Riggs: Satan’s Fury MC: Memphis Chapter

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Riggs: Satan’s Fury MC: Memphis Chapter Page 6

by Wilder, L.

“I’m really happy to hear you say that.” I smiled. “Thank you, Myles.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” With his coffee in hand, he stood up, and as he started for the door, he tossed me his car keys. “You have a lot of work ahead of you … driving included.”

  “I’m good with that.”

  I followed him out of the office and down to his car. As soon as I was buckled in, he asked, “You still have the address to that apartment complex?”

  “Absolutely.” I knew the damn thing by heart. I’d already driven by it twice, and I couldn’t wait to go inside and see what we’d find. “It’s the Bailey Apartments, apartment 302. They’re just a few blocks from here.”

  “Well, let’s get to it.”

  With a quick nod, I started his car and drove over to the apartment complex. A rush of an apprehension surged through me as we pulled up to the building. Myles seemed completely unbothered by the fact that neither of us had any idea what we would find in that apartment. For all we knew, we were putting our lives in danger by going into that building, but he didn’t give it a second thought as he got out of the car and started walking towards the front door. I sat there for a minute, trying to steady my nerves, and after several seconds, I remembered that Rodrigo was dead. That alone was enough for me to conquer my doubts and get out of the car —that, and the hope we might actually find out something interesting. Once we’d made it upstairs, I looked over to Myles and smiled. To my surprise, I was actually glad that he was there with me. Just having him close kept me grounded as I stepped up to door labeled 302 and knocked. I’m not sure what I was expecting to find on the other side of the door, but I certainly didn’t expect to find an attractive, white male standing there in his bathrobe. He was a little younger than me with shaggy brown hair and an athletic build.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so.” I extended my hand as I said, “I’m Reece Winters, and this is my colleague Myles Dixon. We’re reporters for the Memphis Metro, and I was hoping you might answer a few questions for me.”

  He glanced over at Myles as he replied, “Yeah, I guess I could try.”

  “Okay. Why don’t we start with your name?”

  “I’m Jason Brazzle.”

  “Okay. Great, Jason.” I smiled as I pulled a picture of Rodrigo out of my back pocket. “Have you seen this man before?”

  He glanced over at the photograph, and his eyes widened when he saw that it was Rodrigo. It was clear from his expression that he recognized him, but he replied, “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen this man before. I wish I could be of more help to you, but—”

  “Are you sure?” I held the picture closer to him as I pushed, “I’ve heard from a reliable source that he was seen here at your apartment.”

  His tone became bitter as he snapped, “Your source must be mistaken because that man has never been here before.”

  “Are you sure you haven’t seen him in the hall or maybe in the elevator?”

  “I wish I could be of more help, but I already told you, I’ve never seen the guy before.”

  There was no doubt in my mind that he was lying, and when I glanced back at Myles, I could tell he was thinking the same. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything either of us could do about it. Having no other choice, I returned the photograph to my back pocket and said, “Okay. Well, I won’t waste any more of your time. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. If you happen to remember something … anything whatsoever, just give me a call.”

  After he took my business card, he gave me an anxious smile. “I sure will, and good luck on finding this guy.”

  “Oh, we’re not trying to find him. He was murdered a few days ago, and there are some questions surrounding his death.” His face grew pale as I continued, “We’re just hoping to find out who actually killed him.”

  “Oh,” he muttered.

  He nodded and then quickly shut the door. Without saying a word, Myles and I turned and headed downstairs. Once we got in his car, he looked over to me and said, “You did good up there.”

  “He was lying. He knows something. I could feel it.”

  “Yeah. I thought the same thing, but you handled him like a champ. Did you see his face when you mentioned Rodrigo’s murder?”

  “Yeah. He looked pretty freaked out, but you saw him, he doesn’t exactly look like the type of guy who’d be mixed up with the cartel.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Maybe he’s just spooked. Let’s give him some time, and maybe we can try talking to him again later.”

  “Okay. That’s a good plan.”

  As he started the car, he asked, “It’s still early. How about a quick trip to Arkansas? If we leave now, we can be there before ten.”

  “Sure, Sounds good to me.”

  “I was hoping you would say that.”

  When he pulled out onto the main road, I reached in my purse for my phone. I sent my mother a text, letting her know that there was a chance I would be working late, and she might have to pick up Tate from daycare. I hoped that we would be back before they closed, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Just like I had expected, my mother immediately responded to my message, saying that she would be happy to help. Feeling relieved, I turned my attention back to Myles. We spent the next two hours going over different strategies, and by the time we made it to Little Rock, I felt like we had a solid plan. Unfortunately, there were some unforeseen obstacles that made things more difficult than we expected. Our first hiccup struck at the police station. As soon as we arrived, we were sent to a small desk in the center of the station where we were introduced to Alan McKnight, the lead detective on Rodrigo’s case. He was an older gentleman with thick white hair that was slicked back away from his face like one of those sleazy gangster guys you see in the movies. His wrinkled gray suit hung on his shoulders, making me wonder if he’d slept in it the night before, and the intense scowl he gave me as I approached his desk didn’t exactly make me feel welcome.

  “Daniels said you had some questions for me?” he grumbled.

  “Yes.” Trying my best to ignore his foul mood, I smiled and said, “I’m Reece Winters, and this is Myles Dixon. We’re from the Memphis Metro, and I was hoping we could discuss the Navarro case with you.”

  “I don’t have much time on my hands, lady. The case is still under investigation, and we’ve already released what we can. You can read about it in the City Gazette just like everyone else.”

  “Yes, I’m very aware of that, detective.” Like most states, Arkansas released information about arrests and criminal convictions, but if a case was still being investigated, the police wouldn’t share important details with the public. “I was hoping you could tell me if there was anything new with the investigation … something that hasn’t been released to the public.”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you, Ms. Winters.”

  “I’m not asking you to cross any lines here, but isn’t there anything you might be able to give us. A new lead or possible suspects? Anything you could divulge would be greatly appreciated.”

  “I’ve got nothing, miss.” He shrugged with ambivalence as he turned his attention back to his computer. “Sorry to say, but you wasted a trip coming here today.”

  “Please, detective,” I pleaded. “I really need this.”

  He glanced up at me with a curious look and asked, “And why is that?”

  I hated to break out the big guns, but he wasn’t leaving me any choice. I let several tears trickle from the corner of my eyes as I explained, “Rodrigo Navarro killed my aunt. It nearly destroyed my family. I know he’s dead and got what was coming to him, but it’s just not enough. The men in these cartels are getting away with murder, drug trafficking, and God knows what else. Somebody has to do something to stop them.”

  I could hear the skepticism in his voice as he asked, “And you think you’ve got what it takes to stop them?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But I owe it to my family to try.”

  He
studied me for a moment, then his whole demeanor changed as he replied, “Honestly, kid, I don’t have much. We’re looking into a few leads but nothing really substantial. We did find a surveillance video from a warehouse across the street.”

  “Were you able to see what happened?”

  “Not really.” He turned to his computer, and as he typed, he explained, “The warehouse we obtained it from has been unoccupied for years, but the old guy who owns it kept the security cameras going. Apparently, he was worried about someone holding him liable if something happened on the property.”

  Once he’d pulled up the footage, he turned the screen in our direction, revealing an old road lined with several vacant, dilapidated warehouses. With a quick press of a point, day turned into night, and the road disappeared until a pair of headlights appeared. Two dark SUVs and a royal blue BMW flashed across the screen, but they all had tinted windows, making it impossible to see who was inside the vehicles. They each whipped behind one of the smaller warehouses and turned out their lights, leaving the entire area engulfed in darkness. “Who is that?”

  “The BMW belonged to Rodrigo, but I got no idea who was in the SUVs. They’d removed the license plates, so it was impossible to trace them back to the owners.”

  “Dang.” I leaned forward, squinting as I studied the screen, but it was simply too dark to see anything. “Where are they?”

  “Keep watching.”

  Seconds later, there was a flash of light coming from the back of the building, and for the first time, I could see a silhouette of a man standing in the parking lot. He was wearing all black, and his face was covered with a dark ski mask, making it impossible to identify him. I sat there watching for several seconds when he did something with his hand. “Can you rewind that a few seconds?”

  “Sure.”

  After a few quick keystrokes, he brought the video back just a bit, and I watched intently as the figure toyed with his cigarette lighter. Something about the motion of his hand seemed oddly familiar to me, but before I could put my finger on it, another figure appeared. I barely had time to blink before they both disappeared into the darkness. I thought that was it, until a few moments later when I noticed the fire billowing from inside the building. There was an orange glow illuminating from the windows, casting a dim light over the parking lot, but it wasn’t enough for me to actually see what was going on behind that warehouse.

  Myles knelt down beside me as he said, “The paper said that Navarro had been shot, but I didn’t see any sign of gunfire.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  He pointed to the screen as he said, “Rewind the feed and watch the window. If there was a big shootout between these guys, we would see small explosions of light coming from their weapons.”

  McKnight rewound the footage, and once he started it again, we all studied the window, searching for any signs of light. When there wasn’t any, Myles asked, “Is it possible that they shot him somewhere else?”

  “It’s a possibility, but I don’t see why they’d go to all that trouble.”

  Remembering a documentary I’d watched with my father, I turned to them and said, “Maybe they used a silencer.”

  A surprised look crossed McKnight’s face as he replied, “She’s right about that. It would’ve reduced the muzzle flash.”

  “Yeah, but as dark as it is, shouldn’t we see something?”

  “Maybe. It could be that they were shooting from an angle where we just can’t see the flash. Or it could be, these guys were just a crew hired to clean up the mess. There’s no way to know. All the evidence was burned up in the fire.”

  When I turned my attention back to the computer screen, I noticed one of the figures had returned to the parking lot. I wasn’t sure it was the same guy as before until I saw a line of sparks erupt from his side. I watched as he struck the flint several times, casting a spray of sparks at his side with each strike, and then he did something that made my stomach tighten. He took the lighter, twirled it in his hand, and shoved it in his back pocket. Without realizing it, I mumbled, “Nervous habit.”

  “What was that?” Myles asked.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking out loud.” Before he could ask what I meant, I turned my attention to McKnight. “I hate to ask, but would you mind showing me the full video one last time?”

  His eyebrows furrowed as he asked, “Why? You think you see something? Cause I’ve watched this damn thing a hundred times, and I’ve never seen anything that could help me identify these guys.”

  “No. It’s not that at all. I just wanted to see it one more time.” I lied.

  “I get it. I thought if I kept watching it, I’d catch some mistake they made or some tell they’d given, but there’s just nothing there.”

  I gave him a half-smile as I assured him, “I’m sure you’re right, but I’d really like to go over it again.”

  When he turned to rewind the footage, I reached for my purse and discreetly placed it in my lap. Hoping to make my own copy of the surveillance video, I carefully position my phone where it couldn’t be seen and pressed record. I was thankful that the detective was too busy watching the screen to notice what I was up to. As soon as it was over, I quickly tucked my phone back into my purse, and McKnight seemed completely unaware of what I’d done as he turned to me and said, “See … there’s just nothing there.”

  “Yeah, you were right. “I knew I was pushing it, but I had to ask, “Is there anything else that you can share with us?”

  He shook his head as he answered, “Sorry, but that’s all I got. If anything comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “That would be great.”

  I stood up, and as we turned to leave, McKnight said, “Wait. I forgot to mention something. You know that the FBI has been investigating Rodrigo’s brother for some mass murder back in Mexico.”

  “Yeah, I read all about it. They actually have the proof they need to put him away, but now they can’t find him.”

  “Well, there’s a chance his brother’s murder brought him out of hiding. I haven’t seen him, and neither have any of my guys, but there’s a buzz on the street that he’s been in town.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I’m guessing he came here looking for who killed his brother but didn’t find what he was looking for. From what I’ve heard, he got frustrated and decided to head your way.”

  “To Memphis?”

  “I don’t know if any of it’s true. I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”

  “That would be great.” On our way out, I told him, “Thanks again for all your help.”

  Once we were back on the road, I took out my phone and checked my camera roll. I was tempted to watch the video again but decided against it. I didn’t want to take the chance on Myles asking me questions that I wasn’t prepared to answer; besides, there was no way for me to know for certain if it was Jackson I’d seen on that footage. While I sat there lost in my thoughts, Myles started rambling on and on about how much progress we were making. Even though I appreciated his enthusiasm, I just wanted a moment to think, so I simply responded with nods and short answers. I needed to figure out my next move. The more I thought about it, I realized the time had finally come for me to pay another visit to the Satan’s Fury clubhouse. I had to put an end to my doubts and find out, once and for all, if the father of my son was the man I always thought he was or if he was a cold-blooded murderer.

  7

  Riggs

  When bad things happen, they tend to come in threes. Sometimes they slowly trickle in, taking several days or even weeks to rear their ugly heads, but sometimes, those bad things can slam you, making you almost relieved when the third one finally appears—at least then you’d know a reprieve was soon to follow. It was a phenomenon I’d become accustomed to, especially where my brothers were concerned, so when Jason showed up at the clubhouse, ranting about a reporter who’d shown up at his door, I had n
o doubt that it was just the beginning.

  I was in my office when I heard Blaze call out to me, “Yo, Riggs. Gus needs you in his office.”

  “Coming!” I shouted as I stood up and met him in the hall. “Something up?”

  “Something’s going on with Jason.”

  “Alex’s friend?”

  “Yeah. He’s pretty shaken up about something.”

  When we stepped into Gus’s office, we found Gus at his desk with Shadow and Jason sitting across from him. As soon as I got a good look at Jason, I saw that Blaze was right. For whatever reason, he looked pretty rattled. His knee was bouncing ninety to nothing, and he was nervously popping his knuckles as his eyes skirted around the room. Gus noticed our arrival then looked over to Jason and said, “Now, why don’t you just start from the beginning so we can figure this thing out.”

  “These two reporters came by my apartment this morning.”

  I glanced over at the clock and when I saw it was after four, I asked, “This morning?”

  “Yeah. It was around eight or something.”

  “Then, why the hell did you wait so long to come tell us about it?” I scolded.

  “I wanted to make sure they weren’t following me or something. I went to grab lunch and then to the shop for a few hours, and after I convinced myself that no one was tailing me, I headed over here.”

  While I doubted it was necessary, I appreciated the fact that he was trying to be careful. “What did these reporters want?”

  “They wanted to know about Rodrigo Navarro. They were asking me all these questions, and—”

  “What kind of questions?” I interrupted.

  “I don’t know. I kind of blanked as soon as I heard his name.”

  “Try and think, son. It’s important,” Gus pushed.

  “Um … They wanted to know if I’d seen him. When I said, I hadn’t, she said she had a source who’d seen him at my apartment.” His voice was trembling as he continued, “I’ve got no idea who their source could be. All my neighbors are old and barely get around. I don’t see how they’d know that some cartel boss was in my fucking apartment.”

 

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