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I couldn’t tell her that while I shared her same gut feeling that the Sinners were up to something, no amount of watching this house was going to get us anywhere. Knowing the chief would have my head if I compromised the bigger operation in any way, I’d shot off a text message to my contact in the gang hours ago, telling them we’d be watching.
Some days, I really hated my job.
Jayela put her camera up to her eye. “It’s Hayden and that weedy little guy we haven’t identified.” Her camera clicked half a dozen times, capturing images in the low light of the fading sun. “Shifty fucks. They’re getting something out of the trunk.”
She always did this. Commentated our stakeouts like I wasn’t sitting right beside her, watching the exact same thing. It was one of the things I enjoyed about her. She loved this job more than life itself. More than food. More than sex. More than breathing. Her enthusiasm had pumped up my own, until I’d thought we were equal.
But it was clear to me at times like this, why the chief had picked me to be the inside guy. At first, I’d thought it was a respect thing. That he thought I was a good cop, worthy of being in the know, and involved in tasks beyond my pay grade.
But as the months had worn on, I’d seen it for what it really was.
I was the one more easily swayed.
Jayela’s morals were too strong. She never would have agreed to the things I had. Even if they’d promised her a raise, a promotion—hell, they could have offered Jayela a yacht and she still wouldn’t have accepted bribes from a gang, even if it was for some greater good. She would have found another way.
I couldn’t see one that didn’t involve me compromising everything I believed in.
“They’re getting something out of the back,” Jayela whispered, dropping her camera to her lap.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the steering wheel. We were several houses down the street, with cars parked all around us. We didn’t exactly stick out, but if the dumbasses had ignored my warnings and gone ahead and accepted a shipment of guns or drugs, or hell, bodies for all I knew, then the chief was going to have a coronary. My instructions from the get-go were that we needed these guys working with us to catch the bigger fish. They couldn’t go down.
“Pass me the camera.” I grasped it by the strap, pulling the body up to my eye. Peering through the lens and feeling like an asshole, I made sure my next few shots were blurry.
“Shit, Josh. They’re getting something out of the back. What is that? Are you getting this?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I wasn’t.
Hayden, a big guy, covered in colorful tattoos, slammed down the trunk, hoisting something wrapped in black plastic over his shoulder.
Jesus Christ.
“Please tell me that’s not a dead body in that plastic,” Jayela whispered.
“It’s not.” It couldn’t be.
“Are you sure?”
No. “Yes.”
Hayden hoisted his parcel a little higher on his shoulder and darted a glance to his left and then his right.
Then raised one hand and waved.
Jayela slumped back in her seat as Hayden waltzed down the street toward us like he didn’t have a care in the world. He stopped outside Jayela’s door and rapped his knuckles across the glass.
With a heavy sigh, Jayela put her window down.
Hayden ducked down, resting one elbow on the doorframe. “Evening, Officers. Enjoying your shift?”
Jayela didn’t bother answering his question. “What’s in the bag?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would actually.”
He grinned and dropped it from his shoulder and down into his arms, yanking the black plastic back with one hand. “Ta da!”
