Mistake. Big fucking mistake. “Whenever she’d like to go home. I’ll drop off a key to her in a bit. Just shoot me a text when you’re on your way.”
“Can do,” said Hank, then gestured to the room. “Get this solved. Nice and quick.”
“Yes, sir.” Rhett’s gaze followed Hank as he headed back to his large corner office in the station, then Rhett entered the command center, finding Boone grinning at him. “What?”
“I used to shake in my boots whenever he would tell me he’d wait for me to get home,” Boone answered.
Rhett snorted, taking a seat at the meeting room table, not indulging the conversation. He didn’t shake in his boots. He’d made his mess and was prepared to clean it up. He took his cell phone out from his pocket and placed it on the table, noting the large computer screen that was attached to Boone’s laptop set up next to the white board. “Get anything from the security footage?”
“Haven’t had a chance to look yet.” Boone hit a button on his keyboard to wake up the monitor screen.
“If you hoped the town didn’t get wind of this, I come bearing bad news,” Asher said, entering the room carrying a tray of coffees. “Ms. Abbott just stopped me in the street and already knew about the break-in.”
Mary Jane Abbott was a meddling, nosy woman who
created more problems with her gossip than not. “Let’s get a look at the footage,” Rhett said, keeping the focus where it needed to stay.
Boone clicked on a few things on his laptop. Before long, the security footage flickered to life on the monitor. When Kinsley had purchased the bar, Rhett and Asher both helped Boone install the security equipment. Rhett snagged his black coffee from the tray, muttering a quick thanks as Boone fast-forwarded through the timestamped video. The hours of the day went by rapidly, showing Kinsley working the bar and then her employee, Benji, coming in. They saw the Red Dragons coming into the bar, Dalton grabbing Kinsley, and Rhett pulling the gun on him. Then the Red Dragons leaving. From there on, nothing appeared out of the ordinary, until early in the morning. The timestamp read 2:17 a.m. when a group of five men, all wearing plain black clothes and ski masks covering their faces, appeared at the back door of her bar.
“How many Red Dragons were at the bar last night?” Boone asked.
“Three.” Rhett’s eyes narrowed on the man that picked the lock. The security cameras didn’t detect sound, but in seconds, they’d gained entry. “They either had the skill to disable her security system, or one of her employees gave away the code.”
“I vet any employee she hires,” Boone said. “Unless all of a sudden they have gotten into crime, it’s highly unlikely this is an inside job.”
“Let’s check them out again.” Rhett didn’t want to miss anything. He rose with his coffee in hand and settled near the screen, careful not to block the way. “I’m not seeing their leathers.” Red Dragons never took the pride of their club’s name off their bodies, and they never feared the police. “Am I missing it?”
“No,” Asher said, sidling up to Rhett, eyes narrowed on the screen. “This doesn’t look like the Red Dragons.”
Their arrogance was their signature move. They thought they were untouchable, above the law. If they wanted to make a threat, they’d stand behind that threat, not fear the repercussions. Rhett sipped his coffee to control the fury sliding through his veins as the group began smashing the bar to pieces. Every chair gone, every table destroyed, every bottle of booze in shards on the ground. For Kinsley, Rhett would make whoever was behind this pay. The tension in the room shifted, becoming thick and filled with the fury to protect one of theirs. Rhett’s chest tightened as one of the men took a switch blade from his pocket and settled in front of the bar. Rhett watched every second of the man carving those words into the wood.
Once finished, the man glanced up, looked right at the camera, then made the gesture of cutting his neck with his knife.
“Fucker,” Rhett growled. Boone froze the video on the man, zooming in on his eyes. The lack of light in the bar made making out shape or color impossible beneath the ski mask. Not getting any further by examining the footage, Rhett returned to his seat next to Asher. “He knew exactly where the camera was.”
“It’s gotta be King,” Asher offered, taking the lid off his coffee cup, steam spiraling out.
“But the question begs to be asked, why target Kinsley’s bar?” Rhett asked. “What could that possibly serve King?”
Silence was met with hard frowns. As a trio, they had a perfect record solving cases. No one liked not having an answer, and in most cases, that usually meant trouble was on the horizon.
Rhett took another quick sip of his piping hot coffee, tasting the hazelnuts in the flavor, before he studied the man on the monitor again. He took in every single detail of the man, the way he stood and his mannerisms, imprinting them in his mind. “All of these men are fit and well built; they don’t look like a motorcycle gang.” Some in the Red Dragons had that description, like Dalton, but most of the men in the club didn’t spend hours in the gym to keep in top shape. “These men look like soldiers or special ops.”
Boone frowned.
“King’s men are retired Navy SEALs and Army Rangers,” Asher pointed out, obviously already convinced. “They fit the description.”
Rhett wasn’t so easily swayed. “But it still doesn’t explain why King would do this to Kinsley’s bar. He’s been quiet for months since Remy’s troubles with him. It doesn’t add up. Besides, he’d come after us, or Remy.” He saw the flare in Asher’s gaze but went on, “Logically, that’s what make sense here. This, destroying Kinsley’s bar, someone either wants her to shut down or they’re sending us a warning.”
Heavier silence descended on the room. No one liked being in the dark, especially when it involved someone in their inner circle.
Boone finally rose and pushed his chair back under the table, frustration etched in his face. “We’re not going to get any answers from the footage. I’ll give the chief a report on this and get in touch with Whitby Falls to see if they’ve had any similar vandalisms.” He unplugged his laptop then reached for his coffee. “Perhaps we’ve got a new gang in town and they’re just making their presence known.”
That felt wrong to Rhett, but he kept the thought to himself. “I’ll check out Kinsley’s employees again and see where that takes me.”
“Can’t hurt to have another look,” Boone said.
Asher rose. “I’ll contact the surveillance team trailing King.” Surveillance on the crime lord never stopped. A team in Whitby Falls was dedicated to taking King down and had kept eyes on him ever since he’d stepped into his father’s footsteps. “Maybe he’s got some new men on his payroll. If he does, I’ll see if I can get some photographs.”