“And we saw no movement whatsoever on the hills around it. If anyone’s keeping watch over them, they’re as skilled at hiding as we are,” Eagle adds.
The rest of the pairs confirm this, as do me and Blaze. I spent a good amount of time scanning the surrounding area for other watchers, and I even spotted Eagle going for a piss a couple of times, but that’s not something I need to share right now.
“Almost no cars passed the road either,” Mac says. He and his partner were on the hill that had the best view of the road. “And there were no helicopters or anything like that flying over it.”
“I saw a guy on one of those glider things one afternoon, but I doubt the feds are using that method of surveillance,” Eagle says, earning a chuckle from a couple of the guys.
Cross asks each of us how many people we counted. It soon becomes apparent I’m the only one who actually counted them all with any type of accuracy.
“There’s sixty-two men, fifty women, fifteen of which are club whores and the rest wives or girlfriends. There are also twenty children, most of them young. The youngest is a baby,” I say.
Cross gives me an appreciative look. “How sure are you of these numbers?”
“I counted them so many times I can still see their faces when I close my eyes,” I say. “Stake-outs are boring.”
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. But that’s nothing new for me.
Blaze shoots me a warning look, but luckily Cross and Hawk both chuckle.
“Yeah, they are,” Cross says. “But I’m glad you made the most of your time on this one.”
“I can tell you where most of them live too. Like in which houses,” I add. “And their routines.”
I point at a photo of a guy in his early thirties that’s closest to me. “Like this one, for example, I’m pretty sure he’s in love with the redheaded club whore. He’s always watching her and accompanies her wherever she’s going when she leaves the bar. Which is this building.”
I point it out in one of the pictures.
“And this is the house where all the club girls live,” I point at a two-story house at one end of the main street. “About five of the guys spent every night in there with them. This one, that one, those two and the guy who has the hots for the redhead,” I conclude, pointing them out in the photos.
The room is very silent when I stop talking, so silent I can hear the echo of my words.
Cross is looking at me very intently. “Good work, Colt. That’s very detailed stake-out work.”
I shrug, not comfortable being the center of attention like this. Which I am. Everyone is staring at me like they’ve never seen me before.
“I have a good memory for faces,” I mutter.
“Clearly,” Hawk says with a grin. “Show me where the rest of them live.”
He’s holding a magic marker and steps aside so I can come to stand beside him and Cross to where the photos are visible right way up. The entire town is very accurately recreated in photos on the table, and it actually turns out better if I’m standing at the side, looking at it the way I saw it from the hill me and Blaze were on.
Hawk marks each face with a number and writes that same number on the house I point out as being the one the man lives in. There’s only five that I’m not sure about, but the rest of the guys confirm my best guesses.
“And Snake, the guy with the ponytail, he lives in the big house alone,” I say. “Two club girls spent the night there last night, the redhead and the one with the really short white hair. The guy who’s in love with the redhead wasn’t too happy with that. He paced around the bottom of that hill the big house is on for a good two hours waiting for her then went back to the whorehouse alone.”
“That is some very solid info,” Hawk says appreciatively. “You can go on every stake-out from now on.”
I almost say, Please, no, but manage to bite my tongue just in time before I blurt it out.
“Now, if we could only be sure that it’s only Sinners and their hangers-on down there, we could finish this job and go home,” Hawk says.
“Yeah, I wish I could be of more help there,” Ace says. “But I never got to meet all of them.”
“Brenda knows them all,” I say. “I could take her the photos and she could say if any one of them doesn’t belong.”
I came up with this idea the moment Ace wasn’t able to recognize all the men in the photos. And I’m hella proud of myself for waiting this long to bring it up.
Cross and Hawk share a look, then turn to Ace, who shrugs as though to say, Why not?
“Can we trust her this far?” Cross asks.
“Yes, I’m sure of it,” I say. “She hates them and they tried to kill her. She won’t betray us to them. And if she was gonna go to the cops, she would’ve by now, right?”
Hawk looks at Cross. “I’d rather have as much info as we can get for this job. It’s just pictures she’ll be looking at.”
“All right, as soon as this meeting is over, you’ll take her the photos,” Cross says.
Then him and Hawk continue to ask us questions about every little tiny detail about the town we spent the last two days watching. I’d rather be riding out to see Brenda, much rather. But I’m happy to sit here too, making sure that we’re doing everything we can to plan this job thoroughly so that we lose no more brothers to it.
Sunrise finds me on my bike, my hair wet from the shower I absolutely had to take before going to see Brenda, because I’m not at all sure how happy she’d be to see me smelling like I’ve just spent two days and nights lying in the dirt. In my saddlebags, I have two fat manila envelopes filled with photos I’m to show Brenda. One contains just the close-ups of the men, and the other a bunch of photos of the women too, which Hawk thought it’d be a good idea if she looked at too, just to rule out the possibility that the feds are using female agents. It’s pretty absurd if they are, given that the Sinners are a very man’s man kinda club, but Hawk was of the opinion we might as well check everything thoroughly.
The parking lot in front of the motel is empty when I ride up. I shouldn’t be leaving Brenda alone here day and night. It’s not a good place for a woman alone. Why the hell didn’t I think of that before?
It’s because I came here thinking just with my cock each and every time I’ve spent the night, and once I got that taken care of, all I could think about was the next time I could. She deserves better.
I knock on her door and she opens before I’m even done with it. She must’ve seen me coming, but that’s not happiness to see me on her face. Her eyes are shooting blue flames and her otherwise very nicely shaped, plump lips are an almost non-existent thin line.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I couldn’t call.”
She steps aside so I can enter, then slams the door once I’m inside. “What else is new?”
She stalks off and sits on the edge of the bed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. I had every intention of kissing her the moment I saw her, and then taking those kisses to all those places we didn’t get to visit the last time I was here, but I feel like I’m taking another very cold shower under that fiery gaze of hers.