Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Luke hated everything to do with clothes.
Shopping. Laundry. Folding. As well as fitting and tailoring.
It didn’t help that Milltown Tuxedos & Tailoring was a hole-in-the-wall that smelled of starch, lemon polish, and Old Spice.
The kind of place where weddings were pre-measured and prom disasters began.
And he missed Holly. A lot. All he wanted was to finish this chore and return to Kingsmill. All he could think about was the fact that the rehearsal dinner would be held along the river, near the old King’s Mill, and that Holly just might wear a bikini.
He stood on the little wooden platform, arms out like he was being crucified, while the old tailor muttered around a mouthful of pins.
“Is this tuxedo pink?” He eyed the tux jacket the tailor was measuring. “It better not be pink.”
Except choosing pink tuxedos would be something Hawk would do for both fun and spite, even though none of them were actually in the wedding party.
“Champagne,” Ben corrected from a nearby stool. He was drinking some sort of fancy almond latte for which he’d already taken a ton of teasing. “They called it ‘midnight champagne.”
“That’s not a real color,” Luke muttered.
“Neither is ‘dead possum brown,’ but the color of Trent’s truck says otherwise,” Jacob quipped, earning a snort from Gage.
Both Jacob and Gage were doing a crossword puzzle on the counter that held bowties and dress socks.
Trent, who was reading the newspaper on a worn velvet sofa nearby, didn’t even raise his voice. “It’s a farm truck.”
“The vet school uses it to carry pig shit,” Kane added from the other end of the room, his gaze glued to his phone. “Eve just texted. She’s threatening to set fire to Hawk’s bike. It seems her dress fitting didn’t go well—oh, she sent a photo.” He frowned at the screen. “It’s truly awful.”
Ben grinned. “Did she use actual fire emoji or just use descriptive violence?”
Kane tilted the phone. “Four fire emojis and the knife with the blood drip.”
“Oof,” Gage said. “That’s bad. That’s like that time we missed her Thanksgiving dinner-level bad.”
Luke shifted until the tailor poked him with a pin. “Why do I have to get fitted for Abe as well? He’s the evil twin.”
“You’re closer in size,” Jacob said as he erased something on his crossword puzzle. “And you share the same restless energy.”
Since both things were true, Luke released a deep, toddler-like sigh.
The tailor stepped back, nodded, then scribbled something on a clipboard. “You’re done,” he mumbled.
“Great. Now let’s never speak of this again.” Luke stepped down and pointed at Trent. “It’s your turn.”
When Trent stood, Gage cleared his throat.
“Before we all get distracted,” Gage said, “we need to talk about the flash drive.”
Kane’s posture snapped straight. “We’re not doing that here.”
“We are,” Gage said firmly. “This isn’t going away.”
Ben set down his coffee. “I looked at the map. I think there are routes marked in code, and time stamps. It’s more than just regular MC smuggling. This looks more organized. More sophisticated, like transit times and schedules.”
“They’re moving something,” Gage said. “Likely weapons. Maybe worse. I left a message with my FBI buddies, but they haven’t responded.”
Luke sat on the couch and leaned forward, his elbows digging into his thighs.
After Gage, an Army Ranger, had retired and returned to Kingsmill, he’d worked with the FBI to rid the town of a cartel smuggling operation.
Since then, the MC had been dealing only in low level crimes, mostly because they believed Gage was still watching them.
But maybe things had changed.
“Luke opened that flash drive on Eve’s laptop,” Kane growled. “That’s how they got the IP trace. By now, I’m sure the MC knows someone accessed the files. And they’re probably tracking my wife.”
“I didn’t know it would ping back!” Luke snapped. “It looked like a regular USB. Holly is the one who found the flash drives, and she didn’t know what was on them either.”
“Once the MC figures it out,” Kane said. “They’ll assume we’ll want to blow this wide open.”
Gage folded his arms. “According to my local contacts—”
“You mean Nana Ruthie and Mr. Elmer?” Luke could only assume that the two busiest-bodiest, gray-haired gossips in town were Gage’s sources.
Gage nodded. “The MC has gone silent. No movement on their channels. That’s not good.”
Jacob finally put down his pencil “Could the MC’s silence be due to Hawk’s wedding and Damian’s accident? Maybe they’re just preoccupied.”
Luke would love to believe that, but since Jacob was the only brother who’d never had anything to do with the MC, he was also the most optimistic… and na?ve.
The front door slammed, and they all turned to see Hawk stride in. He wore his black leather cut over his jeans, and his jaw was so tight and sharp that it could cut glass.
“We have a problem.” Hawk’s voice sounded low and lethal. Not at all like a man who was about to get married. “A big one.”
Ben frowned. “Bigger than Eve threatening to light your bike on fire?”
“Yes,” Hawk said. “Because Ink—”
“Who the hell is Ink?” Jacob demanded.
“That man Holly saved from appendicitis last night?” Luke asked Hawk. The man had seemed familiar, but Luke hadn’t been able to ID him.
Hawk nodded. “Yeah. Ink is chaplain of the Ravensburg MC chapter. He’s supposed to marry Izzy and me tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s festive,” Jacob muttered.
“Ink called me,” Hawk continued. “Word’s out. A flash drive that Damian was carrying has been accessed. Except it was a flash drive that Damian wasn’t supposed to have in the first place. Now the rest of the MC thinks we—all the Mosby men—are planning to go to the Feds.”
“Why was Damian carrying it?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know.” Hawk perched on a nearby stool. “I’m not sure what’s on the flash drive. And that concerns me.”
Because as the Vice President of the club, Hawk should be clued in about everything.
“Do you think,” Gage asked carefully, “that the Kingsmill chapter is going rogue? Maybe doing things beyond the normal illegal MC activities?”
“Possibly. But I’m not sure about anything anymore.” Hawk rubbed his fist along his forehead. “I wish we could ask Damian, but he’s now in a coma.”
“Since when?” Ben asked sharply.
“Since about an hour ago.” Hawk looked directly at Luke. “The MC is watching Eve and Holly. They assume Holly took the flash drive because she had access to him alone during the accident. And they know that the flash drive was accessed from Eve’s laptop.”
“And that means what?” Kane asked darkly.
Hawk shrugged. “The MC wants the map and the flash drives back. And they want our word that we’re not going to law enforcement. Or else...”
Luke’s heart dropped. “Or else what?”
“Or else something happens to Eve or Holly.”
Silence spread through the tux shop like poison.
“We’ll protect them,” Trent said quietly. “Won’t we?”
“We have to.” Gage released a long, deep breath. “But we need a plan.
“Hawk,” Ben asked in a low, calm voice. “The maps and drives lead me to believe that the MC is moving some kind of contraband. Something more dangerous than illegal fireworks or fake Chinese car parts. Do you know what they’re moving? Or who they’re working with?”
“No.” Hawk released a deep breath and stared at the floor. “I have no idea. And I don’t know what the MC is going to do next.”
Gage didn’t look convinced. “We’re not dealing with local punks anymore, Hawk. This is organized. Connected. Whoever’s behind those shipments—whatever they are—has serious backing. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re moving guns.”
And no one responded because there was nothing to say.
“Maybe Damian will wake up,” Jacob offered. “Then he can tell us what’s going on.”
“Damian may not wake up at all.” Luke hated saying the words aloud, but they could be true. “We may never know what he was up to.”
“When I get home,” Kane said, “I’ll try to reroute any connections from the IP log. Maybe we can get some information that way.”
“You need to work fast, brother,” Hawk said. “I’m marrying Izzy tomorrow, regardless of this mess. And tell Eve she can wear whatever the hell she wants. I don’t care, as long as she doesn’t set my bike on fire.”
The bell above the shop door jingled again.
“Sorry I’m late.” Abe stepped inside and dropped his Army green duffel on the floor.
He wore his standard civilian uniform of jeans, black motorcycle boots, and black Henley.
“Didn’t know this many people could fit in a tux shop without violating fire code…
wait.” He stared at each of them like he didn’t recognize anyone. “Is Damian dead?”
“No,” Gage blurted out. “And hopefully he’ll recover quickly.”
Abe headed toward Luke. “Twin? Why do you look like you just took a left turn into a war movie?”
Luke pointed at Kane. “Because I accidentally tripped a digital landmine and now the MC thinks we’re narcs.”
Abe’s eyes widened. “What the hell happened?”
Gage clapped Abe on the shoulder and ran through everything that was going on. “Congratulations. You’re now caught up in an interstate smuggling ring and a family vendetta. Also, you need to get measured.”
Luke looked around for the tailor, only to find him lying on the floor, near the hanging rack of white dinner jackets. That’s Luke realized the tailor had not only heard their conversation, he’d fainted.
Abe blinked, then looked at Hawk. “Do I still have to wear the champagne tux, or can we switch to Kevlar?”