Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“I can feel you fuming,” Raoul said from the passenger seat.
“That fucker—”
“Yeah, and we’re gonna get him. Just don’t let your private shit get in the way. No one else on the force knows about your personal connection. Unless you want this whole case to blow up, you’d better keep it that way.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your head on straight, Boy Scout.”
“As opposed to what? Crooked?”
“We don’t know what we’re walking into or who’ll be around. Whatever you do, whoever you see, don’t react like you’ve got something to hide.”
“You think Azariah might be at the club? He hasn’t been dancing since he sprained his ankle.”
Raoul twisted his wedding ring. “Not saying he will be, but we’d better be prepared for anything.”
Connelly nodded even as his heart began to pound. He wasn’t prepared. There was no reason for Azariah to be there. No reason anyone but Raoul would ever find out how he’d gotten the information. With the evidence they’d found at the warehouse, no judge in the world would let Castor walk.
But still, even with all those assurances running through his mind, his heart still beat too hard as he double-parked near the club and radioed the rest of the squad to organize the raid. There were too many variables. Too many people. If he’d had more patience he would have postponed this until the morning, but he couldn’t let it go now.
He and Raoul would go in through the front door with the Midtown North boys, while the Organized Crime Unit and a group of uniformed officers went around to secure the back. With all the exits covered there was no way for anyone to escape. He just hoped no one started shooting.
They could hear the club music before they even opened the doors. Connelly waited and tried to slow his breathing. When the pulsing beat abruptly ended he knew the power had been cut. That was their signal. He nodded at Raoul and they all rushed in, flashlights waving.
“NYPD! Put your hands up,” Raoul shouted as he burst into the main room. Every patron in the place seemed to gasp simultaneously but they raised their hands.
Officers began corralling everyone outside to line up against the wall.
“Everybody, file out. Hands on the wall.”
He waved his gun at the dancers who came out from backstage. They all lifted their arms immediately. “You too.”
Connelly recognized two of them but there were new faces too. And one that was missing.
“Where’s Savage?” Connelly asked the blond with the angry eyes. He stood in front of the others like he’d protect them from whatever came.
“Who?” the blond asked.
Behind Connelly more officers began checking the corners and making their way into the back rooms.
“You got them?” Connelly asked Raoul.
“Yeah,” Raoul answered, and then to the dancers. “Get on your knees, hands behind your backs.”
As Connelly left to find the man he’d come for, he heard them say, “What the fuck? We didn’t do anything.”
“Good, then you don’t have anything to hide.” Raoul’s clear, patient voice rang out in the dingy club even above the scuffle and noise of the other officers searching the premises.
Connelly and two of the uniformed officers headed down a long narrow hall.
“Check the bathrooms, I’ll cover you.”
The first officer shouldered open the men’s room door. “Hands up. Face the wall.”
Connelly followed him into the tiled space, keeping the door open with his foot, his gun pointed at the missing dancer. Lirim Savage. The man who’d said he didn’t know anything about drugs being sold at the club was standing in the bathroom with white powder all over the sink and floor and a half-full baggie of the stuff near his foot.
Connelly grimaced. “Christ,” he said. “Read him his rights and stash him in a squad car, then call the CSU to clean that shit up.”
Hands steady, Connelly backed out and nodded to another officer to follow him. There was only one room that still hadn’t been checked and it was helpfully labeled the office.
He didn’t even bother to check if it was unlocked, he just kicked the damn thing open and did his best not to shoot the fucker sitting behind the massive oak desk.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“This is bullshit.”
Lirim’s voice was the first thing Z heard as he rounded the corner on the way to The Vibe. Before he registered the crowd milling across the road, or the flashing lights and police vehicles, he noticed the lack of thundering music and vibration. At this time of night there should have been more noise.
The boys were huddled together near the club entrance.
“Oh God, Z. You’re here. I was just about to call you.” Ansel sounded panicked as he clutched Z’s forearm. It was so odd hearing Ansel sound like that, it took Z aback for a second. “Holy shit, your hair. What did you do?” Ansel’s eyes were as big as saucers.