“Or one of his Shadows Sixes minions,” Trick growls.
“Either way, this ends?—”
The door flies open, banging against the wall. All eyes turn toward the noise, and Mellie stands there with an expression I can’t read.
“Mel, you know you can’t b?—”
“I remembered something,” she blurts.
“Yeah, you told me,” I say gently.
She frantically shakes her head. “No, I mean, I remembered more. I thought everything had returned, but I was wrong.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing out the word. “Can it wait until I’m outta church? You know you can’t be in here.”
“I know, and I’m sorry for interrupting,” she states, crossing the room to stand next to me. “But everyone should hear this.”
“What is it?” Zombie asks.
Mellie’s body goes rigid. “I, um… Well, you see…” She pauses to swallow. “I know who’s behind everything.”
“What?” Copper demands, shooting to his feet.
She winces at his tone. “It started months ago. Well, it started back when Rowdy had his motorcycle accident, but that’s beside the point. The most recent problems started roughly five months ago.”
“Explain,” I demand, doing my best to keep my temper in check.
“One day, I was running errands, and I noticed that I was being followed. When I got home, I told Rowdy about it, and we worked together to try and figure out what exactly was going on.”
“You and Rowdy?” I ask, unsure how to process what she’s telling us.
Mellie nods. “It didn’t happen again for a few weeks, and I think we both just sorta brushed it off as paranoia. Then the Camaro was back, following me almost every time I left the clubhouse.” Her shoulders slump. “Rowdy and I started to investigate, and we learned that the car belonged to Ray Burns.”
“Cray Cray,” Zombie snarls.
“Yes.” She tips her head back to look at me. “Rowdy wanted to tell you, but I begged him not to. I know how wrong that was, and I wish I could go back, I swear I do. I promised him that I’d tell you as soon as the wedding was over, and then…”
“You didn’t remember,” I finish for her.
“Right.” She inhales deeply. “There’s more.”
“Jesus,” Goose mutters.
“I don’t know for sure, but I think Peach has something to do with all this shit.”
“What makes you think that?” Undertaker asks.
“Well, for starters, any interaction with her after the accident felt off somehow. I couldn’t put a finger on it until today. You see, the day of the wedding, right before Rowdy picked me up, Peach texted me. And when I left the hotel, I saw a matte black Camaro parked across the street. I remember thinking to myself that Peach was involved because it was too much of a coincidence, and I’d made up my mind to tell you about it as soon as we got to the clubhouse.”
“But there was the accident,” Sawbone says.
“Yeah.” Tears fill her eyes, but I don’t have it in me to console her at the moment. “Anyway, I don’t have proof, but I’d bet my life that Peach and Cray Cray are connected somehow.”
Taking several deep breaths, I mentally count to ten. Once I feel reasonably certain that I’m calm enough to speak, I focus on Mellie.
“I’ll deal with you later,” I grit. “Right now, you need to leave.”
“B-but I can help.”
