that netted the CPD a bunch of toys destined for several women and children’s shelters, as well as two large wooden swing sets with slides, with the labor to put them up also volunteered by the MC.
My cellphone rang, and I looked to see Thomas calling.
“Can everyone be quiet? This might tell us who planted the bugs.”
I motioned Agent Graham closer, and answered so the phone was between his head and mine, though I was doing the talking.
“How did you know?”
“How did I know what, Thomas?”
“You’ll pay for this, Angelica. You may think you’re clever, but you and your friends are going to pay dearly.”
“I don’t take kindly to threats. I told you before, I’d rather you be my friend than my enemy, but if you choose to turn us into enemies, I’ll deal with it.”
“You’ll deal with it from the inside of a jail cell by the time I’m through with you.”
He hung up, and I looked to the officers and agents around us.
“I got a recording of it,” one of the Agents said. “Doesn’t prove anything, but doesn’t paint him in a good light, either.”
I sighed and told them, “This isn’t the first time he’s threatened me. I basically broke up with him because he kept disparaging my dad and the rest of the MC family, and because he got really upset with me every time I said a cuss word. He wanted to change me, and that never works.”
“What I just heard on the phone is someone abusing their position to get even with someone in a personal relationship,” said Agent Graham. He looked at me a few seconds and added, “You have three agents instead of two because of your affiliation with the RTMC. However, it appears you were upfront about your connections on your TVA paperwork, or I wouldn’t have been called in at the beginning. If I’m correct, then this shouldn’t affect your clearances.”
He looked at one of the other agents, who said, “I don’t see an issue. I can’t imagine the MC would be interested in her specialty. She becomes friends with Chinese, Indian, or Russian nationals, we have a problem, but bikers? No.”
“So, you’re the energy specialist,” I told the guy who’d just spoken, then turned to Graham and said, “You’re the MC specialist.” I looked to the third guy and asked, “What do you specialize in?”
“He knows the locals,” said Agent Graham. “They like him, and don’t fight him when he says we’re stepping in, because he usually keeps them in the loop as much as he can. I think they’re gonna understand this is a tinderbox, though, and they’ll be more than happy to hand the whole thing over, so we’ll probably send him on his way, soon.”
“I’m kind of hoping you’ll all go on your way, soon, to be honest. What else do you need from me?”
“I need to ask if you know where your MC friends are right now.”
I looked at my watch. “The bike shop’s closed, so I’d imagine some are at the bar, some at the compound, and the rest doing their own thing. Either Bash or Dawg was going to stop by later. Bash slept on my sofa the last two nights but he said Dawg might stay tonight. I keep assuring them I’m fine, but I’m Bud’s daughter and none of them want to face him if I get hurt and they could’ve protected me. They aren’t a bother, sleeping on my sofa, so I haven’t fought them on it, yet.”
“Are you aware of any charity events coming up?”
“Yeah. Six of the guys got some kind of special clearance, so they can go to some of the women’s shelters and build playground equipment. I guess they don’t give out the address to just anyone, and they’ll be taken there in a van with no windows, so they won’t know where they are, but they’ll see the kids and moms while they’re working. There’s also a thing this weekend, where they give a bunch of toys to several charities, and I think some blankets to the homeless shelter, too. Why?”
He shook his head. “If I find out you arranged this, I won’t be happy.”
As if on cue, I heard multiple bikes pulling in. “And here I thought you were going to look out for me,” I told Agent Graham. “Try to make sure justice is served and whoever invaded my privacy learns the error of their ways.”
Brain came in first, and spoke with our audience in mind, “Angelica? You okay?”
“Yeah. I dropped a jar of blueberry jam, and while I was on the floor, saw some kind of electronic listening device under my table.”
“So you called the cops?”
I held his gaze, which was hard. Brain could look scary when he wanted, and he was obviously not happy I’d called the cops instead of him.
“I’m a civilian, Brain. It’s what we do when we discover someone’s been in our apartment.”
“Your dad know yet?”
I shook my head, and he turned to look at Duke, who was pulling his cellphone out of his pocket as he stepped outside.
“Dammit, Brain. I’m a grown woman! Stop tattling to my father every time something happens!”
“We called him when you were attacked by the Disciples, when we discovered you were datin’ the DA, and now this. All seem like something a father should be notified of.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, looked at the floor, and said, “I lived up north for five years and I wasn’t attacked a single time, nor did I find listening devices in my apartment.”
“I’m thinking this has more to do with Pickering than us, Princess,” Bash said from the doorway, his voice gentle. “I sat at your table and talked about a shipment coming in, and where and when, while you were in the shower the other day. Whoever was listening in set up a sting tonight, and now the CPD has all the toys we were supposed to donate Friday.”
I turned to Brain. “I found a bug under my table, and the FBI agents found another in my bedroom. How can we be sure they found them all?”
He eyed Agent Graham, then looked back to me. “I’m sure they found everything, but I’ll bring some equipment and do my own sweep if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It will.”
Agent Graham stepped towards Bash and asked, “Can you tell me about the conversation you had on the phone? Did you in any way intimate it might be for stolen or illegal guns?”
Bash looked to Brain, who said, “We give all of our projects code names. This particular charity is code named guns and roses.”
“Why?”
“Guns for the abusers, roses for the abused,” Duke said from the doorway as he stepped back in, presumably after calling my dad. “Our track record in Atlanta leaves no doubt how the MC feels about cowards who hurt women and kids.”
“And dogs,” I added. “One of my earliest memories is my dad beating the ever living hell out of a man who was kicking his dog.”
“I’ve heard that story,” Duke said with a smile. “It’s how you got Beastie, isn’t it?”
“Wait,” said one of the agents. “You’re admitting your father assaulted someone?”
We’d been over this with the lawyers and I knew my dad was safe. “First, I was three, so the statute of limitations is long past. Second, the asshole never pressed charges or tried to get his dog back so there’d be no way to find him.”
“The versio
n of the story I heard goes on to say this was where you learned the phrase motherfucking cocksucker,” Duke said with a smile, “and your mom was even less pleased about this than about you and your dad coming home with a dog you’d renamed Beastie, and become best friends with in a mere twenty or so minutes.”
I laughed. “I only remember her being upset about the dog, but the rest sounds about right, too. God, I miss my mom.”
* * * *
It was another twenty minutes before the last of the officers and agents left. Agent Graham left his card with me, and instructions to call him should anything come up, or should I remember anything else he should know.
Part of tonight’s objective had been to show law enforcement that though I was close to the MC, I was my own person and I didn’t just do whatever they said. By calling for police when I found the bugs, instead of calling the MC, and then arguing with the guys about telling my dad, I believed we’d done a decent job. I’d been determined that this wasn’t going to hurt my career, and I felt pretty good about the picture we’d given them.
While Brain did another sweep of my apartment, Bash walked me to a wall, pressed my back against it, and kissed me as if he hadn’t seen me in weeks. His arms, the smell of his hair, the heat of his body — Bash’s touch was like no one else’s, both familiar and new, friend and lover, and when he pulled away I felt the loss of him more than I wanted to admit.
“Got shit to handle, Princess. Timing sucks, but I can’t stick around. Dawg’s gonna take your sofa tonight.” I closed my eyes and drank him in while I had him as he kissed my forehead. I would not beg him to stay. “Know I don’t have to remind either of you of the ground rules. I’ll text you when I wake up tomorrow, let you know how my evening looks.”
“Okay. Be safe.”
Chapter Eight
Angelica
I turned the TV on in my bedroom while I got ready the next morning, and did a double-take when I heard the anchor mention The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club. I was in my robe, just out of the shower, and I stepped out of the bathroom and into my bedroom to watch.
The reporter was outside of the bike shop as she talked about the police sting the night before, and noted that twenty thousand dollars’ worth of toys and playground equipment were now being held as evidence by the Chattanooga Police Department. Brain must’ve set up cameras to catch the raid, and we saw the SWAT team coming in and throwing everyone to the ground, cuffing them, frisking them.
And then we saw the officers opening boxes to find teddy bears, toy trucks, basketballs, soccer balls, crayons, magic markers, and other assorted toys.
Dawg stepped into my bedroom to watch as well, but I ignored him until the piece was over. The reporter and anchor talked to each other at the end, and we further learned the Chattanooga Police Department said they couldn’t comment on an ongoing investigation, nor could they speculate as to when the things taken into evidence might be released.
When they moved to the next story, I turned to Dawg and said, “The RTMC sure looks like the good guys here. I imagine heads will roll over this one.”
“Yeah. I hadn’t expected it to hit the news so fast.” He eyed me in my robe. “You gonna have time to go out for breakfast before you go to work?”
I shook my head. “I have time to eat, but not to wait at a restaurant. There’s eggs and bacon in the fridge. Feel free to get started on the bacon, and I’ll be in shortly to do the eggs.”
I’d set my alarm for later and skipped my run, but I never skipped breakfast.
“How do you feel about the way things played out last night?” Dawg asked as we sat down to eat.
“I know Brain said my apartment is clean, but I still don’t feel comfortable talking here.”
He nodded. “Understandable. Give yourself a few days. The FBI and Brain both went over it, you just need some time.”
“How do I know someone doesn’t come back in and put more stuff in when I leave?”
“You should be able to smell if someone’s been inside when you return. Plus, Brain’s gonna put a camera up on your door, so he can see people coming and going. You’ll lose some privacy, but we’ll know if you have visitors.”
“Shit. I don’t know whether to thank him or tell him to fuck off.”
He chuckled. “No reason you can’t do both.” He took a drink and pointed out, “You sidestepped my question. How do you feel about the way things worked out last night?”
“I think I hit my major objectives — I unofficially implicated Thomas, and I believe I gave the officers and agents the impression I’m friends with the MC but not afraid to stand up to you and go to law enforcement instead of dealing with situations the way my dad would prefer. I need to protect my job, and I’m pretty sure I did the best I could to convince the agents who’ll be deciding whether I’m a security risk.”
We’d talked a short time the night before, but I’d been exhausted and had gone to bed soon after everyone left. Now, this morning, our conversation flowed freely, and I felt comfortable with him. I knew, in the back of my mind, he and I would probably end up in a threesome. Under the circumstances I should’ve been self-conscious about it, but he put me at ease.
He followed me to my car, put me in, and told me to have a good day. As I pulled out, he started his bike. Such a normal start to my day after such a bizarre night.
* * * *
I swiped my badge to get past the lobby at work, but the red light didn’t switch to green. The guard said, “Hold up. Let me see your badge, please?”
My stomach sank into my knees as I handed it over, wondering if I’d ever get it back. He compared it to something on his computer, looked at me to compare the picture, and said, “Have a seat, please. Someone will come down to get you in a moment.”
I was taken to the top floor and questioned about my evening for two hours. And then, when I thought it was over, they hooked me up to a polygraph and asked most of the questions all over again.
When they finally let me go, they merely gave me my badge and told me they’d let me know if there were more questions. I met my supervisor in the hallway and realized she’d been in the observation room. When the elevator doors closed she said, “Stupid bureaucratic fuckwads. They let me observe but I couldn’t participate. Shit, it isn’t bad enough you were victimized in your own home, your privacy violated, but then you had to go through this bullshit, too.”
“Am I going to lose my job?”
She shook her head. “No, they’re just covering their asses — following procedure like good little government mice-on-a-wheel. No one’s honestly worried about a bunch of bikers stealing energy secrets. You might run into trouble if you associate with the felons, so just make sure none of them come to your home and you aren’t seen in public with them.”
A few of the scientists had explained to me on the second day that they often made discoveries in spite of the bureaucrats. There were clearly classes of people in the building complex — the engineers and scientists, the government paper pushers, the security people, and the support staff. So far, I liked the engineers, the scientists, and the support staff, and could do without the rest.
I worked the rest of the day and then drove to a big box store for a large cooler and some ice, stopped by the slaughterhouse to pick up fifty pounds of fresh killed beef I’d ordered a few days before, and then followed my phone’s GPS to Randall Bevering’s house.
Bash would be pissed I came alone, but it was important I come as a lone wolf and not someone officially attached to the RTMC. The Alpha knew who my dad was, of course, but I still wanted to physically come alone.
I parked in front of his impressive home and walked around my tiny car to get the cooler out of the passenger seat. I’d belted it in, to be sure it stayed put, and I heard him chuckle from his front porch as I released the seat belt and pulled it from the car.
He met me in his yard and I settled the cooler in front of my legs. I tipped my head down in respect before looking him in
the eyes and offering my hand as I said, “Thanks for agreeing to see me. I won’t take up too much of your time. The cooler and its contents are yours.”
He looked at me speculatively as he shook my hand, and then leaned forward to open the cooler.
“I don’t demand fealty or payment from the lone wolves I allow to live in my territory, Angelica.”
“I know, and I appreciate it, but I wanted to show my respect and thanks.”
“Let’s go around back,” he said as he lifted the cooler and started walking. I followed, and as we stepped up and into a beautiful screened-in porch, he asked, “I assume the beef will be okay while we talk? Or should I go ahead and put it in the freezer, first?”
“It’s fresh killed, so you may want to put some in the refrigerator, instead of the freezer.”
He grinned. “My brother doesn’t do anything halfway, and now you have me wanting steak. Have you eaten?”
I shook my head. “I came straight from work, but I won’t be here long enough to eat. I don’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense,” he said as he opened his grill and fiddled with some nobs. “Now, tell me why you’re really here. Your father arranged for you to live here — the visit wasn’t necessary, much less the considerate gift.”
“I’m sure you’re aware I was allowed to run with the Pack up north, and after two and a half years was given Friend of the Pack status. Before I left, I was informed it’s permanent, and even if I’m gone twenty years I’ll still be welcome if I return.”
He closed the grill and leaned over to open the cooler. “I can’t give you the same deal here, Angelica. College kids who are Pack members elsewhere, I sometimes let run with us, but not always. You aren’t a college kid or a Pack member.”
“I’m not asking for that, Sir.”
His look clearly told me to stop beating around the bush and ask my question. “The truth is, I’m asking you to let me keep my options open. When I first moved to Chattanooga, I intended to ask you if I could run with you on the full moon a couple of months, to decide if I wanted to take the Oath, go through the Ceremony, and become Pack.”
Bash, Volume II Page 6