Shot to Hell (Four Horsemen MC #7) (18 page)

“But Woody slipped up.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense.” Beauregard folded his arms over his chest.

“They bought a credit card skimmin’ machine.”

Ash had several questions, but chief among them was the identity of the informant. It could be a trap. “Who’s Fox, and do you trust this person?”

Vick bobbed her head. “I do. She’s famous in hacker circles. We chatted once or twice before.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “When you go digging on the internet, you leave behind breadcrumbs, and someone really good, like Fox….”

“She figured out you were diggin’ into the Raptor’s financials. But why would she help you? She doesn’t know us, so why would she even give a damn?” Steele frowned. “Hey…wait a second. Fox. I know this chick. She’s one of Coyote’s hacker buddies.”

“She is. And hackers help each other out.” Vick smiled. “The Raptors have a bad reputation—internet porn, abusing women, you name it. Anyone who brings those jerks down is doing a good thing—and you get hacker street cred for joining the fight.”

“Even though you happen to work for the Dixie Mafia?” Ash had to be suspicious in her line of work.

“Never mind that for a second. I wanna know what the fuck a skimmer is.” Justice curled his lip. “Sounds like a video game.”

“It collects credit card data.” Vick turned her computer around so she could show them examples of the tech involved.

Ash was stunned to see everything from fake card slots to false keyboards made to fit right on top of the real deal. Talk about taking thievery to the next level. People handed over their credit card information without evening knowing it.

Vick continued her explanation. “Criminals install them at ATMs and gas station pumps—there are even little handheld devices. Thieves who work as servers use them at restaurants. You know, when you hand your card over with the bill. From what I’ve put together, the Raptors bought a device to place inside the gas pump itself, so you never even see it from the outside.”

Beauregard whistled. “Talk about sophisticated, especially for those idiots.”

“Yeah, but they couldn’t do it on their own, so they profit-shared with the thieves who actually made the skimmer.”

“You can seriously buy these on the internet?” Ash was dumbstruck.

Vick nodded. “There are some sketchy areas on the net, and the thieves who build the skimmers take a pretty hefty cut—seventy percent.”

“That’s why the Raptors took Coyote,” Justice said. “He’d be able to make a skimmer, no problem. The kid’s never met a piece of technology he couldn’t rip apart and rebuild.”

Steele slumped down in the chair next to her. “Coyote must be alive then.” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw.

“Yes, I think so too. I bet they wanted to keep all the cash, but they didn’t have the tech skills to pull it off,” Vick said. “It also explains how they’ve been livin’ off the grid. They have a big influx of
dinero
from their skimmers.”

“How are they able to get away with it without anyone bein’ the wiser?” Ash asked.

“Once in a blue moon they got caught, but the cops can’t get identifiable info off the skimmers. The thieves cover their tracks.” Vick turned her computer back around and typed on the keyboard.  “And they take other countermeasures. They install skimmers on Friday nights and remove them before banks open on Monday mornings.”

“So they could empty people’s bank accounts over the weekend when the banks are closed.” Ash whistled. “By the time people figure it out, the bastards have moved on to another gas station or ATM.”

Steele sat up straighter. “How do they break into gas pumps or ATM machines?”

“Don’t need to,” Vick said. “There are only a few manufacturers, and if you buy replacement keys….”

“You can build yourself a key ring which will open any ATM or gas pump,” Dixon said, putting it all together. “They’ve got money, right there for the stealin’.”

“Great, we found out what they’re up to. How do we catch ‘em?” Steele clasped his hands together and rubbed.

“That’s where we run into a problem.” Vick licked her lips. “I don’t have the foggiest idea where they installed the skimmers. It could be ATM machines or gas pumps. Hell, they could’ve had Coyote make the handheld kind and gotten hired at restaurants for all I know.”

“Hold on…I know somethin’. Think, think…Lickety Split.” He snapped his fingers. “Daisy mentioned it the other day. The police found a skimmer on a gas pump in Canyon City, but they didn’t have any leads.”

“Raptor territory.” Justice clapped Steele’s shoulder. “They probably started close to home.”

“We should check other gas stations,” Beauregard said. “They’re outdoors, and the bikers got an excuse to be at a pump. We could stake them out and wait for a Raptor to lead us back to the rest of the group.”

Ash was onboard. “Makes sense to me. And as luck would have it, it’s Friday. I say we go on a big stakeout all over the county tonight.”

“I wish we had more time,” Vick said, typing again, her features pinched. “I could GPS tag the machines, and ya’ll could follow them right back to their hidey holes without them bein’ on to you.”

“We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.” Beauregard paced back and forth.

Steele pulled out his phone. “I’ll text Axel and let him know what’s goin’ on. We’ll have the Horsemen out in force tonight.”

“I’ll put my people on it too.” Beauregard turned to Vick. “Can you Google gas stations in the area so we can get a list going?”

“I’m on it.” Vick’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

As they made plans and divided up the stations, Ash sighed with relief.

Finally
, they had a solid lead to go on and not another freaking goose chase.

It was time to nail these assholes.

***

“We should’ve split up.”

Steele glanced at his stakeout partner, Ash. “We’re safer in pairs.” Though Steele wasn’t convinced they’d even see a Raptor tonight.

Ash was in a horn-tossing mood and had been ever since they’d headed out in her Forrester to their assigned Lickety Split gas station in Bellville, a nearby town.

He’d had to go ten rounds with her on who was driving tonight. Steele had won, but it didn’t feel like much of a victory.

Axel had ordered everyone to fly under the radar, which meant no cuts and no bikes. Between personal vehicles, Axel’s loaner cars from Seventh Circle, and the club’s trucks, everyone had a vehicle to use.

The club had spent the day dividing up gas stations and making plans. Between the Horsemen and the Dixie douchebags, they’d covered the whole county. They’d paired bikers together in case any shit went down. Voo had even instructed the hellions to fill thermoses with hot coffee as well as pack some sack lunches in case this thing stretched out long into the night.

Tonight they’d catch one of these bastards. They
had
to.

“I don’t need your protection.” She wiped at the dust on the console with a paper napkin, scrubbing furiously.

“Well, you got it anyhow.” He grinned, trying to charm her out of the foul mood. “And who says
I
don’t need
your
protection?”

She didn’t even acknowledge the comment—no laughter or smart remark.

He knew why she was so agitated. They didn’t have an elephant in the car with them—nope, they had a whole damn herd. Noisy bastards stomping all over the place, trumpeting.

The longer they held off talking about Abe, the worse it would get.

But now wasn’t the time. It
never
seemed to be the right time. He should’ve let one of his brothers pair off with Ash.  But he had a feeling she’d have chosen Ace, and Steele would’ve had to put his brother in the hospital.

Steele sipped his coffee and turned his attention back to the darkened gas station. He raised the pair of binoculars he’d borrowed from Inferno and took a good long look.

Nothing.

After the night clerk had closed up, they’d pulled into the strip mall across the street from Lickety Split. It had a Walmart, open twenty-four hours a day, so they didn’t look suspicious. She’d parked them at the edge of the lot, facing the gas station. They’d turned off the car so it looked like any other parked vehicle. Steele was glad he’d dressed warm for the occasion.

Ash had brought her own sack lunch with her. While he ate one of Voo’s sausage biscuits, which were somehow even better at room temperature, she ate some trail mix, crunching it loudly, taking out her irritation on helpless almonds and cranberries.

“Since we got nothin’ better to do than pass the time, what do you say we shoot the breeze?”

She
hmphed
. “Let’s not and say we did.”

Stubborn as a mule.

“You never told me. Which lucky bastard actually took your virginity?” Steele calmly surveyed the gas station, like he didn’t give a flying rat’s ass. Though it was eating him up inside.

“I forgot.” She’d finished off the mix and crinkled the bag in her hand.

“Bullshit. Come on. Give me a hint at least.” Damn, talking to her these days was like trying to bag flies.

She scowled. “Hell no.”

“Do I know him?”

She blew out an irritated breath, and it was so cold in the car he could actually see it. “Yes, you do.”

Steele pulled out his Horsemen lighter and lit it. He placed it between them, and she held her hands near the flame to warm them. “’Fess up. At least give me his initials.”

“F.U.,” she replied with a smirk.

He laughed, despite himself. “Come on, be serious.” For some manly territorial reason, it bothered the fuck out of him. To his way of thinking, he should’ve been her first, but another bastard had gotten the pleasure.

“Who took
your
virginity?”

 He flicked the lighter closed and tucked it back into his pocket. “Nah, don’t even try to change the subject.” He gave Lickety Split a cursory glance.
Still a whole lotta nothin’.

“How am I changing the subject? We’re talkin’ about losin’ virginity. It’s the same topic.”

“Fine. If I tell you, will you tell me?”

She dipped her head in agreement.

“Freshman year of high school, Stephanie Newman.”

They’d had sex after football practice. He’d gone home with Steph, and her parents hadn’t been home from work yet. The sex had been…well, great, in the physical sense.  But then again, he’d been fourteen and got hard from watching….well, anything.

But it hadn’t meant much to him. Maybe because he’d been picturing Ash in his mind’s eye.

“Figures, another pretty popular girl.” Ash huddled against the car door.

Steele had deliberately gone after attractive girls from wealthier families. He’d needed the ego boost of a rich girl willing to go for a poor guy from the wrong side of the tracks. Like the movie
Say Anything
, only he didn’t hold up a boom box outside their windows afterward.

“I told you mine. You tell me yours.”

“You aren’t gonna let this go, huh?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Fine. Tommy Reaves.”

He snorted. “You fucked Tommy? You gotta be kidding me.”

Tommy had come from a well-to-do family, and the bastard loved to flaunt it. In middle school, he’d made fun of Steele every chance he’d gotten…until Steele had a growth spurt and whipped Tommy’s ass after school one day. Then the bastard was afraid to look Steele in the eye.

“Nope.”

The fuck?
“You chose him on purpose, didn’t you?”

“You bet your ass I did.” Her brow furrowed. “But he surprised me. Tommy was a gentleman, and he didn’t blab to anyone.”

“Why? Did you want me to hear about it?”

Ash didn’t respond.

“When did you and Tommy get it on?”

Ash didn’t answer him at first and then whispered, “About a month after you were with Sally.”

Ah, hell.
Guilt slammed into him.

Neither one of them spoke for a while.

 Steele didn’t know what to say. Her first time had been about getting even with him. Ash deserved someone tender, a guy who was crazy about her, who gave her pleasure. Somebody who realized how special she was. Not some asshole looking to get laid.

She cleared her throat.  “It was good for a first time.”

“Yeah, what made it so damn good?” He was definitely
not
jealous.

 “I guess it was effort. He gave me oral, which is thoughtful.”

Steele gritted his teeth.

“Though it could’ve been better.”

 “Oh yeah? What went wrong?”

She shifted in her seat. “Too much pressure. Then again, men are usually too rough. Internet porn gives you guys the wrong idea.”

“Don’t lump me in with the rest of ‘em, Dusty. I’m amazin’ at licking pussy. I
always
leave the ladies satisfied.”

Ash turned to him, raising a brow. “Yup, I’m sure there’ve been
hundreds
. No shortage of biker groupies.”

She made it sound like he was some sort of gigolo. Although, it wasn’t far from the truth. Over the years, he’d gotten used to mutual masturbation. He pleased the girls and Steele got his rocks off in the process, but he didn’t feel a damn thing.

After seeing Ash again, he remembered it’d once been something better.  

“And after Tommy rocked your world?”

She ran her fingertips over the console, and he had an overwhelming urge to place her hands on him instead. “We went straight from high school into the Corps, and I kept it light—a few overseas, a few after I got back. No big deal.”

And yet Steele had a feeling sex with Ash would be a very big deal.

He’d already had a preview—knew instinctively it’d be mind-blowing. Hell, she already made him nuts. If he got in any deeper, he might never crawl out again. 

She nodded at the gas station. “Heads up. I think our boy is here.”

A motorcycle rolled into Lickety Split. They watched as the bike slid up to the last pump on the right-hand side. The biker opened the metal door on the gas pump and pulled something out of one of his saddlebags.

Steele pulled the binoculars up and took a look at the Raptor, even though the low light level made it difficult. The biker blended into the shadows near the far pump.  He wasn’t wearing a cut, but the Raptors were trying to fly under the radar and wouldn’t want to flash their colors. The kid was young, probably a prospect. He lit up a cigarette near the gas pump.