Church is in a little while.
I walk back to the main house with Banshee. Phantom is on the porch waiting for us. Dakota is in the front window, watching, her hand on the curtain.
I can see her there even from thirty feet away because I have spent years learning the shape of that woman through any kind of glass.
Banshee gives Phantom the sandwich bag with the cigarette butt and tells him about the boot print.
Phantom looks at the bag for a long time. "Camel Wide," he says.
I look at him. "How do you know?"
"Color of the filter ring. It’s the same brand my brother used to smoke."
He puts the bag in his cut pocket and looks at me. "Office. After church."
"Yes, Prez."
He walks inside.
Banshee and I head for the clubhouse.
* * *
Church goes the way you'd expect it to go when the property has been breached.
Phantom's at the head of the table, brothers around him.
Buckley and the prospects are outside.
Phantom slams the gavel down once everyone is inside, and the room goes quiet.
"Dakota’s got a stalker, and he’s been on the property within the last hour," he says. "A photo was taken from the main barn loft. Boot print, fresh. Cigarette butt—Camel Wide, like my brother used to smoke. Spur and Banshee swept the loft and the perimeter."
Bullseye sits forward in his chair. "He still on the property?"
"No," Banshee answers. "Dogs would be barking. They're not."
Shadow puts both hands flat on the table. "How'd he get in?"
"North fence or the access road," I tell him. "Either way, he knew where the cameras don't reach."
Thunder, on Phantom's right, taps the table once with his knuckle. "He's been watching us. Not just her."
"Yes," Phantom says. "He has."
The room takes that in.
Shadow at my left side leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.
Longhorn says nothing—Longhorn never says anything in church unless Phantom asks him to, and when he does say something, you listen.
Phantom keeps going.
"I want a twenty-four-hour patrol on the perimeter around the houses, barn, and clubhouse, starting now," he says. "Two-man shifts. Six-hour rotations. Banshee, you build the schedule by the end of the day."
"Yes, Prez."
"Every patched member checks in every two hours via the group thread. I don't care if you're on patrol or in your cabin or eating dinner with a clubwhore on your lap. Two goddamn hours."
