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What would the Hellrazors gain by taking Sydney? After last night, they’re already down bad. They’ve lost almost a third of their club either to death or a stint in jail.
What have they really gained from any of our feuding?
What havewegained?
Nothing. This war between the Steel Kings and Hellrazors has done nothing but deplete us both in different ways. They sabotaged our business at the saloon. We sabotaged their drug muling. They think we killed one of theirs. We think they’ve got Sydney.
Nobody’s benefiting and nobody’s coming out on top.
Except…
I step toward the bar counter and grip a fistful of Dirty Harry’s dirty, unwashed hair. Yanking his head up and pressing the peeler to his knobby throat, I growl, “You said Velma was here the other day. What did you mean?”
“What do you think I meant? We all saw her wandering about. She was checking out the Traveler’s Lodge. She was on the phone.”
What would Velma be doing in Wheaton checking out the same motel Sydney was at?
And then it comes to me—the strange behavior this morning, the smaller moments where she’s told me things or pushed me into doing something for one reason or another.
Visiting Tom at the Lenton Penitentiary. Searching for the rumored informant. Sending me to the house to grab paper for the bonfire.
She stuck Sydney under our roof. She gave her a job and took a liking to her… ’til this morning where she was suddenly unconcerned.
I’d always found it interesting that she took such a liking to her. Even considering how both women were spitfires, it was a lot. It was weird as hell.
“Velma’s from Portales,” I say out loud with narrowing eyes. “She grew up there.”
By now, Cash and Moses have returned from the back. They don’t question what’s going on, but hover in the background, listening in.
Ozzie speaks up first. “That was how long ago? She’s Tom’s old lady.”
“And Tom got sent to prison after being targeted by the FBI,” I say slowly. Then a ball of tension explodes inside me, making my pulse race. “Think about it. It all fucking makes sense when you put Velma into the situation.”
“What makes sense, Mace?” Cash asks. “You can’t be implying—”
“The Road Reapers,” I answer. “Velma came to us beat up. She said it was off a bad marriage. What if that was a crock of shit, and she’s really working for the Reapers?”
“The Reapers ain’t shit these days. You saw how rundown Portales was. They lost their prez and never recovered… unlike us,” Ozzie says.
“Which means they have the most to gain if us and the Hellrazors go to war.”
The other guys all remain silent. Even Dirty Harry’s staring in interest from where he’s slammed against the bar counter.
Everybody’s doing what I’ve done—they’re putting together pieces of the fucked up puzzle we’ve found ourselves in.
I decide to settle it once and for all. I grab my phone and dial her up.
It rings a couple times before she answers, sounding distracted.
“Now’s not a good time, Mace.”
“Now’s a good time ’cuz I say it’s a good time,” I say, leaving her no room to argue or protest. “Where are you right now?”
She takes a second to answer, as if thinking. “Why do you want to know? Am I supposed to report to my old man’s son?”
“Where are you right now? It’s a simple question, Velma.”
“I’m… I’m out running an errand around town.”
