Page 12 of The Devil's Weakness

“What are we going to do about the other driver?” SoCo questions.

“Foremost, we need to confirm that it was, in fact, a hit and run.”

“But the paint on the fender...” SoCo interrupts.

“I know,” Stone agrees. “That, and the fact the cops were on their way, tells me that someone at least saw what happened and called them.”

There is a collective nod around the room as I look at each of my brothers’ faces.?

“Blade, I want you to pay a visit to Captain Turner and see what information he can find for you. Specifically, who called it in.” Stone requests.?

“Consider it done,” I acknowledge.

“I need everyone else out, scouring the town—all hands on deck. If you find a vehicle that you believe could match, I want you to check it for any sign of damage. Do not approach the vehicle owner. This is merely a fact-finding mission. Got it?”

A chorus of ‘Got its’ echoes through the room.

“Let’s ride, then.”

* * *

Takingcare of business at the police station is something I absolutely detest. I may be virtually untouchable, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy rubbing elbows with cops, no matter what the situation.

I don’t like them, and I sure as fuck don’t trust them.?

As soon as I walk through the front door, the chin of the young female officer behind the counter practically dislocates as it hangs open. She can’t take her eyes off of me. Her male co-worker looks from her to me, and venom fills his gaze.?

Any other time, I would flirt with the girl, knowing that I could taint one of Whispering Valley’s finest and get her on her back with nothing more than a mere smile. Also, it would piss her fucking fresh-out-of-the-academy co-worker right the fuck off in the process. However, my reason for coming here tonight is more important than messing with bottom-of-the-barrel pigs.

“I’m here to see Turner,” I inform them.

“CaptainTurner?” the little shit asks.

“That’s the one,” I confirm.

“Do you have an appointment?” the kid challenges.

“Tell him it’s Blade. He’ll fit me in between all of hisimportantmeetings.”

I hold back the bitch-slap that I’m aching to deliver when I see his eyebrow raise with attitude.?

“Captain Turner requires all visitors to have a pre-scheduled appointm—hey!” he shouts as I blow him off mid-sentence.

I don’t have time for his nonsense. I walk around the desk and through the door leading to the small office area in the next room.

Turner focuses his attention on me as soon as I enter. Cutting off the officer who’s speaking to him, he greets me with an outstretched hand.?

It’s not returned.

“We gotta talk,” is the only thing I say.

“Come into my office,” he instructs.

Once we’re seated, I tell him why I’m there.

“Earlier this evening, there was a call placed to your dispatch regarding an accident at Deep Run and Wine.”

“What about it?” he questions.

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