Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(55)

Even now, when she spent her days raising her kids, running the town library, doing town council stuff, she was still a warrior. Maybe more than ever, since she didn’t wear it on her sleeve the way she once had.

Tommy whistled. “Ah, man…that spin thing she did? That was sweet.” He grinned at Isaac.

Who scowled back. “Enough talkin’ about my old lady. Let’s get back on track. Seaver’s into our turf now. He’s been in office almost a year and a half, and he’s been biding his time. Kept outside of town—not even a drive-through in all that time. He must think he’s close on something. Look sharp, brothers. I’d say the heat is on.”

Len put his elbows on the table. “And we got no idea what he’s cookin’.”

“No.” Isaac shook his head. “But we know where we’re vulnerable. The weed. And the clinic.”

“I swear to f*cking God, if Tasha gets pulled into our bullshit with Seaver, I will rip that motherf*cker’s throat out. We’ve done her enough hurt.” Len sat back so hard that his chair rocked up onto two legs. “She has the black market shit for us.”

“Protecting her is our first priority, Len. You and I are meeting with Bruce this afternoon”—Bruce was their contact for medical supplies in Springfield—“We’re hitting pause on supply orders until we get a better read on what the Sheriff has going.” Isaac turned to Dom. “Anything new, brother?”

“Not yet. Same old stuff, just more of it. But I was talking to Bart, and he made me think of something.”

Dom hesitated, and even though no one moved, Badger had the sense that they’d all mentally leaned in.

When Dom didn’t start up again, Isaac slammed his fist on the table, and Dom jumped. “Come on, Dom.

What?”

“I…don’t know if it’s anything. But Bart and me…we talk in code, and we bounce the IP addresses, covering our tracks as much as we can. What if Seaver is talking in code to his buddy in Texas? The one he exchanges all the f*cked-up jokes with? I mean, how many rape jokes and whatever before that shit gets old? And sometimes they barely make sense and aren’t funny even if you’re a deviant bastard.”

“And?”

“I don’t know yet, boss. I’m looking for patterns now, but this isn’t my thing.”

“It’s Lilli’s, though.” Lilli had been doing some kind of super-classified government work when she’d come to Signal Bend, and she spoke, like, a million languages. Isaac scanned the table. “Problems with bringing her in on this?”

“Chick ain’t got no business in our business. Don’t care who she is.” Zeke. Who’d never spoken at the table except to answer a question or voice a vote. Which Badger supposed he was doing now. “Sorry, boss.

But that’s true.”

Isaac stared at Zeke for a long time. Usually, when he was pissed, Isaac’s brows drew in, and the effect was awe-inspiring, even in this group of rough men. But now, he stared without any expression at all, and Badger felt even more anxious—it was as if Isaac had transcended to an entirely new level of rage, one beyond human expression.

Zeke had not been a member of the Horde when C.J. had been. He could not know the animosity that had simmered between Isaac and Ceej over Lilli’s involvement in their fight with Ellis. He knew that Isaac had been paralyzed, but the Horde did not talk about that history. They did not talk about traitors, so they did not talk about C.J.’s treachery and murderous intent. Zeke could not know the dangerous territory on which he was stomping now. Tommy didn’t know, either. But Show, Len, Badger, and Dom—they’d all been there. As Prospects or full members, they had been there since Ellis. They knew what Lilli had risked and lost. They knew how she’d helped them. They knew what it had cost Isaac and Lilli both. And they knew how sore Isaac was on the subject.

He said one word. “Vote.”

Show picked up for him without missing a beat. “Aye brings Lilli in to help Dom with this code thing.

Aye.”

Len: “Aye.”

Badger didn’t hesitate. As far as he was concerned, what Lilli did or did not carry between her legs didn’t matter half as much as what she carried between her ears and inside her chest. They needed her.

“Aye.”

Dom: “Aye.”

Zeke didn’t hesitate, either. “Nay.”

Tommy’s head swiveled between Zeke and Isaac. Zeke had been his VP at their previous club, a recreational club in Illinois. But Isaac was his President now, and the Horde were anything but recreational.

According to the club bylaws, if Zeke got one more vote on a matter first raised at the table, he could force it to be tabled for a week. It wouldn’t matter that a majority vote was already in place. Badger didn’t think the vote would change in a week, but they’d lose a week of work, and Isaac would likely need to be restrained before he ripped Zeke’s prodigious beard right off his face and strangled him with it. Even with one arm tied to his chest.

Isaac stared steadily at Tommy, waiting. All Horde eyes were on him. Tommy was a good member. He was strong and brave, and he did what was asked of him. He wasn’t what could be called bright, but that worked for him more times than not. Havoc hadn’t been much of a thinker, either. He’d been sharp in a lot of ways, but he’d almost always have chosen action over thought. He’d told Badger once, over shots at Tuck’s, that thinking was for later, when you needed an alibi.