Page 31 of Disturbed Lucidity

When I moved the club from North Carolina to Northern California, Indigo found the small town of Destiny. A relatively normal town about thirty minutes north of San Francisco and only a fifteen-minute ride to Purgatory, where my son, Solomon, and his family lived, along with the Golden Skulls. Thirty minutes north of Purgatory was the Wraith Warriors. After the shit that went down with Solomon and the Golden Skulls several months ago, everyone learned that the President of the Wraith Warriors, Wraith, was the biological uncle of my granddaughter, Soleil.

Now, two clubs surrounded the Golden Skulls and anyone one of us would kill to protect that little girl and her family. While none of the clubs had anything to do with each other, the fact was we were all connected by one little girl.

Pulling up to the post office in Destiny, I cut my engine before swinging my leg off my bike. It was still early in the morning and the post office wasn’t open yet, but the lobby was. Walking inside, I headed for my P.O. Box to gather the club’s mail, when someone walked in behind me. Looking to my left, I quickly glanced at a young woman with long wavy blonde hair facing the opposite wall and inserting a key into the small box before removing a stack of mail.

I thought nothing of it. It was nothing new for residents to have two mailing addresses. Generally, those with a small business out of their homes had P.O. boxes. It was good business too if anyone asked me. Some of those small businesses were owned and operated by single women with children.

Ignoring the young woman, I gathered my mail, then locked my box before leaving. Tucking the mail away in my saddlebag, the woman exited the post office, rushed across the street to the small apartment building, and quickly entered. While the woman looked familiar, she didn’t interest me. Getting ready to climb on my bike, I saw something familiar move in the shadows. Narrowing my eyes, I walked toward the lurking man.

“What the hell are you doing, Indigo?”

“Watching.”

“Who?”

“Her.” My brother nodded, looking at the building the woman had just entered.

“Why?”

“Watch.”

Turning to the building, I stared into the darkness waiting for something, anything, to give me a clue as to why Indigo was hunting. When I saw nothing, I groaned. “Want to let me in on the secret?”

Just as the last word left my lips, I saw a light turn on, on the second floor.

“That building has eight apartments. Two on each floor. Four in the front, four in the back.”

“Okay?” I questioned.

“According to club paperwork, Anne lives on the second floor.”

“And?”

“The woman who just went into the building is London Stewert. Born in Des Moines, Iowa. According to town gossip, Ms. Stewert got out of a bad relationship two years ago and moved here to get away from her abuser. Fucker was beating her.”

“Get to the point, Indigo.”

“My point is, Ms. Stewert isn’t on the lease, and the apartment she is in belongs to our part-time waitress. Only she doesn’t live there and neither does Ms. Stewert.”

“How do you know that?”

“Been inside the place. It’s a decoy, and before you read me the riot act, I knew something was off with her since the night those frat boys put their hands on her. You know me. I don’t give a fuck about anything but the club, but when everything settled, Anne bolted. Hasn’t been back since. Woman is hiding something.”

“You think everyone is hiding something.”

“Your point?”

Before I could respond, the young woman exited the building, hurriedly walking over to a car before jumping in and pulling away. The second the car was out of sight, Indigo moved.

Following, I said nothing when I ran across the street and into the apartment building, taking the stairs two at a time. Standing before a door, my brother made quick work of the lock and walked in, not bothering with the lights.

He was right.

The apartment was a decoy.

The place was staged perfectly, from the furniture to the pictures on the wall in the apartment, to make it look as if someone lived there. Every surface was pristine. Not a speck of dust anywhere. The couch looked brand new. Even the cushions were still firm, like they were just taken out of the plastic.

“Check the drawers,” Indigo ordered as he walked into the bedroom. Opening and closing drawers, I found all the normal items one would have, from silverware to a phone book.

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