Onyx and I go fish the drone out of the mud. We quickly check it over for booby traps and then strap it onto the back of my bike. It’s a good rig. It should be, since they’re using the equipment they stole from us to make it.
***
We make it back to the clubhouse with the drone, and Striker and Jasper meet us in the parking lot. I no sooner stop my bike than Striker is already unstrapping it with a gleam in his eye.
But the thing that breaks this whole case open doesn’t come off that drone. It comes from Nora.
She finds me in the kitchen while I’m scrubbing the muck off my hands from handling that drone.
I grin at her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, beautiful.”
She leans against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed, ignoring my nice compliment. She’s got a pensive expression on her face.
“What’s up, Nora? Did something happen while I was gone?”
“No. I’ve been thinking. You and the Sons are trying to figure out where my father’s money comes from, right?”
I shut off the water. “Of course we are. Cutting off their money cuts off the munitions and drones they’re using against us.”
“Santos.” She says it flat. “My brother Spark got drunk about six months back and wouldn’t shut up about it. Santos is a money guy from south of the border. Spark said the club was done scraping, said they had a partner now who’d make the Sons look poor as church mice.” Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t understand what he was going on about or why he was soexcited. But I figured that I’d best tell you about it, in case it was important information.”
“Look, Nora. I know how hard it must have been for you to give up important intel on your family. It might be the information that helps us take the fangs out of the Hyenas. If so, it will make us all safer.”
“They tried to traffic me, Jinx.” Her voice is more pissed than hurt. “That’s what forced marriage is, right?”
I nod, because she’s not wrong about that.
“The way I see it, I’m not obligated to keep all their dirty little secrets anymore. I’m done protecting men who never once protected me.”
I reach, wrap my arms around her and whisper, “You made the right choice, sweetheart. I’ll make sure the right people in our club know about this piece.”
***
I bring it to church later in the afternoon. First, I give a report on the mission to the cannery. I talk about the ambush, the drone built from our stolen tech, and then I give them the name Nora told me.
Striker looks like that name rang a bell and starts pulling up a parcel on the map just past the edge of our territory.
“I think she might be referring to Santos Auto Export,” he says. “Cars and parts go in, get crated for buyers overseas. These types of operations are mostly just money laundering operations. They’re runnin’ cartel money through a scrapyardshippin’ business. And it sits one road over from every place Jinx flagged earlier today.”
A long silence spins out in the room as my club brothers process this information. Jasper leans back in his chair. His voice turns serious. “So, the Hyenas didn’t crawl back here on their own. Somebody bigger is payin’ them to make another run at our territory. And they hit Jinx’s auto parts store for the tech to pull it off.”
“Looks that way, Prez,” Onyx says.
I realize that whatever’s coming for us, it’s a lot bigger than two clubs and a busted storefront.
Chapter 10
Nora
Growing up in a clubhouse teaches you several things at once. Don’t ever put yourself in a position where you’re alone with a brother. Don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself. Don’t do anything to make the brothers think you have more in common with club girls than old ladies. You learn to be in a room so quietly that men forget you’re there and say the things they’d never say to your face. I was furniture in my father’s house for twenty-two years. It turns out the skill travels. And most importantly, listen to everything going on around you. Snippets of information you pick up might save your life one day. I keep those things in mind when operating at the Sons clubhouse.
I’m refilling the coffee urn in the main room when nausea kicks in. I make it to the nearest bathroom just in time. I don’t know why but I seem to throw up for a long time, until I’m dry heaving again. It’s getting worse. I probably need to see a doctor to make sure this is normal.
When I come out, wiping my mouth, I spot Queenie leaning against the bar.
I give her a wan smile. “Hi, Queenie. You look nice today.” She’s the founder, Rock’s old lady. I really like her. She’s like the mother I never had.
“Darlin’, you need to see someone about that.” She has a kind smile, blonde hair, and blue eyes that have seen more than their share of troubles.
