Delta_Ricochet

by Cristin Harber

  “Everything good,” Jared asked.

  Colin realized Boss Man had him pegged.

  “Yeah, perfect.” He toned down any facial expressions that might’ve escaped without him knowing. “Ready for this job is all.”

  Brock and Jared both eyed him, both “Uh-huhing” before the conversation returned to the next few weeks of press events, galas, and award ceremonies. The simple conversation ended—almost. Colin could sense there was more. Even worse, he knew he was the only one who didn’t know what it was.

  “If this is about a few minutes ago,” he added, quickly trying to break the uncomfortable tension. “My head’s in the game. I’m stoked for tonight.”

  And damn Parker for getting in his head earlier. He’d say damn Lenora and Adelia for getting themselves into a Mayhem headache, but he didn’t want to say that about Adelia.

  Jared glanced at Parker, and Brock did the same to Jared. There was more to the story than they were letting him in on.

  “What? I’m starting to feel like the new guy about to be hazed.”

  Titan Group operated under the idea that information flowed in all directions, which meant Delta should have everything it needed. He was second in command now. But if there was any hesitation with information, did that mean there was a doubt about his position?

  Everything Colin had worked on seemed called into question. His chest tightened.

  Brock ran a hand over his chin. “We have a couple…”

  “Oddities?” Parker suggested.

  “I don’t know what the fuck to call ‘em,” Jared said.

  “Whatever they are, they’re on our back burner,” Brock said. “Whether we add them to the profile or not—”

  The war room door swung open, and Javier nostril’s flared as he raged in the doorway. “Can I speak with you?”

  “Who?” Jared’s dark eyes narrowed, his irritation evident, but so was his curiosity. Javier could be a hothead, but he wasn’t an idiot.

  “I don’t care if Parker stays or not.”

  Jared lifted his chin. “Shut the door behind you.”

  The fury pouring off Javier was palpable. His clenched fists and straining jawline reminded Colin of Javier’s street fighting days. The door slammed as he stalked toward the head of the table. His angry glare met Colin.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” Jared asked.

  “Adelia called,” Javier spat out, not looking away from Colin. “She wants to know where this asshole is.”

  Damn it to hell. He didn’t need this spilling over at work, and he didn’t need Adelia upset with him. “I’m going to find her later.”

  “You know where she is?”

  “Yeah,” Colin confirmed.

  “You know what’s going on with her?”

  He tapped his molars together, not sure what Adelia wanted shared with her brother or what she might have already said. “I know enough—”

  “Enough?” Javier leaned closer. “You come into my house, talk to my wife, eat my food, and talk about my sister like you might be interested in Adelia and—”

  “He knew enough to loop us in.” Brock’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Now if you want to march your ass out of here, and we’ll talk later.”

  “You know Mayhem’s got her pegged for dead?” Javier shot back.

  “Look.” Colin raised his hands a couple inches. “Lenora’s been with her. I’m going to see her. This will work out.”

  “With those crazy MC fuckers?” Javier shouted. “Bullshit!”

  Frustration pursed on Jared lips, and he stroked his beard. “Ease up.”

  “No—”

  “Then stand the fuck down.” Jared laid his fist on the table. “We’re planning an op. See yourself out before I do it for you.”

  Javier pivoted. “So long as you take care of her tonight, I don’t care. And then you—”

  “We’re wheels up tonight,” Colin said.

  Javier’s jaw hung slack before he slapped his lips closed, looking away then eying Colin hard. “You fucked up. You know that, right?”

  “How’d I fuck up? Give me a break. She’s a grown woman, capable of more than either of us know.”

  “Now you’re just saying whatever. You and I both know you need to get to her. None of us have any idea how deep she’s in.”

  “Get to Iowa when this is done,” Brock snapped. “Now it’s done. Javier, get out.”

  “She’s not in Iowa,” Colin said.

  Brock’s eyebrow arched. “Where is she?”

  “Baltimore.”

  “Maryland?” Jared asked. “What the hell? I thought you said she had money problems with Mayhem.”

  Colin shook his head. “I’m not clear about everything. Lenora was vague at best.”

  “Baltimore?” Jared muttered. “Parker?”

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “What does Mayhem have going on in Baltimore?”

  “First guess,” Parker said. “Cargo and shipping at the docks.”

  “Fucking Mayhem.” Jared turned to Brock, silently asking his thoughts.

  Brock leaned back in rolling office chair, and Parker queued up a map of the location. They stared at the outline of the land and waterways.

  “Where does Mayhem receive their imports?” Brock asked.

  “Everywhere,” Parked answered, “depending on their source. They’ve got more ports of call than a cruise line.”

  “Not that we’re interfering—but what do we think the issue is?” Jared ran his hands over his face. “Adelia screwed with their gun imports? Why would she do that?”

  “Would she?” Brock asked. “I thought the issue was financial. Did she lift weapons? Short change someone?”

  Colin couldn’t wrap his head around his conversation, and Javier growled.

  “Shit.” Jared pinched the bridge of his nose. “Change of plans.”

  The silence ticked forever, and Colin had no idea what Boss Man was coming up with. He’d looped Brock and Jared in, in case… He didn’t know what. But all this happening at once: Javier’s pissed, Titan having intel and not sharing it with him before they were interrupted, and damn it, he needed to get to Adelia, needed to do his job, and he had no idea what was really going on with her.

  “Colin, you’re out on this one. Javier, calm your ass down and sit.”

  Javier didn’t budge, and, stunned, Colin went cold.

  “Sit,” Jared snapped. “Brock needs another man on to help with the security detail on a human rights advocate.” Jared moved his hand toward Javier. “And, Colin, find Adelia. Straighten this out with Mayhem. Get them to talk it out, find their money, whatever the hell. They’re not going to slaughter their own.”

  “They might,” Colin said under his breath. That was how much trust he had in Mayhem.

  “Then make sure they don’t,” Brock added. “Without involving us.”

  Titan Group was hands off when it came to Mayhem, and he didn’t want to know why.

  Colin pushed from the war room table, curtly nodding at Brock and Jared, leaving the chair out if Javier wanted it, and told Parker he’d be in contact later.

  Maryland with Adelia was better than Connecticut with Gloria Astor, sitting outside of some swank party anyway. He threw the door open and slammed it on the way out.

  But no matter how pissed he was at Javier and worried he was for Adelia, Colin couldn’t kick the feeling that the room of men who should always trust him had an ounce of doubt.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  It wasn’t often that Lenora worried. She wasn’t sure that she knew how. But she’d quickly categorized the emotion when her feet touched back in Iowa and she couldn’t reach Tex. That spelled a hundred kinds of trouble and revamped her lobby-for-Adelia plan on the fly.

  First things first, Lenora needed the facts, and Mayhem was ground zero. The compound was cold and dark. The lights were off in the parlor room. She powered through the empty space.

  Where the hell was everybody? There wasn’t
a single person here, though at least half a dozen Harleys were lined up outside. None were her man’s, and that continued to eat at her. If Lenora found out Tex was looking for Adelia for the wrong reasons, she’d be the first one to put a bullet in his ass. That old son of a bitch had better be doing the good Lord’s work in looking for Adelia.

  The door to the meeting room was sealed, and on the off chance that Mayhem leadership was in there, she banged as politely as she could manage.

  “Yeah?” Hawke called.

  Color her surprised. Lenora twisted the knob on the ornately carved door and let herself in. It was just the club president sitting at the head of the table, papers in front of him in the dim light. “Mind if I join you?”

  Hawke leaned back in the old chair, its leather creaking. He ran his hands to his worn leather coat. “Hey, hon. What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for Tex.”

  “Everyone bailed. Keeping a low profile.”

  “What are you going to do about Ethan?”

  Hawke shrugged. “Hell, if I know.”

  She pulled a chair near the corner of the dirty, scarred table and joined him. “Been a while since it was this quiet.”

  He tilted his head. His eyes narrowed in the way he studied people, saying volumes without muttering a whisper.

  “I saw her.”

  “And?”

  “She was alive when I left.”

  Hawke nodded. “You know more than you’re saying?”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “Have you talked to him about this?”

  “About which part?” She tapped her fingernails on the table. “And would it matter, because I wouldn’t tell you.”

  He barely cracked a smile. “Sorry that it has to come down like this.”

  Lenora nodded. “Can’t take money from the club and not face the consequences.”

  Hawke ran his hand across the scruff on his cheeks. “You’re not acting concerned for Tex. Why’s that?”

  “Have you ever seen him do something he shouldn’t for Mayhem? Whatever happened between him and Ethan? It’ll pan out.”

  “A mother’s love.” Hawke leaned back and stroked his chin.

  “Bullshit, I’m not her mother.”

  “You know, I remember that day we found her all the way down there in Brazil.”

  “I didn’t meet Tex too long after that,” she added.

  “Seems like it was just last week.” Hawke’s deep laugh rumbled. “Man, talk about wrong place, wrong time, and the wrong dickhead to do business with, but then there was this wisp of a girl. Just a kid.”

  Lenora thought back on how long she’d known Adelia, and her heart squeezed until her throat burned. “Been a while.”

  “Little Adelia, paraded out in her skivvies.” Hawke cringed. “By her own flesh and blood. Put up for auction like livestock.”

  “Doesn’t get much worse than that,” Lenora whispered over the slice of pain she wanted to ignore.

  “Can’t imagine it does. What kind of piece-of-shit father sells his daughter? And Tex walked over, threw money at the bastard, walked Adelia down, and gave her clothes and a wad of cash.”

  “We’d never talked about it.” Lenora hadn’t asked for specifics, and Tex hadn’t shared.

  Hawke stopped stroking his chin, seeming somewhat shocked. “No?”

  “Not-uh.”

  Hawke belly laughed. “Probably because your old man was traumatized.”

  Lenora’s eyebrow crooked. It wasn’t often that Hawke full on laughed. “What do you mean?”

  “I think he envisioned more of a catch-and-release program.”

  “Really?”

  A tired grin broke on Hawke’s face. “There was a language barrier, not at first. Tex let her go. We went our way. She went hers. What happened in our time apart? Fuck if I know, but we’re heading back, and I’ll be damned if that poor girl hasn’t been double-crossed by some backstabbing whore her father pimped.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “The asshole grabbed his daughter again, and he’s trying to sell her, but this time, she was hurt, a bloody mess, beaten within an inch of her life, strung up by her hands and unconscious.”

  Tears brimmed, and Lenora prayed she wouldn’t let them fall in front of Hawke. “What happened?”

  “The slimy motherfucker’s gathering folks to sell her again, and we’re just watching this shit show—like this ain’t right, but we ain’t the fuckin’ police.” Hawke put his elbows on the scarred table. “We have our code. We’re in another country, and we’re loaded with our product now. No need to cause a stir.”

  Elevated risk. Lenora could understand. “So?”

  “Tex walks up in front of everyone, next to her dickhead pimp father, pulls out a big-ass serrated knife, cuts her down, and throws her over his shoulder. Says something like, ‘I believe this belongs to me,’ and marches off.”

  “What!” Lenora’s heart exploded, and her rogue tears fell.

  Tex never bragged, but how hadn’t she ever heard this? Mayhem couldn’t keep their mouths shut half the time. She was their damn lawyer! She knew better than most.

  Hawke chuckled, ignoring her tears. “We stuck around for an extra day, planning to get Adelia to a good place. But where the fuck was that? We had no clue. Neither did she. She just wanted to go wherever we were headed as long as we could go back and get her brother.”

  “Javier?” Lenora’s throat seized again.

  “Yup. Man, we were in Brazil for fuckin’ ever.” Hawke shook his head. “Late with our product. Missed our deadline. That kid had bailed. We looked for him for two days, all of us. But really, we didn’t know what the shit the kid looked like. Adelia was so banged up, she wasn’t much use, and her English was de nada.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone share that story?”

  He lifted a heavy shoulder. “Fresh starts and challenging work mean no time to focus on the past.”

  She loved Tex even more. Wherever that old bastard was, Lenora was sure he was doing what it took to keep Adelia alive, and that was what she was going to do too, in her own motherly way. Even if she had no idea what a mother might do.

  “Anyway,” Hawke grumbled. “Enough about history.”

  She took a sobering breath. “What’re you looking at?”

  “Bank statements.”

  Geez. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “I’ll let you work then.”

  “You know anything about this stuff?”

  More than Hawke will ever know. No one in Mayhem had clued in to the fact that Adelia wasn’t a solo act. Lenora wasn’t sure what they thought she was doing, but she knew Mayhem had her pegged for skimming money out of their chapter accounts, and that was all that mattered. No one was going to ask why or if she had help, and that was one of Adelia’s goals from the get-go.

  “Mmm, I don’t know. Probably not.” Lenora shifted to the edge of her seat.

  “Look at this.” Hawke thrust papers in front of her anyway. “This money is all where it’s supposed to be.” He spread out dozens of papers. “It’s all gun imports and sales, chapter dues, miscellaneous we expect from garages and so on. Then there is this money.” He tapped his finger on lines highlighted in purple. “This comes in to the main account from chapter accounts.”

  “Look at you all fancy with your highlighters.” Lenora pressed her lips together, feigning no knowledge of Adelia’s random actions. Even printed out and highlighted, they seemed unconnected and well done. If someone wasn’t looking for them and was unaware of Mayhem’s gun orders and shipments, it would be hard to pinpoint abnormal activity.

  “But then there’s this.” Hawke tapped yellow highlights. “Every month, the exact same amount of money says it’s pending a transfer. It’s as though it’s the same transfer, constantly pending, not going anywhere.”

  Lenora had clients like that. Every month, they promised they’d pay, and every month their names were on her open accounts receivable section. It reached the
point where she glossed over their names, not even seeing them anymore, even though they were still there. But it wasn’t as if she was going to send mobsters and gang leaders to collections.

  “Maybe a payment’s stuck?” she offered. “Maybe we sent a wire transfer to an account that closed. Something like that?”

  “I called the bank.”

  Lenora tilted her head, suddenly curious. “And?”

  “They said it’s a reoccurring payment sent at the end of every banking cycle. It clears just after the statement closes.”

  Curiosity morphed into Spidey senses lighting on fire, and those babies tingled when something had run amok. “Meaning what?”

  “The exact same amount of money is leaving Mayhem every month. What is she doing with all that money?” Hawke leaned back in his chair.

  An apprehensive flash rushed over her arms. There was zero chance. Or was there? Did she know everything about Adelia? “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, we’ve been losing a steady five grand every month for years.”

  They’d been skimming money to pay for girls and set them free nearly every month for years. Shit. “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t fuckin’ question me again, Lenora.”

  She inched closer to check the transactions. “How far back did you go?”

  “Far enough.”

  “How’d Ethan not see this?”

  “If he was here, I might ask the fucker,” Hawke grumbled. “But your old man made that a little tricky.”

  She ignored the sarcasm and tapped the paper. “Where’s it going?”

  “I dunno.”

  “This one?” Lenora studied the statements again. “If everything in purple goes to another account, you’re telling me yellow goes…”

  “To Adelia’s back pocket.”

  To someone’s back pocket. “I don’t buy it.”

  “Then where is it?” He rapped the table. “Find me my money.”

  “Did the bank tell you a final deposit location?”

  “Anonymous off-shore account.”

  No way was that Adelia. Then again, look at all she’d organized. Doubt clouded Lenora’s steadfast resolve. If she hadn’t known how Tex and Adelia first came together, what else might she not know?

  “I see your wheels turning.”