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Ghost stared at him. “You're already whipped.”

“Fuck you,” Hammer shouted.

Ghost looked at Angel, and she raised an eyebrow at him. He even found that sexy as hell. “Fine.”

He hit the call button and put the phone on speaker, and Mouse answered immediately. “You alone?” he asked.

“No,” Ghost admitted.

“For fuck's sake, Ghost,” Mouse growled.

“Angel's here,” he said.

Mouse sighed. “Of course she is.”

“And Hammer,” Ghost added.

“Even better,” Mouse grumbled.

“What'd you find?” Ghost asked.

He paused, and Ghost didn't like Mouse hesitating. The man usually delivered bad news like he was reading baseball scores. “Remember those records you asked me about?”

Angel went pale, but Ghost hadn't asked Mouse about any records. “What records?” Mouse went quiet, and Angel looked away. Ghost straightened. “Mouse.”

“The Nomad Knights' financial records,” Mouse said.

Hammer looked at Angel, and she refused to meet his eyes. “Keep talking,” Ghost ordered.

“Viper kept two sets of books,” Mouse said. Angel closed her eyes, and Ghost could tell that she already knew that. “He kept one normal set,” Mouse continued. “Club businesses, payroll, taxes, all the shit they wanted people to see.”

“And the second?” Ghost asked.

“They were the real books,” Mouse said. But Ghost already knew the answer. “Guns, drugs, payoffs, and protection money. Names of people outside the club who were doing business with them.”

“How do you know this?” Ghost asked.

“I found someone who used to handle accounting for one of the Nomad Knights' legitimate businesses,” Mouse said.

“Used to?” Ghost questioned.

“Guy's seventy-eight and living in Arizona now,” Mouse said.

“Convenient,” Ghost grumbled.

“He's also dying of lung cancer, so he doesn't give much of a shit about keeping club secrets anymore,” Mouse said.

Ghost glanced at Angel. She had wrapped her arms around herself. “What happened to the second ledger?”

“It disappeared after Viper died,” Mouse said.

Hammer swore. “And Razor thinks Angel has it,” Ghost said.

“Apparently,” Mouse said.

“I don't,” Angel insisted. All three men went silent, and Angel stared at the phone. “I don't have it.”

Mouse cleared his throat. “I'm guessing that's Angel.”