Page 67 of The Devil's Scars

He flung the door open, and Wolf glared at him. “Cummin’, huh?”

“Not like that,” Scars said, though he truthfully had a hard-on that was damn near killing him. “I was actually sleeping.”

“Sleepin’?” Wolf looked around the room. “Alone?”

“Yeah. Alone. So what’s up? Why are you breaking the goddamn door down?”

“Because Kansas and Cole found somethin’ on the tattoo parlor video.”

Scars stared at Wolf, his mind clicking coldly, precisely into place. The finger in the box, left just outside the door, too damn close to Zoe’s office for his comfort. Someone sinister and menacing, lurking too damn close to Zoe for his comfort.

“What’d they find?” Scars demanded. “Did they see someone?”

“Yeah. A man hangin’ around the door from the parlor storage room to the parkin’ lot about two weeks ago.”

“OK. Anything else?”

“Nope. He covered his face and wore a hat, and no car in sight on the video.”

“Does then video show him dropping off the box with the finger?”

“No. It shows someone pushin’ the box over to the door, usin’ what looks like a long stick. Can’t see who’s actually holdin’ the stick, though.”

“So this is all helpful – how, exactly?”

Wolf’s gray eyes flashed. “Watch your tone, Innis. I don’t stand for no snappin’ and disrespect.”

“Fuck, Wolf.” Scars sighed, mentally acknowledging that at least part of his anger was because of Zoe dashing out after such an intense and intimate experience –right there on that goddamn desk, where he now had to work every day. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, OK? I guess I just hoped for more, you know? I’m frustrated and worried. I don’t like any of this.”

“I’m with you, man. But what can we do, except keep an eye out for him comin’ back?”

“Was he touching the door?”

“Nope. Just hangin’ around it. Looked like he was waitin’ for someone to come out.”

“Zoe?”

“Dunno. I think probably not. I mean, if it’s Dawson or one of his merry idiots, then what would they want with her?”

“What would they want with any of us at this point?” Scars rejoined. “And I thought we’d decided that it wasn’t Dawson and his idiot crew?”

“Fuck, man. I’m not sure anymore. I just don’t know what to think.” Wolf ran his hands through his hair. “Nothin’ about any of this makes any fuckin’ sense. I’m wonderin’ if maybe we should ask Dawson for another meetin’.”

“Just ask him straight out if it was him or his boys?”

“Yeah. I mean, if it’s him, maybe he’s usin’ this s a way to get us back to the table for another crack at workin’ with us. And if it ain’t him, maybe this would be his first hearin’ about his own boys workin’ without his knowledge, and he’d take care of it for us. And if it ain’t him or his crew, we can stop focusin’ on them completely, and start considerin’ other motives and possibilities.”

“Hmmmm.” Scars thought about that. “Actually, that’s not a terrible idea, Prez.”

Wolf barked out a laugh. “Yeah, well. I do get a bright idea from time to time.”

“So… want me to ask Ice to set it up?”

“Yeah, man. Go ahead.”

“When do you want to meet him, if he agrees?” Scars paused. “We do have that thing on Tuesday…”

“I remember. So have Ice set it up as soon as possible after that Scars.” Wolf sighed, shook his head. “Hell, if I had my way? I’d set it up for fuckin’ yesterday.”

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