Sweet Revenge (The Nighthawks MC Book 2)

by Bella Knight

  “And Mommy Dearest probably 3D printed the parts,” said Ace, “she is highly intelligent, and an expert programmer. Don’t think you can follow all her tracks!” He sipped his Coke.

  “We’ll need to put you under police protection,” said Hernandez.

  “That’s fine for Lily, and for my brother, but I...” his face went white, “fuck me! I…”

  Henry reached out, grabbed his wrist, “Gregory and Bannon are on it.”

  “Who?” said Guerrero.

  “Eric Bannon?” asked Hernandez, “of High Desert Armament and Security?”

  “Yes,” said Henry, “they’re opening up an office here, and they already have one in Arizona.”

  “Call off your dogs for the brother,” said Hernandez, “they’re the best at what they do, aboveboard, mostly military.”

  “I’ll be going there, but Lily…” said Ace.

  “Got that nailed down,” said Henry, “wait till Lily is situated, then go.”

  “Ask your questions,” said Ace, “there’s someplace I have to be.”

  Guerrero pulled out a recorder and a notebook, “You aren’t leaving town!” she said.

  “Are you charging my client with something?” asked Carol, “if you aren’t, he can go anywhere he wants.”

  Hernandez pulled out her own recorder and notebook, “Pit Bull, you cause more problems than you solve.”

  Carol laughed and winked.

  She turned to Ace and hit the record button on her recorder, “I’m in the apartment of Aiden Dolan, who goes by Ace. Also present are Special Agent Deanna Guerrero and Henry Whitehorse, of the motorcycle club known as the Nighthawks, attorney of record for Aiden Dolan by the name of Carol Laughton, and what seems to be half the Nighthawks. Now, Ace, when did you become aware of the problems with your father’s company?”

  “I suspected it for a while,” said Ace, sitting on the last remaining bar stool, “about a year ago one of my father’s longtime foremen, Dave Braichard, was moved from job to job, then let go from the company after nearly twenty-five years. I worked construction, and I heard about it. It seemed strange, but I figured my father, who was not a calm man, and he had a falling out. I then heard that their longtime secretary, Roberta Bach, was also fired after almost twenty years. Then a foreman named Russ Quinlan was also booted out.”

  “We’ve talked to all of them,” said Hernandez, “the foremen have verified being moved around from job to job like chess pieces, then fired. Project managers were also switched in the middle of a project, and one was eventually let go.”

  “That makes no sense,” said Luis, who was cleaning the waffle iron, “my son Juan is in construction. Project managers are like gold.”

  “What Luis said,” said Ace, “my mother was moving people around and firing them when they got too close to finding out about her embezzling scheme.”

  “Keep going.”

  He took a drink of Coke, “Or so I assume. I didn’t work my father’s job sites. There’s plenty of other work out here, mostly rehabbing. My dad did mostly new construction.”

  “Why did you stop working construction?” asked Hernandez, “it’s the height of the construction season. You left a great job in Tahoe to come here.”

  Guerrero looked in her notes as Ivy came over, resting her hands on the bar on the other side of Hernandez, “He invested in my bar,” said Lily.

  “Yeah, it’s right here,” said Guerrero, “where’d you get the money?”

  “Trust fund and working two jobs,” said Ace.

  “Why’d you agree to work for a hooker?” asked Guerrero.

  Ivy laughed, “Because I know how to run a business!”

  “Get out. Take your FBI people and get out. Get far away. Very far away,” said Ace, his jaw clenched, “Hernandez can stay. You’re gone. Permanently. I’m never speaking to you again, and neither is Lily.”

  Every single person in the room, except for Ivy and Hernandez, stood stiffly. Hostility flowed through the room.

  “Her ex-profession is no secret,” said Guerrero, making no move to turn off her recorder or leave.

  Carlos opened the door. Ace was absolutely still, glaring daggers at Guerrero.

  “This interview is over,” said Carol, “as my client says, the door is over there. He’s also declined police protection for himself and for Lily.”

  “I have to hear that from her,” said Guerrero.

  Lily stood in the doorway, her face absolutely white, her bandage a stark white against her hair, “I refuse all protection from the FBI, and I’ve said all there is to say to the FBI. Get the fuck out of our house,” she said.

  “She seems to have made a full recovery,” said Guerrero.

  Carol had the phone to her ear, “The complaint will be on your supervisor’s desk in an hour,” she said, “you’ve been asked to leave several times, and the door is open. Go out of it. Now. And, we’ve been recording the conversation too. I’m sure your boss would love to know how you’ve antagonized your own witness.”

  Ace leaned down and looked Guerrero right in the eyes, “Get. Out. Now.”

  She slowly stood, as if she had all the time in the world. She turned off the recorder, took her jacket, and left.

  “Thanks for the pancakes,” she said and sauntered out. Carlos closed the door behind her.

  Hernandez left her recorder running, “Does that apply to me?” She watched out of the corner of her eye as Ivy helped Lily to the breakfast bar, moving very slowly.

  “For now, no,” said Ace, who turned and strode towards Lily.

  “Come over, baby, and sit down. Luis, fire up the waffle maker again.”

  “Hers is right here,” he said, “just gotta fire it up in the microwave.” He turned and put a plate in the microwave, and started it.

  Ace picked Lily up and carried her to the recliner. Henry came over with a blanket. Ivy went to get the food and some orange juice from Luis and brought it back on a tray. Hernandez picked up her recorder and walked it and herself over to the end of the couch.

  She put the recorder on a side table, “Do you want me to stop the recording?”

  “Fifteen minutes,” said Carol, “then, we’ll get this over with. Both of them were thrown through the air last night. They both need rest.”

  Hernandez turned off the recording. She rubbed the back of her neck, “So was I. And I didn’t have the protection of their leather, and I’ve been up all night.”

  Carol walked over and leaned against the wall near the widescreen TV, “The FBI guys are still downstairs, talking to Guerrero.”

  “I’ll call and report to my captain,” said Hernandez. She picked up the recorder, walked to the kitchen, and called to make her report.

  Lily ate slowly. Ace kept a hand on her knee.

  Hernandez came back and sat down, “I talked to Lieutenant Francis Xavier, my boss. I uploaded the interview to him, and he’s stone cold furious. He said Guerrero will be lucky to stay on the case after he gets done talking to her boss.”

  “Good,” said Carol.

  “Stupid pit bull,” said Hernandez, “she has her eyes on your club, you know.”

  “We have a daycare center,” said Ace, “and soon, a school.”

  “She won’t let go,” Hernandez warned, “she’s on a case, and she thinks you’re in it somehow.”

  Henry came over with two cups of coffee. He gave one to Hernandez and kept the other one for himself, “Thank you,” she said.

  “How the fuck would we be involved with Ace’s parents?” asked Henry, “most of us do rehab work. I put the word out when Ace joined and I heard his story that his father was bad news, and to stay away from his construction business.”

  Everyone listened.

  Henry took a sip of his coffee, “Our people aren’t day workers. They are carpenters and electricians and stonemasons. Ace here got out of construction, and some of the Nighthawks are trying to do the same thing. Too cyclical. Not enough steady work and the economy jumps up and do
wn all the time. Projects get started and abandoned all the time, and winter work is hard to come by.”

  There was a knock on the door, “That’ll be my partner, Juliet Davis,” said Hernandez.

  “Let her in, Carlos,” said Henry. Carlos opened the door to a woman with black hair, flat features, a rounded face, and muscles that obviously lifted weights. She was in a dark gray suit. She moved like a cat.

  Henry brought over a chair, “Coffee or Coke? We might have some orange juice.”

  Davis sat down gratefully, “Coke, please,” she said in a rock-steady voice.

  “Detective Davis, met Ace Dolan, Lily Pierce, Henry, Carlos at the door, Ivy, and a bunch of guys in the kitchen,” she said.

  “Would you like pecan waffles with strawberries, and bacon?” asked Henry, bringing Davis her Coke.

  “Is that a trick question?” asked Davis. Henry smiled and went to get a plate from Luis.

  Luis walked by, a case of chef’s knives in his hands, “Thanks for breakfast,” said Lily, her voice a little hoarse, “perfect.”

  “You’re welcome. Ace, Lily, rest well. I made chicken salad with grapes and apples and some artisan bread for later.”

  “Can I marry you?” asked Lily.

  “Hey!” said Ace. Henry and Ivy laughed. Carlos let Luis out.

  “We were just getting to the financial improprieties at Ace’s parent's companies,” said Hernandez. Ivy took Lily’s dirty dishes into the kitchen and came back with the detective’s breakfast on a tray.

  “Sounds good,” said Davis.

  Henry dragged over a barstool for himself and one for Ivy, and they sat on the couch, “Let’s do this so we can all go home,” said Hernandez; she turned the recorder back on.

  Stupid and Dumbass

  After the LVMPD Financial Crimes detectives left, Ivy slept after Lily received a dose of painkillers in the chair. Carol went to her office to make more phone calls, presumably about getting Guerrero off the case. Danvers, a tiny black man, and Joaquim, an extremely tall guy with a military haircut, took the last of the plates and washed them.

  “I’ve got Elena duty,” said Danvers. He was one of the nurses assigned to Elena, the little girl recovering from an acid attack. Henry waved at him to go.

  Henry called out. “Darla, come out here!”

  She popped out. Darla was small, but her boots were steel-toed. She projected a quiet competence.

  “You two go downstairs and cover the entrances to the building. The FBI is supposed to get off the property,” they turned on a dime and headed out.

  “Those two dating?” asked Lily.

  “Probably,” said Ivy, “they’re both ex-military. The chances of them telling us anything is diddly and squat.” Ivy stood and stretched, “I, unfortunately, have a temp bar back to hire, about a thousand cases of beer to order and sign for, and God knows what else.”

  “Hire two,” said Ace, “we wanted to open the other bar on the other side of the dance floor.”

  That bar was currently just used as a counter, but it had been built.

  “Fuck,” said Lily, “Bella needs my speed.”

  “Get two good bar backs,” said Ace, “and send Bella over there. You can be speedy at the main one.”

  Ivy strode towards the door, “You get some sleep, dumb butt. You were damn near blown up last night.” Carlos opened the door for her.

  “Thanks, Carlos,” she said and strode up.

  “So much anger,” said Henry.

  “Damn that hair band music,” said Ace. They both laughed.

  “Woman has a point,” said Henry, moving the bar chairs back to the counter, “get some rest.”

  “You too, old man,” said Ace. Henry snorted. Ace took his own dose of painkillers and went back to bed.

  Ivy found a woman and a man by her back door. She took them back, had them fill out applications, and banged out a huge liquor order. The female was done first. She was an Amerindian, Nina Whitehorse.

  “You related to Henry?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” she said, “been bar backing two years now. The Silver Wolf closed last week. Hoping this temporary gig turns into something permanent.”

  The other guy, Michael Roche, had a shock of curly red hair and huge ears. His voice was thin and reedy. He was stocky with muscles that pointed to working out.

  “Worked at the casinos,” he said, “took a job with a little club, The Vantage, on the north end of town. The Vantage is closed for renovation, be open again sometime next year. I’d like permanent too if it works out that way.”

  The Vantage was a strip club, so neither the loud rock music nor ladies dancing on plinths were likely to really phase him.

  Ivy called their references while they filled out W-2s for taxes, “You both check out,” she said. She went online, and marked the ad as, “filled.”

  “Come with me,” she said.

  She had them fill up the other bar and the bar cart hidden behind from stock, while she took several liquor deliveries, and sent away several other hopeful bar back applicants.

  They were fast, getting beers iced and the shelves dusted and stocked.

  Bella came in and danced in place with excitement, “You got me help!” she said, hugging Ivy.

  “Get off of me, you weirdo,” said Ivy, “you’ll take the dance bar, and I’ll get the main one. You take the red-haired guy, Mike. I’ll take Nina Whitehorse.”

  “She related to Henry?” asked Bella.

  “Apparently, everyone’s related to Henry,” said Ivy, “now help me get these fucking cases into the cooler. At this rate, I’ll have to take deliveries every hour, on the hour.” She stood and massaged her back.

  “I forgot,” said Bella, grabbing the dolly stacked with cases of beer, “Ace and Ivy okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, “just peachy. Just because they almost got blown up yesterday, they up and take the night off!”

  “Sucks to be us!” said Bella.

  The evening went much better. The bands rocked. Ivy and Nina developed a rhythm. Ivy served as many people as she could and took the money. Nina kept the bar stocked, the ice filled, and the bar cart filled. If things were full, she filled the cocktail servers’ trays or handed beers to Ivy. She looked like an echo of Henry when she smiled, and her laugh was as full as his.

  On the very few slow times, Ivy grabbed receipts and C-notes from both tills with a receipt and ran back to count and put the money in the safe. She didn’t get the chance to dance with the dancers or work the tables, but they never got two deep at the bars like they had before.

  She did notice the number of club members, not just Nighthawks. The Sin City Crows came in; they were a bunch of gearheads who fiddled with their bikes to no-end between rides. They carried saps in their pockets; no one fought with them for long.

  The Iron Knights came and went, they were actually current and former military and police that liked to travel. Henry had good relations with them after helping them with a member who had a seizure at a truck stop. Henry knew where there was a doctor in a one-stoplight town. The Bright Light Babes hung out at both bars and took turns dancing with each other. They liked to dance and party, and they all had concealed weapon permits. Ivy had considered joining them, but Ace was in the Nighthawks, so she stayed with them.

  The end came, and the bar backs were instrumental in getting everything done behind the bars. Ivy gave Nina a chunk of change for her tips and took the money from the drawers after they were zeroed out. She discovered that she made nearly ten percent more with the bar backs than without them. She made sure Adam and the cooks gave rides to everyone that needed them.

  When she left the office with her deposit bag in hand, both Bella and Nina were still there, chatting over some Cokes.

  Ivy said, “Let’s roll,” and they went out the back.

  Two guys were there, one the size of Adam, the other a skinny guy with a big .44.

  Ivy just stared at them, “What do you want?” she said.


  “Where’s Ace?”

  “In there,” Ivy said, hooking a thumb behind her.

  She stepped aside. The guy with the gun gestured towards the girls, “Make sure them broads don’t move,” he said and took a step forward.

  The shot came from behind and to the right. Ivy pulled Bella down and behind her with one hand, shoving the deposit bag into her stomach, as she pulled out a throwing knife from her boot with the other. Bella grabbed the bag. Nina ran forward and shot the moose guy in the gut. He went down like a tree as she tasered him, his muscles spasming. The gun guy reached for his gun with his other hand; he had been shot in the shoulder holding his weapon. He was yelling. Ivy ran forward and kicked him in the balls with one boot, and when he fell he crushed his hand with the other boot. He howled.

  Two of the Knights ran forward, “You ladies alright?” asked Dozer, the one with the sleepy eye.

  “We’re good,” said Ivy.

  She sheathed her blade and stepped back. The other guy, Tank, was nearly as large as the guy on the ground. He rolled the guy on his side and cuffed his hands behind him with a twist tie. Dozer kicked the gun aside and pointed a Glock at the man’s face.

  “Well, looks like we’ve got Jimmy Vala. And Tiny here is one of his special friends, isn’t he, Tiny?” Tiny groaned.

  Tank was on the phone, “Hernandez says she’s coming.”

  “I texted Henry,” said Nina, “he’s coming with Inola.”

  Ivy glanced over at Bella. Bella was still standing in front of the door, with one hand clutching the deposit bag, and her other hand in her pocket. Ivy suspected she had either a gun or a knife in there and was fingering the weapon.

  “I’ve got cameras if you need the digital file,” said Ivy.

  “It will be helpful for the ‘Officer Involved Shooting Report,’” said Dozer, “if you can wait until the ambulance shows up for Stupid and the car for Dumbass here, that would be better.”

  “They better hurry,” said Ivy, “if Henry gets here first, he’ll grab that taser and shoot both of them again.”