Leave a Trail (31 page)

“And does
that
help or hurt us?”

No one had an answer.

“We need to know, brothers. We need our eyes wide open. Dom—you’re on that intel, too. But for now, we got more to talk about. Because we got shit flyin’ at us from all sides these days. Show—news on the fire.”

“Investigation is done. They’re sayin’ inconclusive for arson. Sniffed around us for insurance fraud, but they came up empty—since we didn’t fuckin’ blow up our own place. Now I guess Lilli and Shannon are gonna have to wrangle with the insurance, get a payout.”

“We’re rebuilding, right?”

Isaac laughed. “Fuck, Badge. Lilli would’ve had us out there when the damn place was still smoldering if we’d’ve had the jack to get started. Yeah, we’re rebuilding. And the town is in. Strange to say it, with all we lost, but that fire had an upside. I still think somebody set it—that full cancellation is hanging me up—and I want to know who. But I’m glad that one good thing happened. Having everybody working together on that fire reminded people what we do for our town, I guess. Seems like things are back to normal in that respect.”

“Long as we keep our shit out of town, anyway.”

Isaac nodded at Show’s observation. Badger also thought Show was right. They shouldn’t get too comfortable in the town’s regard. They had people outside the club who’d lost kin to club violence, and they had people calling themselves townsfolk now who’d only lived in Signal Bend a couple of years. People who didn’t know the way of things. The days of the Horde being the undisputed leaders of the town were coming to an end, at least in the way they had been.

“Next up: Seaver. Dom, tell the table what you and Lilli have on this code idea.”

“Yeah, boss. We got distracted by the fire, so we’re still working on it. But it for sure is a code. Lilli thinks he’s talking to a Fed, but we don’t have much detail yet. Maybe this is why it looked like the Feds dropped their convo with Seaver—because they moved to a code and bounced their transmissions. That could be trouble. But one thing we haven’t picked up yet is any clear mention of the club—Lilli says that doesn’t mean anything, though. They could have a code inside the code…or something like that. She knows better what that means. Anyway, we’re on it.”

As he tried to sort and stack all the information reeling through his head, something occurred to Badger. “Wait, boss. Anybody think it’s strange that there was a bomb that destroyed the Scorps LA clubhouse not long after we had an explosion at the B&B? That’s a big-ass coincidence, right?”

Isaac gave him a keenly interested look. “It is indeed. Keep talkin’.”

He hadn’t thought this out any more than he had the cartel stuff—less—but he talked it out. “I’m just hearing about the bomb in LA, so I’m just playing out an idea. But like we said before, coincidences aren’t so easy to swallow. So is there a way the fires are related?”

Show ran his hand over his chin and beard. “What’s the link? We know Sam’s behind LA. What’s his interest here?”

“Only two things link Signal Bend to LA: Bart and the cartel.” Isaac’s brows drew together.

“Well, we know Bart didn’t blow the B&B.”

Isaac nodded. “Obviously. But why would the cartel? We’re behavin’, by all appearances. They got no beef with us. There’s been no opening yet to stand against them.”

“You think they know the bug is dummied?”

The whole table stared silently at Badger’s question. They’d discovered months back—not long after Havoc had been killed—that the Perros had bugged the duffels in which the Horde took their payment. Since then, they’d held decoy meetings before their weekly meetings so the cartel wouldn’t know the bugs had been discovered. The Horde had not yet found a way to use that deception to fight back against the Perros and maybe exact revenge for what Julio Santaveria and his men had perpetrated on the Horde.

Sighing heavily, as though the thought behind Badger’s question took more energy than he could muster, Isaac looked over the table. “If Santaveria knows that the bug is recording bullshit, then we’re sitting on a different kind of bomb, and we’ll have no fucking idea when it’ll blow.”

Still working it through, Badger tried another idea. “What if it’s not the Perros? What if it’s just Sam?”

Len sat forward and put a hand on Badger’s arm, as if to restrain him. “No. We’re overthinking this, getting ourselves wrapped around the spokes. No reason for Santaveria or Sam to blow the B&B. Sam is fighting a war in LA. Not here. And Santaveria wouldn’t’ve cleared the place out first. We’re trying to see a conspiracy, and we’re snatching at straw. Who has any reason at all to want to blow the B&B? To what end?”

“You got an answer to that yourself, Len?”

“Maybe I do, boss. We had trouble in our own yard. People stirring up against us. Don Mariano. Jimmy Sullivan. Mac Evans. Others. Maybe they were just trying to hurt us.”

“One of our own? Killed Beth?” Though the idea had been raised before, it had been quickly set aside. With it under serious consideration, Show’s face showed shock and outrage in equal measure.

“Maybe that was a mistake. Maybe they thought with the place empty, she wouldn’t be there.”

Isaac shook his head. “Somebody would’ve needed to turn the oven on, though. I don’t see anybody in town putting Beth’s life at risk. It’s not somebody that close. But you’re right. We’re stretching pretty far to find a reason for Sam or the Perros to do it.”

It came to Badger as Isaac finished that sentence. “Somebody who maybe thought the town would see it as more club violence—and remind them of the fire before. Who thought it would turn the town against us all the way. Somebody with an interest in making us weak. Somebody who just saw the town standing with us after all, when he thought we’d already lost them. It
is
Seaver. It’s got to be Seaver.” Echoing in the back of his head, Badger heard the Sheriff asking
Where’s the fire?

Again, the table went still and silent, tension crackling, at Badger’s words. Then Isaac turned to Dom. “Brother, you and Lilli have got to get some clarity on that code. And dig deeper into Seaver. We need to know what that uniformed fuck is up to, and we need some kind of fuckin’ leverage we can use. Badge makes a strong case.”

Dom nodded, looking pale and stressed. The burden that Isaac had laid on his narrow shoulders was heavy—the Scorpions, the Perros, the Sheriff, all of it high priority. The Horde’s enemies were many and formidable these days.

Isaac scanned the table. “In the meantime, we are still on our best behavior. Do not let your guard down, brothers.” He sighed. “Let’s wrap this up with some good news. It’s in short enough supply. Badge—your old lady. She’s home. Doin’ good?”

His old lady. Was Adrienne his old lady? He liked the sound of it. But they’d never talked about the future, except to say they wanted to be together ‘forever.’ He couldn’t ask her for more yet. She was too new in her post-father, post-fire, clean-slate life.

But he saw no need to correct Isaac. Before he answered, though, he glanced at Show, who was regarding him with interest but without malice. Show was on their side. In the time that Adrienne, Shannon, and the babies were all home, in fact, the six of them had become a pretty tight group. Show and Badger, in full protector/caretaker mode, were a team now.

“Yeah. She’s home, we’re set up. She’s doing pretty good. Better every day.” He thought about this morning, holding her up, feeling her come, and he smiled.

Isaac gave him a sideways look that made him think his smile had been more revealing than he’d intended. “Excellent. And Show. How’s your brood?”

Badger shifted his gaze to Show and found the big man staring steadily at him. That smile had indeed been too revealing. But then Show cleared his throat and answered Isaac’s question. “Rose and Iris are back with their mom. Shannon and the twins are doing good. Kids are finally starting to plump up.” He looked around the table. “You can come over and see ‘em now. And we got their christening in a couple weeks.”

“Shannon’s good?”

“Yeah, she is. It’s an adjustment, no doubt about it, but we’re good. Real good.”

“Nice to take a minute and remember why we do this shit. And I think it’s time we put guards with our women. Lilli, Shannon, Cory, Tasha, Adrienne. All the kids. When we’re not with our own, then they have a buddy.”

Show said, “We can’t spread that thin, Isaac. Only have two Prospects.”

Isaac glowered, but he nodded. “Badge—any problem with Adrienne hanging out with Shannon and the twins?”

“I doubt it. They’re together most of the time now, anyway.”

“Good. Double A, you’re on Show’s house. We’ll put Thumper with Tasha. Cory can stick with Lilli—I’ll talk to them both—and we’ll put Kellen on them. Nolan can shoot, too. He’s a good shot.”

“He’s still a kid, Isaac.”

“He wants to prospect when he turns eighteen. That’s only six-seven months from now. He can learn a thing in the meanwhile. He’ll have Kellen and Lilli both up front.”

Show nodded, persuaded.

“Okay. Next weed run is in five days. Badge, Tommy, Len, and me. Otherwise, back to our day jobs, back to town business. Everybody stay sharp.” Isaac gaveled the meeting to a close.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Reverend Mortensen stood in front of the altar, with Show and Shannon and Lilli and Isaac. Lilli and Isaac each held one of the twins. The rest of the Horde and their family were arrayed in the first row, on both sides of the aisle. Most of the town nearly filled the remaining pews. Adrienne sat next to Badger, with Bo and Gia squirming between her and Cory. Loki, who’d had his first birthday a few weeks ago, was sleeping in his mother’s arms.

Show and Isaac were in good jeans and white button-down shirts, their kuttes and boots shiny-clean. Lilli wore sleek black slacks and a sleeveless light grey top in what Adrienne thought was raw silk. Shannon wore a pretty green dress, a little on the loose side. She’d always been voluptuously curvy, like Marilyn Monroe or something, and had always dressed to accentuate what she had, but she was bigger since the babies and self-conscious about it in a way she’d never been before.

Adrienne didn’t think she had anything to worry about. Not only had she just had
twins
, for Pete’s sake, but Show obviously loved her body. He couldn’t keep his hands off her since the babies, even more than usual—which was saying something. Those two had always been embarrassing with the PDA. Leaning toward gross, sometimes.

The baptism was almost over. The twins, in their pretty, white satin outfits, had been sprinkled, and everybody had said their various vows. Isaac and Lilli didn’t strike Adrienne as particularly religious people, and Adrienne knew that Show and Shannon weren’t, not overtly. But Show had been raised in this church. It was the only church in town, and Adrienne had been here long enough to know it was an important place. If the Horde was the heart of Signal Bend, then St. John’s Methodist Church was its soul.

She also knew that Show wanted this ritual because it would have made his mother happy.

Adrienne herself had not been raised with any religion at all. Her family had been completely secular, and she found it impossible to get her mind to work in a way that would make room for something like faith in a higher power. She quite simply did not believe there was such a thing, but she was fascinated by the power of faith and the way, for some believers, it governed everything about their lives, and, for others, it seemed to be a passive thing, with no real impact on the way the lived, but an uplifting set of rituals and expectations. Not unlike the way her family had started every dinner each sharing one thing they’d learned that day—which was, she supposed, a kind of grace.

She’d been to different churches a few times with friends, something her parents had supported as opportunities to learn about other ways of thinking. Going to church had always been very like a trip to a museum—a tiny slice of experience with an exotic culture. Adrienne was captivated by the rituals of faith. Sometimes, she felt like she’d missed something by not learning to have faith. For her, the world was as it was, with no cause or reason beyond the people living in it and acting on it. Most days, that was comforting, because she didn’t understand how people could love a god who would ignore the suffering of innocents that went on all over the world. But sometimes, when she felt especially low or scared, she understood that it would be nice to believe there was someplace better in the future. She could see how rituals like this were reassuring in that way.

Bo kicked her good leg as he turned to try to climb down from the pew, bringing her back to the moment. As she caught him and set him back on his bottom, the Reverend, in his white robe and green satin stole, raised his hands. “The God of all grace, who has called us to eternal glory in Christ, establish you and strengthen you by the power of the Holy Spirit, that you may live in grace and peace.”

He laid a hand upon each tiny head and then looked out over the congregation. “And now, let us all welcome Joseph Eugene Ryan and Camille Margaret Ryan into the family of Christ.”

The organ began to play, and everyone stood and opened their hymnals. Holding Bo’s hand, Adrienne looked on with Badger and sang along to a song she did not know.

~oOo~

“Can I help with that?” Adrienne walked up to the counter in Show and Shannon’s kitchen, where Cory was washing dishes. The party for the twins’ baptism was in full swing. Most of the men were outside, standing around with beer and booze, even though the meat had all been grilled and all that was left was cake and presents.

Weddings, birthdays, baptisms—lots of rituals ended with parties that ended with cake and presents.

Cory looked over her shoulder. “Oh no, hon. You should be off your leg, shouldn’t you? It’s been a long day.”

“I was sitting with Shannon and the babies for a long time. I’m okay. And I’m doing better, anyway. I’m out of the shoulder brace.” She lifted her flowing rayon skirt, long enough to skim her ankles, and showed a little bit of her bad leg. “And see? No more sleeve. It’s pretty much healed. Not
pretty
, but pretty much healed.” She didn’t bother to raise the sleeve of her little cotton cardigan to show her arm, too.