Jagger awoke the next morning to his phone ringing incessantly. The first time he reached over and shut it off. In seconds it rang again.
"I think someone is really tryin' to get in touch with you," Bianca grumbled, putting her head under her pillow.
It wasn't his pre-pay so Jagger knew it wasn't Liam or one of the other members of the club. "Somebody better be fuckin' dead. It's 5 a.m.," he growled into the phone.
"Sorry, but I figured you would want to hear this."
Jagger recognized Rooster's voice, and just like that he was awake and sitting up, his mind working on all cylinders. "Talk to me."
"I took my suspicions to my superiors yesterday. With what evidence we had—I embellished where yours came from slightly—they issued a search warrant for Raymond Tucker's house and his office
