It looked a lot like Specs.
“What the fuck is this?” Melter asked as rumblings started around the table.
“Keep watching,” Wolf ordered.
The next video took place outside Clauson’s. The shot angle came from above the front of the store. It showed Edna locking up and walking away just as two men came around from the other side of the corner store. One man broke the glass while another lit a Molotov and threw it into the opening. The frame froze and zoomed in on one of them. The man’s face was obscured behind a mask, but the open neck of his hoodie revealed a chain with a silver skull dangling from it.
The same one Specs usually wore.
“Son of a bitch,” someone muttered.
The next video started, this time outside Hob’s place. The group watching collectively inhaled as they saw Garfield enter his shop. Two men went in a few minutes later. The next cut came from another reflection that looked like a dashcam from someone’s car. A wave of anger rolled off the Knights as they watched the brutal beating.
White-hot rage filled Cam as scene after scene came up. Each one showed a piece of something that led back to Specs. Yet it wasn’t the Specs they knew. This guy moved with confidence and calculation, not the nerdy shuffling of someone trying to please everyone.
If Specs wasn’t Specs, who the hell was this man?
Wolf’s condemnation rang colder than ice. “Specs betrayed this club. He’s been behind all these attacks throughout the areathis whole time. We don’t know who his partner is, but I want some fucking answers, and I want them now. Who vetted him for membership?”
The Knights glanced at one another in confusion.
“Do you mean to tell me no one checked this guy out before admitting him?”
Ratchet answered for the club. “We thought you did.”
Wolf raised his eyes to the ceiling and cursed. “Does anyone know where he lives?”
Again, the Knights had no answers.
“How the fuck are we supposed to find him, then?”
Melter, of all people, spoke up. “The partner got shot, right? At the rally?”
“Yeah.”
Melter cleared his throat. “I’m guessing he wouldn’t go to any hospitals ’cause they have to report any GSWs and everyone is on high alert from the shooting, right? Well, my… friend… told me he’s had an uptick in… pharma sales lately. Some guy asking for fennies or oxys or morph.”
“So?”
“Same guy also wanted antibiotics. The ones you can’t get without a prescription.”
Wolf lost any patience he had left. “Melter, make your fucking point.”
“He said it was a Knight who wanted ’em. He said the guy bought a bunch of stuff from him and then scrammed like his ass was on fire. I wondered who might have a drug problem and why they needed antibiotics too.”
“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
Melter shrugged. “It’s not my business if someone wants to get high now and then. Now I’m thinking that might be our guy, ya know?”
Frustrated moans sounded around the table, and Wolf clenched his fists as he raised them. Explosion appeared imminent, but he visibly pulled back from the brink. “What does that have to do with Specs and the shooting?”
Again, Melter shrugged. “Denny checked for gunshot wounds at the hospitals n’at, right? Maybe they’re treating it themselves. Painkillers and antibiotics.”
Quillon spoke up before Wolf could go off. “It’s a possibility. If that’s what’s happening, then it makes sense to get that shit close to where you’re hiding. Where does your dealer operate?”
Melter hesitated before confessing, “He’s around the strip district.”
The strip district had begun as an industrial area of foundries and mills. As time moved on, so did those businesses. A recent revival brought the area back into favor as a big shopping place with a bunch of different specialty shops and a variety of restaurants. It was a big tourist attraction, so why a drug dealer chose that spot for his trade made little sense, but these days, very little did.
