“Ink and Beth weren’t heading that way,” Hell observes. “Least not from what I saw. What the fuck’s changed?”
I look down at my hands, wanting to keep my mouth shut, yet in fairness to my brother know I have to speak up. “There was more to them than just fuckin’. Ink told me I’d better get used to seeing her in the mornings,” I admit. “Before… Well, he didn’t mention anything about claiming as such. And why the fuck now? After what she’s done to him?”
Demon shrugs. “Obvious, isn’t it? Do I need to remind anyone claimin’ an ol’ lady puts them under our protection? By claimin’ Beth as his old lady, he’s making her part of the club. Bringing her into it as we abide by our rules and regulations. One of which is, I need to stress, if a brother goes inside, we look after his ol’ lady.”
“You suggestin’ prison rights?” Liz perks up. “Don’t mind taking over.”
If Thunder hadn’t reached over and clouted him hard around the head, I would have done it myself and used more force. As it is, Liz reels and puts a hand to his skull, ruefully rubbing it. But his cocky grin has been replaced by a look of regret.
“Too fuckin’ soon, Bro,” Judge tells him.
I turn my attention back to the prez. “No. Just… No. That shit ain’t happening, Prez. She’s already got one of us locked up. We’re now in possession of eight kilos of H which we shouldn’t have. We don’t know who the rightful owners are, but knowing we have it, Beth now holds information that could bring down this fuckin’ club. I’d prefer her six feet under where she can’t talk. No way in hell is she getting my vote.”
I get murmurs of agreement from quite a few directions, coupled with growls of ‘I’m not fuckin’ voting her in.’
“Sparky,” Demon says, tiredly, as I notice the road captain trying to get Prez’s attention.
Unusual for the normally mild-mannered man, when he’s given permission to speak, Sparky’s hand slams down on the table causing all eyes to go to him.
“Can I fuckin’ remind you that our brother is currently sitting in a jail cell looking at thirty years or more behind bars? I say the very least we should be doing is making his mind easier. And if to do that means taking his woman under our wing, maybe we shouldn’t dismiss it.”
“But Sparks, we don’t know how the bitch is tied up in this. Bring her inside the club, who knows what she could infect us with.”
“You trust Ink?” Now Sparky’s got the floor, he’s not giving it up. “Think he doesn’t know when something’s right or not? He’s sacrificed his freedom because of her, which shows how much she means to him, and how important to him it is that she’s taken care of by the club.”
“Sparky’s got a good point,” Demon says sharply after banging the gavel to get us to quiet down once again. “Never expected Ink would claim anyone, but his actions last night showed this woman clearly means one fuckin’ lot to him.” He pauses. “I agree, if she’s up to her neck in drugs coming into Pueblo, we can’t vote her in. Yet I, for one, am inclined to believe what she’s saying is the truth. But we’re not bringing her into the club. As far as she knows, Ink’s cut all ties with her. He doesn’t want any contact with her.”
“Let me get this right. He’s claimin’ a woman and not telling her shit?”
Demon grimaces, but just raises his chin in reply.
Guess it makes it easier that I’ll not have to watch her living it up while her man, which Ink now is, is inside. “You say you believe her, Prez? Why?” I don’t.
“She was too fuckin’ gullible if she believed her brother,” Bomber sneers.
“Not gullible, Bomber,” Beef refutes, “too innocent. We look for a hidden motive behind everything ‘cause we’re suspicious bastards and we have to be. Wouldn’t survive otherwise. But Ink’s girl has lived a sheltered life.”
“With that father?” Thunder sounds incredulous.
“She doesn’t have anything to do with her father. Hasn’t seen him since he walked out when she was what, nine?” Pyro rolls his eyes.
“Got a suggestion.” Hellfire’s voice booms from the end of the table. “We give her the protection that Ink wants, but we don’t vote her in until we’ve caught up with Connor and hear what he has to say. If he’s still breathing that is.”
“And if he’s dead?” Bomber asks.
Hell shrugs. “Sort of confirms she’s telling the truth.”
Demon gives his father a quick nod. “I’m inclined to agree with Hellfire. We respect Ink but hedge our bets. All in favour?”
I think we can all live with that. I, for one, expect to find Connor Foster very much alive, kicking back and enjoying his freedom while my brother is suffering in hell. I give my agreement with a caveat. “If Beth’s played Ink, is playing us, I want her taken out.” And I’ll be the one to fucking do it.
Demon raises an eyebrow, but it seems in the case which I believe most likely, I’m not the only one who’d want her dispatched to meet Satan. Would balance the scales if Ink loses the best years of his life.
Buzzard hastily records our decision. Prez gives him time to do it. When his pen stops scratching, it’s Thunder who asks, “What else did Sykes get from Ink?”
Demon enlightens us. “The story Ink’s told the cops might be full of holes, but with any luck it should hold enough water to stay afloat. Look, I know we all hate that he’s inside, but he is, and we’ve got to rely on Sykes that he can spin it the right way. In the meantime, with Sykes working the legal angle, we’ll keep digging to see if there’s anything we can find that might help.”
Demon jerks his chin at Cad. “The man who was arrested, the man who pulled a gun on Ink and was obviously expecting the delivery of H was called Fender Childs. I want you to dig up all you can on him.”
“On it.” The tech guy makes a note on the tablet he’d brought in. “Black? White?”
Demon shakes his head but makes a note on the pad. “No idea. I’ll ask Sykes. Did you see anything, Sparky?”
“Not Black. White, or maybe Hispanic. It was dark, remember, and I was too intent on getting Beth away to take much notice.”
Cad’s tablet pings. He fist bumps the air and sits forward, not waiting for permission to interrupt. “I’ve come up with a location for Connor Foster. Or at least, where his phone call originated from.”
Now that’s a step forward. I can’t wait to start asking Beth’s brother questions in any one of my preferred ways. Men tend to talk while their fingernails are being pulled out.
“Where is it, Cad?”
“Prez, it’s a warehouse on the very outskirts of Denver.”
Beef looks concerned. “Warehouse? We’re talking large quantities of drugs. Could be a base for their operations. Could be a fuckload of manpower there. Don’t like the thought of us going in blind.”
Yeah. Beef’s observation makes sense. You don’t have your hands on that amount of shit without being able to protect it. Then there are the workers packaging it up. We’ve no idea of how it’s brought in, or how many might be needed to process it—
“We’ll use the new drone.”
As his voice breaks into my thoughts, my eyes snap to Pal who, I notice, looks smug.
“Yeah,” Pal continues, exchanging a smirk with Cad. “Cad and I were trying it out last week. We don’t need to get too close to send it in. It means we can see what’s going on, or at least, how many vehicles there are and whether people are going in and out. If there’s a convenient window, we might even be able to see inside.”
Well that’s a great fucking idea. Hands bang the table in appreciation.
“Good plan, Brother,” Demon says.
“I’ve also got a home address for the dad, Phil Foster,” Cad states. “Beth seems clear Connor lives with the man. Might be worth checking out to see if Connor’s gone home.”
“This Phil, anything to connect him to drugs?”
“Not that I’ve found, but then he’d hardly have it on his resume. Extortion, money laundering… those are the
charges the cops have brought but have never been able to make stick.”
Sounds like this Foster’s some crafty fucker to me.
“Could be that Connor’s branching out on his own,” Beef puts in.
Demon’s fist bumps the top of the desk. “That’s why we need to find him.” He closes his eyes for a second, then reopens them. “I say we go to the warehouse first, that’s where Connor was last night and might still be there. Mace, Thunder. You head out with… Liz, yeah. You okay to go Ro? Right. Pyro, Judge and Wills, and of course Pal to operate the drone. You take the warehouse. I want to get inside and tear that place apart. If you need more manpower, we’ll be right behind you and rolling. Beef, Hellfire…” he pauses.
“You want us to check out Phil Foster’s place?” Hell asks.
Demon thinks for a moment. “We don’t know how or whether he’s involved, or if he is, how deeply. It could be him who’s behind it. Going straight to his lair tips our hand. See what we find at the warehouse first. That will determine any future conversation with Phil.”
“Makes sense, Prez,” says his VP. “Hell and I can be ready to roll once we know what kind of words we’ll need to exchange with Foster Sr.”
In case they’ll be telling him, his son is dead, I presume he means. Doubt it. If anyone asked me, I’d say my money was on Phil Foster being up to his fucking neck in this shit, along with his son and Beth. Fuckin’ family affair. Patsy? Maybe not her, it’s hard to feint that degree of shock when she found she’d been storing heroin in her home, but who the fuck knows? Green talks. Loudly.
“You want us to leave now?” I offer, getting ready to stand. I’m eager to be doing something, anything.
Prez glares at me. “Rushing off half-cocked could get us killed. We need to have a plan. If Connor’s dead, there’s no rush, and if he’s alive, he’ll have no idea we’re coming for him. There’re other things at play here, and I want to be as prepared as we can.”
I’m just itching to get my hands on Connor. He and his father can confirm if Beth was in on it the whole time, or whether they set her up. If they did, they’ll be the ones largely responsible for Ink going down. Only half listening to the meeting, I remember last night and her offer to go to the cops herself. Had that been genuine? I couldn’t be sure at the time, my anger perhaps clouding my judgement. Ink had made the decision though, he preferred to be taken than her. What does he know that I don’t?
If she really is as innocent and unworldly as Ink must think, she could have been the victim of expert criminals and the very people who were supposed to have her best interests at heart. Christ, she’d be gutted if that turns out to be the truth. I realise the edge of my anger toward her has been taken off at that thought.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mace
My embryonic sympathy prompts me to ask, “What are you going to do about Beth and her mom, Prez?”
Demon purses his lips. “I sent them home.” I know that. I saw them leave.
“Drugs are gone, Prez,” Beef reminds him. “What if someone goes calling expecting them to be right where they were left?”
Demon frowns at Beef. “You think I haven’t fuckin’ considered that? Two defenceless women against fuck knows who? Ink’s claimed her which brings her under our protection. But he also wants to deny his relationship with her to the citizen world and keep her out of the clutches of the cops. And,” he pauses and looks at each of us, “as far as Beth knows, Ink’s finished with her for good. There is no relationship, and if anyone points the cops her way, she’ll confirm all they did was fuck a couple of times.”
Ouch. That must have been a slap in the face for her. No wonder she looked down when she left. Perhaps I’m getting some of the payback I was hoping for.
“All that falls apart if they stay here on the compound,” Prez finishes up.
“Would they be safer in a safe house?” Pal asks.
Pyro is frowning. “Beth’s kept no secret of seeing a biker from her friends. Anyone who was at the wedding saw them go off together, and that includes her work colleagues. It’s possible when the cops start digging, they’ll want to know how closely she was involved with him, and what she knows about where Ink was last night and why. It will be mighty suspicious if she’s not at home.”
“Or what if the cops manage to trace the drugs back to Connor? What if somehow it becomes known they were hidden in that house…”
“Oh, so, he left a return address in the packaging…” says the sergeant-at-arms sarcastically.
Beef is fast on his feet and around the other side of the table, his fist, quite rightly, gets Thunder in the gut. Then he returns to his seat calmly and continues his train of thought. “There are always signs, fingerprints perhaps. We’re talking about someone who left a million dollars’ worth of smack in boxes casually stored with his mom,” he reminds us. “So yeah, Thunder, he may have left a calling card.”
“Beth picked up the packages,” I remind them. “If her fingerprints are in the system, they will know she has to be involved.”
“Why would her fingerprints be in AFIS?” Pal asks. “Doubt that girl’s ever been arrested in her life.”
“She works for the government,” Pyro observes. “Same as Mel. Think it’s standard practice to take them when they’re first employed.”
“Do they automatically pass them on?”
Cad’s nodding his head. “Yup. Since 2015, the FBI stores fingerprints taken by employers and anyone else, together with personal info in their criminal database. If she’s been working there longer than that, then she’s probably okay. But it’s a risk they already have them.”
“Hey,” Pyro stares at Cad, “I had my fingerprints taken when I applied for a motor vehicle dealer license. Does that mean mine are now in the system?”
“Since 2015?” Cad queries.
“Yup.”
Cad’s nod back gives Pyro all the confirmation he needs. “Fuck.” But he follows it up with a chin lift of his own. “Good to know, brother.”
“Alright, alright. Anyone worried speak to Cad later. Mace, you’ve got something?”
My lips press together. Ink wants us to protect her. The only way we can do that is if we know all the cards the cops hold. If Beth’s fingerprints turn up on the packages of H, we need to know they can’t be traced back to her. If they can, we could be facing another whole level of problems. “Yeah, Prez, I think we need to ask her whether her fingerprints have been taken recently.” Christ, I hope they’re not. Ink’s sacrifice could be for nothing if the cops pick her up after all.
Demon’s fingers drum the top of the desk again. “I agree. We might end up having to hide her from the cops.” He rakes his hands back through his hair. “Jeez. Ink’s given up his freedom and put her under our protection. If we don’t keep her out of jail, we’re failing him. We’ll be a brother down, and his woman will suffer as well.”
It seems incredible that Ink has claimed a woman. For a second, I wonder whether Demon’s heard wrong. But why he did it is obvious, it was to force our hand, so we’ll look after her. Serious step to be taking though. No one claims a woman lightly, and never just temporarily even if that’s what I think is in Ink’s head. Whatever his thought process, we’ve got to proceed as if it’s permanent. Or at least until there’s proof that she’s lying, then all bets are off.
“That was a serious amount of shit hidden in Patsy’s house. Where did the dough come from?” I wonder aloud. “Someone will have paid out for that. I can’t believe it was Beth’s brother.”
“Phil Foster seems the obvious candidate.”
Cad dips and raises his head, then backs up the prez. “His lifestyle might suggest he could put his hands on that amount of cash.”
“He was an accountant.” Buzzard’s obviously up to speed. “I certainly wouldn’t discount him.”
Buzz has got a point. Mind you, he’s a money man, which is why he’s our treasurer.
“The drugs could have been stolen.”
“In which case,” I reply to Prez, “we won’t be the only ones looking for Connor.” This is the reason Demon held me back from being a hothead and rushing off. Looking at a problem from all angles may use up time, but it helps to be prepared. I exchange a look with Thunder. We’ll need eyes at our six. Best man to have with us would be Ink, he was a Marine. But if he was here and not locked up, I wouldn’t be facing a ride out to Denver. “We need more men,” I suggest.
Hellfire’s quick. “Beef and I will ride with you. Then we’re in town to go see the old man should Connor not be at the warehouse.”
Demon raises his chin. Seems he agrees. Then he turns to me. “Mace, can you check with Beth about her fingerprints? Want to decide what we do with her and her mom. I want to be prepared when the cops come calling as they invariably will.”
Prez is right. They’re probably getting a warrant as we speak. If Beth’s name’s going to come up, we’ll need to have thought how to manage it.
Half an hour ago, talking to Beth in a reasonable tone would have been the last thing I wanted to do. While she’s not exonerated in my eyes, I have come around to the view that by claiming her, Ink’s shown she means something to him. If keeping her safe brings him some peace, when there’s little else I can do to help, I’ll do it. I nod, and without delay, get out of my seat to go do the task I’ve been given.
Outside the meeting room, I stand for a second with my forehead resting against the wall. I’m tired, there’s a throbbing ache behind my eyes, but the day is far from over. Lighting a cigarette, I breathe in smoke, then exhale as I collect my phone from the box we leave such devices in while in church, then tap on the number Cad had already texted me.
I know I’ve got to handle this carefully. It’s not a stupid woman I’m dealing with, even though she may be ignorant of the darker side of life.
“Hi, Beth. It’s Mace. Need to ask you something. Were you fingerprinted when you got your job?”
“Yes. Years ago, when I first started there.”
Ink's Devil: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #5 Page 23