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"Did you guys locate the car yet?" I asked.
They needed a twenty-eighteen black civic. Then they needed to crush in the back quarter-panel on the passenger side. Put some absurd neon under the chassis. Hang dice and a rosary from the rearview mirror. Tint the windows.
"Yeah, I found one yesterday. We're working on it today."
"Good. Then we can narrow down a window."
See, the twenty-eighteen black Civic with the dice and the rosary and the lights and the dent? Well, an identical one belonged to the leader of a local gang. A particularly vicious guy who was known for drive-bys and the kinds of torture you usually don't see outside of war. "Che will drive," I added. That went without saying since he was the one with the street racing history. "Huck will be doing the shooting. Then you ditch the gun, ditch the car. And hope for the best."
The best being that Adrian, the remaining Russian, would go after the street gang.
Once they were out of the picture, the Ukrainians would see Adrian as easy pickings. Which meant we just had to deal with a couple more guys after the drive-by.
"While the rest of us sit on our hands," McCoy grumbled. I didn't know if he just liked action, or if his pride was hurt that he wasn't one of the most talented for this particular assignment.
"And you and Remy will be here to break down this car as quickly as possible," Huck said, clearly reading his good friend easily. "Like within a few short hours. We need nothing left of it by the next morning."
"I can do that," McCoy agreed, pleased to have some assignment, even if it wasn't one of the most glamorous jobs. "The sooner we get it gone, the better. How are we going to make sure it gets around that it was that particular car when the plan is to try to catch Melor alone?"
"Cameras. And Teddy said Melor hangs out at Echo a couple nights a week," Huck explained. "He smokes, so he will step out on occasion. Just gotta try to find him when he's not near anyone. Could take a couple weeks. But I am not risking hitting someone innocent."
Which Reign would want too. It didn't exactly bode well for a new chapter if their first order of business was taking out a couple idiot club kids because they were too power-hungry to bide their time. They'd be on the local cops' shit-list real fast.
"Yo, Huck," Che called, walking into the office, dangling keys that weren't his—judging by the cat eye-gouger attached to it in an obnoxious hot pink color—around his finger.
"Shit, seriously?" Huck asked, shaking his head. "What is wrong with it this time?" he asked as Che leaned back against the wall.
"Think it's the starter. The battery was fine, but it won't turn over she said."
"I don't fucking get why she won't let me get her something new," Huck grumbled, getting to his feet. And I was pretty sure the owner of the cat keychain and the wonky car was Auggie.
"Pride is a family trait," McCoy reminded him. "I have a little time between clients. Want me to take a look at it?"
"You haven't had lunch yet. I'll handle it. Might have to call Teddy to give her a lift home later, though. I don't know if I will get it done by the time her shift ends."
"Teddy has a board meeting today."
I shouldn't have done it.
I knew it was a terrible idea.
She could have called an Uber.
Lyft.
A goddamn cab.
Still, the words left my mouth.
"I can drive her home," I offered. "I have nothing planned for tonight," I added, shrugging.
"That'd be great," Huck said, quickly enough that I felt confident in thinking he didn't suspect anything was going on between his sister and me. "She gets out at five. Works over at the Pleasant Grove nursing home."
"Got it," I agreed, nodding.
I left half an hour early because I found myself actually a little excited at the idea of seeing her at work, getting a glimpse of a side of her that most people in her circle didn't get to see. Someone serious. Professional.
Really, I should have known better.
When I tracked her down ten minutes later, she was sitting on the bed with a frail-looking older woman, showing her X-rated videos of jacked male models.
"Boy, I wish you were here for me," the lady said, finally spotting me through her inch-thick glasses, her blue eyes looking giant through them.
"Talking to the ghosts again, Mae?" Auggie asked before lifting her head to find me leaning in the doorway.
"Ladies," I greeted them, smiling at the shocked look on Auggies' face. It wasn't easy to catch her off-guard. But there was no mistaking that I had managed the feat.
She looked like herself but a little more subdued in her light blue scrubs that were a little wrinkled from the day, plain white non-slip sneakers on her feet, her unruly hair pulled back and away from her face, something that made you appreciate her bone structure all the more.
