Thrill Seeker (Kings of Vengeance MC Book 5) - Winter Travers Page 0,4

drug ring, and then my mind had wandered to a certain biker as Marty looked over the papers. Point had been taking over my thoughts ever since Friday. “Uh, because my informant is telling me something big is happening.” At least that was what he was hinting at.

Focus, Deedra. An ex suddenly popping up shouldn’t be throwing me off my game this much even if that ex wasn’t really my ex and was still my husband, legally.

“And you want me to believe a crackhead on the street that you buy sandwiches for in exchange for information is actually a reliable source?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s recovering and moving into a studio apartment next month.”

“So, next month, you are going to have to find another guy on the wrong side of the law to buy sandwiches for?” Marty laughed.

“You’re an insensitive ass, Marty,” I hissed.

He shrugged and sat back in his chair. “I am, but that’s probably why I’m sitting where I am, and you’re buying sandwiches with the hopes you’ll get your next story.” He nodded to the board to the side. “Which you don’t need to do since we have a damn board with more than enough stories for you to cover.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not interested in fluff, Marty. That was the reason you hired me. I remember you saying you liked my tenacity and eagerness to get the story.” Pretty sure Marty just wanted someone with a little bit more gumption than Tim had. I fit that bill ten times over.

“Yeah, I did,” Marty agreed. “Though I didn’t think you would be hitting the fucking streets sniffing out stories the police don’t even know about.”

That never was my plan, either, but I couldn’t stand reporting on a story that everyone already knew about. Don’t get me wrong, I did handle fluff stories, but I was looking for a more hard-hitting one while I was doing those. I loved covering the story about Queenie because though it had a happy ending, the twist and turns it took to get there were fascinating. No one could have predicted that Bella and Jimmy Clark, the owners of King Donuts, not only killed their grandson’s mother but were also huge in the production and distribution of meth.

Fucking crazy shit.

Crazy shit I loved reporting about.

And now it was going to be even more crazy because I had a hunch that someone was moving in to take over from the Clarks. As much as I wished the drug scene in Whitmore would disappear, I also wasn’t naïve. The drugs weren’t going anywhere and someone new was coming in to see to it.

“I’m doing my job, Marty. The thing you pay me for.”

Marty nodded to the papers in my hand. “You can’t run with what you have there, Deedra. I need something more concrete than hearsay. Facts. I need facts. What you have there is a damn wish and a prayer.”

I was giving him facts. Just because they weren’t coming from the damn police didn’t mean that they weren’t true. “I get you something more…and I can report it?”

He waved his hand at me. “Yeah, but I need you to grab a couple of stories from the board while you’re trying to scrounge up something from the gutter.”

I rolled my eyes and stood. “Yeah, well, we’ll see if you have that same attitude in a few days.” I was going to get this story. I was going to be the first one to report on it because I was going to watch it happen.

Marty pointed to the board. “Three. I need you to do three of those, and then I’ll have my week filled with stories.”

I wrinkled my nose and marched over to the board. Fluff and more fluff. I grabbed the first three stories in my reach. No matter what they were, I knew I could handle them. “I’ll have them for you by tomorrow.”

Normally, the other reporters took two or three days to do one story. I wasn’t going to take that long to do these. The sooner I got them completed, the sooner I could get back to reporting on news that really mattered.

“Not the ones I thought you would pick, but whatever,” Marty chuckled.

I looked down at the crumbled pieces of paper in my hand. “What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded. As if there were any stories on that board that were better than others.

Marty chuckled. “Hank Denise’s giant pumpkin, potholes on Main Street, and the overcrowding