“Fuck,” Reaper roared, then yelled. “This club has been feeding his need for years, and nobody thought any differently. Is that what you’re saying?”
When Phantom nodded, Reaper cursed loudly, throwing his chair across the room. “Son of a bitch!”
“That’s my belief. Every woman that was murdered was no older than twenty, slim, with light blonde hair and fair skin.”
“Ari,” Massacre whispered.
“Yep. The bastard has a type.”
“Where is he?” I asked. I was itching to kill someone, and though he was a former brother, I would gladly put a bullet in his head.
“No clue,” Phantom replied. “Matrix and Sypher have him geo-tagged, so if he ever shows his face, we’ll know his exact location.”
“And Jekyll?” I asked.
“Now, that bastard is a piece of work. Aaron Davis Chapman, born August 11, 1980, in Chattanooga, Tennessee, to Roger and Maybelle Chapman. Chapman has been in and out of jail since he was sixteen. In the beginning, it was petty shit, like, animal slaughter, cockfighting, dog rings, B&E, and Grand Theft. When he turned eighteen, he prospected for the Black Vultures, working his way up in the club. Since joining, Chapman has done several stints for rape and assault and some drug charges. However, he hit the big time when he killed a prostitute in a fit of rage. That cost him twenty-five to life in Folsom but was released early because of good behavior.”
“Good behavior, my ass,” I muttered.
“Exactly, when I dug deeper, it was discovered that the warden was a cousin to the club President, Vain. It took some doing, but they were able to buy his way out of jail. Now, shortly after he was released, I found several restraining orders placed against him. Most were from women in the surrounding area, but one, in particular, stood out. Your mother, Donna, had a restraining order out against him, Bullseye.”
Yeah, I remembered that day when she found out he was being released. I’d never seen my mother so scared.
“Anything else?” Reaper asked.
“Only that for the last five years, the Black Vultures have been running drugs and guns and working in conjunction with the Collector trafficking women. Thanks to Matrix and Sypher, we’ve been able to keep track of all the suspected players that work or subcontract with the Collector. Though Sypher still has reason to believe that Sabastian Capri is the Collector, he hasn’t surfaced in a while, so he can’t verify it. Also, Samuel Patterson was in the news again. Poor bastard was killed in a head-on car crash when his breaks went out last weekend in upstate Washington.
“The Disciples of the Word are still in business, though. I am just waiting to see who the new leader will be. Also, Jeffery Darden is back on the radar. Apparently, that asshole has decided to run for the state senate in Virginia.”
“That’s all we need is another weasel in office.” Chaos whispered, and I couldn’t agree more. These fuckers were like cockroaches. As soon as we got rid of one, five more would take their place.
“I was going to wait to bring this up, but times of the essence. There’s chatter on the dark web of another big buy coming up. According to the write-up, we’re talking about kids and women Reaper. The sale is in a few weeks.”
Reaper sighed. “Where?”
“Flordia.”
“Keep me posted and call the Chapter down in Miami and let Toxic know. Send him what you can and tell him I will be sending some help. Vicious, Bayou, Hammer, you boys head to Flordia.”
“Sure thing, Boss.”
“You can leave in the morning. Phantom set it up,” Reaper ordered. “Bullseye, you up for another assignment?”
“Yeah, no problem.” I grinned, eager to get back to work.
“I know you generally work alone, but not this time. I’m assigning Massacre, Savage, and Chains to go with you.”
Savage and Chains smiled. “Party time.”
Sighing, Reaper growled then pointed at them both. “Not party time. If you two fuckers get into trouble again, your ass is grass. You hear me?”
“Sure, boss,” both men said in unison as Massacre and I just shook our heads. Those two idiots were famous for finding trouble in the middle of a padded room. They couldn’t be trusted together, ever.
“All right, anything else?” Reaper asked.
“What about Ghost?” Shadow asked, slipping back into the room. He was concerned. We all were, but Shadow was his brother, real brother, and since Ari, he’d been taking care of Becca, Ghost’s daughter. Shadow didn’t mind one bit, but we all knew it wasn’t him that Becca really needed. She wanted her daddy.
Reaper sighed. Yeah, Ghost was a touchy subject. No one really liked talking about him, but he was still one of us, and we all cared about him. “He’s still the same.”