Chapter Nine
Skye put her empty coffee cup in the sink. It was almost time to leave for work, and she hadn’t heard anything from the spare room since getting up that morning. It was hard to resist knocking on his door, using the excuse of checking in to see Finn before leaving.
Then he walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, and she lost her train of thought.
He wore only his jeans, otherwise barefoot and bare-chested. The whisper of day-old stubble on his chin added to his appeal, giving him a rugged look. Finn scratched his jaw, eyes still half shut, and it was easy to imagine him lying in bed, rolling over and giving her that same heavy-lidded smile after a night of serious lovemaking.
She bit down on her tongue, remembering her naughty thoughts of the previous evening.
Finn nodded. “Hoped I’d catch you before you left. Got some work today?”
“I’ve got another shift at the diner before doing some late-night cleaning at the real estate offices, so I’ll be popping in and out, plus visiting Robby.” She glanced at the calendar stuck on the refrigerator door. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. I’ll be picking up the usual shift from the Watleys, minding the store for them while they go to church. Eight until noon.”
“That’s a lot of work at a whole lot of different places.” Finn took down a coffee mug and poured himself a cup. “Can’t you find steady full-time work?”
“Not around here.” She fought to keep her tone light. “It’s been that way for years. Businesses come and go, and it’s easier for a lot of them to hire more part-time workers than full-time. So I gather up my shifts, and in the end, they add up to forty hours or more, depending on the week.”
“Rough way to live.” Finn reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re one tough lady, Skye Harris.”
She tried not to dwell on the loss she felt when he released her hand. “And you? What’s on your schedule for the day?”
He paused, and Skye suspected he was measuring how much to reveal to her. “A number of things. Last night I tagged a couple of bikers with GPS trackers, courtesy of Trey.”
She frowned. “What? Why?”
“Because while I know where their clubhouse is, I don’t know where they’re stashing the heroin.” He gestured at the wall with his mug. “Most gangs, the smart ones at least, don’t keep their drugs in the same place they hang out in. Too easy for the cops to raid and too tempting to the members to sample the goods. So, there’s got to be another location where they’re taking the cars that people drive back. Then they pull them apart and retrieve the heroin stashed inside. Then they cut it with filler and start splitting it up into smaller, more portable packets for their local dealers.”
She nodded.
“We’re trying to find those locations by tracking the gang members. At some point, they’re going to go to the warehouse.” He picked up his cell phone from where it lay on the table. “Next, we need to find where they’re meeting the drivers with the cars. Smart operation like this wouldn’t have taken your brother into their secret garage to let him drive out with a car full of cash, much less drive the loaded car right back to the same spot. Mick Smith may be a prime time jerk but he’s not stupid. He’s using the most efficient way he can to get the drugs in and out of town, running a “need to know” operation.”
Skye pressed her lips together to hold back the flash of anger. “Mick Smith would strap cash and drugs to a pregnant woman’s belly if he needed to.”
“He might.” Finn acknowledged. “But it’s not a good way to run a business. They’re not bringing the heroin back to their clubhouse, and I need to find out where they are taking it.”
“Then what? You take more pretty pictures using some of your high-tech toys? You know it’s never going to be enough to get them convicted. They’ll slide through like they’ve done so far.” Skye snapped, giving in to her anger. “I did my research while I was sitting in the hospital room, waiting to hear if my brother was alive or dead. People like this don’t go to jail. They bribe, bully, or beat up anyone in the way of what they want. Including the police, lawyers, and prosecutors.” She turned the water on in the sink with a violent yank on the faucet, sending it spewing into her empty cup.
Finn waited to speak until she’d turned off the water. “When we take them down, we’ll go straight to the Feds and give them Smith and the gang all gift-wrapped and ready to go. We’ve got good people behind this—it’ll stick.”
She shook her head, unwilling to let him comfort her. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready to accept that you can make it happen. You’ve got the connections; you can get the weapons. Why not blow it all to hell? Start with the clubhouse and take out their garages, take out their drug hideouts. Let it burn with or without them inside. I don’t care.”
He stared at her, and she knew she’d pushed him too far.
“I came to clean up the town and put the gang out of business. If I do my job right, no one dies and the bad guys go to jail.” He cleared his throat. “Believe me, I know about revenge. But right now, you focus on Robby and leave the rest to me.”
She shook her head, the anger draining away. “I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine a life without my brother.”
Finn came closer, his soft smile banishing the last of the darkness from her mind.
He stroked her cheek, the simple touch soothing her jangled nerves. “Then let’s make sure you don’t have to.”