Page 17 of Finn (Dirty Misfits MC 6)
But, my sister and possibly my niece were involved in this shit. So, I had no choice but to help if I wanted to protect them in the process.
And if keeping them safe meant bending a few of the rules to suit my pleasure, then so be it.
After pulling myself together I got out my laptop and logged onto the internet. I used the access codes the woman at the front desk had been authorized to give me which gave me entrance into the police department database. It housed everything I needed, including digital copies of the physical copies I had sitting behind me on the desk.
Which meant I could take those things back and be done with it.
Nevertheless, I wanted to check the information in the physical files against the digital ones just to make sure everything was the same, because sometimes those dirty rotten little excuses for cops sometimes changed some things around. Physical files were quickly going out of style due to databases like this, which meant that cops could sometimes fudge the digital records since it took too much time to compare digital to physical.
But, I’d take the time just to make sure.
As I read through the files and fact-checked them against what was on my screen, I started seeing some serious flags being thrown up. For instance, it was very easy to come to the conclusion that while the Black Flags and the Dirty Misfits were both biker gangs, the Black Flags were certainly rougher around the edges. But, that also meant that the Dirty Misfits might simply be better at cleaning up their messes before the police got involved.
I can’t stay here. I have to get into a hotel.
Dinner flew by without an ounce of food eaten as I lost myself within the pages of the files. The more I fact-checked, the more I saw these guys for what they really were. These Dirty little Misfits had a few open cases, and one of them were murder charges because some Black Flags guys turned up dead in the middle of the street, essentially.
But, yet again, the local department didn’t have enough proof to arrest any of them.
“Jesus,” I said breathlessly.
I wondered if Summer knew about those charges.
The more I dug, though, the more curious I became, and soon my train of thought turned from fact-checking files to digging shit up on Finn. He was a strange nut, that was for certain, and come to find out that the police department had a massive file on him. Easily thirty-plus pages of information dating all the way back to his teenage years.
I saw that he did a stint in juvie for stealing. I saw that he did yet another stint in juvie a second time around for something in his file that had been redacted. It was very unusual for a digital file to be redacted like that, and as I kept flipping through his file on my laptop I noticed that most of his shit past page ten was fully redacted.
Before all charges against him had been dropped.
What did you get yourself into, little Finn?
I saw that his father helped pay for his record to be expunged and the process had almost been escalated to the front. And the second I saw the check his father had written, I laughed out loud. Now, it all made sense. The house on the beach that was practically a mansion. This weird disdain he had for people who looked down on him.
Finn was nothing more than some rich little kid that rebelled, and when he got himself into trouble Daddy swept in to clean up the mess.
“Typical,” I murmured.
Then, I came across something very, very curious.
“What the fuck?” I whispered.
I came across a file with Finn’s name on it that wasn’t attached to his original file at all. In fact, it was underneath the heading of cold cases within the police database. My eyes widened as I read the few pages inserted into the file. Apparently, at eighteen years old, some girl named Melody died and all of the clues somehow led to him being her killer.
There was an arrest date in the file, but the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence on the prosecution’s side. Eventually, the case was dropped less than a year later, but I didn’t see a check or anything that his father had written to pay off the judge.
“Guess Daddy’s money can’t cover up murder,” I mumbled.
It angered me, though. As I slammed my laptop closed, I wasted no time in packing everything back up. I was living under a roof with literal criminals. Literal murderers! And if Summer wanted to choose this life for herself, that was fine. She could do that. But, I had every right to protect not only myself, but my niece.
