Protect (8 page)

“Okay. So what the
fuck
happened?” Not
even Sachetti; this was Guidinger.

Tank shook his head, so Fritter picked it up.
The big guy’s speech came harder when he was stressed or nervous.
“Guys on sport bikes jacked us. They were shooting, right on the
highway. Took out the tires of the van. It’s a damn miracle none of
us spilled. They were after the cargo, they went right for
him.”

“And they got him?”

Eyes met around the table and eventually
Jayce nodded. Fritter tried to sound sorry. “Yeah, they got him.
Lucky shot, through the head.”

“
Fuck
.”

They waited for the tongue lashing to
continue, and when it didn’t happen Jayce cleared his throat. “With
all due respect, what was with the cargo? I was a bit surprised to
hear what you had us delivering.”

That brought a chuckle, and Fritter’s back
relaxed just slightly. “Kinda came up unexpected, for us, too. Two
weeks ago one of our supply trains got jacked. Few dozen
high-caliber weapons and various specialty items. Our guys had been
travelling through Mexico when it happened.”

And the relaxed feeling popped like the head
on cheap beer.

“Don’t worry about this guy. He’s a
lieutenant, nothing more. The Castillos might miss him, but I think
we made our point.”

“Shit,” Knuckles whispered across the table.
Jayce motioned him to be quiet.

“I would have liked a little video or
photographic evidence, but their theft of our goods was a bit low
key as well. May as well keep it even.”

“We had to leave the body, the vehicle was
not drivable. There’s going to be cops all over the place. Are you
telling me these bikers we offed were cartel?” He was rubbing his
head again. Yep, Jayce was stressing.

“Most likely. No one important, though. They
could suspect you were part of it if your vehicle was registered to
one of you.”

Mickey was nodding. “Yeah,” Jayce cut in
sharply. “It was a company vehicle for my guy’s garage.”

“In his name?”

“His wife’s.”

There was a sharp inhale of breath. “Keep an
eye on her, boys. These guys are fucking animals.”

Fritter’s stomach constricted, and Mickey’s
hands bunched into fists. “If my wife gets fucking hurt—”

Mickey was usually pretty calm, but bring up
the hint of danger to his woman and he was just as dangerous as the
rest of them. Tank put an arm on their treasurer’s arm, and Mickey
sat back but there was a vein throbbing in his forehead.

“Keep an eye on her,” Guidinger was saying
back while all this was going on. “That’s what I’m saying. What the
fuck were you guys involved in before? Toy runs?”

“We’ll watch out for her.” Jayce’s voice was
just as compassionate as his gaze on Mickey. “What do we do about
this guy? Where does this leave us?”

“I ain’t pissed, if that’s what you mean. We
were after the same result, it just didn’t come about the way we
wanted. I’ll make a few calls to some people I know, see what it
would take to take some of the fucking heat off of this. I’m glad
you guys got out okay.”

“One of us got shot,” Jayce corrected,
eyebrow cocked at Fritter. “Grazed his arm. He’s all right,
though.”

“I’ll add five grand to your fee. Make sure
it goes to him.”

Fritter raised an eyebrow and Knuckles sat up
straight, hands out with a look of silent outrage, mouth hanging
open as though he’d been wronged.

“Will do. Anything else we need to do, let us
know?”

There was a pause, then Guidinger responded.
“Trust me, I will. I like you guys, by the way. Especially you,
McClune.”

Jayce was chuckling as the click came,
indicating the connection was broken.

“Five grand for six fucking stitches?”
Knuckles shouted immediately. “Fuck you all. I’m getting shot next
time.”

“I volunteer to do it,” Fritter returned with
a grin. It earned him the finger.

“Castillos?” Tank muttered. “Fucking cartel
running down our convoy? In California yet? We weren’t even that
far from home.”

“I know. But for Sachetti money, this is the
risk we take.” Jayce sounded much more in favor of all this than
Tank was.

Buck gave a long sigh. “Fuck, this makes me
nervous.”

“They were after one of their own,” Tiny
pointed out, rubbing his chin. “Not necessarily us.”

“But now they’ll know our association with
the Sachettis,” Mickey filled in.

“Jolene doesn’t go out unless there’s at
least a prospect on her. Keep someone with her at the office, too.”
Jayce’s finger jabbed the tabletop to punctuate his point.

Mickey was nodding. “I don’t want her out of
my sight, Jayce. I’ll watch out for her myself.”

“Of course.” Jayce was nodding now. “I expect
Markham PD will be by soon too, letting Mickey know they found his
van.”

“We were pretty close to Kern County,” Tank
pointed out. “I wonder if she’ll get the case yanked.”

Jayce mused that over for a moment, chewing
his lip. “Might work best for us if it is. As long as the stolen
vehicle report sticks. Shadow of a doubt who was leading who?”

Tank shook his head as he replied. “They know
we’re in it. They knew who we were and what we had which means the
cartel is on to us working for Sachetti.”

“Leave the law in the dark, though,” Knuckles
spoke up chewing his nail.

“What?”

Knuckles swiveled his chair to face his
President. “Leave the law in the dark over what happened. We can
point them whichever way we want, really. Tell them it was the
Mazaris that stole the van, nothing to do with us. Keeps some heat
off us. That’s shit way over our heads. Sachetti and the Castillos?
Fuck, throw the Mazaris in the mix and we take Sachetti out of the
crosshairs. Make it look like brown and brown are having a tiff. I
bet Guidinger would fucking love that.”

Jayce shrugged one shoulder. “We do have a
history of bad blood with Mazaris, we took away their kiddie
courier service, brought them law attention.”

Fritter was squirming. He was
not
okay
with taking the cartel out of the picture. Forewarned was
forearmed, and Sheriff Downey being unaware of the cartel coming
this close—

What the fuck was he thinking about? He
needed his head examined, it was becoming obvious.

There was a knock and Jayce hollered for
whoever it was to enter. Rusty pushed the door open and jerked his
thumb over his shoulder. “Umm, Jayce? Sheriff’s here. She, uh, she
looks pissed.”

There were chuckles around the table that
bothered Fritter, just a little. He fought back that uneasy feeling
as well and got to his feet as Jayce declared their meeting
done.

“You got the clubhouse tidy, right? Cleaned
up all the gauze packages and all that shit?”

Rusty nodded. “For sure, Fritter. Tessa and
Chloe got rid of it right when you guys came in here.”

“Good. Thanks, man. Fox is gone, too?”

Rusty nodded. “You kidding? Tessa was saying
it only takes two minutes to get that guy off.”

Fritter snorted then cuffed him up the
backside of the head. “Why the hell are you discussing that shit
with the sweetbutts anyway?”

Rusty turned bright pink under his freckles.
“Sorry—I just overheard them laughing about it.”

Fritter shook his head in disappointment and
followed his crew down the hall, only allowing a smile once he was
out of Rusty’s view. Then he knocked Knuckles in the arm. “Know
what I just heard?”

Fuck this. Fuck all of it.

Sharon was pissed as soon as she saw the
black vans rolling up on her crime scene, and when some slick
asshole in a suit too dark for the summer heat showed her his DEA
badge she came pretty close to losing it.

Donovan Smith assured her their help was
appreciated, but they would be asked to hand over everything they
had found so far. And they would be debriefed back at their own
precinct.

Interviewed. By these assholes? In her own
house?

Her blood was boiling as the twerp who still
had
pimples
for fuck’s sake cleared his throat continuously
in an interview room, called her
ma’am
repeatedly while
trying to ascertain everything they’d missed because they got to
the scene so fucking late.

So late the bodies were already at the
coroner’s and the crime scene was all but processed. How handy to
show up when all the work was fucking done.

And yes, they were
all
fucking
men.

What she knew she told them. No reason to
lie, she toed the official line. Van was reported stolen,
thirty-eight minutes later it was found on a highway full of bullet
holes with one dead body on board. Also on scene: six dead Mexicans
and six downed sport bikes. No ID on anyone. Prints were being
processed.
Why yes, please take those with you as well.

She had jurisdiction, yes. As Sheriff she
could throw them out, but the way they assumed control told her
this was cartel and drug shit.

It still bit her. There had been a major
shootout on a highway in her county and she couldn’t do a fucking
thing about it. It shamed her to have the thought, but it would
have been great for her to handle this and make an arrest of some
kind. Hand a criminal over instead of just an entire investigation
before the election campaign really started. But they did not have
the means to handle this properly. As pissed as she was, handing it
all over was the right call.

So she was stressed about her job and her
reputation as she stalked up to the Red Rebels clubhouse, still in
uniform, and it was likely a really bad idea to be there but she
was so frustrated going home and trying to relax wasn’t an
option.

The prospect, Rusty, kept her waiting outside
the door. She’d only been inside once, since her …
deflowering,
to hand over privileged material to Jayce
concerning Gertie and the investigation into who had abused her and
the men who had shot his wife. No surprise that she was left out on
the baking asphalt to wait.

McClune stepped through the door, wincing in
the sunlight that was just abating as the long day realized it was
evening. One eye was nearly closed as he nodded to her.
“Sheriff?”

She ignored the memories, which was an easy
task because she had to do it all the time. This was not the moment
to react to him like a nineteen year old. “I found Grainger’s van,”
she replied, getting right to it.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. It had a dead guy in it, and there
were about a half dozen more dead guys around it. You know what
that might be about?”

McClune didn’t so much as blink, and she
marveled at that stone-faced control. She hoped she’d exhibited
five percent as much ability with it as Jayce had when those DEA
dicks were jerking her around. “Sorry Sheriff,” he replied with the
beginning of a charming smile. “That’s bad news. Mickey liked that
van.”

“It’s part of a multiple homicide
investigation. He won’t be getting it back.”

“Well, thank you for letting us know,
Sheriff. You could have called; no need to go out of your way.”

She planted her hands on her hips and took a
deep breath. “Fuck you,” she retorted.

That got a bit more of a surprised reaction.
“What?” The door opened behind him and Tank stepped outside as
well, standing behind Jayce’s right shoulder. Fritter moved to the
opposite side of his President. She ignored him. Hell, maybe she
was
as good at this as Jayce.

“I said ‘fuck you,’” she repeated, still
managing to block out Fritter. Tank’s response was noticeable
though. He made a sound of amused shock which pissed her off more.
“Don’t play like I’m an idiot Jayce,” she went on, eyes on his. “I
trust you guys to take care of your shit so that no one in Markham
gets hurt. I’m looking at a bunch of dead Mexicans in this county
and I get nervous that you can’t control this. If bad things are
headed our way I want to know right now so I can prepare my
officers and deputies to take everything fucking seriously. I don’t
want any of my people hurt. And I sure as shit don’t want civilians
getting shot because of what you guys are up to.”

Jayce took a step forward, and it was her
first instinct to step back but she held steady. The smell of
leather and sweat was on him; that’s how close he was. A memory
came flooding back, a twenty-three-year-old Jayce kissing her hard,
all over her with just hands and his mouth, and in her inebriated
state she had known then and there she was going to like sex just
fine.

That wasn’t on his face now. He wasn’t having
the same memory. He had gone stone faced and cold and she tried her
best not to gulp as she swallowed her nervousness. “I have no idea
what happened on that highway,” he said, low and chilly. “Mickey’s
van got stolen, Jolene called it in when she saw it was gone. Do we
have enemies? Sure. Same ones as you. We helped you take out that
pedo ring a few months’ back, remember? My money’s on them taking
the van to fuck with us. Anything that happened after that I have
no idea.”

She narrowed her eyes. When he’d fed her
information in the past she’d believed it, just like she had with
these Mazari guys. But she’d had that kid they’d saved as proof of
what they were telling her. On this she had nothing.

She didn’t believe a word of it, not for a
fucking second.

“You can relax,” she replied evenly, proud of
her own pissed off but still contained tone. “It’s not my case
anyway. It’s been taken over because all those guys, to me anyway,
appear to be part of a Mexican cartel. Which means the DEA has
taken yet another investigation away from me.”

“Well that’s good then,” he said with a
too-sunny smile as he stepped back. “You’ll have more time for
parking tickets.”

Tank snorted, and she noted that Fritter was
looking at his feet without much expression. Whatever. She didn’t
care.