Page 74 of Rough Stock
“Oh, that rodeo guy? I seen him come in here last night. He thinks he’s the cock o’ the walk, don’t he?” the woman said with a disgusted sneer on her face.
“Yeah. He’s a real piece o’ work. And I need that money. I think he’s spendin’ it on girls. I’m purty sure that’s his truck out back. I’d sure like to surprise him, if ya know what I mean.”
The girl snorted again. “Room one-oh-three. I seen ’im goin’ out ’bout a hour ago. With some fancy man in a suit and glasses.”
The Zesser guy, Shyanna thought. “Yeah. That’s him and that no-count lawyer of his, damn shyster.”
“Well, good luck. I’m bettin’ he done spent all his money, but I hope you rattle his chain good,” Rachel said.
“Thanks. I get that money, I’ll come back and take ya for a burger, how’s that?” Shyanna said with a tiny smile.
“That’d be nice,” the young woman said, and Shyanna waved to her as she headed out the door.
“Any luck?” Amber asked when she slipped into the car.
“Oh, yeah. Room one-oh-three.”
“What now?”
Shyanna chuckled. “I’m opening that door.”
“You can’t kick that one in,” Amos warned. “Everybody will hear you.”
“No, but I can still get it open,” she said and pulled the picks from her pocket with a flourish.
“Good deal. Let’s go,” Amber chirped and drove around the building.
Amos stood watch at the corner of the building while Shyanna picked the lock on the door and Amber sat there in the car, ready to move. When the door opened, Shyanna was unprepared for what she saw.
Boxes and boxes. Opening the one nearest the door, she found dozens of bottles of something. She used her phone as a flashlight and took a look at one of them:Oxycodone ER. 80 mg.The label had a huge red “X” drawn across it and as she looked through the box, she realized all of them were marked that way. Closing the flap on the top, she noticed a label.
QC Reject.
“Holy shit,” she muttered out loud. Swinging the phone’s flashlight beam around the room, she tried to count the boxes and couldn’t. There were just too many, with only a tiny walkway left to get to the bed, the desk, and the bathroom. She used her phone to snap several pics of the boxes and even the room, its flash working overtime in the darkened interior.
Slipping back into the front seat, they waited while Amos ran to the car and jumped in. When she’d backed out of the space and headed out, Amber asked, “Well?”
“Drugs. They’re everywhere. I knew he was fucking selling them at the events, but I had no idea how much. There’s hundreds of thousands of dollars in drugs in there.”
“Cocaine?”
“No. Oxycodone. Quality control rejects. That suit is getting them out of there somehow and recycling them as street drugs. They’re in this together,” Shyanna said, overwhelmed.
“Here. It’s SammyJo,” Amber said, handing her phone to Shyanna again.
“Whatcha got?” Shyanna asked.
“Max is in the diner. And there’s this guy in a suit in there with him,” she reported.
“Glasses? Kinda thinning hair on top?”
“Yeah! Long, sad-looking face,” SammyJo said.
“That’s him.” Shyanna thought for a minute. “We’re coming, but we’re going to the other side of the parking lot. Let me know if they move before we get there.”
SammyJo agreed and they slipped across the street and parked in the opposite end of the lot from SammyJo. They hadn’t been there long when the suit came out and walked to a car, and Shyanna called SammyJo. “I’ve got the suit. Watch and call me when Max heads back to the motel.”
“Yes, ma’am,” SammyJo answered before ending the call.
