Chapter Three
Skye looked at the shredded tissues in her hands. Her stomach churned, the reality of what she’d asked these people to do settling in her gut. She still couldn’t believe she’d said the words out loud.
What had possessed her to think she could come here and demand they help her kill Smith?
“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.” Jessie gently extracted the tissues and tossed them into the nearby trash can, then she offered the box to refresh Skye’s stash. “You did the right thing coming here.”
A knock came at the door.
Jessie patted her knee and got up. “Finally. I’m starving. Worked all day on a fraud case before coming here to hang out instead of getting myself dinner. Good thing you’re here—I hate to eat alone.”
As the other woman went to the door, Skye kept glancing over at the glass window, which vibrated with the throbbing music still coming from the dance floor.
Jessie came back with two plates of food and placed them on the table in front of the couch. “I’m not going to tell you this is the best cheeseburger ever, but darned close. And the fries are sprinkled with cheese and hot pepper flakes, so don’t be surprised at the heat.” She went to the mini fridge and plucked out a pair of water bottles. She opened one and handed Skye the other. “Don’t worry. Dylan and Finn know what they’re doing.”
“At least that makes two of them.” Skye pressed the cold bottle to her forehead, sighing at the icy touch. “Coming in here, yelling and screaming like that… I must look crazy.”
“Nah. That’s my job.” Jessie sat down beside her. “You care about your brother. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing at all. Trust me, I understand a bit about what you’re going through.”
“Robby’s all I have.” Skye picked up one of the fries and nibbled on it, finding her appetite returning with each bite. “All I could think about when I saw him in that hospital bed was getting revenge.” She dropped her head. “That’s awful.”
“That’s human,” Jessie said. “Given that situation, I can’t imagine too many people who wouldn’t be thinking the same thing.”
“I guess so. I sat there, ranting and raving about what I couldn’t do. Then about what I could do. Guess Pat got tired of my cursing. She passed me that card, and I drove straight here.” She looked around the office. “To whoever you and they are.”
Jessie smiled. “Dylan runs a group of men who take on cases where the law can’t or won’t get involved. It’s complicated, but the long and short of it is that they’ll help you. All we ask is that you don’t tell anyone about the Brotherhood, so we can keep on helping those who need it.”
Skye took a bite of her cheeseburger, her stomach growling as she found it as delicious as promised. She finished it and took a sip of water before daring to speak. “I don’t understand. What can they do? If the cops won’t help me, what can these men do?” She stopped, seeing Jessie’s wide grin.
“They have their ways,” the blonde said. “Trust me. They’ll do right by you.”
…
“Skye Eleanor Harris. Born in San Diego, one of two children. She has a brother six years younger, Robert James. Parents passed away courtesy of a drunk driver going the wrong way on the highway. Idiot driver survived, then came a long, nasty court case, ending in probation for him and a decent insurance settlement for the two surviving children. Skye was eighteen and decided to raise Robby on her own instead of putting him into foster care—no other family around to help out. They moved to Whispering Willows not long after that and used up what was left of the money to get settled.” Trey tapped on the keyboard, bringing up a series of images. “Took one semester at LVU for business, high marks. She ended up not finishing her degree due to financial difficulties.”
“Wasn’t the payout enough?” Finn asked.
“Not after all the lawyers got their cut. The single semester was all she could afford, between keeping her brother in school and keeping the household running. She dropped out and started working as a waitress, taking on a variety of odd jobs to survive. All good references, everyone loves her. Brother went to college a few years later, got himself a nice computer tech degree. Won a few scholarships along the way and took out some student loans, but it looks like Skye did most of the heavy lifting. They’re deep in debt and treading water right now.”
“Sacrificed her education for his.” Finn shook his head. “Dedicated to her brother. Can see why she’d go all rabid at seeing him get hurt like this.”
Dylan nodded, looking thoughtful. “Whispering Willows. Interesting name for a desert town.”
“I’d say the same about Las Vegas, which is Spanish for ‘the meadows.’ Go figure.” Trey shifted the images, bringing up more pictures on the various screens set around the briefing room. “Whispering Willows looks like a nice place on the surface. But according to recent news reports, there’s been a huge increase in drug use over the last six months. Crime’s up, local hospital and health clinics hit hard with addicts seeking treatment.”
Dylan, seated at the conference table, studied the graphs and charts flashing up on the screen. “Looks bad.”
“It is bad. There’s always been a low level of drugs available—marijuana, prescription drugs, some cocaine and heroin here and there. A year ago a new player showed up, started running some high-grade heroin into the area. Use spiked, along with the overdoses.”
Finn winced. “They’re cutting it with something else, maybe Fentanyl. It’s cheap and easy to obtain, allows them to stretch out the heroin and make more money. Adding in Fentanyl also makes the doses stronger, more potent. The users get it, think they can use the same amount for the same high. Makes their hearts explode.” He ground his teeth together, forcing back the memories threatening to fight their way to the front of his mind.
“Why hire from outside the gang?” Dylan asked. “They’ve got enough members—why not have one of their own drive the car?”
“Lowers the risk factor.” Finn studied the screen. “If the authorities grab the car, the driver’s not connected to the gang, has no information to bargain with.”
Dylan nodded. “So why aren’t the cops moving on this? Can’t be a big secret about who’s dealing.”
Trey brought up an image of the local police station. “They’re overwhelmed. Only a handful of officers trying to deal with the rising crime rate and failing badly. Town council’s unwilling to put the money out for more officers because they’d have to raise taxes, so while they’re fighting among themselves, the gang’s running wild.” He turned his attention to Dylan. “Explains why the cops were willing to write Robby’s attack off. They don’t have the time or manpower to go after the gang.”
“What about the Feds?” Finn asked.
“No ongoing operations in the area, and nothing scheduled in the near future. Odds are we’ll be going in alone to deal with these guys.” Another picture came up on the screen. “To be specific, this guy.”
A tall, wiry man glared out at them. “LAPD mug shot of Mick Smith, AKA the Wolf. Took leadership the old-fashioned way—killed the previous chief.”
“How?” Dylan asked.
“Officially, a bike accident. Wiped out on a highway and got hit by multiple vehicles. Unofficially, knocked down by Smith and pushed into oncoming traffic. No living family, so no one asked for any further investigation. Smith took charge of the gang without anyone putting up a fight. Changed the name to reflect his leadership.”
“What the Wolf wants the Wolf gets,” Finn said. “What was he arrested for?”
“Assault and battery. Did his time, paid the fine, and walked.” Trey touched the screen. “LAPD was glad to see him leave when he moved the gang out of town.”
“So where do you want to start?” Dylan focused his gaze on Finn.
“Get my ass to Whispering Willows, do some basic recon. Start scoping out the gang’s hideout, where they eat and party, the usual places. Figure out where they’re making the transfers and where they’re processing the dope.” Finn rubbed his chin. “Where they’re finding these drivers. They’re not putting up an ad on the internet asking for help, but they found Robby somehow. If he wasn’t using drugs, then someone pointed him toward Smith.”
Trey nodded. “I’ll get a toy box ready to go and set up a workstation here.”
“Good,” Dylan said. “Get hold of Wyatt and Ace. Tell them to grab a van and head for the hospital right now, to keep an eye on her brother. Give them covers as private nurses so no one kicks up a fuss. Odds are Smith’s already got a man on watch, making sure that if Robby wakes up, it won’t be long enough to point the finger at the gang. Let’s keep him safe.”
“Done and done.” Trey tapped on his laptop.
Dylan glanced up at the surveillance screen showing Jessie and Skye in his office. “Be ready to move out in the morning. We’ll offer her a place to stay overnight. She’s in no condition to drive back right now.”
Finn followed his gaze, studying the two women as they sat. “She’s going to be a handful.”
“I’d say that’s a given.” Dylan glanced at him. “I don’t have to tell you not to underestimate her, do I?”
“Not a chance.” Finn kept his eye on the dark-haired woman. “Not a chance,” he repeated.
…
Skye finished off the last of her fries, finally quelling the rumbling in her stomach. “The Brotherhood.” She was surprised at how easily the words rolled off her tongue. “It’s a good name.” She looked at Jessie. “How did you get involved?”
“I was kidnapped by a mobster, and my best friend came to Dylan for help.” Jessie said it so nonchalantly that Skye wasn’t sure for a second that she wasn’t being played.
She studied Jessie’s face, realization dawning as she recognized the woman from the news reports. The memories came rushing back, pushing her immediate concerns away. “The Fluxxx? That crazy shootout in the casino a few months ago.” She gasped as she put the pieces together. “That was you?”
“Yep.” Jessie nodded. “That was me and that was the Brotherhood. They saved me.” She held up her hand, two fingers in the air. “Twice. But it all worked out.”
Before she could ask for more details, the door opened and Dylan walked back in, followed by Finn. He settled behind his desk again as Finn stayed nearby.
She automatically got to her feet. Jessie also rose, dropping her napkin onto the near-empty plate.
“How was the burger?” Dylan asked. His gentle smile soothed her jittery nerves.
Finn, on the other hand, wasn’t smiling. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his gaze on the floor.
Skye held back a frown.
Is he mad at me?
“Excellent. My compliments to your cook. It’s my own fault. I should have known better to come out here all upset and on an empty stomach.” Her cheeks burned. “I need to apologize for what happened before. I…” She stopped, seeing Dylan’s upraised hand.
“Don’t. I can’t imagine what I’d do if it were my brother in a coma, in that situation.” His smile turned hard. “You know we can’t help you do what you asked. Or let you, now that you’ve told us. We won’t be accomplices to murder.”
She nodded, taking the admonishment in hand.
“But we are going to help you take this gang down. Finn here is going to go back with you and see what the situation is, see what we can manage.” His tone softened. “That’s tomorrow. You’re staying here tonight.”
She shook her head. “I can’t…”
“We’ve arranged for a man to go to your brother’s hospital room and stand watch. Nothing’s going to happen to him while you’re here. We have some suites in the building, and you can rest up until morning. Get some sleep now, and you and Finn can drive back after breakfast, tackle the problem with fresh, rested eyes.”
“Good idea.” Jessie took Skye’s arm and headed for the door. “I’ll get her settled while you two do whatever you men do when I’m not around.”
Skye smiled as she let herself be led out of the office. “You sure you’re not in charge here?”
Jessie chuckled. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”