CHAPTER TWO

Kyle—

It's not long before Harry Silver's widow leaves, and Cole emits a sharp whistle.

"Church, boys. Now."

We all follow down the hall and into the room, gathering around the scarred wooden table with the Evil Dead emblem carved into it—three skulls that look like they're screaming.

Cole sits at the head, and the officers take chairs around the table. Crash, our VP, Red Dog, Billy's father, Green, Shane, Jake, Cajun, Reckless, and my father, Wolf. The rest of us stand along the side.

I cross my arms and lean against the wood paneling.

Once Cole dispenses with the formalities of roll call, he gets down to the business at hand.

"We've got two charity runs before Sturgis, boys."

It's mid-March, and Sturgis is five months away. I don't know why he's already bringing it up, but I don't really care. He talks with some of the officers about making plans.

I'm wondering if he's going to say anything about the chick in the Mercedes, when he gets quiet, rubbing his palms back and forth and staring at the table.

"I've, uh… we've been approached about something. Most of you never met him, but Harry Silver was our club's attorney. Had been for years. I first met him back in the day when Mack ran this chapter." He looks around the room, and the corner of his mouth pulls up. "Some of you were too young to remember much from those days. Anyway, Joselyn thinks he was murdered. Wants us to find out who killed her husband." He drags a hand down his jaw, stroking his beard. "Not a lot to go on. She filled me in on what she could."

"And what's that?" Wolf asks.

Cole motions to Crash. "You want to give ‘em the details, VP?"

Crash leans forward, his gaze traveling around the room. "He was found in the aqueducts north of Santa Nella."

Green frowns. "Santa Nella? That's across the Diablo Range, ain't it?"

"Out where Christ lost his shoes," Red Dog mutters.

"Actually, there are a lot of almond growers out there. The place is covered with orchards," Crash explains. "His widow thinks he had taken on a case of one of them—a grower by the name of Machado. Claimed his orchards were being contaminated. Thought it was coming from a nearby construction company. She said he talked about some gravel pit where he thought chemicals were being dumped."

"That all we've got to go on?" my father asks.

"No, Wolf. She said he'd found out about some airstrip out there. He was following leads, and it took him out to Las Vegas the week before he died. Before he left, he told her he'd figured it all out, and he was going to stop those sons-of-bitches."

When Crash stops talking, I glance around the room.

Shane leans in his chair. "So, we're gonna become private detectives now or some shit?"

"I'm doing it as a favor to a grieving widow. That, and I'd like to know what the hell's going on in our own fucking backyard," Cole bites out.

"That's just it, prez. It's seventy miles away. That's hardly our backyard," Green says.

"Close enough," Cole snaps with a lifted brow.

Crash grins. "Plus the lady's payin' us."

That gets everyone's attention, and men lean forward.

"How much?" Jake asks.

"Two-hundred grand," Cole replies.

Reckless whistles. "We split it equal?"

Cole nods. "Fourteen and some change each."

"I'm in," Green says, grinning.

Cole puts his elbows on the table. "We'll need to do some research. I really want to go over a map of that area where they found him, and that almond grower, and construction company. Plus, I'd like to locate that airstrip. She's going to bring by his case files later."

"That Las Vegas trip worries me," Reckless muses. "I mean, I know they say there's no mob in Vegas anymore, but there's a ton of money, and men who deal with tons of money do whatever they have to do to protect it."

"Agreed. We're gonna take our time with this. I don't want to drag the club into the middle of something that can get us killed." Cole looks around the table. "Officers, we'll get into it more tomorrow." He slams the gavel down. "Meeting adjourned."

We walk out, and I grab another beer at the bar. The ol' ladies are playing pool, and I like seeing they've taken Sutton into their group, welcoming her like I knew they would. This club has a great bunch of ol' ladies, and it's growing every day.

Resuming my perch on my barstool, I see my brother approach the pool table and sling his arm around Sutton, leaning to give her a peck on the lips.

Billy, TJ, and Marcus follow me to the bar.

"We're all taking a ride down to Joey's. You comin'?" Billy asks.

I shake my head, noticing Sutton and the rest of the women slipping on their leather jackets. "Nah. Think I'll stay here."

TJ puts an arm around my neck and pulls me off my stool in a headlock. "Wrong answer, grasshopper. You're goin'."

They drag me to my motorcycle, and everyone mounts up. Strapping on my helmet, I watch Rafe throw his leg over his bike. Sutton looks hot as hell in a tight leather jacket that fits her like a glove. She gets on behind him and wraps her arms around my brother. He reaches back to pat her thigh, and I turn away, my jaw tightening.

I'm going to have to watch her and my brother all night. Fucking hell. Tapping the heel of my boot to my kickstand, I slip on my shades, already planning to cut out early.