Page 33 of Decoding Morse

The security cameras had been triggered twice this morning by delivery men who hadn’t left any boxes behind. Instead, they’d circled the house, peering into the windows. I’d run their license plates and used facial recognition software only to come up with dead ends and aliases. I was no closer to figuring out who wanted her dead than I had been when I’d knocked on her door.

And now I had a new prospect to worry about. Exhausted and still pissed at being edged out of my job by Tap, of all people, I raked a hand through my hair. It was Sunday morning. Families were here. Amelia and Morgan were depending on us to keep them safe. What if Prospect was dangerous? Knowing nothing about this asshole had my tiny hairs rising and my insides knotting up.

“I’ll look into Prospect’s background and?—”

Link’s fist slammed against the table, making me jump. “Goddammit, Morse, trust your fuckin’ brother to do his job. We’ve got the club under control. Your focus is needed elsewhere right now.”

Startled by his outburst, I leaned back in my seat.

He scrubbed a hand over his beard and huffed out a breath. “Look, I know this isn’t easy for you, but you’ve been holed up in the security department for a long-ass time.”

“Yeah? Well, it is my job.”

“Exactly. Yourjob. Not your fuckin’ life. You spend way too much time watching other people live from the comfort of your chair.”

What the fuck? “We agreed?—”

“Yeah, we did, but everything changes. Don’t you want a home? A family?”

Did I? I hadn’t given it much thought since I could only see that happening with one woman, and she’d always been off-limits. I’d tried to date. I’d hooked up with club girls and shared nights with women I picked up at the Copper Penny, but nobody had ever inspired any long-term plans.

Link’s expression softened. “I’ve seen the way you look at Amelia, and?—”

“She’s not for the likes of me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but only frowned and nodded. “Understood.”

I hadn’t expected him to drop it that easily and didn’t know what to say next.

“Still waitin’ for you to tell me why you practically knocked my door down to get in here.”

Right. There had been a point to my visit. “Amelia asked me to do a rations run for her non-profit tomorrow.”

Link’s eyebrows shot up. “She wants you to take a meal to a widow?”

“Yep.”

He stood and headed for the door, opening it to wave Specks and Prospect back in. I watched, gritting my teeth. We hadn’t yet finished our discussion, and I didn’t want some asshole I didn’t know breathing the same air, much less weighing in on my task. Regardless, in marched Specks with Prospect hot on his heels. The kid slid in to stand behind me.

At my fucking back.

I angled myself in my seat to keep an eye on him while watching the prez circle his desk and take a seat.

“When will you make this meal delivery to the military widow?” Link asked, summing up my announcement and sharing it with the class.

I knew right where he was going, and fuck that.

“It’ll be a quick delivery,” I replied. “I don’t need help.”

“I disagree.” Link leaned forward and steepled his hands on the table. “This rations run... is it part of Amelia’s regular schedule?”

Amelia made weekly visits to her widows, so I nodded. “I believe so.”

“Then we follow precautions.”

Did he think I didn’t know that? That I was incompetent or careless? “I don’t plan on riding my bike or wearing my cut. I’ll take a cab or a rideshare.”

“Or we can take my car,” Specks said. “What time tomorrow?”

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