Page 50 of The Senator

Once we were inside the clubhouse, I saw a few familiar faces and a lot of new ones. I was given a warm greeting and a cold beer before Denny took my arm and led me into the chapel—the room where all senior members of the club held their meetings. I’d cleaned the room before and after the patched-in officers held church, but I’d never been inside as a guest.

Denny chuckled. “Make yourself comfortable. I need to run upstairs and grab my phone charger, but I’ll be right back. The others will be in shortly. If you want another beer, just signal one of the prospects.”

I slowly walked around the room, seeing the large wooden carving behind the President’s chair at the table. It was what the artist perceived as hell with beings drowning in a lake of fire. There were figures standing around the devil, pushing figures into the lake, which signified The Devil’s Volunteers would happily cast their enemies into the lake of fire, which reminded me of the club patch I never earned.

The founder of The Devil’s Volunteers, Keith Murray—Mayhem to his brothers—had died from cancer the year before Clint and I showed up on their doorstep, and as I looked at the carving, I was reminded he’d been a carpenter. He’d been the one to buy the property in the early eighties, establishing the club and building the clubhouse by himself. The members held him in very high esteem, keeping the rules Mayhem had established in the club’s charter as sacred commandments.

The punishment for breaking the rules was severe, as I’d witnessed once when a patched member was spying for a rival club. Clint and I were allowed to attend part of the ceremony—when they took the traitor’s cut and destroyed his patch before we were told to leave. They also removed his club tattoo from between his shoulder blades, but thankfully, I never learned how they did it.

The door to the chapel flew open, and Hand, Saint, Preacher, Heretic, and Pacman walked into the room with Denny behind. I stood to the side as they sat around the table, Denny finally motioning for me to join them.

I took a seat next to Pacman and waited for someone to tell me what the fuck was going on. Finally, Denny pointed to the tall, slender young computer genius, who moved his laptop in my direction. “So, uh, this has been a tangled web I’m proud to say I finally unwound. This is the flow of money.” The young guy showed me an elaborate flowchart highlighting how many bank accounts money flowed through until it ended up at its destination—Mitchell Flora’s account, confirming he was Spencer’s mole.

“Wow, that’s impressive. Uh, thanks for confirming that Mitch was the Senator’s mole. I’ll make sure…” Pacman hit the tab and another flowchart popped up, just as elaborate as the previous diagram.

I could see all the work that had gone into the investigation, so I turned to Pacman and nodded in approval. The guy, who was probably about twenty-two and a fully patched member, rolled his eyes at me before Denny laughed. “Little Brother, look over here.” He pointed to a square where there were words in red:

Ronald and Hillary Brady

I glanced at Denny for clarity. “That’s the Honorable Ronald Brady and Mrs. Hillary Brady. They’re the Senator’s parents.”

I could have been knocked over with a feather.

CHAPTER 22

SPENCER

I was in a fucking awful mood on Christmas Eve morning. I’d spoken to Nash when he arrived in Sparta, and then the next morning, but he wasn’t very talkative, and I could hear lots of noise in the background. I didn’t know what he was doing or how to shake off the jealousy that he’d rather spend the holiday with his biker friends than me, but Vani told me I was acting like a two-year-old, so I tried to give him his space.

We texted a few times, and his words were upbeat. He told me he missed me and loved me, and really, what more could I want from the man? We weren’t joined at the hip!

“Dad, Cole and I have some last-minute shopping to do. Do you think the roads are okay? I didn’t know Mom wanted us to go see Grandma Velma on the day after Christmas, so I need to get her a gift.”

We’d shoveled about an inch of snow that had fallen earlier that morning. It was still snowing, but the accumulation was supposed to be minimal, so it was more for something to do than necessity.

I pulled off my knit cap after hanging up the snow shovel. “Yeah, I think you guys will be fine. You okay to drive on it?” Jay was a good driver, but he was in a rental, since we hadn’t replaced his totaled Escape, and he was driving a full-size pickup, which could be light in the back end with an empty truck bed.

“Yeah. Better here than in Blacksburg,” he responded. His cast had been gone for a couple of weeks since his injury was more minor than Cole’s but having had his first car accident had seemed to make him skittish.

“You guys want me to come with you?” Vani had gone to pick up the ham Nash had ordered at the store in Tyson’s Corner, claiming she had a few last-minute things to pick up as well. How I ended up being the only one who was ready for the holiday was a fucking miracle.

“Not unless you need something. I was gonna take Cole to lunch after we finished shopping. We’re going to the outlet mall in Leesburg, and then I thought we’d go into town and eat at Lightfoot.”

Lightfoot was a great restaurant in downtown Leesburg. It inhabited an old bank building, and the wine cave was in the old vault. The ornate marble pillars and trim had been restored when the restaurant owner bought the building from a now defunct banking organization after it had been empty for about five years. Vani and I loved to go there on Saturdays when we had time for their grilled cheese special and smoked tomato soup.

“That sounds nice, Jay. You guys go and have a great day out. I think Mom wants you guys to go with her to the bell concert at Emmanuel Lutheran in Vienna at five, so text her to confirm if she still wants to go.”

It was a family tradition for us, but in light of all the shit that went down, I was afraid the roof would fall in on my head if I entered the building. I’d told Vanessa to take Jay and Cole with her. I’d be fine at home.

The boys went inside to clean up, and I went to the kitchen to make myself a drink, hoping the day would go by faster if I was blurry eyed. I reached for some of the large ice cubes I preferred, pouring a healthy two fingers into my rocks glass.

I was about to head to the family room when my phone rang. It was Nash, which immediately lifted my mood. “Nash? How are you?”

“I’m fine, babe. Look, I hate to do this over the phone, but the snow is coming down too heavy for me to drive back tonight. Can you get to your computer and get on Skype?” Hell, if Skype was all I could get from him on Christmas Eve, I’d take it.

“Sure. Uh, give me about ten minutes. I’ve tracked snow inside, and Vani will skin me alive. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Okay, love you,” Nash offered before the line went dead.

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