Whispered Truths (God's Reapers MC Book 2) (2 page)

CHAPTER THREE

“Rick’s coming back to town at ten tonight. He’s going to cut through the northern edge of town and go to the safe house we have up there,” Mike said, as he smoked a cigarette in the cabin out in the desert. Everything was dark; there was only one light bulb hanging in the kitchen. The night outside was dark and cool, but mostly it was silent. They were so far out of town that few cars had a reason to pass.

Rick had gone down south to meet with their suppliers who were furious about the raid by the cops. There was nothing Rick could do, other than tell them that it was the cost of doing business. As a known leader of God’s Reapers, he was still wanted by the cops though, so his movements needed to be carefully coordinated so he wasn’t arrested.

David nodded at Mike’s words. His entire face was swollen, and large purple bruises had formed over his nose and under his eyes. There was a painful cut on the inside of his cheek. He had taken a Vicodin someone had on hand and that had helped a little, but it was starting to wear off. The pain was coming back, sharp stabbing pains from the still open wounds and deep, throbbing pain from the bruises and broken bones.

He liked the pain though. David had messed up so monumentally that he wasn’t sure if he would ever truly recover. He had let down the only people in the world he cared about. He had gotten cocky and made a mistake so huge that almost everyone he knew was in jail. It was all David’s fault. He deserved the punishment, and he deserved the pain. There should have been more pain and more punishment; he should have lost a limb or been driven into the desert to die. He didn’t deserve to be alive or to be a free man. He deserved pain and punishment.

The pain was bad, but the shunning was worse. The men glared and mumbled threats when he entered a room. When he sat down at a table, they would all get up and leave. When coffee was poured or food distributed, he found himself empty-handed. He had worked his way up the ladder of God’s Reapers; he had struggled and fought and worked himself almost to death to get a top spot. Now, he had lost it. Now, he was back at the bottom—a nobody with less than zero respect.

David had told Mike that he would do anything to make up for his mistake, anything. He had been terrified that Mike was going to ask him to kill Olivia, terrified that he might actually be faced with that decision. However, instead, Mike had asked him to make sure Rick got to the safe house without any interference.

It was twilight when David left the house. The setting desert sun painted the horizon with long strokes of red and yellow and gold. Above him, darkness was falling and a few cold white stars were visible. The urge to drive had never been stronger.
You can go
, a voice in his head whispered.
You can leave all of this behind. If you stay, you’ll spend your whole life as a second-class biker with God’s Reapers. You’ll always be the one who got all those club members sent to jail. You’ll never recover and they’ll never forget.

And then there was Olivia Waters. The beautiful, confident, sexy Olivia Waters who, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about.
Was she at The Gray Lamp right now, letting some guy buy her a drink? Was she going home with him right now? Had she thought of me at all?

Not that it mattered, he’d ruined any chance of seeing Olivia again when he had gone to her apartment, snuck up on her there, and pushed her against the wall. She would never forgive him for that. He was surprised that there was no warrant out for his arrest on that act alone. At the moment, he was still safe. He would have heard about it from one of their connections in the police department if there was a warrant. He wondered why Olivia hadn’t told anyone. Was she embarrassed about their one-night stand, or was she embarrassed about how easily he had snuck up on her? Maybe it was because she didn’t want to be seen as joke in the department. David had no idea where she was or what she was thinking or doing. He had tried to hate her and tried to forget her, but nothing had worked.

David straddled his bike and revved the engine. His bike was so loud in the silent desert that it was almost obscene. He rode west, following an old, rarely used road. He drove for almost an hour before arriving at the destination. Once there, he waited. He knew that Rick would be traveling low key in a red Ford truck. Now, he just had to wait for the car to appear.

As he waited, his mind couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he ran into Olivia Waters. Would he pull out the pistol from its holster under his arm and shoot her? He could easily imagine it. She would step out of her cruiser; her face would show surprise as she saw him and then anger and then she would vault backwards when the bullet from his gun struck her.

No, he couldn’t even imagine it. He couldn’t imagine shooting her; he couldn't imagine standing over her lifeless body knowing that he had done it. She wasn't a bad person. She was a good person and a good cop, killing her would be wrong. But if he needed to do it, if push really came to shove, if it was him or her, what would he do?

A set of headlights appeared in the distance, as it got closer he saw that it was a red Ford, with Rick behind the wheel. He started his bike and pulled out in front of the truck. He was the advanced guard, if the cops or someone else appeared, it was David’s job to lead them away and to take the fall instead of Rick. He was happy to do it; he would have thrown himself under a truck if it would save Rick.

David led them around the city, taking the long route and only entering the city proper when he finally had to. He was jittery with nerves, and he kept seeing police lights in the corner of his eye. But he made the run with no issues. The truck stopped at a safe house, pulled around back, and parked in the large garage tucked away in the back of the property. David waited outside; he stood on the front steps of the house and surveyed the street, watching to make sure that no police cars were around. But the night stayed quiet and no one came.

“I know that this is hard for you, David,” Rick said, coming out the front door and standing next to David on the rocky front lawn. “You could have ratted me out back there.”

“What?” David asked, turning to Rick, squinting through the darkness and trying to see the other man’s face.

“That fight with Sweetie outside the warehouse was dumb. I don’t think it brought the cops down on us, but thanks for not mentioning it to the others.” David nodded. In truth, it hadn’t occurred to him to tell anyone. Being a rat had never been his nature.

David nodded, but for the first time he wondered if it was worth it. All the drugs, all the illegal activity, it had no end. David would always have to be looking over his shoulder, both for the cops and revenge by his own brothers. There was no one looking out for him anymore. He was alone, and it seemed he always would be.

“You and me, David, we’ll see the club through this. It will get better.” David nodded, but in his heart he didn’t agree. He couldn't say where it came from, but he had the feeling this was only the beginning, that things could still get a lot worse.

The silence of the night was broken by a sound. It sounded like a sob coming from a woman. David turned and faced the house, and then he looked at Rick.

“Probably just the guys breaking the furniture,” Rick said with a shrug.

“It sounded like a woman,” David said.

“Ha ha, I promise you, David. There are no women in there. I certainly do wish there were though.” Rick stared out into the darkness a wistful look on his face. David turned to the house again, just to look. He was sure Rick was right; it must have been his brain playing tricks on him. Whatever it was had been a good trick because whatever that noise was, it had sounded exactly like a woman’s lament.

CHAPTER FOUR

Olivia had never felt like more of a failure as she left work the next day. In the last week she had hooked up with a biker, let the biker sneak up on her, and then that biker’s gang had been busted in a huge raid. On top of that, she had ignored a call, and now someone was dead. No was else was blaming her for those things; it was only in Olivia’s mind that her failures kept spinning around in her head.

Where was David?
He still hadn’t been arrested. No matter how many times she ordered her mind to stop thinking about him, he was always popping up. She kept hoping that one of the men she passed on the street would be him. She saw a blond man entering a laundromat and her heart raced, but it was only for a second before it came crashing down when she saw the man’s face and it wasn’t one she recognized.
Where was David?

It was driving her crazy. Sitting at her computer, she couldn’t help herself any longer. She logged into the police’s system and entered David’s name, hoping for an address or a landline phone number. But his last listed residence was from an apartment above a drug store in Seattle. There was no address for him in Marina’s Crest, no telephone number either. The only known link was with members of God’s Reapers, and most of them were in jail cells and still not interested in talking.

“Why so glum, Waters?” Olivia heard someone call out behind her. She turned and saw Detective Farraday walking towards her. The detective was dark haired and short, and by all reports very good at her job. “We caught the bad guys; I thought you’d be thrilled. Were you just mad you missed out on all the action?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Olivia said.

“Anything else?” Farraday asked.

Yes, my one-night stand was one of those bikers, and he would be in jail right now if he had been there. He also hates me and blames me for the attack and meanwhile I can’t stop thinking about him.
She thought that, but out loud she said, “I didn’t answer that shooting call that came in yesterday. We were tailing someone, a biker, but it was a bad call. He didn’t lead us anywhere.”

“It happens, rookie. You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Farraday said. “And I appreciate you keeping on the bikers. A lot of people would have moved on by now. That’s good police work.”

“Thanks,” Olivia said. Normally, she would have lived for that kind of praise, but now it just left her feeling empty. “You know,” she continued. “No one ever told me, why did you bust the God’s Reapers that day? I thought this was going to be an ongoing investigation?”

“Come on,” Farraday said, gesturing towards the offices in the back. Olivia followed her to a door where the detective used her swipe card to open a locked room. The door swung open and Olivia had to suppress a gasp. It was the headquarters for the investigation into God’s Reapers. The walls were covered in pictures of the various members along with their names, aliases, and frequent contacts. There were listings of falsified order forms and criminal records. She scanned the wall for David’s picture, finally finding it tucked away in the corner. It was a picture taken with a lens from far away. In the picture David was standing next to his bike laughing at something. He looked young and carefree. Olivia wondered what he had been laughing at when that picture was taken, and where he was now.

“This is classified, so you know that you can’t tell anyone, right?” Farraday said. “We got a call, someone on the inside told us about a shipment of weed coming through. Guy knew everything about the drop: the truck, license plate, when it would cross the border, everything.”

“Who was it?” Olivia asked.

“No idea, someone in the organization, someone high up. But we don’t know who. Listen.” The detective pulled up the recording on her computer and pushed play. The voice that came through was modified and robotic sounding. There was no way to know who the person speaking was, or even if it was a man or a woman.

“There will be a large shipment of marijuana sent to a warehouse on Eighteenth and Marigold. That space belongs to the God’s Reapers, behind the shelves of automotive parts is a processing facility for the intake. The truck will be driven in and then left sitting in the warehouse until the shipment is done.” The robotic voice continued, giving away key details and specific scenarios. The voice gave away passwords the gang used, times they usually worked, license numbers for vehicles involved in the transaction. This must have been what it felt like to open King Tut’s tomb and seeing all the wealth and gold staring back at you. Someone had given the police everything they could have wanted to end the Reapers. But who had done it?

“And you have no idea who it was?” Olivia asked again. It seemed impossible that someone would give all of this information and then not get the credit. Maybe it was a member who had switched sides. But that didn’t seem right to Olivia. Bikers were loyal to a fault. They had almost a hundred of them sitting in lock up on big charges and not one of them had said a word. Even after plea deals had been offered, they were not known to talk.

A beep sung through the room and the detective frowned as she checked her phone. “I have to go deal with something. Lock the door behind you when you leave,” she said, getting up and walking out of the room, the door swinging closed behind her.

For a moment, Olivia stood in the center of the room debating her options. She knew that she could get in a lot of trouble for what she was thinking. A lot of trouble. She could be charged with a felony; she could lose her job and not just a job, but everything she had ever worked for. But that was if she got caught. If she played her cards right, then she and David would be the only people to hear it.

Quickly Olivia pulled out her phone and found her voice-recording app. She pulled it up and hit record and then hit play on the computer, letting the robotic voice fill her ears. It didn’t sound familiar to her at all, but there was a strange cadence to it. Whoever the person was, he or she wasn’t from Marina’s Crest. 

“Still here?” Farraday asked she entered the room. Olivia tried to look cool and calm; she managed not to jump when the detective entered. She kept her voice even and her movements minimal.

“Yeah, just listening to this call,” Olivia said. “The guy has a weird way of speaking, right. Did you guys check around to see if anyone knows the accent?”

“Yeah, it’s regional from somewhere up north, but there’s no real way of knowing where the guy was from. When they distort the voice like that, it’s a bit of a fool’s errand to try and figure anything out from it.”

Olivia nodded as the recording ended. When the detective turned around, she discreetly grabbed her phone and slipped it into her pocket. “Thanks so much for letting me see this, Detective Farraday. It’s hard out there on the streets every day. Sometimes it feels like you’re not doing anything all,” Olivia said as she made her way to the door.

“You gotta put in your dues, Waters. Nobody likes it, but it makes you a better detective. Besides, you do good work out on the street. Keep doing what you’re doing.” Olivia thanked her and headed for the door. He heart was pounding and her hand was wrapped around the phone in her pocket. She was sure that she was going to be stopped, or feel an arm on her shoulder and someone telling her this had been a test and she’d failed. But no one stopped her. Olivia and her recording stepped out into the precinct, and she allowed herself to breath normally.

Olivia had the evidence now. She could prove that she wasn’t the person who had sent the cops to God’s Reapers. Someone else had done it; someone who was working from the inside, but it wasn’t a mole. It was someone doing their own thing, using the cops to get rid of the Reapers. But why would a Reaper do that to his brothers?

Her shift was over and Olivia changed out of her uniform and into her street clothes. As she dressed, she wondered where on earth David could be. She knew he hadn’t run away. He still had to be in Marina’s Crest somewhere, but where. Where could he be and how could Olivia find him. She needed to find him. She needed to tell him that she wasn't what he thought. But she didn’t ask herself why this was so important, why a woman like Olivia would care about the opinion of someone like David Creely. But she did care. She couldn’t stand that he might think that she had betrayed him. She wasn’t sure what her feelings were for David Creely they were too new to be identifiable, but she knew that they were strong and they weren't going away.

She started her search at The Gray Lamp, searching through faces but not finding the one she was looking for. In her own car she drove around the old God’s Reapers’ warehouse and the warehouse on Marigold Street. Both locations were dark and empty and quiet, pieces of yellow police tape still flapping in the wind.

She knew what her last resort was…Hillary Sweetie. She was the lady of one of the bikers. She had been seen at the warehouse, and it was at Hillary’s trailer that Olivia had first met David. Hillary would know where David was; the problem was she would never tell Olivia. Hillary knew that Olivia was a cop, and therefore she would never trust her. Olivia couldn’t ask her. If she did, Hillary might tell the God’s Reapers that Olivia was looking for them, and they would see it as a threat. Olivia only wanted one Reaper to know she was looking for him.

If she couldn’t ask Hillary, then she would have to follow her. It was her only lead. She would have to watch Hillary and follow her everywhere she went in the hopes that the woman would lead her to David. Even though she had spent her entire day at work, at eleven o’clock Olivia stopped for a coffee and then parked her car on Hillary’s corner and waited.