She leaned forward, peering into the kitchen. “Do you have coffee?”
“Yes, come on.”
Cleo made the coffee, noticing that the girl seemed to move in sync with her. If Cleo took a step forward, so did she. When she walked to the sink to fill up the pot, she was two feet away looking out the window. Cleo followed her stare. The woods were thick, but she could make out the orange glow in the distance.
It was a signature move in Killcreek.
“What’s that?”
“Um, bonfire.”
The girl slowly glanced over at her. “They’re having a bonfire? Now?”
Cleo flattened her lips and gently grasped her arm, leading her into the living room.
It’s what they do.
****
Wraith made his way down the cellar steps. Aside from some old furniture and storage totes, the basement was an open space. They secured the two men and zip tied their arms behind their backs. The same had been done to Reyna, but she was about thirty feet away in a separate corner.
He stalked through the room. As he got closer, he noticed they hadn’t been touched. No blood, cuts, or lacerations. That was not a signature staple for the club. Brutality and beatings were usually the prelude to every execution. And if torture was warranted for any situation? It was this one.
Ace stepped in front of Wraith with Cross close to his side.
“We need this clean.”
Clean? These motherfuckers were going to suffer, and if he had his way, die by his bare hands.
“No.”
Cross held up his hand. “This isn’t a safe house. It’s Grizz’s.We can’t burn it down if someone suspects something. We need to keep this clean for him and the club.”
“And Cleo.” Ace added.
It was probably the only reason he’d stand down.
“My shot.” Wraith growled, eyeing the men. Their death would be on his hands. Wraith wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d never seen them before. They were still piecing everything together. The girl wasn’t going to be any help. They’d have to rely strictly on the three in the basement.
“They say anything?”
“Surprisingly, a lot.” Cross dragged his hand through his hair. “Got their names from their licenses. Dead guy in the house was obviously the muscle, Lenny Smith. These two,” he gestured to the men. “Joe Turner and Mickey Gibbs. Thinking Turner is the lead on this little operation.”
“They give you a name?”
The club knew that this was bigger than Joe and Mickey. They were doing the grunt work for someone else.
Cross shook his head. “No, not giving that up which makes me think they work for someone powerful. But they’re talking.”
Wraith gave a curt nod. “Let’s fucking hear it.”
“Here’s what we got.” Ace moved closer, circling the men. “Your transport takes you through Killcreek. Under the guise of some kids camping, you move the girls through our territory. It’s a decent cover. Unsuspecting, most people wouldn’t give a second look. How many times you bring them in?”
Joe sighed. “This was the second.”
“Testing the waters?” Cross asked.
Joe lowered his chin in a sharp nod.
