Leave a Trail

by Susan Fanetti

  When he struck the gavel, though, his face realigned into solemnity. “To order, brothers. We got things to talk about. Nothing we have to leap up to deal with right now, but all of it deadly serious. First—Santaveria contacted me. He’s calling in his pet bitch for a special job. And I think the window we’ve been waiting for is open—or we gotta bust through that fucker, because we’re not doing the job.”

  Badger remembered nothing about being shackled to a wall, Havoc dead at his side, while Santaveria ‘met’ with Isaac. But he knew that the Perro boss thought he’d brought Isaac and the Horde to their knees. In the past year, though, he had not called on them to do anything but the weed run—and, of course, to stop planning against him. They had not done the latter, though they had been more careful and circumspect—and thus much slower—in trying to plan. In fact, working only with the Scorpions LA, and under heavy cover, they hadn’t managed to make a workable plan yet.

  Len asked, “What’s the job? We should vote?”

  Show answered—not surprisingly, Isaac and Show had already discussed it. “He wants us to take out the Brazen Bulls at the next weed pickup.”

  “What do you mean, ‘take them out’?”

  Isaac turned and faced Badger as he answered his question with a question. “What do you think it means?”

  “He wants us to take out a whole fucking MC?” Len’s jaw had literally dropped. “Why the fuck?”

  “He’s not exactly forthcoming with the details. We’ll vote—of course we’ll vote. But my vote is a loud fuckin’ ‘nay.’ Becker is a friend. We’ve been skimpy with our trust lately, but he’s still a friend, trapped in the cartel snare, same as we are. And the Bulls are a little single-charter club like us. I do not want to take them out in the service of that piece of filth. So if we buck Santaveria, that’s our hand played, one way or the other. Next weed run, we fight. Whether we can win or not. Ride or die.”

  “Put the vote up, boss.” Show’s voice was low.

  “All in favor of taking out the Brazen Bulls on Perro Blanco orders? Nay.”

  They went around the table. Nobody even paused. Unanimous.

  Isaac smiled a different kind of smile from the one he’d worn so comfortably in the Hall, watching his kids play with puppies. This smile was a grim rictus, an expression of weary resignation. “Okay. We have a couple of weeks before the next run. That’s the time we have to plan. Dom, I need to be able to talk to Hoosier in depth off the grid. Can you and Bart do your code thing today and get a message out?”

  “Yeah, boss. No sweat. And I have other stuff to bring up.”

  “I know. Let’s clear this first. I want to bring Becker in. Whatever we got goin’ is goin’ down on his turf—or at least it’s starting there. Any discussion about that, extending our trust that far?”

  Badger shook his head, and saw his brothers doing the same.

  “Okay. Show, Len, Badge—when we get it set up, we’ll meet with the Bulls.”

  “I don’t like that, boss.” Len leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table. “You know it’s not good to put all the leadership on the same run, not with shit so hot.”

  “Gotta be us. We show him respect and trust when we put the whole top of the table in front of him. We’re telling him heavy news. It’s us.”

  “But why me, then?” Badger wasn’t club leadership; he didn’t understand his role on the run.

  “Because I want you there, Badge.”

  At Isaac’s simple statement, Len turned to Badger with a knowing smile. Was this more ‘future of the Horde’ stuff? Badger didn’t know and didn’t wish to confront the idea while sitting at the table. So he nodded and let it drop.

  Isaac leaned back. “Once again, Dom, the weight’s on you. And you’ve got news for the table, right?”

  “Yeah, boss.” Dom looked around the table. “It’s Seaver. A lot of news. We had a breakthrough with the code—not all of it; names are coded differently. But some detail. Something else first. I think it was Seaver who did the fire at the B&B, and I think I might know why.”

  The rest of the table reacted, but Isaac only nodded. Of course, Dom would have brought this news to Isaac first, but the boss was giving the floor to Dom. Badger was glad to see it. Dom had struggled to fill Bart’s shoes; his learning curve had been steep. But it looked like he was topping it. “It’s not proof. With everything else going down, I don’t know if I can find proof. But I found a connection to Signal Bend. A reason that Seaver might have such a hard-on for us. And I was thinking about what Badger said, about Seaver trying to turn the town against us and maybe bein’ mad when they had our back at the Spring Fest. I was tryin’ to think why he was after us so hard, so fast.”

  “Get to it, Dom.” The impatience in Isaac’s voice was clear.

  Dom cleared his throat. “Mac Evans and Leon Seaver are cousins.”

  Show sat up. “What? Wait—we know his kin. He came up here in town.”

  “Not this kin. Mother’s side.”

  It felt to Badger like the whole table was working that through in unison. When Show nodded, signaling that he’d processed the new information, he did so for the group and then asked the next obvious question. “Okay, go on…why blow the B&B and hurt people?”

  “Evans has known our fist more than once, Show,” Isaac answered. “We about crippled him the last time. He’s a smarmy little puke and deserved what he got, but if they’re close, it might be cause to take extreme measures to get us gone.”

  “They’re close. Summers together when they were kids. Holidays together still. He was probably coming from Seaver’s house the night he hit Nolan.”

  “Still doesn’t add, does it?” Len asked. “Would our law-and-order Sheriff get his hands this dirty? Arson—and murder? Attempted murder? That’s heavy shit.”

  “He tried to clear the place. We know he wasn’t anywhere near the fire, because he slowed you guys down when you were on your way. Think about that: He slowed you down. I think he put out a contract and the guy he hired muffed it. Or just didn’t care if somebody got killed. I don’t think Seaver wanted anybody hurt, though. Except us. I think his plan just went balls up.”

  “If that’s true—if he has an innocent death on his conscience, that could be a way in with him.” Show swiped his hand over his beard, pulling it thoughtfully.

  “If he has an innocent death on his conscience, I don’t want a way in with him, Show. I want to end him—life or career or both.” Isaac sat back.

  The table was quiet, taking all that in. Badger’s head was whirring frantically, making new connections. A whole lot was beginning to come clear. It was beginning to feel like all the disparate tensions that had been pulling the Horde in too many directions to manage, trying to pull them apart, might not be so disparate after all.

  And then Dom said something that filled in the final piece. “I got more. The code. Seaver is definitely talking to a Fed. He was talking to two of them for a while—the one in St. Louis put him with another guy. Now he interfaces with the other guy on a regular basis. He’s DHS. And he’s inside the Perros. Lilli’s sure of it.”

  “Wait. Again. Seaver is connected to the Perros?” Len’s brow wrinkled deeply under his eye patch.

  “By a few degrees of separation. Don’t think he knows. I don’t think he realizes exactly who he’s talking to. Lilli picked up a couple of things in their emails, and had me trace the IP bounce. I ended up in Caborca, Mexico. That’s Perro Central. Can’t be a coincidence.”

  “You think the Feds are using Seaver.” The picture was nearly complete in Badger’s head.

  Isaac answered. “Why not? Small-time county Sheriff with a bug up his ass about an MC, MC in bed with a major drug player—use Seaver to wear us down, make him think he’s getting help on a big bust, then ride us in to take the cartel down—or at least disrupt them. Feds’ wet dream—Perros down, us locked up, the little Sheriff left standin’ alone in the cold with his dick in his hand.”

  “Jesus Chr
ist.” Len laughed darkly. “I feel like a dosed chick at a frat party. Everybody wants their turn fuckin’ us.”

  “And the B&B fits in how?” Show was the only one at the table who looked completely calm.

  Dom checked with Isaac, and when the boss nodded his permission, Dom picked up his story. “Side project. It doesn’t, just shit going to hell at once. The LA bombing happening so close to the B&B fire is really just a coincidence. I guess they happen sometimes. Seaver’s link to the cartel is the only connection, and it doesn’t make them related. It’s correlation, not causation—he doesn’t know he has any link to the cartel. He’s just after us, any way he can get us. Maybe he’s starting to feel like the Feds aren’t giving him the help he thought they were.”

  Isaac sat forward again. “There are gaps. They’re using a code in a code, and it shifts. Pretty sophisticated. Lilli’s a little rusty and she hasn’t been able to crack it. Names, dates, those details—still unknown.”

  “Can she get help? Maybe Bart?” Badger was sure Bart would help.

  “Too risky.”

  “We don’t trust him?”

  “Not what I mean—it’s too risky for him. You know he’s got a flashing light on his head right now. The Perros are watching him, the Scorpions mother charter is watching him. We can’t ask him to take this on. It’ll get him killed for sure. It’s Lilli and Dom. If they can’t get it done in time, we go in a little blind.”

  Len laughed again. “Okay. Checking for understanding. This is our theory: Seaver hired out to blow the B&B, as some kind of payback for what we’ve done to Evans over the years—and to try to turn the town against us for good and all. There’s a DHS agent undercover in the Perros, and he’s using Seaver to use us to implode the cartel. That cartel wants us to kill an entire MC, friends of ours. And we have no way of fighting back against any of it, but we’re fighting anyway. Am I right?”

  Isaac nodded. “You are, brother. But now’s the time to find the way. One way or another, this shit will all come to an end very soon.”

  “Fuck. Days like this, I wish I just sold hardware.” Len crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head.

  ~oOo~

  After the Keep, the Horde all were still dazed and uncharacteristically quiet. Badger figured everybody was doing what he was doing—fitting their world into this new picture. He was of two minds about the news. In some ways, it was a relief to know that everything they’d been going through, all the demons they’d been fighting, were all connected in some way, and it was strangely satisfying that somebody like Seaver had managed to land unwittingly on the pivot point of the whole unstable balance. Like theirs weren’t the only plans that could go tits-up at a moment’s notice.

  Then again, if everything was connected, even through the weak link of Leon Seaver, that was a hell of a huge storm cloud over their heads. If it let loose before they could find shelter, they’d drown.

  None of the old ladies were in the Hall, but Nolan was sitting on the floor, his back against one of the worn, leather couches. He was playing with Loki and Bo and the puppies. Gia sat on the couch, her legs straight out before her and her feet resting on Nolan’s shoulder. She was reading loudly from a picture book.

  The other Horde went to the bar, where Thumper had started pouring drinks, but Badger went over and sat next to Gia and Nolan.

  “Where are the women?”

  “In the kitchen. Don’t know why. Lilli called them all in there.”

  “Badger, I’m reading.” Gia scowled at him.

  “Sorry, Gia. Go ahead.”

  He didn’t know if she was actually reading or had just memorized the book, but if she was reading, then he was impressed. School had only started a few days ago, and she was only in kindergarten.

  When she was finished, she closed the book and gave him a benevolent smile. “Okay. You can talk now. I’m going to find Mamma.” She scooted off the couch, her book tucked under her arm. Before she left, she turned and wagged a finger at Nolan and Badger both. “Keep an eye on the boys, now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Satisfied, she turned and trotted off toward the kitchen.

  Hector was near his feet, so Badger picked him up and set him on his lap. He immediately settled down and got comfortable, his little head moving as he tracked the play of his siblings.

  Nolan looked over his shoulder. “The puppies are cool. I’m glad you found them.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. You got a name for yours?”

  “Thor.”

  Badger considered the blonde pup barreling into Kodi at that moment. “Yeah. That’s good. Hav would’ve dug it.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too.”

  Loki climbed into Nolan’s lap, leaned back against his brother’s chest, and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Nolan kissed the top of his head. “Tired, pal?” Loki nodded, and Nolan shifted so that his baby brother could lie back more.

  Stroking Hector’s soft fur—amazing how calming petting an animal could be—Badger asked, “How’s school starting?”

  Nolan shrugged, then answered quietly, “Okay. Don’t care much. I’d just drop out, but my mom would hate that. I promised her I’d finish, so I will. But there’s not really a point, except she wants me to.”

  “It’s good to finish. Even if you don’t do college—”

  “—I’m not doing college, Badge. I’m prospecting. Soon as I turn eighteen. On my birthday.” He looked over his shoulder again. “Will you sponsor me?”

  “I told you I’ll always have your back, Nolan. Yeah. I’ll sponsor you. If that’s what you want. Any of us would, you know.”

  “I want it to be you.”

  “Okay, then.” They were quiet for a while. Loki fell asleep. Bo had dumped a pile of LEGOs on the floor and was building some…thing. “How’s your mom?”

  “She’s okay. Almost normal again. Or maybe she is normal, and this is how she is now. She doesn’t play her guitar anymore. Ever. I miss that. But she’s okay. I don’t think she’s gonna try to do what she did again, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I wasn’t. I was just wondering. How about you? Okay?”

  “I will be. When I have a kutte. That’s when I’ll be okay.”

  “Riding lessons going good?”

  “Yeah. But Show says I can’t have Hav’s bike until I’m patched in.”

  “No. That’s the way that works.”

  “You think we could put the gas on this winter, try to get the Sportster up? The B&B is quiet in the winter, right? You’ll have more time?”

  “Yeah. We could do that.”

  “Cool. I need to ride.”

  Badger knew a little something about needing the Horde, needing the club, and the bike, and the leather. Needing the brotherhood. Needing it as much as blood and air. So he said only, “Yeah, I know.”

  And he wondered whether there would be a Horde for Havoc’s kid to patch into.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Adrienne woke early, feeling chilled and lonely. She rolled to the center of the bed and found Badger’s side empty, the sheets cool. He’d had a bad night, filled with terrors and the subsequent rough need that was the only thing to settle him.

  He hadn’t had nightmares that drove him to shouting wakefulness for weeks—since the fire. Her own weakness and need of him seemed to have helped him through the rest of his fight. Though for the past few days he’d seemed a little preoccupied, in general, since she’d been hurt, he’d been calmer, steadier, a strong shoulder for her to lean on. Too strong, sometimes. He’d gotten bossy, too, overprotective and rigid about what she could and couldn’t do. She thought that her silence when she was in so much pain had disturbed him more than he’d admitted, and now he did not fully trust her to convey her needs. So he’d taken it on himself to anticipate them.

  They were going to have to talk that through, because she was beginning to chafe at the limits he was trying to build around her.

  But that talk was for another day. S
he knew why last night had been hard for him. Today was the first anniversary of Havoc’s death. And of Badger’s torture. And Show’s. And Len’s.

  Badger hadn’t told her, but Lilli had gathered up all the women on the day of the puppies. They’d stood around the butcher-block island in the clubhouse kitchen and talked about what to expect from the men, and how to help them. They’d asked Cory what she and Nolan needed—on the first anniversary of losing Havoc. Adrienne had felt awkward, standing with these women who’d been through so much. She had not experienced that day with them. But Shannon had caught her hand when she’d tried to back out and had given it a squeeze, murmuring. “You stay. You belong here. You’re Badge’s old lady.”

  Their little bungalow was silent but for occasional creaks and moans of the building itself—the morning was windy and brisk. Adrienne got out of bed and grabbed the long cardigan she used as a robe on cool mornings and evenings.

  As she walked down the short hall, past the bathroom, she pulled her hair out of the collar and let it fluff down her back and over her shoulders. She was lucky, she thought, that she’d clipped her hair up that last evening in the B&B. She had lost none of it. She’d been left the vanity of her hair.

  Hector bumbled into the hallway from the kitchen. She reached down and picked him up, then went in. She set him back down when she saw the scene before her.

  Badger was sitting with his head and hands on the table, a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels a few inches from one slack hand. He didn’t really drink hard liquor, at least not anymore. With few exceptions, he stuck to beer. Especially in the six months that she’d been in Signal Bend, since his detox. She didn’t even know they’d had whiskey in the house. In fact, she was pretty sure they hadn’t. So he’d gone out in the middle of the night? And come back here to drink alone in the kitchen? A bottle of Jack?

  She was confused, but she pushed all those questions away. She didn’t like the way he was lying on the table, his mouth open, a puddle of drool under his face. It reminded her much too powerfully of that day in the barn, the day he’d punched her and called her shouted names. Now, with that memory sharp and foremost in mind, she was paralyzed. Worried about him, and afraid for herself, she didn’t know what to do.