They bet on my reaction to Cami’s return to Raven’s Crest.
“I’m hungry. You all owe me dinner,” I announce as I grab my shirt, slip it over my head, and stomp up the stairs to the porch. We keep a fridge out here stocked with beer. I grab one, pop the top, and take a long pull.
“Guess it’s my turn to be generous,” Tyre laughs. “Pizza and wings?”
No one ever turns that down.
I sit at the round table I erected years ago so we could relax out here and play cards or board games when the mood warrants. It’s still the most popular place in the house. My brothers join me as we wait for the pizza and wings.
I’m not interested in a discussion about Cami, but I know it’s coming. For now, I want to know what Braden has found out. “Tell me what you know about the fire.”
I could have asked Alder, but he’s been training Braden, so this is the type of arson experience my youngest brother needs to hone his skills. Alder will correct him if he gets any of the facts wrong. I don’t expect him to, though. Braden has always been detail-oriented. It’s a good fit for him.
“First degree,” Braden begins. “We looked at the charring and shapes left behind this morning. The “V” patterns don’t lie. It was deliberate, accelerated by the use of a Molotov. We found the gas bottle and cloth soaked with kerosene.”
“Fuck.” My fist pounds the table. “Who the fuck did this with Granny Jo inside the bakery?”
Alder shakes his head. “I don’t know, Rex, but they must have watched her to know when she was there. The arsonist didn’t just want to burn down the bakery. They wanted to hurt a sweet old woman, too.”
“Or hurt Cami,” Wyatt suggests.
His words send a cold chill down my spine.
My gaze swings in his direction. “What do you mean?”
“It’s easy,” Tyre interjects. “Anyone who’s been around Cami knows that Granny Jo is the most important person in her life. Hurt her grandma, and you hurt Cami.”
Son of a bitch. He’s right.
“I can’t sit on this. I need to talk to Scythe.”
“What’s this got to do with the club?”
I turn to Tyre, not bothering to hide my irritation. “Because she’s family and I’m the V.P. of the club. This just got personal.” Not like it wasn’t already. “Watch your backs. If someone was watching Cami, they could have been watching all of us.”
That’s the thought that pisses me off—the vulnerability. We didn’t know this weak spot before today. Now that we do, we tighten security and travel in pairs.
I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Scythe’s number. He answers on the third ring.
“Mountain. Need you to come to The Barn.”
I don’t ask what’s going on, just obey my pres. “On my way.”
SCARECROW IS INSIDEthe chapel with Scythe when I arrive at the clubhouse. It’s odd not to see Phantom, but he’s with Granny Jo and Cami. I haven’t heard from him yet, which means there hasn’t been any trouble.
Scythe called me here for a different reason.
“Pres,” I greet him as I shut the chapel doors. “Scarecrow. Fill me in.”
Scythe sits back as I take my seat. “I’ve learned more about that fucker Johnathon Allen.”
Allen tried to kill Scythe’s ol’ lady, Lottie. If not for our connection with the scarecrows in the cornfields of this town, she might not have made it.
“What about him?”
“You know about his nephew being one of his victims.”
“Yeah, you told me,” I remind him. The guy dismembered his own flesh and blood.
