Honor Unraveled (11 page)

“Yeah, so, there’s a unique opportunity fixin’ to come our way,” Max said. “The eastern guys are headed in for the leadership vote. How about, before jumping to a war powwow, we see what’s on their minds? Maybe they need help with their widows and orphans fund, too.”

“They don’t get to siphon off our earnings. We don’t work for them,” a member from Cali said.

“We’re a brotherhood. We’re in it with them. It’s how it works.”

“Like Whiplash said, they broke that bond when they went after Amir’s dope, here in our own town,” Hatchet objected.
 

“Look, the best first step is to move Amir’s product out,” Max said to Pete.

Pete looked at Max and frowned. “How do you know it’s still here?”
 

“You gave Amir a tour of the compound. I overheard him bitching about your inventory level to one of his guys. What do you think the East’s using as leverage with him? You’re sitting on some expensive cargo.”

“There are Feds all over here. We can’t move it yet.”

“All the more reason to get it out.”

Pete shrugged. “It’s safe where it is. They’d never find it. Even executing a search warrant.”

“So where are we at, Pete?” Axle, the club’s secretary, asked. “What are our next steps?”

“We see where the East’s heads are. If they’re wanting to take money from our widows and orphans, then we go to war.”

“What if they vote in one of their guys as Holbrook’s replacement?” a tweaker asked.

“Read the bylaws, idiot. They can’t,” another tweaker answered. “The western region has to be led by someone from the western region.”

“And King’s narrowed that requirement. Has to be someone from this training center.” Pete looked around at the grizzled faces of the men. “You know I’m in. You guys want me to lead, I’ll do it. Who else is throwing his name in the ring?” His gaze settled on Max.

“Not me. I gotta head up to AK when we’re done here. Maybe when I retire I can take office.”

“I’ll do it,” Hatchet grunted, staring down the men around them. “And I’ll take those fucking cuts back from Amir.”

Pete glared at Hatchet, then nodded. “Who else? We need a few options to make things legit.” He didn’t look worried, which made Max wonder how legit the vote was going to be. Maybe King, whoever the hell he was, had already selected a new leader.

Two more members volunteered.

“You gettin’ this?” Pete asked Axle, who nodded. “Good. Then this meeting’s adjourned.”

“Wait. You can’t do that,” Axle warned. “There has to be a motion to adjourn.”

“Whatever. Write it up however you need to. And get those ballots ready. We’re gonna get this vote sewn up.”

The guys started to mill around. Several of them went up to the bar to pull the free draft beer that always followed a meeting.

“You and me need to step outside, Mad Dog,” Hatchet told Max. “We’re gonna have words.”

Max handed his sunglasses to the guy standing next to him, then stepped closer to Hatchet. “Let’s talk now.” He spread his arms, making himself an easy target.

Hatchet pulled his fist back and brought it forward in a punch aimed at Max’s diaphragm. Max blocked it at the same time he clipped Hatchet’s jaw with an uppercut. They exchanged punches for a few minutes, gaining and losing ground. The guys formed a circle around them, catching one or the other of them and pushing them back at each other. Max took a hit to his ribs and heard a crack.
 

Deciding to end the fight, he threw a right hook that landed Hatchet on his back, dazed. He stared down at him, then sent a glare at the men gathered, wondering if one of them was going to take up Hatchet’s fight. None did. He was walking away when he heard Hatchet grunt as he got to his feet, then heavy footsteps as the gangbanger ran after him. Max picked up a chair and twirled around in time to slam it down over Hatchet’s back, dropping him cold.

“Enough!” Pete shouted, breaking into the chants and jeers of the crowd. “We need Hatchet alive for the vote.”
 

Max dropped what was left of the chair. He took a beer that was being poured for one of the guys, grabbed his sunglasses back, and went to sit in the president’s booth so he could glare out at the rest of the members.

Kit walked up the sidewalk to Sheriff Tate’s house. Thick roots from a massive cottonwood had grown beneath the path, breaking and lifting the concrete in several places. The shade from the tree’s canopy thinned the grass so it only grew in clumpy areas, which the sheriff kept trimmed. He didn’t need to knock; Tate opened his door as he walked up the path.
 

Thirteen years had passed since Kit had had any one-on-one time with the lawman. In a weird way, it was kind of like looking at a future image of himself, living alone in a run-down house, trying futilely to fight chaos.

Kit had avoided the man as much as possible in his teenage years, but he hadn’t been a bad guy, even then. He was the one who’d negotiated on his behalf when Ivy’s dad had had a shit fit over his getting Ivy pregnant. Her dad wanted him thrown in jail for statutory rape. The sheriff got him to agree to a tour in the Army instead.
 

He’d brought Kit over for burgers when Kit’s mom was on a bender and forgot to feed him. He’d scrounged up school supplies for Kit at the start of each new school year. Kit worked at a local ranch during most summers and spent nights washing dishes at Mama Rosa’s, trying to save up as much money as he could so he could cover their rent when his mom didn’t, which was a lot of months. Very little was left over for food or clothes or fun.

Jesus, those were bad days.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked up at the sheriff. Tate stood on his front stoop, looking down at him. “Wondered when you’d get around to a visit.” Kit didn’t answer. “I’m cooking a burger out back. I can put one on for you.”

“That’d be great.”

Tate held the door open. Kit went up the steps and into the guy’s small living room. The couch was leather. The coffee table was some beat-up old thing that might have been in a hotel somewhere. A comfortable-looking recliner whose arms were well worn faced the TV. Tate’s place was neat, but old. He looked around, but couldn’t find any ashtrays. The guy used to be a chain-smoker.

“Want a beer?” Tate asked.

“Sure.”

The sheriff grabbed a Budweiser from the fridge, popped the cap, and gave it to Kit. He took out a bag of frozen hamburgers and headed to the backyard. Kit took a seat in one of the two white plastic chairs. He wanted to rock back on the hind legs, but the thing felt brittle as hell so he just sat still.
 

Tate’s backyard was a mirror image of his front yard. The only plantings looked like suckers that had slipped beneath the fence from his neighbors’ yards. The neatly trimmed grass was its best feature.

“Looks like the Army did right by you,” the sheriff said as he dropped a few patties on the grill.

“It did.”

“You out now? Got this new gig?”

“Yeah. Blade got shot and had to leave. I got out too. We hired on with Owen’s business.”

The sheriff squinted at him over the smoke from the grill. “What is it you guys do, for real?”

“We provide security services.”

Tate lowered the grill cover. “You know, I don’t like you tearing up my town.”

“I know. It’s not my goal.”

“How’s Ty doing? He make it okay in the service?”

“He did great. Really came into his own. He’s getting married.”

“Yeah? She from around here?”

“She went to school in Laramie. She’s a dog trainer.”

“She good people?”

“The best.”

“That boy could use a break.” He opened the grill and flipped the burgers. “Ivy’s back. You see her yet?”

Kit nodded. “She and Casey are staying up at Blade’s with us.”

“You getting back together?”

Kit grinned. “For an old man, you sure are curious.”

“I didn’t like how that all came down on you two. I didn’t know what happened to her after her folks pulled up stakes and moved. It was nice seeing her come back with your daughter. Your Ivy makes a mean meatloaf special up at the diner.”

Kit sipped his beer. Jesus, he wanted to rock back in his chair. “I never said this to anyone, but you’re why I do what I do. You ran a clean town when it would have been easier for you to play dirty.”

Tate pursed his lips as his brows lowered over his eyes. “Well, boy, you can write that on my grave.”

Kit grinned. “Don’t think I won’t.”
 

The sheriff went into the house. When he came out, he had a couple of plates, a bag of potato chips, rolls, and condiments for the burgers. He put cheese on the burgers, then handed two to Kit.

They settled at his old picnic table. Tate took a bite of his burger and followed it with a sip of beer. “How about you tell me why you really stopped by?”

“Trouble’s coming this way.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The WKB are voting in new leaders. The eastern branch is sending representatives for the vote. They’re also competing for the right to deal with an Afghan drug lord who’s got top-grade heroin to distribute. If they don’t figure out how to divvy the trade in a way both regions can tolerate, there’s gonna be bloodshed.”

“And you know this, how?”

Kit shook his head. “That’s need-to-know only. I’m worried about the town festival that’s coming up. I think, if something’s going to happen, it’ll happen then, when a rumble would have the biggest impact with lots of collateral damage.”

“Shit. There ain’t no way the town’ll cancel or postpone the event.”

“Owen’s talking to the FBI. The town may not have a say in what happens. I’d like to meet with the festival planners about contingency plans.”

“They’re meeting in a couple of days during the town board meeting. I’ll get you on the agenda.”

* * *

Things with Casey settled down once the camp issue was resolved. She’d be leaving in a few days. Kit hated the thought of a month without seeing his daughter.
 

Rocco and Blade had taken Mandy, Zavi, Eden, Ivy, and Fiona for a hike. Casey hadn’t wanted to go, said she didn’t feel well, but she didn’t have a fever or the vomits. He’d decided she needed to sweat whatever it was out. Probably just stress. The workout hadn’t hit the mark either; they’d quit their karate session early because she felt worse. He’d sent her in to shower half an hour ago.

Kit knocked on the door to the girls’ locker room once he’d changed back into his civvies. When there wasn’t an answer, he went back to the house and checked in her room, but she wasn’t in there. He stopped by the kitchen to see if Kathy had seen her. No luck.

“Hey, Greer. You seen my daughter? She didn’t head out after her mom, did she?” Kit asked via their comm unit.

“Let me check,”
Greer answered.
“She’s in the girls’ locker room.”

“Thanks,” Kit answered, hurrying back to the gym building. Had she hurt herself? Had she passed out? Maybe she had appendicitis. Shit, why had he pushed her so hard?

The male and female locker rooms stood between the weights room and the poolroom in the gym building; they were accessible from either side. He went into the poolroom and knocked on the door to the girls’ room. Again, no answer. He knocked one more time, beginning to worry that something wasn’t right.
 

He cracked the door and leaned in to ask, “Casey? You in there?”

“Go away, Dad.”

“What’s goin’ on, honey?”

“Just go away. Where’s Mom?”

“Mom’s still out on the hike, remember?”

“I need Mom, Dad.”

“I’m coming in, Case. You decent?” He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Don’t come in here!”

He made a quick look around the corner, trying to evaluate the situation. Casey was in one of the bathroom stalls. He hovered by the entrance alcove. It was easier to talk to her if he didn’t have to shout through the main locker room door, but he still wanted to give her privacy.
 

“So what’s going on, baby? You sick?”

“No. Maybe. Please, go away.”

“I will, but I don’t want to leave you out here by yourself. Did you hurt yourself? Do you need help?”

Casey didn’t answer him. After a few seconds, he heard what sounded like silent crying coming from her stall. He stepped around the corner and noticed a trail of red from the shower to the bathroom stall where Casey was huddled.

“Aw, shit. Did you cut yourself? What happened?”

“I’m bleeding.”

“I see that. Honey, can I take a look? You may need stitches. That’s a lot of blood.”

“I need Mom.”

“She’s not here. I am. What’s going on?”

“Dad, I’m
bleeding
.”

“Yeah, babe. I see that.”

“
Bleeding
bleeding.”

And it hit him what was going on. “Oh. Oh, hell.” He drew a deep breath. Christ, he wanted to run out of the room, but there was no one else to help her. “Okay. Okay, this is okay. This is normal. All girls do this.”