Page 61 of Claimed By the Deputies

“For fuck’s sake, it feels like one dead end after another. Jerry isn’t exactly doing anything useful at the moment, either.”

“I get your frustration, but the truth is, if I were in the killer’s shoes, I’d lay low too, at least for a while. The whole town is in an uproar. You can’t see it out in the streets, but there’s a bad vibe going. The cops are afraid because the fox got into the hen house somehow. And the people are afraid because, well, if the fox can get to the police, they know it can get to them, too.”

“That’s why nobody’s talking. Stuart Johnson got lucky.”

“The only reason Johnson got lucky is because Lucas had him transferred to Rikers as soon as we found Jade’s body. He figured it would only be a matter of time before they tried to take him out too. It’s also possible Johnson wasn’t worth killing because he had no more intel to give.”

“We did bleed him dry in that sense,” I agree. “Dina and Tanya’s deaths will be unavenged.”

“At least we know the truth.”

I nod slowly. That’s the only consolation prize.

“We’re still struggling with warrants for Hamilton’s financial records,” Mitch reminds me. “The DA is his buddy, after all. Lucas is pushing for him to recuse himself, but he’ll need to get the state’s DA involved. It’s going to be a hot mess.”

“Unless we get those warrants by the end of the week, Lucas will have no other choice. Can’t say I envy him,” I grumble, then notice Dominique leaving the table. “Where is she going? She didn’t finish her fancy pasta.”

“Maybe the shrimp didn’t agree with her and she’s headed to the bathroom,” Mitch chuckles dryly.

Dominique leaves the bistro altogether. She heads to her car and drives past us, likely headed toward town hall. Jerry, on the other hand, seems comfortable in his seat.

A man walks by the bistro window and gives Jerry a sideways glance. Jerry discreetly replies with a nod, drops a few bills on the table, leaves the restaurant, and follows the guy down the street.

“Are you seeing this?” I ask Mitch, but he’s already snapping photos with his high-definition digital camera. “Guess so. Who’s the dude?”

“Jeans, grey shirt, hooded sweatshirt,” Mitch mutters, looking through the scope. “Bald head, tattoo on the side of his neck. Silver Stallion.”

“Are you sure?” I ask turning the key in the ignition.

Jerry and the bald guy get in the same car, a dark sedan parked six cars in front of us. They look around, but we remain unnoticed. We’ve been at this for a while and know how to blend in.

“Where are they going?” I follow from a reasonable distance as they lead us across town.

Mitch is checking known MC profiles on his smart tablet until our bald guy shows up on his screen. “Jake Merritt,” he says. “Club VP. Has to be official Stallion business. Dexter must’ve sent him.”

“Jerry didn’t seem too nervous about it,” I reply.

Finally, they pull up outside an old townhouse on the lesser side of Frost Valley. The entire neighborhood is known for its undesirables—sex workers, dime-bag dealers, abandoned houses, and at least a couple of suspected stash houses.

“I’m starting to think the DA might be in on this,” I mutter as we park several yards away between two old beaters. “We’re being slowed down at every turn.” I frown as we watch. “Wait. Where is he going? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

My jaw drops in disbelief as I watch Jerry follow Jake Merritt into one of the stash houses we’ve been itching to raid buthaven’t been able to come up with enough probable cause for a warrant.

“Well, this is rich. I wonder what they’re talking about in there. I think you might be on to something regarding our DA, but that’s going to be tough to prove, and we both know it,” Mitch says, shaking his head slowly. “But we can’t keep sitting around fiddling our thumbs, either. Jade’s case is getting cold, and we look like a bunch of fucking stooges right about now.”

“I could go in?—”

“Go in where?” Mitch looks at me in confusion.

“In there,” I nod toward the house. “We can’t see or hear anything from here.”

“Eavesdropping isn’t exactly an option here, Tyler. We sit tight and log every movement Jerry Spring makes. It’s all we can do. Besides, this is the first time we’re seeing him meet up with a Silver Stallion, and a VP, at that. This is good stuff.”

“Fair enough.”

He checks his watch. “Man, today can’t be over soon enough.”

“Nobody likes stakeouts.”

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