Page 33 of Jagger
“Okay. So, you were in the back country, taking photos, when you stumbled onto the house. Without knowing it, I believe you uncovered a house where trafficking victims were kept. Maybe long term, maybe for a few days, but whatever the case, after you gave your father the photo, he called Nitro.”
“And then Nitro began looking into the situation, and during his digging, he found their operation and Blur got wind of it. That’s when he . . . attacked Nitro,” I surmised, continuing the timeline.
“For the next few years, we looked for whoever was responsible for Nitro’s death, and I think it was after the connection to the reservation was discovered that Blur got scared and started making impulsive decisions,” Jagger pondered.
“Like kidnapping Cheyenne and that poor girl,” I tacked on, and we both sat silent for a moment. “I don’t want to ask about club business, but I have a few questions.” He rolled his hand, so I asked, “How did Blur discover that Nitro was looking into this? I mean, Phantom didn’t know, he didn’t ask for your help, and he kept Trent in the dark.”
Picking up this laptop, he remarked, “That’s a good question.” He opened a Word document and began to type the question out. “What else is uncertain?”
“Well,” I began and stood. I thought better when I moved around, so I began to pace in front of the bed as I spoke out loud. “Where were the women being sent to? Who’s helping him?Where is Blur now? Why is he moving back this way when the Bastards know he’s got a target on his back?”
“All good questions,” Jagger remarked as he typed away on his computer. “Can I ask something?” I nodded. “Did you recognize the house in the picture that was sent to you?”
I shook my head instinctively but stopped to think about that question. I’d spent the last few years crisscrossing South Dakota and parts of North Dakota, capturing images of the lives of Native Americans on the reservations. I’d seen hundreds—hell, probably thousands—of houses, trailers, and shacks being used for homes.
“Do you still have it?” I asked, and he nodded before standing and retrieving it from the inside pocket of his cut.
He handed it to me and took a seat back on the bed as he watched me inspect the image. I was able to glean some information from it, but not enough to tell where it was.
“This was taken in North Dakota.” He stood and looked as I pointed to the background. “The two states look the same, but North Dakota has more trees. And this is a wildflower native to the north. You may see it close to the border between the states, but I’ve never seen this flower on the south reservations, only the few I’ve visited in the north. And unless something has changed, the permit sticker on this trailer is from North Dakota.”
“Why would someone send you a picture of some random trailers in North Dakota?” I shrugged, and he slipped the picture back into his cut.
“Can we talk about Blur?” I inquired.
Jagger’s face twisted, and I could tell he didn’t want to discuss him, but if we were looking for him and the Bastards still had him under protection, then maybe we needed to dig deeper and figure out why Jamison was protecting him. I’d never met the Royal Bastards National President, but I’d heard he’s anarcistic fucker who thought he was better than everyone else, pushing edicts onto chapters that he didn’t follow himself.
“I’ll tell you what I know, but I don’t think talking about him is going to get us anywhere,” Jagger remarked.
He moved his cut from the back of his chair to a hook on the front door, then he lifted the clothes and placed them back onto the bed. We both took our seats at the table, and I tried to think of where to start.
“The Bastards are still protecting him?” Jagger nodded. “And no one can figure out why?”
“Normally, I won’t walk about club business, but we’re Sinners Revenge now, so speaking of the Royal Bastards isn’t violating my oath.” He took my hands and began to explain. “Jamison, the National President, when presented with the information that Blur was responsible for Nitro’s death, told us to back off and leave him alone. That’s what facilitated the change in colors. We couldn’t figure out why someone like Jamison would protect a random brother from a chapter he never even bothered to step foot into. So, we asked Roughstock’s cousin, Jackal, to speak with his friends and see if he could help us locate Blur.”
“The Callahans?” I asked, and he nodded.
“The brothers were able to uncover a few details about Blur. He was adopted from Mississippi when he was three, and his adoptive parents moved to Louisiana when he was around eight, I think. He left the south and came up this way when he was in his twenties. That was a few years before the purge of the Bastards, when Jamison was run out of the country and quite a few brothers were killed.”
“And Jamison won’t tell Roughstock why he’s protecting Blur?”
“He won’t tell anyone anything. He plays his cards close to his chest, uses people for his own personal gain, then finds newlackies to kiss his ass and make him feel important. Honestly, I met him one time, wasn’t impressed with him, and didn’t care if I ever saw him again.” He paused before speaking again. “The Callahans sent someone to New Orleans to meet with Blur’s adoptive brother, the only family he had left, and his brother was as shocked as you would imagine at hearing what his brother was into.”
“And he didn’t know anything about Jamison?” I asked.
“What are you thinking?” Jagger asked me, but I hesitated before answering.
“If it’s not his adoptive family that connects him to Jamison, could it possibly be his birth family? I mean, what if Blur discovered his real family and uncovered a connection that we’re not seeing?”
He lifted one cheek in a half-smile and leaned over to kiss me softly. “I never gave one thought to his real family.”
He sat back down as I reasoned, “It’s the only piece of the puzzle that doesn’t have any information. I may be far off base, but I would suggest investigating his birth family to see who they are.”
“I’ll send the Callahans a message right now,” Jagger remarked as he pulled his phone out and began typing away.
My mind started spinning, trying to place the house from the picture. On impulse, I stood and grabbed my backpack before returning to my seat. Jagger was watching me as I pulled out my computer and started it.
“What’s going on, darlin’?”
