The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,55
fucking plate.”
I follow him back into the meeting room and sure enough there’s a bundle of blankets and skinny little limbs sprawled out on the couch behind his seat. She doesn’t wake at us sitting down and when I raise an eyebrow at the Boar he shrugs.
“She’s grown up in this life, she won’t wake unless you forget your damn head and start yelling.”
I nod. I’m not going to do that shit, especially if he’s going to finally start playing ball. “I didn’t know you have family.”
He shrugs. “I don’t. My nephew dropped her off, something big came up. You tell anyone about her and you’ll be skinned alive.”
Like he could fucking kill me, let alone manage to kill me like that. No fucking way. “I don’t care about some kid. Tell me what the job is.”
He shifts around and pulls a folded, discolored piece of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans. I take it and open it up, only to find a newspaper cutout with dozens of faces on it. The headline reads ‘No Leads on the Lily Heart Killer’.
Fuck. I squint at the faces for a second longer until I find the woman I’d stumbled on weeks ago, her chest cracked open and the flower planted in the cavity, dirt and roots where her organs should have been.
What the fuck would the fucking Boar want with this?
He lights up a hand rolled cigarette and takes a deep sip from his glass. “Two more have been found but this time they were here in the Bay. The inner city morgue has files on their autopsies. I want them. I know you have an in with the medical examiner.”
I shrug, not at all worried about being casual around this asshole. “So what? This isn’t the kind of job that you need me for. Plenty of guys in the Bay with an in.”
He leans back in his seat, sucking on his cigarette like it’s keeping him alive, not slowly shaving minutes from the clock. “This is something I don’t want my guys knowing about. This isn’t something for the club. I have skin in the game.”
I light up my own cigarette, glancing at the kid but the blankets haven’t moved an inch. “Right. So I get those reports and you give me the men. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He blows out a thick stream of smoke and nods. “I need them before Sunday so this is a priority. The FBI is heading in to take over and then you’ll lose your chance. None of us need to be dealing with Feds.”
Fuck no. I nod and empty the last of the Johnnie from my glass. I slide the newspaper clipping back to him and he takes it.
“Whoever is doing it isn’t from around here. The handiwork isn’t something local.”
The Boar’s eyes narrow. “What would you know about the handiwork?”
I stub out my cigarette and stand up, the chair scraping softly against the wood flooring. “I’ve seen one up close, a few weeks back. What does a biker Prez care about a fucking serial killer, anyway?”
The Boar shrugs. “That’s none of your concern. All you need to worry about is getting me that file.”
Fuck. Morgues are a nightmare to get in and out of. Not impossible, just a fuck load more security than I like to deal with even when you have an in. My side of the Bay doesn’t bother with that kind of shit. Nah, out here you have to watch out for the eyes of street kids and the homeless. Easy enough to pay off.
Looks like I have to call that dickhead the Coyote again.
I get to the door before the Boar calls out to stop me.
“Butcher.”
I turn and look back at him. He looks fucking old sitting there, like every year of being the Boar and the President adds fucking twenty to his soul.
“What are your plans with the Wolf?”
I swear, the second he says her codename all the calm melts off of me and is replaced with rage. “My plans are to keep her alive and out of Mounts Bay. If you value your life you’ll plan the same fucking thing. If I find out you’re giving her bad jobs or threatening her… I’ll be doing the skinning, Boar. You keep the fuck away from her.”
At the rising of my voice I see a little arm in the pile move, as if the little girl is covering her ears, but I can’t feel guilt right now.