Grant shook his head vigorously. “No way.”
Rayne pointed to a large package of grilled chicken strips. “What about those? We could do something with them.”
“Good choice.” She pulled the strips from the refrigerator, laid the package on the counter, and poked around in the kitchen until she found a well-used cutting board and a pitiful knife.
Iona shook her head. Her pocket knife would be better than that. “Pull out the mayonnaise, celery, onion, lettuce, and bread. I think a chicken salad sandwich would hit the spot without landing like a rock in our stomachs.”
Grant perked up. “Hey, that sounds good. We bought some chips, too. We definitely need those.”
She rolled her eyes. So much for not being hungry.
Between the two of them, she and Rayne prepared a light lunch of chicken salad sandwiches, chips, and iced tea.
After they finished their meals, they returned to the living room where their teammates had gathered.
Seth motioned for them to sit down. “Elias, tell the rest of them what you told me.”
By the time he finished relaying what happened at the coffee shop, Riley was already on her computer.
Iona smiled. Had to appreciate her ability to multitask. Although Riley looked as though she wasn’t paying attention, if questioned, she’d answer every one correctly.
“Let’s check in with Maddox, and see if he or Zane have an update to share.” Seth grabbed his phone and made the call.
A moment later, Maddox said, “Yeah, Maddox.”
“It’s Seth. You’re on speaker with Echo and Artemis.”
“Copy that. Sit rep.” When they finished updating their boss, Maddox said, “Track down the farmer, and find out what Dutch and company wanted. Also find out if he has any idea what they’re up to.”
“That’s the plan, sir.”
“Good. Do you need anything?”
“Not at the moment, sir.” Seth glanced at Elias and Iona. “I think the MC will come after us tonight or tomorrow night, sir.”
“You have what you need to defend yourselves. Use it.”
“Restrictions?”
“Keep the cops out of it if you can, but I want my people back in one piece. Do what’s necessary to make that happen.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Knight?”
“Sir?”
“Bear called.”
He flinched. “Yes, sir?”
“He wants to know to whom to send the painting bill.”
“I guess to me, sir.”
“I think he and his crew were more inclined to find the punks who damaged your ride.”
“My guess is it’s my father’s MC. I don’t know how we’d prove it though.”
