Devil's Disciples MC Series- The Complete Boxed Set

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Devil's Disciples MC Series- The Complete Boxed Set Page 129

by Scott Hildreth


  He gave Hap a dirty look, got into his car, and sped away. After he disappeared over the hill, Hap faced us.

  He took a drink from the bottle of wine and then shook his head. “Only thing worse than a thief is the man who stands up to defend one.”

  242

  Tito

  When I sat on the other side of Baker’s office desk in the past, I felt like I was being interrogated. Now, I felt that I was interrogating him.

  “Everyone’s been keeping their distance since the coin shop,” Baker said. “They’re all in agreement that we need to go legit. Everyone except for Cash, that is.”

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  He stroked his beard but didn’t immediately respond.

  “I can tell you this much,” I continued. “I’m done. Done, as in done. I won’t do another job. Period.”

  “Goose and Ally said the same thing. Reno feels the same way, but he hasn’t come out and said it. You know how he is.” He scratched his beard with the tips of his fingers. “He’ll do whatever the club does.”

  “Cash is an idiot,” I said, pushing myself away from the desk. “Why don’t you just tell him—”

  “I have.” He stood and walked to the window behind his desk. He peered toward the street, below. “We decided long ago that any changes to the club require a one hundred percent vote. If we don’t have it, changes can’t be made.”

  “If we all refuse to do a job, Cash can’t do it on his own.”

  He faced me. “He can’t do what we’ve been doing on his own, no. He can, however, commit whatever crimes he wants to, and we’ll all be liable for it. This tattoo on our back means we’ll be convicted right along with him.”

  Any conventional motorcycle club would be able to disband. The members would remove their kuttes, turn them in to the president, and then be able to claim they weren’t a part of the MC.

  Our MC decided to have our club’s colors tattooed across our backs. Denying membership wasn’t an option.

  I began to pace the floor. “If that crazy prick starts knocking off banks to support whatever habits he has, I’m going to choke him out.”

  Baker faced me. A worried look was plastered on his face. “I don’t have an answer for this one, Tito. I really don’t.”

  “You’ve talked to him?” I asked. “I mean, sat down and talked to him?”

  “I have.” He raked his fingers through his hair and gave me a serious look. “I hate to ask, but maybe you should do the same.”

  “Me?” I stopped in my tracks. “Why me?”

  “You two bicker like an old married couple,” he said. “But he respects you. He always has.”

  I let out a sigh of frustration. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

  Baker wrung his hands together nervously. “We need to get him on board. Then, we need to spend the rest of our lives praying that the coin shop heist never gets solved. There’s no statute of limitations on murder.”

  “No, there’s not,” I said in agreement. “And, if we’re convicted of capital murder, we get the death penalty. It’ll be a miracle if we make it through this.”

  My phone buzzed. Expecting a fault from one of the carwashes, I pulled it from my pocket and checked the text message.

  This is Ted Gottschalk. Have time for a cup of coffee?

  I immediately responded.

  Sounds great. When and where?

  After agreeing to meet at Marcie’s, I looked up. “That was Reggie’s dad. We’re going to meet for a cup of coffee.”

  “When you get done, let’s finish this discussion,” he said. “We need to figure out a time and place to talk to Cash.”

  “Probably be best if it’s not something he perceives as an intervention,” I said. “I’ll just talk to him one on one.”

  “Good luck.” He smirked. “Because you’re going to need it.”

  I was half finished with my first cup of coffee when Ted showed up. Dressed in a pair of slacks, a dress shirt, and a sport coat, he looked like a professional football player preparing for a press conference.

  He sat across from me in the booth and nodded toward my cup. “How’s the coffee?”

  “Surprisingly good.”

  He mouthed the words a cup of coffee? to the waitress. “Coffee’s always good here.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  In a flash, the waitress delivered his coffee, black. “Good morning, Ted.”

  “Morning, Kate.”

  She checked my cup of coffee, realized it was full, and smiled. “I’ll check on you in a bit.”

  I smiled in return. “Thank you.”

  “I come here nearly every day,” he said. “It’s a good place to unwind and think.”

  I glanced around the establishment. The décor was old school Americana, and reminded me of Abby’s Place, a diner owned by a former Marine friend of the motorcycle club. “I like places like this.”

  “They’re few and far between,” he said.

  I faced him. “So, how’s everything going?”

  “I’ve shared a little bit about retirement with you, and with Reggie.” He cupped his massive hands around his coffee cup and peered into it. “I’ve told myself I can’t do it until I get this group of hooligans that I’ve been chasing for the past fifteen years. I’ve said for the past few years that after I had them behind bars that I’d turn in my shield, and my gun.” He met my gaze. “Well, it looks like that day is right around the corner.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Is buying a fishing boat your next move?”

  He shook his head. “That’ll be down the road, after they’re convicted at a jury trial.”

  “It’s got to feel good to finally catch them though. Reggie said they’ve been a thorn in your side for years.”

  “Bittersweet,” he said with a nod. “That’s how I’d describe it.”

  If he’d been chasing the gang in question for a decade, I could see that it would be bittersweet to catch them. An end to a decade-long chase, leaving him with nothing to do afterward.

  “I can see that,” I said.

  He held my gaze. “I’m going to cut to the chase.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ve got reason to believe the gang in question tried to knock off a gold dealer in Ramona a few weeks ago,” he said flatly. “Before their escape, they blew the electric plant to hell. They used military C-4 as the explosive, which is part of their modus operandi.”

  My face flushed. I tried to remain calm and emotionless but doubted that I’d accomplished either. I slid my hands under the table and clenched my fists to keep them from shaking.

  “It was a clear diversion tactic,” he continued. “They needed to get what little law enforcement was available to go to the other end of town while they escaped. Then, they blew the gold dealer’s building into toothpick-sized pieces. When we sifted through the ashes, we found microscopic bits and pieces of two dead police officers. As you can imagine, with an explosion like that, it’s been a fucking nightmare to get any clues. Luck must be on my side, because last week I got something. Then, the day before yesterday, I two more somethings.”

  If he had me dead to rights on murder, he wouldn’t be sitting across from me, talking. I’d be in handcuffs. Nevertheless, my days in the free world were numbered. My future with Reggie dissolved before my eyes, leaving me contemplating running to another country under an assumed name with a fake passport.

  I already knew Reggie’s position regarding thieves. There was no way she’d continue any kind of a life with me once she found out what I’d been involved in, regardless of how I spun the story in my favor.

  I swallowed heavily. “That’s good,” I said. “Three clues in a week.”

  Holding my gaze, he rested his massive forearms against the edge of the table and leaned forward. “Check cashing place next door had a security system in the parking lot. Sadly, it was pointed in the wrong direction and it wasn’t infrared. We got nothing but a bunch of really shi
tty footage. After enhancing it, we got a clear video of a bunch of feet shuffling around. We did, however, get a blur of one of the men’s tattoos as he bent down to pick up a penny.”

  We were wearing long-sleeved shirts and gloves. I had no idea how he saw any tattoos, unless the men he saw weren’t us. My racing heart slowed its pace at the thought of him pursuing the wrong men.

  “You see,” he said. “Up until now, I’ve been chasing nothing but a hunch. I’ve been building a case file based on this gang’s MO. My bulletin board has been filled with dates, times, places, and theories, but no identities. I’ve been chasing a group based on their patterns and what few clues they leave behind. For instance, they always hit places out of San Diego, typically in small towns with inadequate police forces. There’s almost always explosives involved, and they’re typically in and out without anyone getting hurt. That is, until now. Now, two cops are dead. One upside is that I’ve got a face at the top of my bulletin board.”

  Clinging to a sliver of hope, I raised my brows in wonder. “A face?”

  “Yes,” he responded. “The tattoo in the video was unique. An eyeball on the back of his hand. Didn’t take long to trace that to a man here in San Diego. His name is Graham Baker.” He leaned away from the table and crossed his arms. “Do you know him?”

  243

  Reggie

  Lunchtime and after work traffic into the store were always steady, but mid-afternoons were never a busy time. Consequently, Mel typically came by on her rotating day off. It was her way of curing boredom.

  Gathered around the island in the center of the store where the cash registers were located, we were discussing the incident.

  “It was funny,” Raymond said. “Until it wasn’t.”

  “When did it go downhill?” Mel asked.

  “When I admitted to telling Taddeo what really happened.”

  “Why didn’t you keep your mouth shut and just ride it out?”

  “Because he can’t keep a secret,” I interjected. “At all. He didn’t keep mine, and he didn’t keep Tito’s. He’s a blabbermouth.”

  Raymond gave me a flippant look. “Could you be any more juvenile?” He looked at Mel. “I’m not a blabbermouth. I just like making people happy. Telling people secrets always makes them feel special.” He glanced in my direction. “Unless your name is Reggie.”

  “I think it’s funny that you burst in the dressing room to tell her,” Mel said.

  “Oh. Let me tell you. My curiosity was eating away at me like a lion on a fallen gazelle.” He put his hands against his hips. “According to Reggie, Taddeo’s cock is perfect. I’ve seen my share of cocks, none of which have been perfect. So, I thought I’d get a glimpse of it.”

  “Well?”

  “It wasn’t hard.” He wrinkled his nose. “It was just, you know, in a post-blowjob state.”

  She raised her brows. “And?”

  “It’s really pretty,” he replied. “I don’t know if I’d call it perfect, but it’s definitely pretty.”

  Mel laughed. “Pretty?”

  Raymond glanced at a well-dressed man who was passing by. “It was.”

  Mel diverted her attention from Raymond to me. “Do you think you guys will get married? One of these days?”

  Her question took me by surprise. I’d never once thought of marrying Jared, nor had I considered marrying any of my other previous boyfriends. Marrying Tito, however, was something I dreamed about, constantly.

  He was special, there was no denying it.

  When we kissed, the world around me shrank to a size that included only the two of us. Our love for one another allowed us to remain suspended in that altered state throughout our embrace. There was no passage of time or worldly concerns. We were two people consumed by the magic only true love can bring.

  I smiled. “I hope so.”

  “I think it’s cool that he just appeared one day.”

  “He didn’t just appear,” Raymond insisted. “I introduced them to one another.”

  I gave him a look. “You did not.”

  “Believe what you will,” he said. “But I could have sent him on his way. I thought you two would be good together.”

  “He asked to speak to the manager.” I arched an eyebrow. “I’m the manager.”

  He gave me a dismissive look. “Do you have any idea of how many people come in here asking for the manager? Normally, I just send them away.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “As serious as a zit on date night.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked.

  “To save you the aggravation of dealing with those awful people.” He winced as if disgusted. “Most of them are hoping to get a discount or gift card because of a loose thread or an uneven seam. I mean, really, this is the Buckle, not Prada.”

  I chuckled. “You do that for me?”

  He looked at me like I was crazy for asking. “Of course. I might not be able to keep a secret, but I do love you, Reggie.”

  “I love you, too. I’m sorry I got mad at you about telling him.”

  “I knew it would pass,” he said. “You really couldn’t have expected me to keep a secret.”

  “I knew eventually you’d tell him,” I admitted. “I thought maybe it’d be in a few weeks, though.”

  “I would have lasted a month if he hadn’t been so persistent.” He rolled his eyes. “He was going on and on about this dream he had where he was being accosted by pouty-lipped angels with lean legs and perfect boobs. He said when he woke up, his balls were twice their normal size. I had to tell him.”

  I gave him a look of disbelief. “Lean-legged angels?”

  He nodded. “With pouty lips.”

  “And perfect tits,” Mel added.

  “I don’t remember him telling me about any dreams he had that night.” I said.

  “I’m sure there are a lot of things Taddeo tells me that he doesn’t tell you,” Raymond bragged. “Did you know he calls me his brother?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Well,” he said, cocking his hip. “He does. All the time. Come here, Brother. I need to tell you something, Brother. Hey, Brother, where’s Reggie?” He crossed his fingers and held them between us. “We’re like this.”

  I liked it that Tito accepted Raymond with open arms. It was a testament to the size of his heart, and proof that he recognized people for being who they really were, not what the close-minded portion of the world saw them as.

  “I’m glad you two are close,” I said. “But I do need to ask him about the pouty-lipped angel dream. I want to hear that story.”

  “Please don’t,” Raymond begged.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because,” he said. “It’s our little secret.”

  I scowled. “Another one you didn’t keep.”

  He turned away. After wandering halfway through the store with his head hanging low, he looked up. “I made it up,” he admitted from fifty feet away. “I can’t keep secrets and I’m a pathological liar.”

  I laughed. “Come back.”

  Looking like a puppy who’d been spanked for peeing on the carpet, he meandered to where we stood. He lowered his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s a time and place for a lie,” Mel said. “And that wasn’t it.”

  I looked at her like she was nuts. “When is it okay?”

  “When the truth will harm someone you love,” she said.

  “Oh.” Raymond’s eyes went wide. “I like that. In the future, I’ll only lie to protect those I love.”

  “A lie is a lie,” I said. “They’re never okay.”

  “Believe me,” Mel said. “At some point, someone’s lied to you to protect you from being hurt.”

  “Maybe so,” I agreed. “But I can guarantee you this: it wasn’t someone that really mattered to me, because those people don’t lie.”

  “I bet at some point your father has,” she said. “To protect you.”

  “I can assure you that h
as never happened,” I said adamantly, “And, it never will.”

  244

  Tito

  Hoping to dislodge my heart from my throat, I took a drink of coffee. My mind flashed to the police officer sucking in his last breath.

  I was fucked. My future with Reggie—my future entirely—evaporated before me. A month earlier, I was ready to walk away from the MC and never look back. With reluctance, I agreed to one last job. Now the MC was under investigation by my lover’s father, and I was staring the death penalty in the face.

  If I had only listened to my instinct.

  There was only one way for me to live with myself. I had to tell him the truth and damn the consequences.

  “I work for him,” I admitted.

  “His aunt is listed as the sole proprietor of the LLC that own the car washes,” he said without looking up. “I suspected you might work for him. I didn’t know.”

  He knew far more than I expected. Crushed by the thought of losing Reggie, I stared beyond him, toward the exit.

  “There wasn’t a piece of the police officer’s bodies that was so big it wouldn’t fit in a thimble,” he said without emotion. “But I did identify them both, and I got a ballistics report on the weapon used. I found satisfaction in knowing that the same weapon was used in a bank heist eighteen months ago in Indio that I suspected was the work of this same group.”

  Cash was supposed to have tossed his weapon in the ocean. Leave it to Cash to fire the same gun on multiple crimes, allowing law enforcement to tie multiple crimes to one weapon.

  “The last thing I got.” He raised a charred piece of spring steel and looked it over carefully. “Was this unique lockpick. It has some markings on it that stumped me at first, but I was able to get an expert to trace it to its origin. The pick is from a set that was assigned to Frank ‘Fingers’ Ferretti, a famous safecracker and locksmith from back east. Rumor has it that his daughter Alessandra is living here in San Diego. So, I’m liking Alessandra and this Graham Baker for being together on this robbery. Interesting fact about Alessandra. She holds a record at a racetrack back east. Lime Rock. My guess is she’s Baker’s getaway driver.”

 

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