Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Judge
I walk through the entrance of Blissful Passages Pet Crematorium and Grief Center, heading for the manager’s office, and there, standing in the doorway, is the man himself, shifting from foot to foot while working a hangnail on his thumb with his teeth.
I cringe thinking of where his hands have been, and now, they’re in his freaking mouth.
Yuck.
Hooks sits at the desk, his cut layered over his long-sleeved dress shirt.
It’s shocking to see him in a suit instead of his jeans and everyday biker attire.
His hair is brushed back from his head, but I can tell he’s been combing his fingers through it.
The same fingers that are now clacking over the computer keys.
Hooks is our accountant and treasurer. He keeps all our businesses running smoothly, in the black, and legal.
“How bad is it?”
I ignore the manager’s gasp when he’s pushed up against the wall and detained. Hammer has him under control, so I’ll deal with the lying thief in a moment.
“I caught him fast enough, but it’s still a good couple hundred grand. Fucker thought if he used a cleaning service out of Providence, it would cover his tracks. This is bigger than just this fucker, though,” Hooks huffs out as he continues typing away, trying to find exact amounts.
“A couple hundred grand?”
Immediately, I turn and grab the manager by the throat, lifting him and squeezing his skinny neck.
Hammer releases him as I use my strength to keep him aloft.
I’ve been so focused on getting the factory up and running that it never occurred to me that someone would steal from me until the government inspection that we usually pass detected a flaw in the contamination certifications. They were fakes.
The manager claws at my hands, his face turning blue as he struggles.
His legs kick, but I just hold him at arm’s length, my muscles flexing slightly.
The fucking pissant started with the company just a couple of months ago.
Right about the time I was down in Eastport.
Our regular manager hired him before he went on paternity leave.
Thank fuck he’ll be back soon. This was only supposed to be a temporary assignment, but I’d been talking to Mathews, who suggested keeping him around as backup so he wouldn’t have to work all the time. I’d almost agreed. Glad I didn’t.
“Is this because you were afraid your job was going away?” I ask as I drop him thoughtlessly. He coughs and hacks for a moment before pulling out his cell phone. Hammer kicks it from his hand, and it shatters against the wall.
“They’ll still come.” This guy’s whiny voice grates on my nerves. I’m about to stomp the fuck out of him, with his cheap suit, sleaze ball look, hair greased back, and counterfeit watch. But his words break through my fog of anger.
“Who, the police?” I can’t hold back the caustic laugh. Fucker is still new enough to town that he thinks the cops will save him. He has no idea who really runs this town.
“Yes.” He smiles triumphantly.
I squat in front of him as he braces his body against the wall.
“You stole from me. You stole from the club.” I wave my hand to the men now standing in the lobby behind me.
“I can have the sheriff take you in, and I’d still get to you.
We own this town.” His eyes go wide, and he looks around for help or a weapon.
“I got the money back. It was sitting in an offshore account, but you’ll want Mal to do a more thorough search of his laptop,” Hooks says and moves to stand next to me.
Hooks was here when the OSHA inspector was on the premises.
The inspector pointed out that the full disclosure of a chemical used to clean surfaces to avoid cross-contamination was false.
Hooks called me as soon as he arrived at the office and found proof of embezzlement along with the false documentation.
OSHA left, issuing a warning that they’ll be back in four weeks, and we need the situation fixed by then.
“Look, no harm, no foul. You have your money. Don’t hurt me,” the thief begs, pausing as he looks away. A good sign that he’s lying and hiding something.
“Find me Grave.” I bark out, knowing one of my men will get him.
Grave is the chaplain of our club and a veterinary technician, specializing in cremation.
He’s been working for me for years, and I wanted him to step in as manager for the short time needed, but he insisted he couldn’t.
He might be our chaplain, but he’s not the friendliest people-person in our crew.
Grave tromps up from the basement, drying off his hands. The big guy remains quiet, just shaking his head for a moment while taking in the scene in front of him. His gray hair is messed up, a clue that he’s pissed off. Usually, it’s perfectly done.
Slowly, he pushes his glasses up his face.
“Fuck. I knew that pissant motherfucker was up to something.” His gravelly voice comes from years of smoking and fighting when he was younger and intimidates most men who don’t know him.
What few people rarely learn is that he’s a big softy.
He has a freaking cat and dog who are his “people,” he says.
“How bad is it?” I ask. Grave is meticulous about his workspace. It’s clean and organized, proof of his years working in a veterinary practice.
“Nothing extraordinary. I’m enough of a germaphobe that I double-clean with the old stuff, then use the new stuff that I didn’t like.
OSHA didn’t like that, though. I can fix it for their return.
I’ll make sure it’s all good. Gotta head to one of the clinics outside town to talk to a family, and then I’m headed back here to work.
How bad is it up here?” He points to the office.
“You’re in charge until Mathews comes back. Fucker embezzled a couple hundred thousand.” Grave begins to protest. “No,” I cut him off. “You’ll do this because I’m not going through this again.” I wave my hand at the fucker sniveling on the ground. “It’s only a couple weeks.”
“Prez, I’m not comfortable doing that.”
“Get comfortable, I can’t give up anyone else. Hammer, take the prick to the crypt. Find out anything he knows and why he did this. He’s hiding shit.”
“I’ll get the ovens ready,” Grave says as he turns and starts for the stairs again. He knows we’ll need to get rid of this fucker when we’re done with him.
“Nooooo,” the idiot screams and cries, but the sounds drift away as Hammer takes him out the back without breaking a sweat.
The sheriff enters through the front doors. He hears the man screaming and asks, “What did he do?” while taking everything in. “And who was that?”
“It was that new guy in town, Dean Perez. He embezzled money from us and used an inefficient cleaner in the workroom that got us put on notice.”
“He’s also suspected of a sexual assault.”
“You didn’t come tell me that before, Sheriff?” The Kings of Anarchy don’t own this town, but we run it and protect it. Nothing should happen here without me being kept in the loop.
We both walk out the front, me heading for my motorcycle and him for his SUV.
We pause for a moment before he says, “I haven’t had time.
The victim just came forward; she was afraid of him and her husband.
Went out with some friends to celebrate, and he drugged and raped her.
Her husband isn’t too happy either. Fucker is accusing her of cheating on him. ”
“We’ll take care of it. Get the victim any help she needs, on us. Let the husband know we’ll be coming to talk to him unless he changes his fucking mind.”
“I can do that. She’s new to town, too, just moved here from Maine with her husband and two small children. She was in the process of opening the veterinary clinic up the road.”
“Shit, okay.” A new business start-up is important to Jupiter, and I do remember meeting with her. She was a petite little thing with red hair, and her husband was a dickhead who played on his phone and was outside vaping instead of helping her with their two children.
I make a mental note to swing by to ensure she’s okay and doesn’t need anything. Or that she hasn’t decided to run after what Perez-fucker did to her.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I pull it out. Not recognizing the number, I send it to voicemail, then ride to the clubhouse about fifteen minutes away. By the time I pull up to the expansive former lakeside estate at the end of Main Street, my phone goes off again.
“What?” I bark by way of greeting.
“Mr. Judge, this is Georgiana Rezos.”
I pause and take a deep breath before responding appropriately this time. “It’s just Judge, Mrs. Rezos. Sorry, it’s been a sh–, crappy day.”
“I understand that. Is now a good time to talk?”
I glance around at the property as the sun begins setting and decide that now is as good a time as any to have this conversation.
Ever since running into her back in September, I’ve anticipated her calling in her favor.
Guess it took a couple of months to figure out what she wanted.
Ruby hasn’t spoken to me much about Evie or her situation, but I knew what I’d say if I were asked.
In the two months since seeing Evie last, my feelings for her haven’t changed; if anything, they’ve grown stronger.
I’ve resorted to having Mal help me hack cameras in some of her usual places to watch her.
Her phone’s ”share location” setting has been turned on, and I also stalk her from time to time.
I can’t help myself; Gambit, the Shiver of Chaos’ president, gave me the idea.
He told me what he did to keep his wife, and I have to say, I’ve had several of those thoughts myself, but I’m unable to make them true. Or, well, I shouldn’t.