19. Smitty #2
And just like that, my phone went back into my pocket.
My text would have to wait. I followed Grim down the hall, and by the time we entered the conference room, Prez and Shep were already there with Creed and Goose.
Prez wasted no time and announced, “The bar came up empty… the cabin, too. Looked like nobody had been there in months.”
“Damn.”
Creed’s expression grew fierce as he announced, “He’s not hiding.”
“No,” Preacher agreed. “He’s getting ready to make his next move.”
“There has to be something we’ve missed.”
Shep stood and stepped over to his monitor, pulling up all the photographs we had collected from Raymond’s place. Some had come from Brooke, and the others were taken by Memphis and Ghost during their own walk-through of the house.
There were maps, pictures, and notes that included everything from our names to our addresses. There were even the beginnings of schedules showing our comings and goings during the week.
Nobody spoke.
We all just sat there, staring at the various pictures, hoping something would click. Minutes rolled into hours, and one by one, the other brothers started trickling in, each giving a hand at trying to find something that might help us piece this thing together.
The silence was deafening, and it only added to the tension in the room. Hell, it practically crackled around us. I was beginning to think we were wasting our time when Memphis said, “Hold up.”
“What?”
“There.” Memphis pointed to the screen. “That picture of the clubhouse… Look how it was taken.”
At first, I had no idea what he was talking about.
It was just a picture. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Then it hit me. It had been taken within our grounds, just beyond the back fence.
There wasn’t much back there, just some trees and an old, weathered shed.
But that shed could hold the answer we’d been looking for.
“Holy shit,” I muttered. “He’s been here the whole damn time.”
“I don’t know,” Memphis answered. “But it’s possible.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Creed grumbled.
“Look at the picture.” I pointed to the image that had caught our attention. “It was taken out back, and it’s blurry like it was taken through a window.”
“You thinking…” Creed shook his head at the realization. “It’s from that old shed?”
“It’s possible.”
The room went still.
This could be the missing piece we’d been searching for, and everyone in the room knew it. Grim shook his head and grumbled, “So close nobody bothered looking.”
Preacher turned to him and Ghost as he said, “Only one way to find out if he’s there.”
They both stood, along with Goose and Memphis. As they started for the door, Preacher warned, “Go in slow… If he’s in there, he’ll be watching.”
Grim gave him a nod, and then they both started out of the room. The rest of us stood to follow but stopped when Preacher raised his hand. “Easy there, boys. We don’t want to spook this guy. Head to the back corner of the garage. You can cover them from there.”
I nodded, and then the rest of us followed Prez to the garage. I made my way over to the back window and pulled out my Glock. Rusty and the others did the same, and with Prez standing at our side, we watched Grim and Ghost move toward the shed with Memphis and Goose trailing behind them.
They went in at the side, hoping he wouldn’t have a good view of them as they eased up to the door. I held my breath as Grim lifted his foot and slammed it against the door, splitting it on its hinges. He and Ghost rushed inside, and Memphis and Goose darted in behind them.
They were all out of our view. I didn’t like it. Every instinct I had told me to rush to that damn shed and make sure my brothers were okay.
But just as quickly as they’d stormed in, Grim and Goose came barreling out, dragging a man between them. Rusty blew out a relieved breath. “They got him!”
I felt the relief in his voice. They’d done it. They’d found him and were bringing him in. We returned our guns to their holsters and waited as they hauled the man through the garage and into one of Grim’s empty workrooms.
Memphis and Goose helped string him up with his hands bound over his head, and I finally got a good look at him.
His hair was long and oily, and he was wearing dirty jeans and a weathered cut.
There was a jagged scar across the edge of his jaw, and his face and neck were tatted up with everything from stars and broken hearts to coyotes howling at the moon.
His dark eyes swept across the room, cold and hollow.
And when he spotted Grim’s tools on the wall, a sinister smile crept across his face.
It wasn’t the smile of a man who’d been caught. It was the smile of a man who thought he already knew how this was going to end.
This wasn’t just another Coyote.
This was the man we’d been chasing all along.
No one said a word. We all just stood there, glaring at Chains, and he glared right back with that damn smile on his face. Hell, the crazy bastard looked damn near amused. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was exactly where he’d expected to end up.
Grim patted him down, then cut away his shirt, exposing even more tattoos and gnarled scars.
The grin never left his face, and that bothered me more than I cared to admit.
I learned a long time ago that a man who knew no fear was a different kind of dangerous.
Chains might’ve gotten under my skin, but Grim looked completely unfazed.
He had a job to do, and he would use any means necessary to get it done. Prez stood there watching the scene unfold, and I saw a glimmer of concern. I wondered if he was worried, like me, that we might’ve found him, but our troubles weren’t over.
Prez looked over to me and Shep as he announced, “Need you boys to do a sweep of that shed and see what this asshole’s been up to. Take Memphis and Goose with you.”
Without another word, the four of us made our way out of the garage to the back field. The shed was bigger than it appeared, but it was in rough shape. It had no electricity, no toilet, and barely enough light from the window to see two feet in front of our faces.
There was a table under the window with a chair and some electrical devices. I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, but it didn’t look good. Goose leaned over the table, trying to get a better look as he asked, “What the hell is all this?”
Shep stepped up and immediately answered, “Looks like a detonator.”
“A detonator for what?”
“That’s the question of the hour.”
Shep picked it up and was looking it over when Memphis said, “Check this out.”
He brought over a map that was covered in red X’s.
One at the clubhouse. One at the Vault. Another at Prez’s place.
Another at Grim’s. My stomach tightened as Shep turned his focus to the writing below.
“South fence, twelve inches… Garage entrance, east corner… Left dumpster, back panel… Son of a bitch.”