by Ana Stone
His next move was to check a special app on his phone. Roxy Quinn had no clue that she was a walking GPS. With the app on his phone he could get data on where she’d been and how long she was there. Since he’d had her phone tapped he could also listen to her conversations.
He felt heat rise on his face as he listened to her call to Zeke. Anger spiked a notch higher when he saw that she’d not gone to the gym as she’d said, but home. No doubt to see Zeke.
West pushed the anger back. Letting it take control just mean muddling his focus and he wouldn’t allow that. He was going to take the MC down, and like it or not, she was going to help. In time she’d come to see that it was for the best.
Zeke and his band of thugs were just that. Thugs. Men without respect for the law or the government. They didn’t deserve to live among free men. They belonged behind bars and that’s where he’d see them.
It didn’t matter who Zeke had once been, or what his friendship had once meant to West. He’d crossed the line and West wouldn’t tolerate that. It was his job to make sure that people like the MC were brought to justice and he was very good at his job. He got it done – regardless of how many rules had to be bent.
He put his phone back into his pocket. He might as well head on back to the hotel and go over the day’s reports before Roxy picked him up. There might be something he could use to sway her to his side.
*****
Dillon Morris was on the phone ten seconds after West Franklin left his office. His associates in New York might not be pleased with the deal he’d cut with Franklin, but as he saw it, he hadn’t had a choice. He was still on the phone when his secretary tapped on his door to let him know Chief Phillips was there to see him.
Dillon instructed her to send the Chief in and quickly ended his call. The moment Phillips entered Dillon started in on him.
“What the fuck?” He snapped at Art. “I should fire your sorry ass right now. That –NCS agent showed up here threatening me. How the fuck did he find out about our operation?”
Art took a seat in the middle of the barrage and waited for its end. “He’s CIA, what do you think?”
“What I think is I pay you damn well to make sure we’re safe in this fucking backwater state and it would appear that I’ve wasted a lot of money.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Dillon leaned forward with his arms on his desk. “He said either I play ball and help him nail the Renegades or he turns over what he has on me to Federal Prosecutors and we go down.”
“And?”
“And?” Dillon bellowed. "And I said yes, you fucking hillbilly shit. What the hell else could I do?”
“Nothing. Did he offer immunity?”
“Yes.”
“Then it would seem to me his deal gets you exactly what you want, Mr. Mayor.”
“And just how do you see that?”
Art shook his head. “If you’d get your head out of your ass for five seconds you’d see. Immunity from prosecution means the Feds can’t come after you or your holdings. At least not for what they have on you now. That gives you time to reorganize, cook the books and make sure if they take a look down the road, they don’t find anything.
“And it gives you what you’ve wanted all along. An end to the MC.”
Dillon’s anger suddenly evaporated. Art was right. All he had to do was get Franklin’s promise in writing, something that would stand up in court, and he was safe. He could obliterate Reese Justice and all of his hoodlum bikers in one fell swoop. Then he could make arrangements with his associates to move in and fill the vacuum in the drug and gun business that would be left behind.
Suddenly what had seemed a disaster was looking like a blessing from heaven. He considered it for a moment and smiled. “What’s happening on the charges against Reese and those other two for the guns?”
“They have an upcoming court date.”
“Any idea who will hear the case?”
Art shook his head. “It’s a County matter, so it could be any one of six judges.”
“We have anything on any of them?”
“A couple.”
“Let’s reach out to those and see if they can arrange for the hearing to take place in one of their courts. Let them know it could be lucrative if those thugs do hard time.”
“You take Reese out of the action and the deals with the drugs and guns the MC has going will fall apart. If that happens, you lose your edge with Franklin.”
“Fuck!” Dillon had not considered that. “Then let’s play it another way. Make it appealing to the judges for the MC to walk. And…” he smiled widely as inspiration hit. ”Go to Reese Justice and let him know that I’ll get him and his boys off if they are willing to play ball.”
“Just where are you headed with that?”
“Right where I want to be,” Dillon said and leaned back in his chair with a contented smile. “I want in on their action. Drugs and guns. An equal partner. If they go for it, I get all the ammunition I need to put them away for life.”
Art nodded but said nothing, not the reaction Dillon wanted. “Remember which side your bread is buttered, Art. If I go down, I’m sure as hell taking you with me.”
“I figured as much.”
“So are you in?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Oh, there’s always a choice,” Dillon replied. “Question is are you going to make the smart choice and end up a rich man, or the dumb one and go down with that band of criminals?”
Art stood. “Rich sounds good.”
“Excellent,” Dillon said and stood with a smile. “I want to move fast on this.”
“I’ll get started today. Be in touch.”
“I want to know what’s happening every step of the way.”
“When I have something you’ll be the first to know.”
“Good.”
Dillon watched Art leave then picked up the phone again. As soon as it was answered he started talking. “It’s me. This is going to work to our advantage, but we need to cover our bases for the future. Make sure all accounting from the businesses here is transferred to the NY holdings. Everything. Set up a new holding company and transfer all the stock to it. The operations here will be nothing more than operations. Give them a contract for an annual fee to oversee things. But no corporate decisions or collections go through here. Do whatever it takes to cover our asses.”
He hung up and sat back with a satisfied smile. Finally, he would get his revenge on Reese Justice. Whoever said that revenge was a dish best served cold was a jackass. His fire for revenge was as hot as a torch and he’d relish watching Justice and all his thugs burn.
*****
West grinned when he answered the door of his suite and saw Roxy standing there. Talk about a bombshell. Her hair, normally worn pulled back in a tight ponytail, was loose, cascading in a tumble of soft waves and curls over her shoulders. In place of the drab police uniform, tonight she was dressed in a tight short denim skirt that rode low on her hips with a low cut top sporting spaghetti straps that emphasized her full breasts and small waist.
Those long legs of hers were bare, with a pair of flat soled sandals decorated with beads. A casual but all together sexy look that definitely made parts of his anatomy want to stand up and salute. The only thing that detracted from her appearance was a round patch of puckered red skin on the right side of her chest, just above her breast, obviously the scar from the gunshot she’d sustained at the hotel shootout.
“You ready?” she asked.
“Let me grab my hat. You want to have a drink before we go?”
She hesitated for a beat. “Okay, sure.”
“Then come on in.”
She stepped inside and he closed the door behind her. When she laughed, he turned to look at her in surprise.
“Sorry,” she said and gestured around. “This is … well, let’s just say it’s …unique.”
West laughed. He was growing immune to the décor in the bridal suit
e. Whoever had decorated the place had some kind of weird sense of style. From the all-white furniture with red and pink pillows that looked like huge flowers with floppy petals, to the faux gold statuettes of lovers in the sitting room to the round bed with filmy drapes circling half if it, it was definitely something to see.
“Yeah, it’s … well, I don’t know what to call it except the only suite they have. So, that drink. All I have is bourbon.”
“That’s fine.” She wandered across the sitting room and took a seat on the sofa, moving several of the flowery pillows to the side.
West went to the small bar on one side of the room and poured two drinks. “Ice?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Neat is fine.”
“My kinda woman,” he replied and crossed the room to her with a drink in each hand. He handed her one and took a seat beside her. “Cheers,” he raised his glass.
Roxy clinked her glass lightly against his and took a small sip of the drink. West downed about half of his and set the glass on the coffee table. “So, tell me about this place, Pete’s?”
She put her glass on the table before responding. “Actually, I was thinking it might be nice to get out of Harmony for the evening. Maybe some place in Beaufort or Morehead. I don’t know the area very well, but I did ride around Beaufort on one of my days off a few weeks ago and there are some interesting places on the waterfront.”
“Embarrassed to be seen with me in town?”
“No.” she answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Just don’t want to encourage any talk, if you know what I mean.”
“Or don’t want certain people to see us together.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He knew he’d hit a nerve. Hell, he’d intended to. She had something going with Zeke. He wanted to know how serious it was and he didn’t have a firm bead on that at the moment. On the one hand, she’d showed up, dressed sexy. Not the kind of outfit a woman wore to have dinner with a colleague or someone she planned on having strictly a professional relationship with. On the other hand, nothing about her behavior suggested flirtation or even an invitation for him to be. Add to that the fact that she didn’t want to be seen with him in Harmony and what was the picture here?
Several possibilities came to mind. First, she had no interest in him other than professionally and was there out of a sense of duty. Second, she was interested but was not comfortable letting anyone know because of her job. Third, she was in deep with Zeke and was there to try and get information out of him that might help Zeke.
He’d bet his badge on the third, which did not make him happy at all. But knowing the obstacles that had to be overcome was the first step and he wasn’t about to admit defeat before he even got started.
“Nothing,” he back-pedaled. “Probably smart. And I’m not hard to please.”
She smiled in what he read as relief. “Somehow I doubt that, but thanks. I don’t know what the Chief would think and I don’t want trouble.”
“You think the Chief would have a problem with us having dinner?”
She shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t know the man or how he thinks. I’d just prefer to err on the side of caution.”
“Well, then Beaufort it is.” He picked up his glass, downed the rest of his drink and stood. “Your car or mine?”
“Up to you.”
“Since you know where we’re going, yours.”
“Works for me.”
West spent the time the drive took asking her about the various shop keepers in the town she’d met, and general perceptions about the town. He avoided any mention of Zeke or the Renegades. Her answers were almost military reports she was so precise in her answers and he got the feeling that her mind was elsewhere. Something to do with Zeke?
Possibly, but the evening was young. He had time to refocus her attention and with luck change her attitude about several things, including Zeke Justice.
She found a place to park and they wandered the waterfront for half an hour before deciding on a tavern. It was small and not crowded, with a long wooden bar, a dozen tables, booths along two walls and several small tables outside on a small deck overlooking the water.
They ordered drinks and chose a table on the deck. After a few minutes conversation waned. Roxy sat looking out at the water, a preoccupied expression on her face. She did not even react when the waitress delivered their drinks.
“Penny for your thoughts.” West said.
She looked at him and he could see from the expression on her face that something was bothering her. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She got up and walked the few steps to the rail on the deck. West followed to lean one elbow on the rail, angled to face her. It took nearly a minute before she turned her head to look at him.
When their eyes met everything around them fell away, like a thick fog that dissolves to reveal a previously unseen landscape.
They stood on the shore, a mist swirling around them in the wane light of a half moon. She wore a loose white shift that twisted around her in the wind, revealing her legs to mid thigh. Her arms were bare and her long hair whipped around her like a dark sail of silk in the wind.
He reached for her and felt the tension in her body. “I can’t.” She whispered. “You know I can’t.”
“But you want to,” he replied.
“I’m married,” she insisted even though she allowed herself to be pulled closer.
“To the wrong man.” He argued, running his hands up to cup her face.
“I can’t.” She said again.
“Yes. You can.” He insisted as he claimed her lips with his.
He felt her resistance, the stiffness of her body and lips, but instead of relenting, pressed tighter, deepening the kiss. Her resistance weakened. Her hands moved to his sides, gripping his shirt to pull him more firmly against her. She returned the kiss with need and hunger that spelled her desire.
He felt a thrill of victory. She wanted him and he would make her his, no matter what he had to do.
When the kiss ended, she looked up at him. “Why can’t I make you understand?”
“I do understand. You lie to me and him and even to yourself. The truth is here, right now, in your kiss. You want me.”
“And what do you want?”
“I want you to be mine.”
Roxy’s gasp catapulted him back through the fog to the present. Her face wore an expression of confusion and fear. He took advantage of the vulnerability the moment provided and reached out to run one hand behind her head and pull her to him.
“You can’t fight fate,” he said just before he kissed her.
Roxy’s mind was in a whirl. What the hell was happening to her? It was confusing and frightening enough to have this kind of thing happening with Zeke, but now West? Was she losing her mind?
She was barely aware of his touch until his lips met hers. She didn’t want to react and was shocked at the rush of lust that sprang to life within her. God help her but his kiss affected her like drugs to an addict. One taste and she could not stop herself from responding, from straining into him and returning the kiss with need that seemed insatiable.
Had it not been for the sudden image of Zeke in her mind, she would have been lost. She tore away from West. “What the hell is going on?”
He shrugged with a smile sexy enough to melt her resolve. “Fate?”
She moved away from him. “I…Jesus, I don’t even know what to say. This isn’t right. Normal. Stuff like this – this is – damn, I don’t have a clue what this is.”
West saw his opening and took it. He reached for her hand. “Roxy, we need to talk.”
“You know what this is? What just happened?”
“I have a theory, but it’s not about that.”
“Then what?”
“The Renegades.”
He saw surprise register on her face. “What about them?”
“Let’s sit.”
She let him lead her back to the table. She picke
d up her glass and drained it, blew out her breath and turned to look at him. “Okay, tell me.”
West took a swallow from his drink and looked up at the waitress who’d stuck her head out of the door to signal her for two more drinks. Then he scooted his chair chose to Roxy’s.
“The Renegades are in bed with the Mexican Mafia. They’re in a joint operation with them cooking meth at the new phosphate mine and are supplying the Mexicans with guns. Not simply handguns. Military grade weapons.”
She did not seem particularly shocked. “You have proof?”
“Not enough to take them down. That’s why I’m here. We have Intel from one of the South American cartels. They’ve joined forces with the Mexican Mafia, and some of the guns are going to them. And they have associations with terrorist cells.”
“How could the MC be running that big of a gun operation? Or drugs for that matter?”
“They have contacts that are getting the guns in at several marinas around this area. They’re using other Renegade charters and the Mexican Mafia’s connections for distribution.”
“Allegedly,” she stated.
“There’s compelling evidence to suggest I’m right, Roxy.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “Okay, let’s say you are. How is it you think I can help? I’m just a small town deputy.”
“The Chief of Police is part of it.”
Again he noted her lack of surprise. At that moment the waitress returned with their second round of drinks. West drained his first and handed her the empty. When she left, Roxy took a healthy swallow from her glass.
“And you want me to get the goods on Chief Phillips.”
“And Zeke Justice.” He might have jumped the gun, but figured he might as well go all in on this particular hand.
She definitely reacted to that. “What makes you think Zeke’s involved? The way I hear it, he and others like Eli, Rice and Six-Pack don’t want any part of the MC’s illegal activities.”
“Yeah? Then why are they still there? And still involved in shoot-outs with rival gangs over stolen weapons?”
She blew out a breath and lifted her glass. “I guess you don’t know much about what it means to be part of a club.”