“Let’s not trust anyone on this,” I decide. “There’s been too much cloak and dagger bullshit as it is. No one should be buying anonymously from your father. It’s more difficult to solidify proper business relationships and loyalty this way, and then if things go wrong, harder to put a stop to things.”
I may not be going to school to become book smart, but I know our businesses like the back of my hand. Alaric, Jamie, and I are our fathers’ heirs, and our dads didn’t raise numbskulls.
“Ralph’s favorite haunts appear to be the docks and the warehouse district, and Eddy doesn’t have any business there currently. As his second in command, there’s no fucking reason for Ralph to be there,” Jamie grumbles, checking his phone.
“What time is the drop, and is this a fact finding mission or are we shutting it down tonight?” Alaric asks, allowing us to take point.
Great leaders are willing to delegate, and Alaric knows how to do that.
“In two hours,” I murmur, checking my computer again. “Ralph seems to be all over town again. I have glimpses of him recorded at lunch with some guys I don’t recognize, and then he went into a meeting at a club. It was five in the afternoon. What the fuck is he doing at a strip club? Is he that hard up?”
It’s not a secret that a lot of nefarious deals happen at strip clubs. If he’s not getting his rocks off, then he’s up to something.
“Let’s go by the house and change,” Alaric says. “It might be a late night, so we’ll pick up takeout on the way.”
We’ve been working outside today as we’ve been checking out leads. I’m starving. If we’re going to be playing Sherlock Holmes tonight, I need some grub.
Leaving the alley, we walk to our car and get in. The takeout doesn’t take long to pick up, and we eat at home before getting ready.
“Gear up!” Alaric shouts from downstairs to get us to hurry. I swear…
“Yes, Daddy!” I yell back, sliding my gun into my ankle holster.
I’m wearing black cargo pants with lots of pockets, my favorite combat boots in case I get blood on them, and a black long sleeved shirt that is well fitting. Now, I’m hiding my guns and knives where I can easily reach for them.
This is a fact finding mission to both endear us to Beckham’s father, as well as figure out the mystery that’s been plaguing our omega. Both things can be true at the same time, and I really hope whatever we find out tonight will help ease Beckham’s mind.
The man needs to sleep better.
“Jamie, we gotta roll!” I call out. He’s in the closet grabbing his favorite weapons from the gun vault, and pops his head back out.
“Ready. Let me just shut this up tight,” he says. I can hear the moment it closes because it’s not quiet, and then he’s walking out with me.
Alaric already has his car keys in his hand, and a dark hoodie is shadowing his face. He looks really fucking dangerous and hot.
“I don’t want anyone to see us,” he explains.
Nodding, we pull on our own nondescript hoodies and then we’re out the door.
Alaric drives in silence to the drop, and makes sure to park in an alley not far from the warehouse. We can run if necessary, and I can put a tracker on the vehicles sitting outside of the warehouse.
Moving quickly, we find an open door and slip inside, hidden amongst the boxes on the far side of the room so no one can seeus. We’re a couple of minutes early, but I can see Arlo with the merchandise along with some of our guys.
“We’ve got shit to do after this, people,” he calls out. “Let’s make sure there aren’t any issues.”
No one wants trouble with a drug drop, so this is pretty standard.
A knock on the steel door has Arlo crossing the warehouse and pushing the door open slowly.
“Good. Let’s do this, shall we?” he asks, allowing a few people inside.
Alaric makes a face as the light hits Ralph’s face, and I take a photo of the people entering the warehouse. I’m going to need a lot of evidence in order to show Eddy that his right hand man has flipped allegiances.
I noticed how loud Eddy got while defending Ralph. Shrugging, I decide to record whatever conversation happens during this drop as well. There’s no such thing as overkill when it comes to gathering evidence.
“Thanks for getting this shipment together so quickly,” Ralph rasps.
The fucker is trying to conceal his identity. Idiot. Switching to video, I smirk as his guilt is recorded in technicolor for his boss to see.
