Little Jack (Hell's Handlers MC 6)

Hence the ultra-sexy underwear currently riding up her crack. That stuff may be successful at turning her man on, but dayum, it was uncomfortable as all get out.

Time to stop dawdling and get on with this miserable task.

As Holly walked toward the conference room, with about as much enthusiasm as if she were walking into Jury Duty, voices of the officers met her in the hallway.

“Shit, Sheriff, you really worked this from all angles, didn’t you.” The voice belonged to Schwartz.

Holly slowed and stifled a groan. Since the hellish night of the missed concert, she hadn’t laid eyes on the man and didn’t relish it now. If her task weren’t so important, she’d bail and come back at a time the deputy was absent.

“I have,” her father said. “It’s time to move forward and start putting these bastards behind bars.”

With a frown, Holly crept closer to the open conference room door. Was it wrong to eavesdrop? Sure, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Not when she had a really good idea who the “bastards” were.

“You sure Marjorie’s gone? No one left in the building?” That was Higgins. Apparently, this meeting was a gathering of reptiles.

“Yeah,” Schwartz said. “Saw her car drive off a minute ago out that window.”

“All right. Let’s review the plan one more time,” her dad said. A chair creaked and footsteps sounded in the room.

Holly’s heart raced as she flattened herself against the wall. Like that would do anything if the men stepped into the hallway. She should leave. Needed to leave, but her feet were rooted to the ground, and her body froze as she waited for more.

“In exactly thirty minutes, dispatch is going to receive a phone call from a chick who was partying at the clubhouse last night,” Schwartz said.

“What’s ’er name again?” Higgins asked.

“Carli. She’s some whore who used to hang around the club begging for scraps. Had dreams of being an ol’ lady.” Schwartz snorted as though the thought disgusted him. “Stupid girl learned a hard lesson about how little whores are valued.”

All three men laughed.

All three.

Her father. Laughing at some poor woman’s pathetic life situation. Despite the pain in her heart and the sickening feeling of betraying her blood, Holly pulled her phone from her purse. After silencing it, she opened the camera and pressed record.

“Anyway,” Schwartz continued. “Five hundred bucks goes a long way in Carli’s world and she was more than willing to do anything I wanted.”

“You fuck ’er?” Higgins asked, and Holly nearly vomited.

No one said anything for a second then all three laughed again. She imagined Schwartz winking or making some kind of obscene gesture.

“Let’s get serious for a second,” her father said. “She was able to plant the drugs, right?”

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Plant the drugs?

This could not be happening.

Holly bit down on her lower lip, hard, to keep from screaming. A tiny whimper of pain escaped, and she clamped a hand over her mouth and held her breath. The men seemed completely oblivious to her presence. Tears streamed down her face, landing on the screen of her phone. She’d just recorded her father admitting he’d planted evidence to frame the Hell’s Handlers.

“She did it, not sure how she managed to smuggle that much meth in when she was wearing next to nothing, but the woman pulled it off.”

Higgins snorted. “Probably shoved it up ’er twat.”

“Maybe,” her dad said. “Who gives a fuck? The deed is done, and we’ll find enough meth in enough places around that clubhouse to arrest a good handful of them. Enough to fuck up their businesses both legal and illegal for a while. Judge Milson is home today with his family. We can get a warrant signed five minutes after the whore calls it in.”

Never once in her entire life had she heard her father refer to a woman as a whore. Even when he arrested prostitutes as a beat cop. What the hell happened to the man she grew up with?

His daughter was murdered by a biker.

“So what’s Carli gonna say when she calls into dispatch?” Higgins asked.

With a laugh, Schwartz responded, “She’s good, I’ll give her that much. She’s gonna be all weepy and say she met this guy, thought he was really fucking fun, partied with him. When he took her back to his room, she found the drugs in his bathroom. She’s gonna act all heartbroken because she thought she’d finally met a good guy.”

“Jesus,” her dad said with a chuckle. “Like taking candy from a fucking baby.”

“Where’d she plant it?” Higgins asked.

“Told her not to tell us. Can’t have it looking too easy. This way, when we show up with a search warrant, we actually have to fucking search. Don’t worry about being too careful with their shit, either,” her dad said, and of course, the goons laughed.