Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“Drink the rest,” Cipher drawled as he kicked an empty chair toward the table. “Might strip some of the ugly off your face.”
“Nothing in that pot is strong enough to help either one of you.” Judge took a sip of his own coffee. “Might fucking kill you, though.”
Hawkeye was leafing through a sheaf of papers from his seat on the couch and didn’t lift his head as he muttered, “He dies, move his chair. We need the space.”
Low laughter rolled through the room, and Ledger took another deliberately suspicious drink. “Good to know my loss would be felt.”
“Your chair’s comfortable,” Judge tossed out.
A prospect stepped through the open door carrying a folder. “South-road footage and the list of plates from last night.”
“Put it on the desk,” Stryker instructed, finally looking up as the prospect crossed the room. His gaze shifted to Tamsin before settling briefly on me.
I put slight pressure on Tamsin’s waist, encouraging her to go inside. Her expression said she didn’t know whether to be fascinated or intimidated.
Grabbing the back of a chair at the conference table, I pulled it out for her and waited until she sat before taking the one beside her. A faint flush rose when the room quieted, and every man turned her way, so I rested one forearm along the back of her chair, making it clear she had come in with me and would leave the same way.
Stryker moved past the broad access list she had given us at the warehouse and asked for specifics only she could provide: when the final schedule had circulated, who received the complete launch plan, and what knowledge someone would need to hide the missing material.
Tamsin answered softly at first, but the hesitation disappeared once she began discussing company procedure. “The complete launch plan went to operations, the field supervisors, the event coordinator, and your security contact. Individual crew members had the sections they needed, and it wasn’t a secret that my parents and most of management would be at the fundraiser.”
“How many had after-hours warehouse access?” Stryker asked.
“Fewer, but still too many. My parents, the operations manager, two warehouse leads, several supervisors, and I have credentials.” She folded her hands on her lap, the gesture revealing the nerves her steady voice concealed. “Some access is assigned by position instead of person, so I’ll need the physical records to know who was supposed to be there.”
Stryker’s questions were thorough, and her answers confirmed that a person with warehouse access could carry cases out, but hiding the loss required knowledge of how outgoing stock, field use, damage, and returns were reconciled. She also let us know
that the operations manager had personally completed the final rack inspection.
“What do you need to determine the exact amount taken?” Stryker asked.
“A complete physical count,” she replied. “Then I need the original field sheets, outgoing records, transfer forms, and final reconciliation reports. The electronic total may include last-minute movement for the fundraiser, so I can’t tell you what is truly missing until I compare everything.”
“Do the count. Give Ghost everything you find.” Stryker’s gaze shifted briefly to me before returning to Tamsin. “Anything we learn that affects your company or safety comes back through him.”
Tamsin glanced at me, and something warm moved through her expression before she faced Stryker again. “All right.”
Stryker tipped his chin toward the door. “Get the count started. I’ll call when the brothers find something worth knowing.”
Tamsin remained quiet until we crossed the lot toward my bike. Then she looked over at the clubhouse and released a slow breath.
“I expected them to dismiss half of what I said because of my age,” she admitted, tucking a curl behind one ear. “Most people need a while before they stop seeing twenty.”
“We listen to the person who knows the fucking job.”
“Some of my employees struggle with that concept.”
My smile changed as I looked down at her. “They’ll learn.”
Tamsin paused beside the bike and studied my face. “Is that a promise or a threat?”
“Depends how fast they learn.”
There was steel beneath the easy answer. I had no intention of letting anyone erase her authority by looking through her toward the nearest man, especially after someone had exploited weaknesses inside her company to endanger hundreds of people.
Tamsin’s eyes widened slightly before the corner of her mouth curved, and she accepted the helmet without argument. When she climbed on behind me, her arms went around my waist before I told her where to put them. I looked down at her hands locked over my stomach and smiled. Tamsin was already becoming comfortable reaching for me, and I intended to make that instinct permanent.
The warehouse was secured when we arrived. Brothers and prospects held the entrances, unnecessary vehicles had been moved away from the loading area, and Bellamy employees waited for Tamsin to begin the count. She stepped inside beside me, took one look at the shelves, cases, and paperwork stations, and shifted from shy woman to coordinator without changing the volume of her voice.