Page 17 of Rattler’s Revelation (Demon Dawgs MC: Las Vegas #6)

Taylor leads us to the storage facility where the AirTag still pings its location.

It’s a standard facility with several rows of units, each requiring the renter to provide their own lock for the unit.

The main building features a banner displaying rates by square footage and highlighting amenities.

The internal units offer air conditioning and come at a premium.

The cheaper units are outside. Luckily for us, the unit we’re searching for is located at the front of the property and is easily visible from the street.

Taylor leads us to it. On the sliding garage-style door is a heavy-duty padlock.

Randy eyes the lock before glancing around. “I need to call Rafe and see how he wants to proceed. Rattler, can you locate the manager and bring him out here?”

I nod as I head for the door marked ‘Office’.

As I walk, I pull out my cell phone and call Puma.

I give him a rundown on what we’ve learned and where we are.

“Randy is calling Rafe so he can meet us here. They’re likely to need a warrant to gain access to the storage unit.

I’m locating the manager, and I’m going to ask if he can give us any information on who’s paying for the unit. ”

“Good idea. I see Rafe on the phone. I’ll join him when he leaves to meet with you. This is a good lead. We don’t want to lose it.”

Opening the office door, I get some relief from the heat in the cool air-conditioned room. A long counter stands to the side. On it is a wire basket holding a few papers, a telephone, and a computer. Behind the counter stands a young man whose eyes widen when he sees me.

“Hey,” I say as I approach the counter. “I’m wondering if you can help me.”

“Did you lose your key again?” the kid asks as he grabs a clipboard off the wall behind him and shoves it my direction, along with a pen. “Fill out the form and I’ll grab the bolt cutters.”

I consider my play. The kid has mistaken me for my cousin.

I could go along with it and get him to open the unit.

If it were just me, that’s what I’d do, but Randy is with me, and he’s a cop.

I’m pretty sure that impersonating my cousin to gain illegal entrance to the storage unit wouldn’t go over well.

However, that doesn’t mean I can’t get information.

“I don’t need the bolt cutters, Stevie,” I tell him, taking in the name on his shirt. “I’m not Walt Turner. He’s my cousin. I need to confirm that he’s the one renting unit 134.”

Stevie studies me before nodding. “He is. Is there a problem?”

“There is. Look, I’m here with a cop, and we want to gain access to that unit.”

Stevie looks pained by my comment. “I can’t just let you have access. You said you were with a cop. Can he get a warrant?”

“I think he’s working on it. You can come out and meet him, but first, who is on the rental agreement? Is it just Walt Turner?”

“Walt Turner and Tommy Lunz,” Stevie confirms after he checks the record on the computer. “They rented it four months ago.”

“Can you give me a copy of their data?”

Stevie seems reluctant, but he returns his attention to the computer, and a few keystrokes later, I hear the sound of a printer whirring behind the counter.

Stevie reaches down and comes back with a sheet of paper that he hands to me.

I review the document and see that instead of an address, I find a P.O.

Box number. Damn. “Thanks, Stevie. Go ahead and grab the bolt cutter and come with me.”

Stevie does what I say and joins me outside.

“You’re a member of the Demon Dawgs, right? Not just an employee at 1%?” Stevie asks.

“Yeah, I’m a Demon Dawg. Why?”

“Walt and Tommy used to wear kuttes, too, only they wore the casino kuttes. Walt told me he and Tommy were members of your club, but I knew they were lying. There’s no way those guys were Demon Dawgs.”

“You knew, huh?” I ask with a smirk. Stevie’s enthusiasm is amusing. He reminds me of a puppy as he scampers to keep up with my long strides.

“I go to the casino sometimes. I like it. Plus, the girls are hot. I’ve seen several members of your club there, along with the Shadow Borns. They all have a swagger—even the chicks. I know you have some girls as club members. What’s that like? Doesn’t that bother you?”

I frown at him. “No, why would it? Chill is a cold bitch who terrifies every man she faces off against. Viper is the same. She’s fought off groups of men who thought it was a good idea to gang up on her—she wiped the floor with them. They’ve both earned their kuttes.”

Stevie nods. “I heard Walt and Tommy talking about them one day at the casino. Viper walked by. She’s fucking hot, by the way. Have you two ever…” His voice trails off in a grunt when I fist his shirt and slam him into the nearest wall.

“Watch your fucking mouth. She’s my sister, you dipshit.”

“Oh, sorry, man! Don’t kill me. I didn’t know.”

I release him and push him away from me. “Now you know. I wouldn’t fuck with her if I were you. She has a man. He’s a cop. However, she’s the one you need to be afraid of. She knows how to turn a man into a blubbering mess, and she’ll make you wish you were dead. Don’t fuck with her.”

“I wouldn’t!” Stevie blubbers. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just think she’s beautiful. She’s probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“She is,” I agree, although when my eyes fall on Bianca, I know who I consider to be the most beautiful.

“Bianca…” Stevie whispers in awe as he straightens his shirt and his hair.

I glare down at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Nothing….” he stammers, but his eyes fly back to Bianca. “It’s just, Bianca…”

He says her name with the same reverence and longing that I feel.

“Stevie, I didn’t know you worked here,” Bianca says as we approach.

“Hi, Bianca. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with Rattler and Randy. We’re looking into the disappearance of some of the girls from 1%. Are you going to help us?”

“I don’t understand,” Stevie starts, his eyes bouncing from Bianca to me.

Bianca tells Stevie about the missing women while I move to join Taylor and Randy. “Is Rafe on the way?”

Randy nods. “He’s calling around to get a warrant.”

“Puma’s on his way, too,” I say as the roar of multiple motorcycles gets closer. “That’s probably him.”

Stevie’s eyes widen again when Puma, Chill, Spark, and Viper arrive.

On the back of Viper’s bike is Rafe. Rafe climbs off and moves directly to Stevie.

In his hand is a piece of paper. “Are you the manager?” When Stevie nods, Rafe hands the paper to him.

“This is a warrant that allows us to enter this storage unit.”

Stevie takes the warrant and barely glances at it before handing the bolt cutters to him. Rafe shakes his head and nods at the lock. “I’ll need you to do it.”

Stevie steps over to the unit and snaps off the lock. He backs away so Rafe and Randy can roll the door up and out of the way. They take out flashlights and swing the beam of light around the room.

“There’s a light switch inside to the right,” Stevie says.

When Rafe flips on the light, we find a sea of boxes filling half the space.

They’re packed from floor to ceiling. Each box is packed so tightly that there is no way to reach the back wall.

Rafe slaps on a pair of gloves before opening the nearest box.

Inside is a mishmash collection of items. It appears that someone threw in a variety of items, including books, clothes, photos, shoes, and other miscellaneous items, without regard for their contents.

Rafe reaches inside and pulls out a small frame containing a picture of two women laughing at the camera, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists.

He hands the frame to Randy. “See if Bianca recognizes her.” He returns to searching through the box.

He thumbs through the books and examines other items before putting everything back into the box and moving on to the next.

Randy studies the photo before showing it to Bianca. Bianca’s gasp draws our attention.

“Do you recognize her?” Randy asks.

Bianca nods as she studies the image. “It’s Morgan Clacker. I didn’t know her all that well, but I had talked to her about the Fake Max. She turned in her notice a few days before I did. I last saw her two days ago. She was leaving when I was arriving for my shift.”

“I remember that name. It was on the list Brigit gave us,” Rafe says. “We need to track these guys back to where they’re hiding out. Stevie, did they give you an address?”

“No, just a P.O. Box,” I respond. “They left a phone number. Have you ever called it?”

“No. Do you want me to try calling? What should I say? Should I tell them you executed a warrant?” Stevie yammers.

Puma and Rafe share a look before Rafe shrugs. “Don’t tell them about the warrant if you can avoid it. Call and report that someone has cut the lock off,” Puma suggests.

Stevie runs off toward the office, while we wait.

“Why don’t you want to tell them about the warrant?” Bianca asks.

“We don’t want to scare them away. If they know the cops are watching the unit, they’ll likely just abandon it rather than risk getting picked up by the cops,” Puma explains.

Bianca nods as she stifles a yawn. “Tired?” I ask her, pulling her so she can lean against me.

“A little,” she responds.

“You can head back to the clubhouse,” Puma says. “We can take it from here. You did well finding this place.”

“Taylor found it. If he hadn’t been worried about Christine, we’d never have known where to look,” Randy says.

“I want to help you find these bastards,” Taylor says. “I have access to top-of-the-line surveillance equipment and trained men. If you need help following these guys, I have drones we can use.”

“We’ll likely take you up on your offer,” Puma says, shaking Taylor’s hand.