Page 28 of Lone Star

Patty didn’t answer. He glared at Candy and said, “What do you want?” Almost desperate.

Candy couldn’t ever remember seeing Patty like this before:scared.

Before a few days ago, he hadn’t ever seen Pacer scared, either.

“Pat –Patty.” He’d had his list of questions written out in his head, all ready to chat and meander his way toward the harder stuff. Get Patty off his guard until he could steer the conversation into a more serious direction. But now, he felt like he was talking to a small animal caught in a trap; the moment he could gnaw his leg free, he’d be gone. So when he had eye contact, Candy said, low and serious, “Someone’s got you spooked.”

Patty’s eyes went wide, wild and white-rimmed, and he took a step back.

“Wait,” Candy hissed. “Tell me who it is, and we can protect you.” Another step. “Patty, I know he’s killing people. The vics are drugged, and he’s tying them out with–”

Patty whirled and fled toward the house.

“Patty!” Candy called after him.

Shoes slapped up the porch steps, and then the screen door crashed shut.

The crow in the tree let out a disgruntled squawk and took flight, branch bowing with the force of his leap to the air.

Candy stood there a moment, skin prickling – not with fear, but with an unpleasant sort of adrenaline rush. The surge of awareness that things might –might– be much thornier and spookier than he’d originally thought.

He turned, and Jinx was regarding him with arms folded, jaw firmer now, his judgement less blank, and more pointed. “Don’t say it,” Candy said.

Jinx shrugged. But, spoken or not, the judgement was there, settling like an unwelcome weight across Candy’s shoulders.

Fifteen

“It’s about us,” Candy said on the other end of the line, and Michelle paused on her way around her car. TJ was already buckled into his seat in the back, and she was headed for the driver door. She rested a hand on the edge of the trunk as a fresh wave of nausea washed through her.

“Us.”

“About the club,” he amended. He sighed. “At least, I think. We went to see Patty.”

She made a face even though he couldn’t see. She’d met Patty once, when he came by the club. He’d smelled like he used weed for deodorant.

“Someone’s got him scared sober. Wouldn’t even talk to us. Whatever’s happening, it’s organized. Someone’s making an effort.”

“Someone’s trying to break onto the scene,” she said, grimly, belly tightening further. It was inevitable: when a hierarchy existed, people would step up to challenge it. She’d hoped – no matter how sick it made her – that these killings were the work of a deranged madman. Something finite and freakish that could be handled, over and done with. But Jenny had seen two men fleeing her yard this morning. And if Lean Dogs’ friends and former dealers were being targeted…

“Any ID on the bodies at Colin and Jenny’s?” she asked. Candy, nor Colin, nor Blue had recognized him.

“Yeah, Cantrell called. Guy named Dalton. He’d been busted a few times for possession. No ID on the other. We’re headed over to Pacer’s now, gonna see if he ever heard of him.”

“Okay.”

“You still at home?”

“Just leaving. It’s inventory day at the bar.”

“Chelle.” His voice hardened.

She bristled immediately. “Don’tChelleme. Am I supposed to just sit at home, knitting blankets and worrying about you?”

He snorted at the idea, but his voice was still firm when he spoke. “Nobody’s going anywhere alone until we get this handled. I’m putting my foot down on that.”

Growing up in the club, she’d learned two things:

One: when a Lean Dog said you weren’t going somewhere alone, you could do all the arguing you wanted, butsomebodywas going to tail you like a shadow, so there was no sense fighting about it.

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