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"So he does know him."

"Since they were fifteen apparently, though there was a huge gap when Adler was off doing his contract killing thing where they weren't in touch."

"That's not really giving us too much then."

"Not what we wanted, no," he agreed, and I swear I could hear him scratching a hand down his face like he did when he was a mix of confused and frustrated. "But Ward did say he would trust the man with his life, and the life of his woman. I know Ward; Laz and Pagan know Ward. That is saying something that he would make that claim."

"Yeah," I agreed. I couldn't claim to know Ward, but I had seen the man; I knew how he handled business and his fighters. I knew his reputation as a fighter. He was someone who took pride in his reputation, who would never let a recommendation come back to bite him in the ass.

"He did warn us that there is some shit that went down, with the two of them, that he was pretty sure we wouldn't be able to get out of Adler. But he assured me that it wouldn't affect the club, that what it involved was taken care of back when they were eighteen."

"Yeah, but what about the decades after that?" I asked.

"Exactly," Reign agreed. "I'll get it. I always do."

That was true.

If he got Roan's past out of him, as secret as that shit was supposed to be, he could figure out Adler's deal.

"How's your woman holding up?"

I looked back into the room, taking a breath. "Not good. She's got to do arrangements tomorrow. And she's not up for it."

There was a pause at that, a slightly muffled sound that likely meant he was covering the speaker so he could talk to someone else. "Do you think maybe I should send Summer over? She's been there recently. She could, if nothing else, make some of the decisions for Lenny. They fucking need to know everything from goddamn program paper to chair coverings."

I didn't know how Lenny would react to having a third party brought in, but quite frankly, I didn't know dick about program paper or flowers or music. And I wasn't sure Lenny would be up to it all herself.

"If she's up to it," I said carefully, knowing she was on her way back to her old self, but worrying maybe that adding another set of funeral arrangements to it would make things worse again.

There was a shuffling, then Summer's sweet voice filled my ear.

"Don't worry about me, Edison," she said, sounding soft. "Worry about Lenny. I had Reign to worry about me, and the girls club to worry about arrangements. And, honestly, I couldn't have done it without them. That's what we're here for. I can pick out all the stuff she doesn't care about, make it nice. She doesn't need to worry about music selections right now."

"Thank you, Summer," I said, meaning it. "I just want to warn you that Lenny is..."

"I heard she is a bit, ah, prickly," she said carefully. "And that is probably going to be exacerbated by the grief, but that's fine. I'm a big girl; I can take it. Just text Reign a time. I don't have anything pressing going on tomorrow."

"You're a good woman, Summer. The best."

"Take care of her, Edison," she said, handing the phone back to Reign.

"I'll text you if we find anything out."

He didn't say goodbye.

He never did.

Lenny seeming out for the night, I ventured out into her hall, finding a frazzled mom of what looked to be a three-year-old, and offering her a hundred bucks to run to the store to grab some groceries for Lenny's bare cabinets and empty fridge. I had a feeling she would want to be here for a while, around her stuff, around Letha's stuff, away from anyone who might judge her grief.

The mom jumped on it, of course. A hundred bucks was a small fortune for such an easy task.

That handled, I found out the number to Meryl's, calling and explaining that Lenny had a death in the family, and would be out for a while. And I may have thrown in that I expected her job to be there for her when she was ready to come back, whenever that might be. That phrasing coming from someone with a Henchmen logo on their back was almost a threat, and he took it as such.

"No, no. Of course! She will always have her place here!"

Then, to wrap things up, I put away the groceries, handing the mom an extra fifty because judging by the red on the baby's face and the strain on hers, the poor thing had missed naptime or bedtime.

I wasn't sure what kind of schedule the kid had, but it was sunny out by the time I opened the door to them.

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