Page 26 of Property of Whiskey

“Useful.”

“I can start making shit up if it helps. Maybe another monster.”

Legend leans back in his chair. “It don’t.”

He turns Kaylee’s picture faceup again.

“What do you need?”

“Eyes near the old Pearly Gates site. Not sitting at the gate. Too obvious.”

“Oaks,” Legend says.

Oaks nods once.

“No colors,” I add. “No bikes.”

Royal looks personally offended. “What the fuck are we supposed to ride? Horses again?”

“Take Amelia’s new minivan for all I care.”

He gives me a dead stare.

Derby starts laughing, then realizes I’m serious and laughs harder.

Legend ignores both of them. “Anything else?”

“Keep this tight.”

“That mean family too?” Derby asks.

“It means anybody who don’t need to know.”

Derby picks at a scrape in the table instead of looking at anybody. He doesn’t like keeping shit from Amelia. None of us like keeping shit from the women wearing our names. We do it anyway and tell ourselves it keeps them alive. Sometimes it even does.

Legend looks around the table. “We’ve already got girls disappearing out of our county, somebody scrubbing reports, and Pearly Gates thinking they can keep operating under our noses.”

His jaw hardens. “Nobody fucks with the Kings.” Legend closes the folder. “Sheriff’s daughter?”

I don’t move.

Royal does.

He turns toward me like Prez just handed him free entertainment.

“What about her?” I ask.

“She pulled Kaylee’s report after midnight.”

The thought of Twila sitting alone inside the sheriff’s department, digging through files hits harder than it should. Tall blonde. Smart mouth. Badge on her hip and not one ounce of good sense where danger is concerned.

“How do you know?”

Legend gives me a look like that explains everything.

Fair enough.

“She find something?”