Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Possibly. But from what I understand, the Demons know which businesses in Shadow Valley are owned by the Angels. Would think they’d steer clear of them to avoid givin’ the DAMC a heads up that they’ve been in the area.”
That was a valid assumption. “They could simply come into town not wearing their colors.”
“It’s not only colors that identify bikers, Nova.”
“I’m aware. It could be tats and even their Harleys.”
“Yep.”
She nodded and considered everything just discussed. “Okay, I’ll work the pawn shop. At least I won’t have to rely on the fucking piece of shit Crew assigned me to get back and forth to my place of employment.”
“Nope. Just gotta head down the steps.”
She stifled another yawn. “What else?”
“Every time you leave this apartment, make sure to wear that cut. You don’t gotta wear it while workin’ since I don’t think most of them do. The citizens of Shadow Valley are aware of what businesses the club owns but the DAMC doesn’t purposely shove it in their face.”
“That way they can pretend a motorcycle club doesn’t own the businesses they like to patronize,” she summarized.
“Actually, from what Jamison and Cross said, most of the townsfolk don’t mind the MC. Now, anyway. How it was back in the seventies and eighties, I don’t know.”
“Former one-percenters?”
“Oh yeah. Once they started losin’ too many members, either by death or by incarceration, they began to straighten up. If their numbers woulda gotten too low, they woulda lost this territory to a rival MC.”
Interesting. “Not the Demons?”
“No, an outlaw nomad club tryin’ to lay down some roots. They just picked the wrong town to do it in. And once the conflict started, it didn’t end for decades.”
Damn. She couldn’t imagine the local PD and even the local citizens were okay with that. “How did it end?”
Fletch simply shot her a look.
“I guess badly.”
“From what I know, some of the Shadow Warriors ended up behind bars. The rest, we can only assume six feet under.” He took a deep, audible inhale and continued, “And that leads me to what I’m ‘bout to tell you next in case you ain’t already aware… The DAMC sergeant at arms owns a ‘security’ business called In the Shadows Security. It started out like any typical security business. Puttin’ in security systems, providin’ bouncers to local bars and private events, normal shit like that. Then he began hirin’ mercenaries.”
Nova’s eyebrows knitted together and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. “Mercenaries?”
“That’s what I’m calling them. Former special forces, including a Navy SEAL sniper. After that, the business started to change. Doin’ some bodyguard work, private investigations, even illegal wiretappin’. Surveillance. You name it, for the right price, they might do it. And they’re experts at it. Not only doin’ the questionable shit they do, but not gettin’ caught doin’ it.” He swallowed another mouthful of beer.
“Is that what happened to that rival MC?”
As he held the bottle in his hand, he mindlessly picked at the label with his thumbnail. “We think so. They do jobs other people won’t touch and they demand a pretty penny to get it done.”
“And none of them have gotten caught for stepping over the line?” She found that hard to believe.
“No. Like I said, they’re fuckin’ good. Trust me, when I say good, I mean fuckin’ brilliant and spotless.”
“But you’re aware of who they are and what they do.”
“Nothin’ we can prove. My organization has tried and so have some others. They’re nicknamed Shadows for a reason.”
“And you’re telling me this, why?”
“Just wanted you to be aware of their connection with the DAMC. They also live in the club’s compound.”
“Compound?” Jesus, the DAMC was a more complex organization than she realized.
“Yeah. With all the run-ins with the Warriors, the rival MC, they started buildin’ a very secure and gated neighborhood for them to live in.”
“All of the bikers live in this compound?”
“No, not all, but most of them with families. To help protect them, they keep them all in a central location to make it easier to stomp out any threat.”
The club wasn’t fucking around when it came to their families’ safety. “Got it.”
“Wanted you to be up to speed in case you cross paths with any of them. Might end up interactin’ with them in one way or another. All the ol’ ladies know who they are, you should, too.” He finished off his beer, then said, “Surprised the FBI hasn’t investigated any of those fuckers. Can’t imagine they’ve never been on the feds radar.”
She shrugged. “I’m not privy to all of the past and ongoing investigations. I stick to organized crime.”
He huffed out a breath. “Well, these fuckin’ guys are organized and they commit crimes.”
“Allegedly.”
A slow smile crossed Fletch’s face. “Right. Allegedly.”
“Should we be looking for proof while we’re dealing with the Demons? Does the state police have an open investigation on any of them?”