Chewy grinned.“No kidding.”
Nugget puffed out his chest.“They picked the wrong motorcycle club.”
Gramps smacked the back of his head.“They’re still shooting at us.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“No,” Gramps admitted.
“It doesn’t.”
Twister raised one finger.“What about The Badger’s Den?”
I looked toward Tempi.“I think it was leverage.”
She frowned.“What does that mean?”
“They don’t need your bar.”
Confusion spread across several faces.
I pointed to the map again.“They need this block.”My finger traced the clubhouse on the map.“The clubhouse.”I moved my finger down the block.“The Badger’s Den.Marv’s Antiques.”
“Marv’s closed a year ago when he died, and from what I hear, the place is caught up in probate,” Tempi pointed out.
“Yeah, but I’m sure probate won’t stop The Ledger.Right now, they are focused on the clubhouse because without it, they have nothing.They’re all connected.”
“Connected how?”Swift asked from the door.
“I don’t know,” I sighed.That answer tasted bitter.“I wish I did.”
I reached into the envelope one last time.The oldest document I’d copied slid onto the table.A faded blueprint.
Everyone leaned closer.
“What is that?”Sully asked.
“The original plans.”
“For what?”Hodge asked.
“This building.”I unfolded the rest of it.
A maze of faded lines appeared beneath the clubhouse, then continued past the alley and toward The Badger’s Den and Marv’s.
Tempi’s hand slipped from Twister’s shoulder.“No...”
I nodded slowly.“There’s a tunnel.”
Nobody spoke.
“I don’t know where it goes.The original blueprints call it an access corridor.”
Another long silence.
“I don’t know what’s at the other end,” I confessed.
Wheels finally looked away from me and down at the blueprint.“But you’re sure it’s real.”
