Page 46 of Lone Star

Jinx came in, the twins trailing along after him. As they pulled out their chairs, Blue followed, and Pup, and Cowboy…

A slow trickle. Candy sat, and sipped his coffee, though he was already having to resist bouncing his foot under the table. The air filled with the scent of freshly-lit cigarettes; lighters clicked, and chair legs scraped across the floor. Gringo was trying fruitlessly to get Talis to laugh at a joke; Pup was describing a sound his bike was making to a frowning, considering Blue who stroked his beard.

Colin was the last in, shutting the door with a “sorry, sorry,” and thumping down so hard his chair creaked. His brows popped up in comical alarm, and then he snugged up to the table gingerly.

All eyes swept to Candy.

Years ago, when he came home from New York, when Crockett had lost the ability to lead, and Candy had found himself at the head of this table, he’d known something like panic the first time everyone looked at him like this. His voice had come out uncharacteristically soft, and crackly. He’d sweated so badly he’d had to go take a shower after, and he wondered if there had been visible stains under his arms. That night, he’d called Ghost, and said, “How the hell do you do this?”

He’d laughed. “Heavy is the head.”

“Shut up,” Candy had shot back, “you don’t know that line. Your bookworm kid told it to you.”

Ghost had laughed again, and Candy had breathed a little easier.

He hadn’t felt those sorts of nerves in a long time, but he felt them now, and chased them with a swallow of coffee; cleared his throat.

“A lot’s been going on,” he started, “and I’ve talked to all of you.”

Pup’s lips pressed together, and Candy suddenly realized he didn’t know if he’d spoken to him; didn’t really remember explaining things save to Jinx, Colin, and Blue. Damn.

“I’ve talked to all of you,” he said again, more firmly, and continued. “But I wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

He rehashed all of it, even though no one looked surprised; even though he got nods and some glazed-over looks. There was a restless undercurrent in the room, one made audible by the lighting and sucking down of cigarettes; by the jangle of a wallet chain as a nervous leg bounced under the table.

“I asked Cantrell to get us these,” he said, pulling out the stack of business cards he’d slipped into his cut pocket earlier. He fanned them out on the table in front of him, and then began passing them down both sides, one at a time. “Everybody put one in your wallet. If you see something that needs handling, call him. If the cops give you any kind of fuss, show them that, and then call him.”

Blue turned his card over and over between his fingers, expression concerned.

Jinx stared at Candy, even more stone-faced than usual.

“This guy,” Pup spoke up, hesitant, tapping the edge of his card against the tabletop. “Do you trust him?”

A hush fell; just a quick pause, before Cowboy cleared his throat.

Gringo fiddled with the zipper of his cut in an old, well-known nervous gesture.

It was said in the most deferential of ways, because Pup would always be a good kid, no matter what the club asked of him, but it was a loaded question nonetheless, and everyone knew it.

Candy let out a breath. “Do I trust him with my life? No. With club secrets? Hell no. I’m not signing any kinda contract with the guy,” he said, and sent a hard glance around the table, the kind no one ever argued with. Most of the guys dropped their gazes a fraction; all but Jinx, still being a stubborn holdout. “But we’ve got common cause here. This won’t be the first time we’ve cooperated with the law. Be on your toes, don’t do anything stupid in front of him, and we’ll be fine. It’s important we catch these guys.”

It was quiet a moment, but no one argued.

Talis said, “How’s Michelle?”

It surprised Candy that it was cliff-faced Talisman, of all people, who’d inquired after her. He dipped his head in thanks. “She’s good. Tough as nails, you know?”

“Does Cantrell know what happened last night?” Jinx asked, voice flat.

Candy withheld a sigh. “I haven’t told him, no. But if he watches the morning news, he’s probably seen it. There’s no way there’s not a crew out there filming the scene.”

“Let somebody ride out and have a look,” Blue suggested.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go,” Jinx said, and pushed his chair back.

Another silence fell, this one even thornier. You didn’t dismiss yourself from church; the president dismissed you.

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