Page 136 of Ink's Devil

“No,” Beef says. “Look. We need to backtrack a little. Connor got himself arrested while working on Phil’s protection racket. He was offered a chance to stay out of jail, he took it. He’s been working with the feds. Connor had the opportunity to spirit the heroin away and took it. Only problem was, his contact was taking three weeks off. Hence he had to store them somewhere until he returned.”

“He had no other contact?”

“No. Or none that he trusted.”

Something starts to make sense. “So that’s why he was beaten. Because he’d stolen from Phil and Alder.”

“Yes. As you know, when Connor called you Beth, he was telling the truth. He was being hurt and feared for his life.”

“You also know,” Beef again takes over from Demon, “we managed to track down where that call had come from and that we’d gone to see if we could find him. At the time, Ink was sitting in jail, and we were desperate to find anything that could help get him out. Well we did. We found Connor.”

I notice Beef’s voice has deepened, and his delivery slowed, as if what he’s saying carries merit. I close my eyes, not wanting to hear any more details about how they found Connor dead, Mace had told me enough of the suffering my baby brother had gone through. Mom reaches out and clasps my hand, and I don’t know whether it’s for my benefit or hers.

“We found Connor. Well, at first we didn’t know it was a man, it was a bloody heap of rags, skin and bone.”

Mom gasps and covers her face with her hand.

Beef relentlessly continues, “Until it groaned.”

“He was alive?” Mom asks, her voice breaking.

“We brought him back. Arranged for a doctor who’s friendly to the club to treat him. He produced a death certificate in his name.”

Treated him?“You don’t treat a corpse and give them a death certificate.” I thought I’d just thought that, not voiced it aloud.

“Connor Foster is dead. Dan Forster is alive and getting well.”

“My son?” Mom’s voice is hesitant and filled with cautious hope. “Are you telling me my son is alive? Don’t give a damn what he’s calling himself now. But he’salive?”

“He is.” Demon leans forward. I always wondered how he got his name. I stop wondering now as gold flecks glow in his eyes making him resemble his namesake. “But he’ll only stay that way if you don’t let that information leak out of this clubhouse. No one, apart from my members who I trust, know Connor’s real identity. No one else must know his real name.”

“Got to be clear here, Beth.” One of Ink’s hands lands on my shoulder, and his other on my mom’s. “Patsy. We’re hoping to make the deal with Agent Caruso, his handler. Alder’s still around though Phil has gone. Connor—Dan—will leave Colorado and start a new life under his new name.”

“Witness Protection?” Mom asks.

“That’s what we hope. If the FBI doesn’t come through, if eight kilos of heroin and certain knowledge that your son has in his possession don’t persuade him to help, then we’ll spirit Dan away and set him up on our own.”

“Will we know where he is?”

As Ink’s fingers press into my shoulder, I realise his tactile support is confirming that we won’t. I squeeze Mom’s hand. “It’s better knowing he’s somewhere out there alive than thinking he’s dead, Mom.”

She’s quiet. Everyone gives her time. Then, slowly, she nods. “I’ve been through hell thinking he was gone. Thinking I’d failed him by not protesting harder when he left to live with his father. Though short of locking him up, I don’t know what more I could have done. He’s not dead, but he could have died had you not found him when you did. You’re right, he can’t stay in Colorado, and can’t come home. I don’t want to resurrect him only to bury him for real. I hate it, but if this is a chance for him to turn his life around, he should take it.”

“You’ll have to continue with the funeral arrangements,” Demon says.

Mom and I exchange looks. I hadn’t thought about that. I squeeze her hand again as she says, “We can do that.”

As Mom agrees, I reckon we’ll be crying hard enough to convince anyone. Connor might not be dead, but from what Demon has said, once he leaves Pueblo, we’ll never see him again. As estranged as he might have been, he’s still family.

“You can have some time with him before you have to say goodbye,” says Demon. He takes out his phone and checks it. “I take it you want to go see him now.” He glances at Ink and adds, “Skull’s old room.”

“I do want to see him.” Mom stands.

“Patsy? He’s a family friend, okay? That’s all anyone here except the members know.”

“Anyone seeing him will notice the family resemblance. He looks like me,” I tell him straight.

“Not at the moment he doesn’t,” Demon replies enigmatically. Unless he’s talking about my blue hair, I have no idea what he means.

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