Page 71 of Diamonds in the Mud

I’d seen Jameson a handful of times. Every time, he’d been surrounded by Reaper members or Izzy. From what I could tell, he was still successful at keeping the woman at arm’s length and was growing extremely frustrated at the woman’s advances.

I desperately wanted some alone time with him. Even though we’d texted one another on his private number a few times, I wanted face to face time soon.

Having spent so much time in my office looking at computer screens and the small print in the files, I was exhausted and just wanted to go home. I grabbed my keys from the desk and stepped out of my office.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I told Sherry as I passed her desk. She glanced up from the phone and waved at me.

Even though it was just past noon, it was the dead middle of summer, and I was drenched in sweat just a few seconds after stepping outside. This time of year, people shuffled from the air-conditioned indoors to their cool cars quickly and only enjoyed spending time outside in the early mornings or long after dark.

I wasn’t surprised to see Jameson’s Harley in front of the bar along with a row of other bikes next to it. When I walked into the place, I ran my eyes over the normal after-lunch crowd. Most of the Reapers who had the day off or didn’t work sat in the back at a booth. It looked like the smaller group was holding a meeting.

None of the groupies were in attendance, which I found odd.

Deciding not to play it cool just this once, I walked straight over to the table and sat down next to Felix.

“Hey, gang.” I smiled at each member. “What’s shaking?”

I watched Jameson’s eyes narrow slightly at me.

“Detective,” Felix said slowly.

“Is this a bonified card-holding, members-only event or can anyone have a beer?” I waved at Faye and shouted, “A round for the table on me.”

Faye stopped in her tracks, blinked a few times, and then hurried away.

I turned back to the eight men, all of whose files I had just spent days extensively studying, except for Jameson.

“Plotting your next bake sale?” I leaned on the table. When no one answered, I turned to Felix. “I noticed not a single member or groupie of your little group attended Evelyn’s funeral. I thought Reapers took care of their own?”

“You’re overstepping,” Felix said in a low tone. Then he turned to Jameson and growled, “Rein your bitch in.”

“Oh no.” I laughed, getting everyone’s attention again. “He’s your bitch. So is each man at this table.” I leaned closer to him. “So why didn’t you give a fuck about Evelyn?” I stared Felix directly in the eyes. “Only boys are family members?”

The man was easily twice my size. He stood at six-two and his dark blond hair was shaved on the sides of his head, leaving the top flopping over his eyes. A makeshift mohawk of sorts. My guess was that he styled it that way to showcase the tattoos above each ear. His full beard was slightly red, and he’d even added a few braids to his beard at one point.

The man, as with most of the Reapers, was packed with muscles and always seemed to be wearing black or leather.

“You’re pushing your luck, detective.” Felix leaned closer to me.

All I could see in his cold blue eyes was power. The power he either believed he held or the power he used to control his emotions.

“Do yourself and Evelyn’s son, Tristan, a favor. I don’t give a damned where you get it, but her mother is struggling to pay the bills now that her daughter isn’t working here to support them.” I motioned around the bar. “If you, any of you”—I glanced around the table slowly—“ever gave a damn about her, you’d anonymously donate to the boy’s fund.” I stood up suddenly as Faye delivered a tray of beers. “I don’t give a fuck if the money is dirty in any way. Not when I’ve seen firsthand just how that kid felt after losing his mother.” Setting a couple of twenties on Faye’s tray, I added, “Otherwise, everyone in town will know you’re all pieces of shit. Enjoy the beer.” I decided I’d had enough fun for one day, so I stormed out of the building and drove home.

Chapter Seventeen

“I’m a dirt person. I trust the dirt.

I don’t trust diamonds and gold.”

–Eartha Kitt

Jameson

Whatever I had felt for Rayne before easily doubled after she stormed out of the bar.

“It’s possible that woman has actual balls,” Felix joked, causing everyone at the table to chuckle.

I had been asked to take the day off for this meeting and another run into the bayou. I had yet to determine where the funds or the drugs were coming from.