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“Calder left a flash drive in the Mustang.”

Silence.

“Smoke found it. Kept it in his safe. Now it's gone.”

“Anyone know he had it?”

“Not that he knows.”

“Mercer?”

“Unknown.”

Bishop swears. “Get Smoke out of there.”

“I know.”

“I'll send⁠—”

A motorcycle engine roars outside.

Every head turns.

I move toward the window, staying out of sight.

The bike passes.

Still, the back of my neck prickles.

“Roman?” Bishop says.

“Call you back.”

I hang up.

“We're leaving.”

Smoke's eyebrows rise. “I'm not leaving my shop.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Fuck you.”

Callie groans. “Here we go.”

“Someone may already know you had that drive.”

“I have employees.”

“Send them home.”

“I have customers.”

“Reschedule them.”

“This is my fucking business.”

“And Mercer doesn't give a shit.”