Chip had recently come to the club. He wasn’t prospecting, but he was living on property. The formerly homeless veteran was still finding his way and just needed a place to get on his feet before he decided what it was he wanted to do with his life.
“And if he has an episode?” Bulldog asked, which was a valid question. Chip had PTSD, and loud noises affected him.
“What if we don’t post him in the school?” Lucky suggested. “Set him up outside. Have him constantly patrol and in contact with Jigsaw so we have the inside and outside covered?”
Steel nodded his approval. “Make it happen. I also want Keys on Ollie, and I don’t give a shit if the teens are just heading to the diner for a milkshake. I want eyes on them at all times.”
Bulldog typed into his phone.
“Were the cameras in the consignment store removed?”
“Yes,” Lucky answered, crossing his ankle onto his knee. “Keys said a lot of technical stuff I didn’t understand, but basically, the cameras couldn’t be hacked without a replacement feed and he didn’t have enough time to create one.” Lucky frowned. “I think.”
“They fixed the panic alarm too,” Bulldog informed him.
“There were already cameras in the store,” Steel said. Jenna loved that store. How dare someone threaten her in it? “Did they show who did this?”
“Yes and no. Keys says his cameras can’t be hacked unless the person is better than him,” Lucky explained. His voice said Keys’ ego played a big part in that statement. “But the perp was wearing a balaclava and gloves. No useful footage.”
Bulldog added, “He was in and out in thirty minutes.”
“Why didn’t we know about the break-in while it was happening?” Steel inquired.
Lucky did not look happy as he admitted, “Because the alarm system wasn’t set.”
Anger rose up in Steel, and he had to school his face to keep from showing it. “Who closed up on Friday?”
“Ollie and Aaron,” Lucky said. Before Steel could respond, the VP held up his hand. “I’ve already spoken to both. It wasan honest mistake. Each one thought the other had set it before they left.”
An honest mistake, but also an opportunity.
“He’s stalking me,” Steel concluded. It was already a possibility. Whoever was framing him for murder hadn’t just pulled his name out of a hat. It was personal enough that Dixie Gilbert had been killed by a sniper shot, Steel’s former profession before he’d taken command.
If someone was going after the club’s sniper, it would be Angel. When the club had attacked the Black Python’s clubhouse, Angel had been the one in the roost, not Steel. Which meant someone had pulled his military records.
It was too personal. This wasn’t about the club but about him. Who would have the motive? Steel could think of a number of people with motive, but one would think they would go after the club as a whole. Why him?
If Cheryl had any family who cared about her, he could understand that revenge. He’d been the one to pull the trigger, obviously. But she didn’t. Her family had disowned her years ago for what they considered her loose morals. Pumpkin had fathered her son, and there’d been nothing against him. His accident had been wrong place, wrong time as far as any of them knew. Beyond that, no one outside the club knew about Cheryl’s death. Her disappearance was just another one to add to the void. Pigs had taken care of the rest, minus the teeth.
Why Steel? Who had he pissed off so much that they would frame him for murder?
Was Dixie Gilbert always part of the plan? Or had she been another convenience? Would it have mattered who had been in his crosshairs, so long as the evidence pointed at Steel? Had Steel’s argument with Dixie Gilbert outside of the consignment store last week presented an opportunity that hadn’t otherwise been there?
What about Fang? He hadn’t pulled the trigger. The former Black Python SAA had been working with the DEA, trying to convince the agency that the VDMC had destroyed the Black Pythons to take over their gun and skin trades. But Fang had been in the motel room when Dixie had been murdered, and even if he wasn’t, he didn’t have the skill to make that shot.
They were looking for a sniper. Which presented another problem: time. Snipers were trained to be patient, methodical. They could wait for hours in the scorching sun for the best possible shot. This enemy, whoever he was, was not in a hurry. He would not show his face or reveal his endgame untilhewas ready.
Snipers were dangerous. They were the bullet you won’t see coming. They don’t walk up to you before they shoot. They sit, they wait, and then you die.
“We need to do a sweep,” Steel told his VP and SAA. “Look for perches, spots around where he could be hiding. Have Angel help you. We need to know where we are the weakest, both here and in town. I want to know if he has crosshairs on us from outside Keys’ network.”
Bulldog’s face hardened as he nodded and typed into his phone again. “On it. Are we going into lockdown?”
Steel’s gut said ‘no’. This was too personal. It was Jenna and Ollie he was concerned with. Jordan and Melanie were off at college, and Carter lived with his wife and son in the city. He would call and warn them, but he couldn’t keep them from living their lives.
“I want discreet security on Melanie, Jordan, Carter, and Lucy. If we can’t use our people, call Jack with the Mutineers. Keys has his number.” Jack—the other Jack—owed Steel a favor, and he would cash it in now if needed. “As for everyone else, we keep a vigilant eye out, but nothing changes. Jenna and Ollie are the priority. If someone wants to get me and can’t, they’rethe next logical targets.” Especially with the panic button at the consignment shop having been disabled.
Steel looked to Bulldog. “Does Scar still patrol the houses?”
