Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Rez debated bringing up his conversation with Saint. “They might be pretty fucking desperate for prospects. They tried to grow faster than they could keep up with, so now they have some businesses that are short-handed because of their lack of free or cheap labor.”
“But they aren’t that desperate that they’ll take just anyone.” Crew raised one eyebrow.
Rez read that gesture clearly, but he was about to dispel that notion. “Not so sure of that.”
Crew’s gray eyes locked on him. “What do you know?”
Rez sucked in a breath. “When I was at The Peach Pit last night, I happened to have a little convo with Saint.”
“On purpose?” Finn asked.
“Not sure anyone speaks to that asshole on purpose,” Rez answered. “I was chatting with Sapphire—”
“Of fucking course,” Finn muttered.
“Saint wasn’t happy about it.”
“No surprise,” Finn muttered some more.
“Anyway… He ran Sapphire off and I figured I’d chat him up a little bit.”
“And? Can you get to the fucking point?” Decker asked.
Rez glanced down the table at him. “I’m there keeping an eye out for T-Bone, asshole, for you.”
“Get that, but this doesn’t need to be a long-drawn-out story.”
Rez flipped Decker off, then focused on Crew sitting at the head of the table. “Told him I might be interested in buying some of what he’s selling.”
“Pussy? I knew you had to pay for it, fucker!” PSP Trooper Carl Powers howled.
Both Crew and Rez ignored him. “Was he open to selling to you?”
“Of course. Money is money to them. It doesn’t matter where or who it comes from. I’m going back tomorrow night. I just need some of that sweet federal cash to do a buy.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll get you enough to buy a small amount to start. Maybe you can establish yourself as a regular buyer there.”
“Will do. At least it’ll get more of that shit off the street.”
“He could order more fucking pizzas from Pizza Town, too, for that very reason. But we all know why he jumped on hanging out at The Peach Pit,” Decker said.
“Yeah, for T-Bone,” Rez snapped. “Damn, dude.”
“You mean a T-Boner for Sapphire,” Finn said on a snort.
“Anyway,” he said loudly, “Saint asked—in a way—if I was interested in becoming a prospect.”
Everyone at the table went dead silent.
“You?” finally burst from Crew.
“Yeah, surprised the fuck out of me, too,” Rez admitted with a shrug.
The task force leader frowned. “You’d go for that?”
“No fucking way.”
“Doubt Viper or Screw would accept you, anyway,” Decker said. “That club is certainly not a melting pot, that’s for damn sure. They’re all bright white and not bright upstairs. Clearly, you’re not lily white and as for upstairs… I’ll just stop there.”
“When you were down at the party house, you didn’t see any tinge of color other than ghost white, right?” Crew asked him.
“Fuck no. And I saw some so-called ‘decor’ that would make anyone not of the mayonnaise variety very uncomfortable. That’s why I don’t think Viper would give the green light for our Latino lover here to wear a prospect cut.”
“That sucks,” Crew muttered.
Not for Rez, it didn’t. He was not looking to go undercover with an outlaw MC. He didn’t mind making buys, though. And of course, the Deadly Demons didn’t discriminate who they sold to. When it came to selling drugs, the only color that mattered to them was green.
“But…”
“Jesus, brother. You’re going to make this meeting twice as long,” Nox grumbled.
“Like you got something better to do? You watch the cameras and video all fucking day,” Rez said.
Right now, Nox’s main job for the task force was to watch the camera feed from either the Demons’ church or The Peach Pit to document shit by time-stamping and taking notes of anything worthwhile. Others filled in around his schedule since there was a shitload of feeds to watch and that number was growing.
Besides watching the cameras, a small team was listening to “dirty talk,” aka wiretaps, and transcribing them for evidence or gleaning info they’d need to continue the investigation.
“Just get on with it, Rez Dispenser,” Crew ordered.
“Okay, here’s the thing… They’re still working on that addition at the Uniontown church, right?” He glanced over at Nox for confirmation.
“Yeah, they got those first three rooms done, but since then, nothing. Think they might’ve gotten screwed by whoever was doing the work. Or they screwed over that person. Either way.”
“You mean they actually hired a contractor?” Rez asked Nox.
“Not sure. But I haven’t seen the rag tag crew there doing shit lately. Maybe the Demons stopped paying.”
“Maybe,” Crew murmured, then asked Rez, “Why are you asking that?”
“Because I told Saint last night my ass was broke but that I’d have money for meth tomorrow since I was getting paid for a construction job today.”
“I’d gladly pay you Tuesday, for a hamburger today,” Torres mumbled at the other end of the table.