Chapter 6
The secret of going places you aren’t supposed to is to just act like you belong there.
Nobody says shit to us when we park in the alley next to Inferno and walk around back with our heads held high.
The club isn’t technically open yet, but we’ve had eyes on the place and know there are four staff members inside getting things ready.
Quinn’ll probably be pissed at us doing this, but I’m not going to tell her, and I’ll take angry and alive over happy and dead any fucking day of the week.
“Watch the back,” Priest tells Grimm.
“Yeah, I know the drill.”
Colt snorts. “Prospects cop more attitude every fucking year. Especially the old ones.”
Grimm flips him off.
The guy is only a prospect by technicality.
He was around before most of us, back under General when the Sons were first getting serious about being more than a violent social club for society’s rejects.
Some shit went down and he took off on his own, but showed back up a year or so ago.
He and Hellfire, our new president, have come to some sort of truce and Grimm’s been putting in his time to earn back his cut.
Taking a bullet for Hellfire probably helped.
Me, Colt and Priest slip inside. I check my piece, making sure I can get to it easily, just in case. Hopefully it won’t be. We’re here to put down some pressure, not shoot the place up.
There are two people working in the back, carrying boxes out of a storage room. Colt rounds them up without much trouble, distracting them with some bullshit story while Priest and I make our way to the main room.
A woman behind the bar, probably the bartender, is talking to a younger guy.
She looks up when we come in, eyes narrowing as she tries to figure out if we’re her problem or not.
She takes us in and I see the moment she decides it’s above her paygrade and looks away.
Smart. This might go smoothly after all.
I check the door, making sure it’s still locked and let out a sharp whistle with my fingers between my lips.
The two employees Colt sidetracked walk through the door, hands not over their heads, but out where we can see them.
Colt is right behind, and Grimm’s shadow hangs back to stay in sight of the back door while keeping an eye on what’s happening in here.
Like most jobs, the setup feels like hours when you’re waiting for shit to go wrong, but it’s really just a matter of minutes from the moment we walked in, until everyone’s accounted for and waiting to see if they make it out alive.
Not that we have any intention of killing anyone for the crime of being at work, but they don’t need to know that. A healthy dose of self-preservation can keep things moving nicely.
Priest claps loudly. “Okay! Now that we’re all here, listen up! We’ve got a couple fucking questions and if everyone cooperates, we’ll be on our way. You! What’s your name?” He points at the woman.
“Em?”
“That a question, Em?” I ask, walking behind the bar and herding them out into the open where we can see what they’re doing.
She shakes her head, flustered. “No.”
“Were any of you working during the PR party the other night?” Priest asks.
Em nods. “Me. John.” She points at the guy she was talking to. “Um, Selina?” She looks at one of the people from the back. “I think that’s it.”
One of the guys nods like a shaken bobblehead doll. “I was off that night. Took my girlfriend to the movies.”
“Good for you,” Colt says, dripping with sarcasm.
Priest glances down at his phone, taps to answer and moves to the side, talking quietly.
“A girl got a little extra in her drink that night. One of the actresses.” I watch their reactions carefully. “Did you hear about it?”
Em nods. “I—I did, but I swear I told the guy who called everything I knew. We checked the cameras and nothing showed up, but there were a lot of people there that night and we don’t have one hundred percent coverage of the floor.”
John is looking a little too sweaty for my liking.
I move my hand to where I know the butt of my gun is visible, and easy to reach. “Hey, buddy. You got something you want to say?”
He’s probably not a bad guy. Most people don’t know how they’d react in these sorts of situations until they are actually in them.
Even in the club, some guys deal better with the shit they’ve seen than others.
There’s a reason why we mostly recruit from people who are vetted and recommended.
The prospect period is vital to weed out the ones that just can’t handle it.
Our boy John here wouldn’t last long. He panics and makes a move to get away.
“Sit the fuck down!” I snap.
He drops like we’re playing musical chairs and the song just stopped. “I didn’t do anything!”
“But you clearly know something.” Crouching next to him, I rap my knuckles on the top of his head.
Em looks almost as annoyed as I am. “For fuck’s sake. If you saw something, tell them!”
“Look, it was really busy that night, okay? There were a lot of people hired by the show. I didn’t know who was doing what.
” His shoulders slump. “Some guy delivered a few of the trays for me. He just sort of showed up, helped for a bit and then he was gone. I was pissed because things started backing up, but like, I don’t know exactly which orders he carried.
Just figured he was flaky. You get that a lot in this business. ”
“Could you describe him?” Colt asks.
John shrugs. “I don’t know.” He flinches when I move. “I really don’t! Thin, I guess? Dark hair? Dressed like most people that work catering. He was just some guy!”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Em asks.
“Because I know we aren’t supposed to let anyone touch the orders, and I still don’t know if he was legit or not. It didn’t seem like a big deal, and she didn’t really get hurt, right? Maybe she just got sick,” he says without much confidence.
I look hard into his panicked eyes. “That’s the only reason you’re still breathing, Johnny boy.”
Priest, stuffing his phone into his pocket, points to Em.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m gonna give you a thumb drive and you’re gonna give me all of the fucking security footage from the other night.
Then John is gonna be scouring that shit looking for his man, and contacting the production company to see if that guy works for them.
Anything else he can think of to identify the mystery helper.
I’ll leave you a number to give me an update.
If we don’t hear from you in the next few days, we’re gonna have another chat, and not as friendly as today. Got me?”
She nods.
Colt taps his wrist. There’s only so much time we have before more people start showing up.
The longer we stand around, the more likely we get complications.
Em and Priest disappear for a few minutes to copy the files before coming back out, while me and Colt do our best to look dangerous. No one gives us any trouble.
Priest nods, and we fuck off. Once we’re out, we hit the highway to put some distance between us and the club before we lay low in one of our usual drop locations for a bit to see if there are any repercussions to our little visit.
“I wanna keep an eye on her,” Priest says. Obviously. We wouldn’t be fucking shaking down the club if we didn’t.
“Not disagreeing with you, brother, but she didn’t seem thrilled with being managed,” I point out.
He stays quiet, eyes focused on something that I don’t think we can see. “She’ll get used to it.”
Colt laughs. “Shit. This is going to be fun.”