Roman - Lane Hart Page 0,19
was last seen on Ocean Boulevard, as you’re about to witness for yourself.”
I give them all time to open the file and watch. It’s obvious when everyone gets to the important part as they each let out various curses.
While they’re digesting the events, I call up Danny and put him on speaker.
“Roman. I was just about to call you.”
“Good,” I reply. “You’re on speaker in a meeting with all the guys and Tessa’s friend, Charlotte.”
“All right, so here’s where we’re at,” Danny starts. “We’ve talked to our contacts at the police station, and they refuse to share the video with the public until they complete their investigation, which is complete and utter bullshit. That’s why we’re ready to send it out to social media right now if you give us the green light. I’ve got our number here on the post for anyone with information to call.”
“We’re ready,” I instruct him. “Any objections?” I ask the guys as a courtesy, not that I really give a shit if they object.
“Do it,” Verek says, looking a little green.
“You okay, man?” I ask him.
“She was…I talked to her. We were dancing, right before,” he says as he stares at the screen of his phone.
“I know,” I tell him. “Danny, get the video out now. What else?”
“Like I mentioned before, we know it’s a North Carolina license plate, LVA eighteen-eighty-three.”
“That’s plenty to go off of. Have you run a search?” I ask.
“We have. The van is registered to Hessler’s Flooring Company in New Bern, and no surprise, it was reported stolen earlier this week.”
“Does Hessler have any video or anything showing who took it?”
“No. But we’re attempting to access some of the cameras in their neighborhood and here in the city to see if we can figure out where it went.” By ‘accessing’, I know he really means hacking. At this point, that may be all we can depend on since it was late and dark last night, probably flying under the radar as far as witnesses go.
“Anything else?”
“The four suspects appear to be white males in their twenties or thirties at most. The passenger has a black dagger tattoo on his lower right arm that he had resting in the open window. We’ll share the image with some tattoo artists in North and South Carolina to see if anyone recognizes their handiwork. If so, we may be able to get a name.”
“Great work, Danny. Keep at it and let us know if you get any calls with leads. Until then, the guys and I, along with our hired staff, will split up and start on either end of the city, checking every hotel, every residence for that van until we get more specifics from you. Email or text all the Kings with any updates.”
“Will do,” he says before ending the call.
“Everyone got that?” I ask the men at the table who all give a solemn nod. “Then divide up who is going where and get started. Nolan, contact all of our employees. Shut down businesses while they get out to search.”
“Shut them down?” Nolan repeats in surprise.
“Shut them down. It’s the off-season, and we can afford the temporary closures. Right now we need more eyes on the streets.”
“Will do, prez,” he agrees.
“Marcus, can you contact the other chapters in North and South Carolina? Send them the video, license plate number and dagger tattoo information and have them check the highways?”
“I’ll have the email going out within the next five minutes,” he confirms.
“What are you going to do?” Charlotte asks me softly.
“You and I are going to pay a visit to the police chief to see if we can get him off his ass.”
“Good,” she says.
“Meeting adjourned,” I announce before slamming down the gavel. “Everyone communicates in a group text or email with all updates. Maybe Nolan can get the information to Danny to put one together with all the staff and members.”
“On it,” he says.
Chapter Seven
Charlotte
I have to admit that I’m impressed. Roman is an amazing leader. He’s smart and thorough. It was impossible to miss the way the other guys at the table looked at him with respect and admiration in their eyes. Those men would do anything for Roman, which hopefully means they will do whatever it takes to find Tessa and bring her home safe.
“In here, you can lose your cool all you want,” Roman says when he parks his bike in front of the police station.
“Like you could stop me if you tried,” I tell him. “I’ve already