Page 84 of Scatter the Bones

“True, but you’re also working with me on website maintenance, and helping out at Cedarwood’s. Even though that’s Upstate’s action, it’s still a club business.”

“Bro, we both know the only person I’m helping out there ismyself.”

“That’s not true. Supposedly, the old man gave Rock an earful at the funeral about how much you help out around there. Seems like he appreciates it.”

“What? Margot’s dad talked to Rock? About me?” How’d I miss that?

‘Cause you were stalking Margot all day instead of paying attention to anything else.

“Apparently.”

“How doyouknow?”

“Z mentioned it last night. I guess Teller called him and gave him a report of what went on at the funeral.”

Not sure how I feel about being mentioned in Teller’s “report” of anything.

“And, we want to expand our presence in that area,” Rooster continues, “so having you out there helps in that department too.”

Ididwalk around downtown Johnsonville in my cut this morning. “Funny you said that. I stopped at Strike Back today and watched the place for Sully so he could run home.” I pull the info I’d gotten about the laundromat out and hand it to Rooster. “Found a potential investment. Something to give us a foothold out there. You think it’s worth bringing to the table?”

“Hell yeah.” He grins and flips open the packet. “Maybe it’s something both Upstate and Downstate can invest in, so we have one joint business.”

Both charters are good about helping out wherever we’re needed, but I get what Rooster’s saying. A business we each have a stake in makes sense.

He hands the packet back to me and I stuff it inside my cut.

“I’d bring it up after church. With just the officers for now,” he suggests.

“Yeah, okay.”

As soon as we step into the clubhouse, the sugary-sweet scent of vanilla and bananas fills the clubhouse. My stomach rumbles.

“You think Shelby will let me grab a pancake early?” I ask Rooster.

He huffs a laugh. “I don’t think she’d say no to you.”

We head down to the dining room together. The coffee station’s set up, but we continue into the kitchen.

Shelby’s at one counter cutting fruit while Heidi’s flipping pancakes from the griddle to a big platter. Alexa, Chance, and Grace are seated on the other side of the counter, each with their own plate-sized pancake, decorating them with fruit and whipped cream.

Murphy’s on the other side of the kitchen at a table with baby Brittany.

“Now I know why the whole clubhouse smells like banana cream dreams,” I say, snagging a still-hot pancake from Heidi’s platter. “Ow, fuck!”

“Duh, it just came off the griddle, Jiggy.” Heidi waves her spatula at me.

I grab a napkin off the counter and toss the pancake on it.

“Do you want a plate like a civilized person?” Shelby asks, waving a paper plate through the air.

“No, it’s not going to last that long.” I borrow the can of whipped cream from Chance, squirt a big glob of it on the pancake, fold it in half and stuff a big piece in my mouth.

The kids giggle and point at me, so I add a bunch of nom-nom noises, making them laugh harder.

Shelby shakes her head. “Hungry much?”

“Starving,” I mumble around the mouthful. “I’ve been running all over the tri-county area and then your man made me do manual labor.”

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