Smolder: Trojans MC (27 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

God’s Reapers had several guys working inside the local police; it wasn’t hard to get a list of the names of the officers who regularly patrolled around Seventeenth and Marigold streets. In fact, there were only four officers whose regular routes would find them in this neighborhood. One set of partners were already considers “friends of the Reapers”; they were paid a small sum to look other the way when strange trucks came through the streets late at night.

The other two looked like a Laurel and Hardy pair. One was a fat, middle-aged looking man named Lance Townsend who was well known for his fondness for giving out tickets and avoiding anything serious. Lance had a miserable looking wife who worked at the local library. The other half of the pairing was something else. Olivia Waters, in her ID badge she looked like a little kid, but something in her eyes showed her age. She was tall, five foot seven, and thin. She had a narrow face, and her dark hair was cut into a short pixie cut. David had to admit, something about her looked tough, the expression of the photo he was holding seemed to invite trouble. “
Go ahead, start something. I can take care of myself
,” it said.

She had just come out of the academy, but was young and eager. Of the forty calls dispatch had sent to her area in the last month, she had been the first to respond on thirty-two of them. But when he had checked the logs, all David had found were domestic disputes and robberies where the thief was long gone. The girl, Olivia, hadn’t done any real police work yet, and she might never if they kept her paired with Lance.

But Olivia had no boyfriend that he could find. No husband, no siblings, she was a transplant from Ohio, where most of her family still lived. Ohio was far from God’s Reapers reach, but not too far if it came to that. David held her picture in his hand and wondered how he was going to get to this girl. What would it take to keep her off of his back and away from his warehouse?

That day, in an old Honda the club had, David went looking for cops. He found them quickly enough. It was an early Thursday morning. The heat of the day had not yet set in, and the night’s cool still lingered. There were people out and about, running their errands, hurrying past Lance and Olivia who had their windows down in the squad car. David parked a block away. Wearing a hat and a simple black t-shirt and jeans, he stepped out of his car and onto the sidewalk.

It was morning rush hour at its finest. Cars sat at stoplights, as men in suits and women in dresses rushed to and fro holding coffees in one hand and cell phones in the other. But David took his time as he approached the car. He noted the license plate and the dings and scratches along the back bumper. He wouldn’t have minded getting under the hood of a police car, even David had to admit that when it came to vehicles, the cops knew what they were doing.

As he came upon the car, he glanced over to the side as he passed. He could see Lance Townsend in the driver’s seat, spreading cream cheese over a bagel, his eyes completely focused on the food in front of him. Lance was not someone David thought he would need to worry about. Olivia he couldn’t yet see as he walked past, he only got a glimpse of her elbow and her hand as she reached down to grab her coffee from the cup holder.

He had been thinking about her—about her elfin-shaped face and pixie cut, about the tough expression she wore in her ID picture. He had tried searching for her on social media, but she only had a Facebook account that she kept locked tight. An entire night of sleuthing and he had only managed to see a few other pictures of her. But they were all official pictures: Olivia at graduation in full uniform, her first day on the job, and one where she was lined up with the rest of the new boots, the details of her face barely visible in the grainy picture.

He walked past the cop car and over to a coffee shop where he would have a good view of the two officers. David ordered a coffee and sat at a table outside, opening a newspaper as cover. But still, he couldn’t see much. The sun was glaring off the window, and Olivia had lowered the visor, hiding her face. So as David sipped his coffee, he was forced to stare at Lance as he ate his bagel. He could tell that the two of them were in the mix of a heated debate; he could see Olivia gesturing with her hands and Lance shrugging and rolling his eyes in response. He wondered what they were arguing about.

About ten minutes later, they must have gotten a call, and David watched the car pull out into the street. Seconds later, one of his boys, revved up his bike and followed them at a discrete distance. God’s Reapers knew how to tail. Once the car arrived at its destination, Joey would keep driving and text the address to David. It was classic front and follow, and it almost always worked. 

“
Jewelry store at Tenth and Reed
” came the text. David stood slowly and made his way to his car, driving the distance and parking quickly. He took off his hat and changed into a white shirt before sauntering down the street and into the jewelry store.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is now a bad time?” David asked doing his best impersonation of someone totally surprised to open a door and see two police officers standing there.

“Oh, no, of course not sir. Please come right in. There’s no trouble at all. Maggie will help you with everything you need,” an older gentleman said, gesturing to a red-haired woman who quickly slapped a smile on her face. Olivia and Lance were in a corner, their backs turned to David, and again her face was hidden from him.

“What can I help you with, sir?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, I’m just looking if that’s ok,” David said, flashing her a flirtatious smile. “So, why are the cops here? Were you robbed?” he whispered, glancing back at the officers.

“No, thankfully not, but we think someone might have tried to jimmy the locks last night. Boss needs a full report to give to the insurance company,” Maggie said.

David nodded and began to pretend to look at the diamond and gold baubles stored beneath the glass enclosures. He wanted to tell them that it was probably someone they knew, an ex-employee, definitely an amateur. There were only two kinds of people who robbed jewelry stores, experts and the desperate. Experts knew how to get in and get out quickly, and normally had buyers lined up. Desperate amateurs got caught. David would have never messed with a jewelry store—too many cameras, too much security, and too much risk.

“You should change all of your passwords on your security system and make sure the cameras are working. I would advise checking in on ex-employees or people who used to do business with you and might have fallen on bad times. It’s most likely an ex-employee or someone who knows the building; they were probably hoping all the codes were the same and they could just jimmy the lock, shut down security, and take what they wanted.” Her voice wasn’t what he expected; it was soothing and melodic and confident, and it didn’t hurt that she was right.

When she spoke, the sound of her voice compelled David to look up at her, and he finally got the view of her face he had been searching for. She was, in person, far more beautiful than her ID badge had led David to believe. She was tall and thin, but strong looking with both of her hands resting on her hips. Her hair had grown out—it was still a pixie cut, but she had grown bangs and the ends and it framed her angular face perfectly. Her eyes were dark with heavy lashes framing them. She was scanning the room, and when she looked at David, it took all of his energy to not immediately look away. Her eyes seemed to bore into him until they had seen everything they needed before moving on.

Lance stared at the watches in the case while Olivia filled out the report. She was thorough and smart, not only asking the required questions but thoughtful follow-up questions as well. She gave good advice to the store’s owner. The girl was no fool—that much was obvious. Lance left while Olivia was still talking to the owner. It didn’t take long for the heat to flare up in Marina’s Crest. As David walked out into the sunlight, he put his sunglasses on and debated on the proper course to take with Olivia Waters. She didn’t seem like the type of person who would take a bribe or be easy to intimidate. He needed to think; there had to be another way to deal with her. David just had to figure out what that was; his brothers were depending on him.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Certainly spent enough time in that jewelry store considering nothing happened,” Lance said, as he settled into the driver’s seat of the cruiser.

“Someone tried to break into their store last night. How is that nothing?” Olivia demanded.

“Tried to. Tried and failed. Locks are meant to keep people out; the locks worked. No harm no foul,” Lance grumbled. Olivia just shook her head at him. She was getting tired of dealing with Lance, of arguing with him. Her only hope was that the brass would see the work she was putting in and pair her with a better partner. Her nightmare was that the brass was sticking her with Lance permanently because he would never actually do anything if she weren’t there.

They drove up and down the streets of Marina’s crest, but it was the middle of a Thursday afternoon and not much was going on. There were a few people walking up and down the streets, shopping around, but no trouble was brewing.

“Let’s go up Marigold,” Olivia said. She was tired of watching the same stores fly past her window. She knew that Lance only had eyes for the clock. “You know, keeping busy helps the time pass faster.”

“Except we’re cops, so keeping busy involves actively putting ourselves in danger. I would rather the time pass slower.”

“Come on, one trip up Marigold. It is part of our route; we’re supposed to check on it. Besides, if people see cop cars regularly, then they know we’re in the neighborhood, and it encourages them to behave.”

“It encourages them to post a look out. Evil deeds still occur; it’s just that they happen in places we can’t see.” Despite his argument, when the turn for Marigold came up, Lance sighed, turned on his blinker, and drove north, leaving the well-kept downtown streets behind them.

Middle of the day or not, there were still a lot of people on Marigold Street just hanging out. Kids who were probably technically still teenagers smoked on porches and watched the cop car intently as it passed, their necks craning to watch the car as long as they could. There was a palpable sense of unease in the air. Downtown nobody batted an eyelash when a cop passed, but here, everyone stood up and took notice. Few of the faces were friendly. Most people glared or shook their heads at the car, some flipped them the bird after they had passed. Olivia saw them, but knew it wasn’t worth the fight.

“Reapers,” Lance said under his breath, as they turned a corner and saw four guys on bikes stopped at in intersection, talking to each other. One of the bikers saw the car and revved his engine, the rest followed suit, and they quickly drove in the opposite direction. It was like that on Marigold Street. Cops were the enemy, and people walked the other way when an officer came to town. It made Olivia sad to see this; she wanted people to trust her and to know her, but she doubted she would make much headway.

“No! Stop it!” It was the sound of a woman screaming. Before Lance could blink, Olivia had grabbed the handset.

“Dispatch, this is Sierra Five. We are at Twelfth and Marigold.  Can hear a fight in the area, going to investigate. No need for backup. Go ahead.”

“Copy Sierra Five, there are two other cruisers in the area if backup is needed. Go ahead.”

“Copy, dispatch.”

Olivia didn’t even bother to look at Lance. She checked her gear and then jumped out the car, putting her sunglasses on to block the bright sun that was almost exactly overhead.

“Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything! I said leave him alone!” The voice was a mix of anger and fear—with maybe just a bit more anger. Olivia could hear Lance getting out of the car behind her, hurrying to catch up. The fight was happening down a small alleyway, and Olivia pressed her back against a wall and peered around the corner.

There were two motorcycles resting on their kickstands. They were black and shone brightly in the sunlight. Past the motorcycles were four people. One was the shouting woman who was standing in a doorway that lead to a kitchen. A man stood in front of her; he wasn’t exactly cowering before the bikers, but he didn’t look particularly brave either. She wore an apron, and her hair was piled up on top of her head. The man was also wearing an apron, his covered in grease stains. The two bikers were each tall and muscular, and they were wearing matching vests with the God’s Reaper's image on the back. Olivia had to admit, she had been fascinated with the Reaper’s insignia since the first time she had seen it. It was a stark white skull with the image of a bleeding rose burned into the skull's forehead and a snake slithering out the open mouth.

She was staring with fascination at the insignia and was taken by surprise when Lance grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards the squad car.

“No. No, Olivia. I’ve let you have your fun. But I am not fucking with God’s Reapers, that’s how cops get killed. No.”

“Have my fun?” Olivia said, wrenching her arm free from Lance’s grasp. “Is that what you think? That I’m doing this because it’s fun? Like I’m some pathetic thrill seeker? I’m doing this because it’s my job, a job I eagerly signed up for because I wanted to do it. Protect and serve, that’s what we are supposed to do. And I’m sick of your attitude, your laziness and apathy. You don’t get paid to avoid confrontation. Your job is to break up fights and deal with stuff like this; it’s literally the reason we’re out here. And for someone so terrified of dying, you think you would eat a little bit healthier. At the rate you’re going, you’re gonna die of a heart attack at forty-five.” With that Olivia whirled away from him and marched back down the alley towards the fight.

“Police!” she shouted. “How about everyone calms down?” She didn’t draw her gun, but her hand was resting next to it, ready to pull it out if any real trouble started.

The four people all blanched at Olivia’s approach. The woman’s face paled, and she drew back into her kitchen while the man gave her a thankful nod. The bikers, however, both turned to face her, their arms crossed. They looked at Olivia and then back at each other, sharing a knowing smirk. They were both well tanned, but one had darker hair and was stockier; he seemed to be in charge.

“Is there some trouble, officer?” one of them asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

“We could hear the sounds of a fight. Thought we’d come over and make sure everyone was ok,” Olivia said.

“We?” the stocky biker asked. “I only see you.”

“My partner’s in the car notifying dispatch,” Olivia said quickly and confidently, not bothering to turn around to confirm what she said. “So why doesn’t someone tell me what’s going on here?”

“It’s nothing officer. We were just talking with our friend, Sal, here,” the biker said, gesturing for him to come closer. The nervous-looking cook took a few steps until he was close enough for the biker to throw his arm over the Sal’s shoulder in a gross approximation of friendship. “Right, Sal? Why don’t you tell the cop that everything’s great, huh?”

“Yes, thank you for coming officer, but it was just a simple misunderstanding,” Sal stuttered. Olivia stared at the man, waiting for some signal or sign. But he just stood there, weighed down by the heavy arm of the biker.

“Well then,” Olivia said after a moment. “Let’s consider the misunderstanding over, and everyone can be on their way.”

The stocky biker dropped his arm from Sal’s shoulder and slowly began to walk to Olivia; the other biker followed. “You know, your partner’s been making that call to dispatch for a while now,” the biker said. He was close now, right in front of Olivia. She could smell cigarette smoke and gasoline on him; she could see a rip in his vest and small scar over his left eye.

“What’s your name, sir?” Olivia asked.

“Everybody calls me Tony, Officer Waters,” the man said taking a long moment to look at her nametag. “You new in town?” he asked.

“I am new. But I like it here. Don’t intend to go anywhere,” Olivia answered, staring at the man, her face remaining blank and expressionless.

“Well, welcome to Marina’s Crest, officer. Word of advice: don’t poke the bear. Don’t go looking for trouble in this town; you won’t like what you find. Terrible things can happen to pretty girls in Marina’s Crest. You’re a cop; check the records.” He walked away from her towards his bike. He straddled it and said, “I’m being friendly here, Waters. I’m doing you a favor and giving you this warning. You should take it; God’s Reapers don’t give too many.” Their bikes revved loudly to life as the two men took off, leaving Olivia standing alone in a back alley.