Storm pushes off from the pool table and crosses his arms. As sergeant at arms, he takes security serious as a heart attack, and the look on his face tells me whatever they dug up isn't good.
"We did a deep dive on Logan Matthews' family like I told you we would," Devil starts, pulling out his phone and scrolling through something. "Kid's last name is Matthews, but his mother's maiden name is Clark."
The name doesn't mean anything to me at first, but then I see the way Storm's jaw tightens.
"The Clarks?" I ask. "As in the Clarks that own half the commercial real estate in Laurel Springs for the last ten years?"
"The same." Devil sets his phone down on the bar. "They are clean on the surface. But we started pulling threads, and some interesting shit came up."
"Like what?"
Storm steps forward. "The Clarks have a connection to the Rebels. We're not sure how deep it goes yet, but there's definitely something there."
The Rebels. Again. Every time I think we've got a handle on what they're doing, they pop up somewhere new. "What kind of connection?"
"That's what we're still working on." Devil looks over at Lee, who's been standing quietly this whole time. "But we've got some leads. Property deals that don't make a lot of sense, money moving in ways that look fucked up when you start connecting dots."
I lean back in my chair, processing this. "So Logan's mom is a Clark, the Clarks are connected to the Rebels somehow, and Logan was on fentanyl-laced weed in Allison's classroom." We got a look at his toxicology report thanks to Chief Harrison.
"That's the short version, yeah." Devil runs a hand over his face, and I can see the exhaustion there. He's been working this angle hard. We all have, since we got that phone call yesterday. "Question is, did the kid get into his family's supply, or was it something else?"
"Does it matter?" Storm asks, his voice hard. "Either way, the Rebels' poison is in our town, in our schools, and now it's touched one of ours."
He's right. Allison might not wear a property patch, but she's mine, which makes her part of this club whether she knows it or not. And anyone who hurts what's ours has to answer for it.
"We need to know how the Clarks are connected to the Rebels," I say, standing up. "Are they suppliers? Distributors? Are they just turning a blind eye to what's happening on their properties?"
"That's what we're figuring out." Devil looks at Lee again. "Which brings us to the next part. Lee, you've been doing good work for us. We need you to step it up."
The prospect straightens, and I can see the pride flash across his face before he schools his expression back to neutral. "Whatever you need."
"We need you to trail Logan. Now that he's out of jail, he's going to go somewhere, talk to someone. Kids like that don't just appear with drugs out of nowhere. Someone gave him that weed, or he took it from somewhere." Devil's voice is calm, but there's steel underneath it. "We need to know where he goes, who he sees, what he does. And we need you to be invisible while you do it."
"I can do that," Lee says without hesitation.
"Good. Because if this leads back to the Clarks, we need to know before we make any moves." Devil looks between all of us. "The Clarks have deep pockets and deeper connections in this town. We go after them without proof, it could blow back on the club in ways we can't afford." He doesn't mention Chief Harrison will need to be brought up to speed on all of this.
"What about the Rebels?" I ask. "If the Clarks are working with them?—"
"Then we've got a bigger problem than we thought," Storm finishes. "The Rebels have been testing our boundaries for months. If they've got a local family bankrolling them, giving them more access…"
He doesn't have to finish the sentence. We all know what it means. The Rebels aren't just some rival club trying to muscle in anymore. They're embedded, connected, and that makes them dangerous in a whole new way.
I nod, my mind already moving ahead to what comes next. "How long do you think before we know something concrete?"
"Week, maybe two." Devil picks up his phone again. "Lee's going to start surveillance today. We've got someone checking property records, following the money. Storm's going to reach out to some contacts, see what word on the street is."
"And me?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"You keep Allison safe." Devil meets my eyes. "She's the only civilian witness to Logan's drug fueled rage. If the Clarks think she saw something, heard something, knows something that could connect them to this..."
My hands curl into fists. "Nobody's touching her."
"We know. But you need to be smart about this, brother. Keep your head on straight." Storm steps closer, his expression serious. "I know what she means to you, but we can't afford for you to go off half-cocked if something happens."
"Nothing's going to happen," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "Because I'm going to make sure of it."
Devil nods slowly. "Good. Then we're all on the same page." He looks around at each of us. "Lee, you start today. Report back anything, I don't care how small it seems. Storm, I want daily updates on what you're hearing. Dime, you keep Allison close and keep your eyes open. If anyone comes sniffing around her, anyone at all, I want to know about it. Everything else is business as usual. We go into the garage tomorrow, and we work like nothing is going on."
