Page 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: CHROME

Every minute that Mode remains in his coma is another minute the fucking traitor could be doing who the hell knows to destroy my club and cover his tracks. Now I understand how Dante felt when he realized that the men he trusted as brothers weren’t trustworthy. Dante had Chaos work through the club members to eliminate those who weren’t loyal. Is that what I need to do? Sick Bush on all the members until he finds the traitor? What if Bush is the traitor? He could pick out a scapegoat to suffer in his stead. This whole situation is fucking messed up! I stare at the Chicago skyline as I consider my next move.

“Have you made any headway on locating Jordan?” Eagle asks Byte.

“No,” Byte says with frustration. “I wonder if he left town.”

“Could be,” Eagle says. “He’s lost several men. Fenhua left town. Have there been more missing girls?”

“Girls always go missing, unfortunately. I’ve checked out the MP reports, but I saw nothing that pointed to Jordan or his men. Not that it doesn’t mean they aren’t responsible. He may have left Chicago, but I’m still searching for him here. He’s been using abandoned churches and similar sites. I gave Padre and Stone a list of potential sites. They said they’ll check them out. I’ve only found four potential sites. Two are slated for renovation. They have building permits and inspections on file. I haven’t found a link to the names on the permits to Jordan or his churches. Padre and Stone are checking them out. The third building is next door to a police station. I can’t see good old Teddy being so cocky as to run a brothel next door a cop shop. The fourth place is a wreck. It’s been uninhabited for decades. I’ve seen images and can’t see them using it. But Padre and Stone will verify.”

“You’ve checked transportation out of the city?” I ask.

“Yep. Planes, trains, buses, and automobiles. All covered. Had Smoke and Maestro wade through traffic cams on roads leading out of the city while I covered the rest. Nothing. I think he’s still here, but I can’t figure out where he’s hiding. He could have found a house to rent, so I’m looking into all rental advertisements for the past year. He could have found a sympathetic follower who would give him refuge. Our best option is to spot him on the streets, and that’s not a great option. Maestro has a program searching for his image.”

“This is frustrating as fuck,” I grumble. “We aren’t making any progress.”

Neither Byte nor Eagle argues, probably because there is no argument.

“I need to get back to the clubhouse. I’ve been away too much,” I say. Even though Cicely is angry with me, I can’t leave without saying goodbye. I almost take off when I hear her in the room next to Mode’s. She’s talking with Gray, but then I hear another voice. A man’s voice. I peek inside the room to see Blue sitting up in his bed. He’s awake and talking. I almost leave, but I hear something that makes me stop.

“Bikers?” Blue asks. “Demon Dawgs. That’s who I saw. I pulled over because I recognized their kuttes. They were standing on the side of the road. When I stopped, they turned around, and that’s the last thing I remember.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” I ask, unable to stop myself from barging into the room.

“Excuse me?” Blue says, startled.

“You saw two of my men standing by the SUV?”

“Well, kind of. They were standing by the road with their backs to me. That’s how I knew who they were. I pulled over because I thought they were stranded.”

“Did you see anyone else?”

“They were talking to a third man. I don’t think he was one of yours. I remember him wearing a suit. He was Asian.”

“Who attacked you?”

Blue stares off into the distance for several minutes as he tries to remember the night of his attack. He shakes his head before looking at me. “I can’t remember, but I think whoever it was hit me from behind. I’d taken off my helmet after I parked. When I called out, the three men turned to me, but I don’t remember anything after that. If I had to guess, I’d say whoever clocked me did it from behind.”

“Did you see the faces of my men?”

“No, sorry. I didn’t get a clear look at their faces. Although one was a few inches shorter than the other. I can’t tell you anything about how they looked. Not even the color of their hair. It was dark.”

I feel a presence behind me and turn to see Byte. Next to him is the doctor.

“I need to see my patient,” Dr. Kemper says. “You need to get out of my way and return to your friend’s room.”

“Right, sorry,” I mutter as I retreat into Mode’s room with Byte. “You heard?”

“Just bits and pieces,” Byte says. “It sounds like he saw the traitors.”

“He did.” I relay the information Blue provided to Byte and Eagle.

“Neither Scorch nor Trigger mentioned seeing anyone else from the club,” I say.

“You think someone ambushed your men?”

“It fits. I need to talk to Scorch and tell him what we learned. Maybe it will jog his memory.” Taking out my phone, I call Scorch, but he doesn’t answer. Usually, that means he’s at the auto shop working on a job and unable to hear his phone. Instead of calling the shop, I head over there. It’ll be easier to speak with him without someone overhearing our conversation. But first, I need to say goodbye to Cicely before leaving. Luckily, I find her at her station.

“I’m taking off,” I tell her.

She glances up and gives me a shrug. “Cicely, look…” I start, but the doctor approaches us. What I want to say to her doesn’t require an audience, so I walk away. I’m frustrated that we always seem to be walking away from each other rather than coming together.

I climb on my bike and ride to the auto shop where Scorch spends most of his time. We own a string of auto shops, along with chop shops. The auto shops are legitimate businesses that we maintain in the area. Unlike San Diego, with their various businesses, and Las Vegas, with its casino, most of our money still comes from our illegal activities. We don’t deal with drugs. Up until Dante hooked up with Tally, a trauma doctor, they sold prescription drugs smuggled up from Mexico. Puma and the Vegas Chapter moved kilos of cocaine until they had enough money to buy a failing casino. They still sold cocaine to their casino guests, but they’d backed off considerably. Our thing revolves around cars. We have chop shops and a thriving business involving high-end vehicles. We work with the club in Los Angeles to find and move expensive rides from one end of the country to the other.

Entering the auto shop, I spot Mouse sweeping the floor. I give him a wave before moving to the office.

“He’s not there,” Scorch’s mechanic, Billy, calls out just as I realize the office is empty.

“Is he at the clubhouse?” I ask.

Billy shrugs. “No idea. I haven’t seen him since he brought in the SUV. He mumbled something about unfinished business.”

I shake my head. Scorch knows Fenhua left town for San Diego.

“Okay, I’ll track him down. How’s the SUV looking? Was the damage bad?”

“Not at all. Scorch must have been able to slow the vehicle down before crashing. The front end had a dent and a few scratches, but I buffed those out. Just tuning her up, and she’ll be good to go.

“That’s good.”

“Have you seen Scorch’s new bike? It’s a beauty.”

“No. Didn’t know he was looking for one.”

“At first, I thought he bought himself a crotch rocket. It’s around the back under a tarp. I took a peek and it’s a sweet ride.”

I wander behind the shop and find the tarp, lifting it, I stare at the bike. Billy was right, it was a beauty. Custom-made with black chrome and a distinctive pattern painted on the fuselage. I stare at the swirls of blue and gray as my mind fits together all the pieces. I don’t like the image they create, but I can’t deny that each piece fits perfectly. Fuck.

Letting the tarp drop, I return to the bay. “She sure is a fucking nice piece of machinery,” I say, keeping my tone calm and my face blank. “Why did you think it was a crotch rocket?”

“A couple of Asian dudes in suits dropped it off. I thought they wanted us to repair it. Since we don’t work on bikes here, I told them to take it to our bike shop. He said that it was a delivery for Scorch.”