“Head towards my apartment. It’s only a few blocks away.” Like he’d not been to her apartment many times.
They found a suitable spot around 8:30, on a cross street with a clear view of the apartment building in question. People actually lived there? Peeling paint, numerous broken windows. He’d have thought the place abandoned if Rett hadn’t sworn people lived there, and light showed from a few windows.
Four young wannabe thugs with shifty eyes came out the front fifteen minutes before nine, trailed by a few young men and seven young women, one heavily pregnant. She couldn’t be more than about five feet tall, and would be skin and bones without the protruding belly.
The four toughs milled around, trying to look intimidating. Cat Lucky beat them for badassery while asleep. Rett shouting, “Boo!” would likely send them running. He’d loved to have witnessed her putting them in their place when they’d cat-called her.
The bus pulled up a few minutes later. The girls, or young women, rather, shuffled forward, eyes on the ground, and one by one climbed into the bus. The downtrodden men followed, but the toughs went into the apartment complex.
Guards. And where there were guards, there was something needing guarding.
Lucky waited a few moments to follow, since Rett already knew the bus route.
When they arrived at a warehouse, a gate slid open, letting the bus inside, and then closing again behind it. Two armed guards at the gates, another two patrolling the grounds.
Eight people exited the bus, and returned lugging boxes.
“That’s new,” Johnson murmured.
And intriguing. The whole deal might be legitimate, but Lucky’s senses told him otherwise.
Like the apartment complex, the warehouse appeared deserted. Lucky waited, clock ticking away the minutes. Every now and then he spotted movement and brought binoculars up to study the guards’ passing.
At ten p.m. the gate slowly slid open. A van arrived. The driver waved to the guards and drove to the loading dock. Bits and pieces of Spanish tickled Lucky’s ear. Ah, hell, he should’ve brought Bo. But no, Bo ranked up there with the top brass now, and might object to Lucky and Rett doing a little extra-curricular snooping.
The van obscured the loading docks, but the banging inside spoke of cargo.
After roughly a half hour, the van left. Lucky followed at a safe distance, back to the apartment building. The van pulled to the rear, and the back doors opened. Two men stepped out, their furtive glances giving away ill intent.
The way they favored their right sides probably meant a gun under their shirts.
The toughs from earlier darted out the back door of the apartment complex. Each grabbed a few cartons and lugged them into the building. What he wouldn’t give to find out what the unmarked cardboard boxes contained. The van left. After a short while one of the men reappeared outside, pulling a wheeled suitcase, and got into an older model Chevy.
Lucky texted Bo. “Gonna be late. You’ll have to keep the rookies occupied tomorrow until I get there. Something’s come up.”
“Since Rett’s with you, you can’t get in too much trouble. Be careful.”Bo ended the message with a heart emoji.
Romantic sap. Lucky registered his lips curling in time to stop their upward ascent. Okay, maybe Bo wasn’t the only romantic sap. He quickly sent a heart of his own and yanked his phone away before Johnson’s leaning his way finally gave her a view of the screen.
He glowered.
She grinned. “Big, bad Lucky’s in luuuuurrrrve.”
Folks said Ty resembled Lucky, but in that moment, Lucky channeled his nephew and rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of my love life and back on the case, why don’t you?”
Johnson saluted. “Yes, sir!”
At the risk of repeating himself, he affected another eyeroll and nodded toward the Chevy. “I can’t believe you’re the only one to notice something weird going on.” Of course, most people turned a blind eye and refused to get involved, no matter how blatant the crime. Nothing subtle about these asshats. If the warehouse was going to deliver drugs to the apartment, why not send cases home with the workers?
To keep others from noticing? To keep the workers from noticing? Because the ones calling the shots had their heads up their asses?
He followed the car.
Straight to a doctor’s office. What the hell? Who’d be taking deliveries at this hour?
The back door opened.
Shit. Looked like they had themselves a case.
