Reaper's Property(81)

“Already ahead of you,” Ruger said, flashing a smile. He flicked his lip ring with his tongue as he grabbed a laptop from the bench, popping it open. The guy looked scary as hell with his tats, mohawk, chains and piercings, but around technology he was more like a little kid at Christmas. Ruger popped open the security control panel for the clubhouse on the laptop, and he clicked on a multicolored layout of the armory and surrounding property. “See here? We’ve got the cams and basic motion sensors, of course, but I’m planning on putting in some new stuff around the perimeter, right here. We need detection, but I’m also worried about manpower. I want to rig some traps that we can trigger by computer or phone if we need to. I know we can’t count on the electronics a hundred percent, but we can only spread ourselves so thin. This gives us more options.”

“Can we put something outside her room?” Horse. “I know it’s not a top priority, but I’d like to keep an eye on her. Just in case they buy off one of the girls or something. This probably won’t come down to a frontal assault.”

Ruger scratched his head, considering.

“I can rig something up for you,” he said. “Won’t be until tomorrow. After I fix the guys up back here I’m ready for some pussy. Speaking of, you sure about yours?”

“You sayin’ I have a pussy?” Horse asked, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow.

“Don’t be an asshole, you know I meant your girl upstairs. I get that you’re into her. But she knows his life is at stake and we might be the ones to kill him. You might want to consider the possibility that she’s working with Jensen on this. She’s only human, Horse.”

Horse shook his head.

“Marie can’t lie for shit,” he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling tired. “And even if she was, she doesn’t know a damn thing. Couldn’t be his source of information.”

“If they’re talking, she wouldn’t have to be his only source,” Ruger replied, his tone reasonable. “He might be using her. I don’t think she’s screwing you on purpose—”

“Oh, she’s definitely screwing me on purpose,” Horse replied, deadpan.

“Fuck you,” Ruger replied, grinning. “You know what I mean. She’s the victim in this situation and she believes in her brother. She tells him about your day-to-day life, he puts that together with a couple other sources, could add up. You don’t tell her about club business, but she sure as shit knows when we’re on a long run. All the women do. Fuck, for all we know he’s on Facebook with them or something, pretending to be some chick they know. You get enough old ladies talking about their men being gone, it adds up.”

“Shit,” muttered Horse, shaking his head. “Never thought of that. This is a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Ya think?” Ruger asked, rubbing a hand across his tattooed scalp and the short buzz of his mohawk. “So you want cameras on her. Sure you don’t want something inside the room too?”

“Nope, don’t want your sick ass watching us fuck,” Horse replied. “But I do want to check on her, make sure nobody’s lingering, trying to get to her. You know what I mean? Oh, and a GPS on her car. Want to be able to find her. Make sure she doesn’t see you, want to keep her safe, not freak her out more.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I need someone sucking my dick, and unless you’re planning to share your old lady, I got higher priorities than this conversation.”

Ruger grinned and Horse laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it hard enough to leave marks.

“Touch Marie and I’ll cut off your balls.”

“Yeah, right,” Ruger replied. “So much for taking care of your brothers, you cock-blocking bastard. Talk to me tomorrow and I’ll set it up to feed to your phone, along with the computers.”

“Thanks, man,” Horse said.

The party was raging back in the main lounge. Two girls were bumping and grinding each other up on one end of the bar, and a third served up body shots in the middle. Duck, the filthy old pervert, sat back on a couch with a barely legal redhead eating out his mouth with her hand thrust down between them, working furiously. Picnic caught Horse’s eye across the room, apparently finished with his important business in the office. The man gave a chin jerk, inviting Horse to join the Portland and LeGrande officers at his table.

“Interesting times,” Picnic said as Horse grabbed a seat. “Deke tells me the Portland boys are itching for this.”