Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
I startle when my phone rings and, with my eyes still closed, grab it from my bedside table. On autopilot, I slide my thumb from left to right across the screen and press it to my ear. “Yeah,” I mumble sleepily.
Pax starts talking right away. “The Kid mentioned a possible transport, but he claims he knows nothing else. He said he’d call me if he heard anything, and he’s got my phone number.”
“You know he can trace you now, right?” I grumble, lying down on my back and rubbing my face. I glance at the alarm clock, which shows that it’s two a.m.
“Duh, but I thought this was more important. The least we can do is see what happens.” Pax’s voice sounds tired.
“Right. Did the kiddo find anything yet?”
“Not much. He’s gone through everything, but can’t find anything about locations or dates.”
“Damn it,” I curse. With a deep sigh, I mumble, “Thanks, man. Go to sleep. We’ll see what we can find in the morning.” I throw my phone on the nightstand and press my face into the pillow with a groan. “Where are you, Laynie?”
I walk up to Colt’s porch, a large cup of coffee in my hand.
The familiar creaking of the wood under my feet as I walk toward the door soothes me.
The house blends beautifully into the surrounding forest thanks to the dark green color Colt painted it.
I bang my fist on the door a few times and take a sip.
My gaze wanders through the forest. Footsteps echo from behind the door.
With red-rimmed eyes, he opens the door and gestures for me to come in.
“Jesus, did you sleep at all?” I ask as I kick off my shoes next to the door.
His tongue slides over his lower lip, causing his snake bite piercing to twist. “No coffee?” he replies dryly.
Shaking my head, I walk further into the minimalist’s home and follow him to his office.
As soon as we step inside, my jaw drops. “What the fuck, Colt?”
The desk—which runs across the entire length of the back wall—has five computer screens linked.
Each screen displays something different, and I haven’t got a clue what I’m looking at.
“What’ve you found out so far?” There’s a second, simple office chair, which I grab and roll over to the screens.
Colton sits down in his luxurious office chair and clicks through a few things.
The screen changes on two of the monitors, and I decide to focus on those.
“Dragonfly sent me some information she dug up. She has other connections than I do, and we help each other out regularly. It took a little longer than expected to decipher everything.”
“Decipher?”
He nods. “We send everything encrypted and often in some kind of code.” He waves his hand to indicate that he won’t go into too much detail because I wouldn’t understand it anyway.
“So I had to decode everything. In the meantime, I’ve found out that she’s discovered serious connections between Vanderberg and the Knights of Mayhem.
Not just the suspicions we’ve had, but real shit that links them together. ”
“Like what?” I raise my eyebrows and try to make sense of the documents.
“She found payments on both Vanderberg’s and the Knights of Mayhem’s accounts. They originate from the same foreign accounts. She tried to crack the foreign account details, but she hasn’t been able to do so yet.”
“How do you know she’s a woman? You don’t know her, do you?”
“I’ve, er… I’m not sure, but it’s just a gut feeling.
” He sighs and clicks on something else.
“There was a list of all the real estate Vanderberg ever owned. I put it next to a list I compiled of the Knights of Mayhem. At least half of those buildings were once owned by Vanderberg.” Colt glances cautiously at me.
“Too many to single out one location?”
He visibly cringes. “I’ve narrowed it down to ten possibilities, but if we choose the wrong one, they’ll know we’re onto them.” A list of addresses appears.
“Have you looked at addresses in this area versus other locations?” I study the list more closely.
“Of course, but that still gives us a lot to go on. It’s a huge red flag that those fuckers own so much real estate; it strongly implies their involvement with Vanderberg.”
“What I’m wondering is why they put all the real estate in the MC’s name? It would make more sense to keep it in the individuals’ names so it can’t be traced back to the club unless you’re really using it for business. But that’s a lot of buildings.”
“Those ten are in this area. The rest are scattered across the country. There’s even a few abroad.
I imagine they’re used for the trafficking operation.
But these ten… I was just about to look them up on Google Maps.
I’m sure a few will be ruled out as unsuitable for human trafficking, because that’s still what we think, right? ”
I nod reluctantly. God, I hope we’re wrong.
“So that’s what I’m doing. Comparing and crossing off. What’s Pax got?” His fingers fall from the keyboard and he turns his chair toward me.
“Nothing. Nada. Niente. Just picked up a stalker, is all.”
“What? A stalker?“ A strand of black hair falls over Colt’s forehead.
“He gave his number to The Kid after he promised to contact him if he heard anything.” I sigh and rise.
A deep frown appears on Colt’s forehead. “Pax would never give his number unless he seriously thinks The Kid will call him.”
“Or as a sign of trust,” I mutter. “He said he wanted to wait and see.” I walk to the door. ”Thanks, man. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know, and vice versa?”
He nods at me and gets up.
“I’ll find the way out.” I pat him on the shoulder and walk out of the room.
I pause for a moment on the porch to take in the forest. Maybe I should ask my cousin Alex if he’s heard any rumors among the hitmen. Even though he can’t say anything on the record, he might let something slip that can’t be traced back to him.
I drive the final stretch slowly across the beach, heading toward the old trailer my dad once set up here. Alex’s already standing next to me before I’ve even unfolded my stand.
“Hey man, no word you were coming?” He takes a drag from his cigarette and squints his left eye as smoke drifts into it.
“Nope, it was kind of a last-minute thing.” I walk up the stairs after him and kick off my shoes at the front door. As I enter, the smell of coffee fills the air.
“Coffee? I just made some.” My cousin takes the pot from under the maker and pours himself a mug.
“I’m good, thanks.”
I sit on the kitchen’s built-in bench, closing my eyes briefly. If Alex doesn’t know anything, then I’m out of options, and I have to find Layne.
“What’s going on?” Raising his eyebrows, he pulls up a chair on the other side of the table in front of a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. He picks up the spoon, takes a bite, and glances at me over the bowl.
I tell him what’s happened in the past month.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“You could say that. She’s got to come home, Alex. There’s no other option. Rebel is inseparable from her mother, and…” I grit my teeth.
“And you’re going to lose it without her,” he simply says.
The muscle in my jaw twitches. “If she isn’t safe, then yeah, I will,” I mumble.
“Lemme think.” His one hand slides across his forehead and the other’s still furiously shoveling his breakfast into his mouth. “Vanderberg? Knights of Mayhem? Trafficking?” He mumbles around the cereal.
I just nod.
“I work for a lot of organizations, Ky, but as far as I know, the Knights of Mayhem keep everything in-house, and I’ve never heard of Vanderberg.
I’m in a different scene than you, so don’t start about The Kid hearing about him.
All I know is that he sometimes hires a buddy to collect money.
But murder? Never heard of it either.” He shakes his head.
“Trafficking isn’t really something you need a hitman for, man. Sorry.”
“I understand.” I bury my head in my hands.
“I’m really sorry, Ky, but I’m more into murder cases than black market stuff.” He sighs. “I wish I could help you. I really do.”
“I know,” I mumble. Suddenly, my phone vibrates, and I fumble for it in my pocket.
Pax: The Kid called. He’ll probably know more by tonight. He wants to talk to me.
Adrenaline rushes through me, and I start typing furiously.
Me: I’m coming with. No buts. I want to know what he has to say. Let me know what time.
“Good news?”
I’m startled by Alex’s voice. I mumble something unintelligible and then say, “Not good, not bad. No progress yet, but there’s hope. Thanks, man.” I get up and walk to the door.
“No need to thank me. I did nothing to help you. If you need me, you know where to find me.” My cousin walks over to the coffee machine and refills his mug.
“Yeah, later.” Just as my phone rings, I walk out the door.
“Kyler,” I mumble into the receiver.
Asher’s voice comes over the phone. “Yo, I just got a call from someone from the Knights of Mayhem.”
“What the fuck?” I swing my leg over the saddle of my motorcycle.
“They got my brother, Ky. They claim he stormed in there with his guns blazing. We can pick him up, but they’re pissed.” He sighs deeply. “Who the fuck do I call and where do we meet?”
Goddammit, goddammit, goddammit. What the fuck was Brooks thinking? “Okay.” I pause for a moment.
“Ky?”
“Lemme think. Call Pax, Colt… Fuck this.” I sigh too. “Not Colt, he’s busy. Okay, forget Pax too. I’ll call Dad.” Before Asher can protest, I disconnect. I got no choice but to call Dad.
Almost immediately, I press my phone back to my ear. “Dad,” I grumble when he answers. “They’ve got Brooks. That idiot went off by himself.”
Another sigh. “That kid’s gonna be the death of me. Call Crusher, Tats, and Josh and go get him, Ky. Do what you gotta do.”
As soon as the call ends, I do as he says, and not even twenty minutes later, we’re at our destination.
Crusher is bouncing on the balls of his feet and cracking his neck.