Chapter Fifteen
Finn turned right and slid the truck into an empty parking spot by the curb. Sunday in Whistling Willows was quiet—almost zombie-apocalypse quiet. He was still a few blocks from the storage facility, and that was fine with him. He didn’t need to be close to place the tiny drone.
He opened the drone case, revealing the one he had left.
He admired the hand-sized black plastic gadget. Trey had modified these drones so they could be used for a variety of tasks, including packing small explosives if they needed a distraction.
Here, all Finn needed was surveillance on the front of the storage facility for their records. He turned the small camera on with a flick of his fingernail. It immediately flashed up on his cell phone, feeding back a picture of himself as he activated the small engine.
“Let’s go see what’s happening,” Finn said as he placed the drone atop the roof of his truck.
The small disk rose into the air as he worked the small joysticks.
Finn studied the images on his cell phone as he directed it over the buildings.
There.
The storage facility was an L-shaped building with a large parking lot in front of it. Finn found it easy to imagine the former flea market, the tables set up to display and sell everything from comics to old vinyl records.
He directed the drone to a higher altitude, seeing plainly the dark marks on the asphalt leading into one specific unit. He aimed for the other edge of the complex, trying to get a good angle on the entire front of the building. Unlike what he’d done at the clubhouse, this one would be better suited going for the long range. It took only a few more minutes to settle the unit atop the far end of the building, aimed across the parking lot at the doors.
Finn hit the button, starting the transmissions to Trey. He tested the zoom function, clearly picking up the two club members hanging out at the front of the orange metal door, smoking and talking as they stood guard.
Mission accomplished.
…
Skye mopped the floor, wondering what Robby would make of Finn. He’d probably like Finn, having always respected the military.
He might not like that she was sleeping with him, though.
They’d deal with that when Robby woke up.
She strained out the mop and started to wheel the bucket to the back to dump the water.
A movement caught her eye, and she glanced out the windows.
A trio of motorcycles sat in the parking lot, the riders laughing and gesturing to each other as they refilled their tanks.
Including Mick Smith.
Skye’s throat closed up as she stared at the bald man leaning against his ride. She’d seen him around town before, but only at a distance.
And as a man, not a monster who had tried to kill her brother.
Go get the shovel from the back.
The fantasy coalesced in her mind as the men filled their tanks.
Kick the door open and go at him, use the element of surprise. He’ll never see it coming.
His men would be shocked into silence for a few seconds, watching her beat their glorious leader.
Then they’d kill me. Or Smith would, if he survived.
Skye took a step back, jolting herself out of the scenario.
She shook her head.
No.
She rolled the bucket to the back room where she dumped the dirty water into the sink. The mop went into the corner to dry along with the bucket.
When she came back out, Mick was at the counter. Black tattoos crept up his arms like evil spirits, Celtic wolves tangling around each other, with flashes of pale skin trying to escape. The leather vest rested on his shoulders like a ceremonial robe, loose and flapping on his slender frame. The dark black goatee reminded her of the old horror movies where the devil appeared, pitchfork at the ready.
She steeled herself and headed to the cash register as if nothing was wrong.
The gang leader picked out a candy bar before letting out a large belch, the likely result of chugging back most of the bottle of soda he held in his free hand. He looked at her with a leer, daring her to react to the rudeness.
“Sorry for making you wait. I was in the back room cleaning up,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes down.
It was hard not to stare at him, or scowl at the dusty boot prints on the freshly mopped floor.
But it wasn’t worth it.
Not yet, anyway.
He gave her a stone-cold glare before dropping a pile of bills on the counter.
She managed a smile and a nod as she worked the cash register and gave him his change.
He strolled back out and said something to the men, the trio breaking into laughter.
She drew a deep breath and took a step back from the counter, moving out of sight. The cigarette cartons pressed against her back as she waited for the roar of the engines signaling their departure.
…
“It’s set up and ready to go,” Finn said into his phone. He’d driven to a nearby park before calling Trey, getting some distance between the storage units and himself. “How’s the image quality?”
“Clear and crisp. Just the way I like it,” Trey replied. “Glad you paid attention during those courses I gave you. I’ll call if there are any issues. I’m sending a few spares with the equipment for the truck stop, in case something goes wrong.”
“Thanks. Talk to you later.”
Finn cut the connection. He still had a few hours before meeting Skye, and he wasn’t going to spend all of it sitting in a truck watching the live feed from both gang hideouts.
The Sunday surge was in full force with only a scattering of seats open. Finn found himself a spot at the lunch counter.
“Finn.” April came up and smiled as she handed him a menu. “Skye’s not on today. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m here for the food. And the company.” He gave her a wide grin. “What’s the breakfast meal deal today?”
“Chicken and waffles.” She nodded toward the back. “Julius’ll probably give you an extra-large serving, you keeping Skye happy and all.” April batted her eyelashes.
Finn leaned back. “She told you something?”
“Honey, I wasn’t born yesterday. Ever since you came to town, she’s got a spring in her step, and given she’s worried to death about Robby, that’s an amazing thing.” Her smile disappeared. “Horrible thing about her brother. He’s got a good soul.”
“You know Robby?”
The redhead fiddled with her apron springs. “He used to come here and wait for Skye when she worked late, then walk her home.”
“Did he mention he was looking for work?” Finn asked.
“He did. Ran some errands for Julius, but he couldn’t justify keeping him on full-time.” She shook her head. “Horrible thing, getting mugged like that. Makes you afraid to walk alone at night.”
Finn nodded. “He ever talk about any other jobs? New friends helping him out?”
She paused, her forehead furrowed. “Not that I remember. We weren’t best buddies or anything like that—I only saw him when he did some work for Julius or came to meet Skye.”
A bell went off back in the kitchen.
“Got to go. I’ll put your order in.” April turned away.
Finn watched her retreat to the kitchen, wondering how Robby Harris had found himself in the company of the Wolf’s Teeth.
He shifted his thoughts to the upcoming discussion with the Watleys.
One problem at a time.