“Thanks.” Maggie flashed the man a loving smile.
With a click of a button, the large screen permanently mounted on the wall behind her lit up. Filling most of the white space was the mugshot of the man who’d attacked Poppy in her apartment less than twenty-four-hours prior.
“This is Paul Wheatley.” She looked to Jax and Poppy. “I’m sure you both recognize him.”
“Dec already told us you’d identified him,” he let her know. “But I’m assuming since we’ve been summoned here that there’s more to the story.”
“Much more.” Maggie nodded. “During my initial external exam, I discovered this on Mr. Wheatley’s back.” She clicked another button and a different image appeared.
One of Wheatley shirtless and lying on his stomach.
Poppy frowned as she studied the macabre image. “Is that a crow?”
Ah, hell.
“It’s a raven,” Jax muttered beside her.
His chest tightened as he stared at the familiar markings.
Square in the middle of Wheatley’s shoulder blades was a very realistic-looking human skull. Sitting on top with its wings stretched wide was a raven. Each detailed feather visible thanks to the artist’s keen eye and ability to properly outline and shade.
Centered below the skull was a ribbon-type banner with the wordFidesscripted inside it in all caps. Jax ran a hand over his jaw as he thought about the gravity of what that tattoo meant.
“What is it?” Poppy looked to him for answers. “What does that mean?”
Too late to school his expression, he told her the truth. “Fides is Latin for ‘loyalty’. And that tattoo”—he pointed toward the screen—“is what every man who serves the Mons Leones crime syndicate gets upon initiation.”
He didn’t tell her what those men had to do in order togetinitiated. She had enough nightmares to deal with.
“Crime syndicate,” Poppy repeated his words slowly. “You mean like a gang?”
“More like an empire.”
An evil, deadly empire that was willing to do whatever it took to protect itself. For them, killing someone like Poppy would be an honor. Especially for the newbies.
“Declan said Wheatley’s only been in town a couple of weeks,” Jax looked to Noah. “I’m assuming he’s a transplant?”
“He is,” Noah confirmed.
Taking the lead once more, Maggie went on to explain, “When I found the tattoo, I took a picture and scanned it into N.M.I.S, or the National Markings Identifying System.” For Poppy’s benefit, she added, “Basically, we can scan an image into the program, and it will search for a match. Over a million images—tattoos and otherwise—have been uploaded into the system’s database over the years.”
Poppy looked at the tattoo again. “I take it you got a match?”
“Almost immediately.” Maggie nodded. “It also came with a red flag, which means that particular marking was connected to an ongoing Federal investigation. Turns out, it’s one Noah and Wade’s unit has been working for quite some time.”
“Maggie called and brought me up to speed.” Noah looked at Jax. “Since this involves you two, I thought you should know what you’re up against.”
Jax knew exactly what he was up against, and it scared the shit out of him. Not for himself, but for…
Poppy.
He looked over at her, hating that with his next breath Noah was going to reveal the epic shitstorm about to come down all around her.
“The organization Jax referred to as the Mons Leones. It stands for Mountain Lions,” Noah explained.
Piggybacking off of that, Wade added, “The Mons Leones is a mafia group based here in Denver, although their reach goes far beyond our city’s borders.”
“I’m familiar with their work.” Jax shifted in his seat.