twenty minutes past the designated delivery time. Angus, who was the van's driver, should have signalled by now.
Caine was starting to get seriously worried.
He sipped at his beer and caught a glimpse of Cherish through the crowd. She was sitting in a booth, with Addie chatting at her.
T-Bone was right. Nothing he could do right now, so why not take his mind of business and put it on something a whole hell of a lot more pleasant.
He started to walk through the crowd, in Cherish's direction when his phone vibrated.
He looked at its screen.
"LATE" was the text message.
Caine froze. Ah, crap.
He checked the number and the message was not from Angus, but from the buyer.
The buyer, who was the Banished Souls biggest client, had actually messaged him to say the delivery was late.
Damn.
Alarmed, he started to push his way through the crowd, this time toward the exit. He tried calling Pacer, but the phone went to voice mail.
"Something is up," he said. "Gimme a call. Now." As he spoke he almost didn't recognize Cherish standing near him in the crowd.
Lost in thought, he nodded to her but kept walking, hoping she would understand.
Once outside he headed to his camaro. His phone rang. It was Pacer.
"We got a problem," the Prospect said, sounding stressed.
"Okay," Caine said. "Let's meet." And hung up. They were not going to talk details over the phone. Instead, Caine got into his car and headed to their designated meeting spot, an abandoned car park several blocks away.
As Caine pulled in he saw Pacer was already parked there in a disposable crap car.
Caine pulled up to Pacer's car, so their driver windows were side by side, just like cop patrol cars did.
"We got hit," Pacer said, before Caine could speak.
Caine felt ice shoot down his spine. "The hell happened?"
Pacer kept his cool, hoping Caine wasn't the type to kill the messenger. He said, "Pedestrian found Angus' body about twenty minutes just outside of town on the side of the road. Shot in the head."
Caine's mind raced. "The van?"
Pacer shook his head with a grimace.
Someone had hit them, stole their goods, and killed one of the Club's own.
Someone with balls.
Caine glared at Pacer in confusion, "What about the secondary car?"
Caine had arranged for another Hang Around to follow the van at a distance, just as back up. It felt like the right call to make considering the amount of money involved.
It was Pacer's turn to look confused. "Secondary? Grunt pulled that."
"What?!" Caine shouted, anger flaring.
"Said we'd never needed it before. That it was a waste of manpower."
Caine was beside himself with anger. Grunt had overruled him? Without even a discussion?
Caine cursed, punching at the car's dashboard. This was not good. Not good at all.
But, he had to keep his head in the game. Losing his cool would not resolve this screw up. But who screwed up?
Caine did. By trusting Grunt.
"Okay," Caine said after a few moments. "Where's Angus now?"
Pacer was somewhat relieved Caine was not raging on him. "At the morgue. Detectives all over him. They set up a crime scene by the highway where he was found."
Caine nodded. He doubted they would find anything. At least nothing linking his death to the Banished Souls. Not directly. There would be questions, but everyone was well versed on how to handle police enquires. Their lives depended on it.
This made him think of something else. Would whoever this was hit them again? Was it the start of a war with another Biker Club, or gang, or was this some rogue element with a death wish?
"You strapped?" Caine asked. "If someone is gunning for us, we all need to be prepared."
Pacer made a motion with his hand, indicating he had something under his jacket. "Ready for anything, boss."
"Okay. I want you to go back to the warehouse and double, triple check
Caine was starting to get seriously worried.
He sipped at his beer and caught a glimpse of Cherish through the crowd. She was sitting in a booth, with Addie chatting at her.
T-Bone was right. Nothing he could do right now, so why not take his mind of business and put it on something a whole hell of a lot more pleasant.
He started to walk through the crowd, in Cherish's direction when his phone vibrated.
He looked at its screen.
"LATE" was the text message.
Caine froze. Ah, crap.
He checked the number and the message was not from Angus, but from the buyer.
The buyer, who was the Banished Souls biggest client, had actually messaged him to say the delivery was late.
Damn.
Alarmed, he started to push his way through the crowd, this time toward the exit. He tried calling Pacer, but the phone went to voice mail.
"Something is up," he said. "Gimme a call. Now." As he spoke he almost didn't recognize Cherish standing near him in the crowd.
Lost in thought, he nodded to her but kept walking, hoping she would understand.
Once outside he headed to his camaro. His phone rang. It was Pacer.
"We got a problem," the Prospect said, sounding stressed.
"Okay," Caine said. "Let's meet." And hung up. They were not going to talk details over the phone. Instead, Caine got into his car and headed to their designated meeting spot, an abandoned car park several blocks away.
As Caine pulled in he saw Pacer was already parked there in a disposable crap car.
Caine pulled up to Pacer's car, so their driver windows were side by side, just like cop patrol cars did.
"We got hit," Pacer said, before Caine could speak.
Caine felt ice shoot down his spine. "The hell happened?"
Pacer kept his cool, hoping Caine wasn't the type to kill the messenger. He said, "Pedestrian found Angus' body about twenty minutes just outside of town on the side of the road. Shot in the head."
Caine's mind raced. "The van?"
Pacer shook his head with a grimace.
Someone had hit them, stole their goods, and killed one of the Club's own.
Someone with balls.
Caine glared at Pacer in confusion, "What about the secondary car?"
Caine had arranged for another Hang Around to follow the van at a distance, just as back up. It felt like the right call to make considering the amount of money involved.
It was Pacer's turn to look confused. "Secondary? Grunt pulled that."
"What?!" Caine shouted, anger flaring.
"Said we'd never needed it before. That it was a waste of manpower."
Caine was beside himself with anger. Grunt had overruled him? Without even a discussion?
Caine cursed, punching at the car's dashboard. This was not good. Not good at all.
But, he had to keep his head in the game. Losing his cool would not resolve this screw up. But who screwed up?
Caine did. By trusting Grunt.
"Okay," Caine said after a few moments. "Where's Angus now?"
Pacer was somewhat relieved Caine was not raging on him. "At the morgue. Detectives all over him. They set up a crime scene by the highway where he was found."
Caine nodded. He doubted they would find anything. At least nothing linking his death to the Banished Souls. Not directly. There would be questions, but everyone was well versed on how to handle police enquires. Their lives depended on it.
This made him think of something else. Would whoever this was hit them again? Was it the start of a war with another Biker Club, or gang, or was this some rogue element with a death wish?
"You strapped?" Caine asked. "If someone is gunning for us, we all need to be prepared."
Pacer made a motion with his hand, indicating he had something under his jacket. "Ready for anything, boss."
"Okay. I want you to go back to the warehouse and double, triple check
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