Page 25 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

9

Gage

The last thingI expect to see when I come into the kitchen with the others is some random man sitting at the table with River. He’s older than us, holding a notepad and watching her intently, and it gets my hackles up just seeing them together.

I don’t know who the fuck this guy is, but I don’t like him already.

River doesn’t look either distressed or happy to see him, but something about the way he’s leaning toward her just a bit sets off that protective possessiveness in me, making me want to get between them and demand to know who he is and what he wants.

Before I can act on any of that, River catches my gaze. Her expression is… off, somehow. I’ve seen a lot of different looks on her face, usually ranging from annoyed to irritated to downright pissed as shit when she’s looking at me, but none of those match how she looks now.

There’s something there, something only people who know her would be able to see and recognize. Like she’s wearing a mask, keeping her true feelings hidden.

“Ah,” the man says, getting to his feet and holding out a hand toward me since I was the first one to enter the kitchen. My brothers are all standing behind me, and even though I’m sure it’s not visible, I can feel the tension in them. “You must be the owners of the house. Mitch Carter. FBI.”

That explains more than it doesn’t, and understanding floods me in a rush. River is keeping herself so neutral because she’s being questioned by the feds.

I keep my own mask in place, giving a tight nod and reaching out to shake Carter’s hand.

We’ve had cops sniffing around our business plenty of times, but we’ve made a point to keep everything air-fucking-tight. No loose ends, nothing suspicious. That’s why we had to fuck Derrek up so bad, and why we ended up with River in our lives in the first place. We make sure that Sin and Salvation is clean on paper, and that there’s nothing the cops could nail us for.

Mitch Carter is clearly looking for something, and whatever it is, I don’t think he got it from River. She knows how to play this game and play it well, I’m certain.

“Is there something we can do for you?” I ask Carter, keeping my voice even.

“I just have a few questions for you all now that you’re here, if you don’t mind,” he replies.

I know better than to think it matters even a little if we do mind, so I just nod. The others will follow my lead. This isn’t our first rodeo with this kind of shit, even though I’m pretty sure we all know why a federal agent is here now.

“You were all at the gala the other night, correct?” he asks. “At The Chalet?” He names the expensive-ass hotel we were all at for the event.

“That’s right,” I answer.

“And you all arrived and left together?”

“Yup. Sure did,” Ash chimes in.

“We picked up River from her apartment, and we stayed together the whole night,” Priest adds.

Carter glances between us all, looking away only to make a few notes.

“Did you know Ivan St. James?” he asks, his gaze still focused on the pad of paper where he’s jotting things down.

“I knew him by name and reputation,” I reply. “He owned the apartment complex I grew up in.”

I can feel it when River’s eyes land on me, and I know she’s absorbing that information. Carter looks to the others, and they all say they knew Ivan by reputation and not in any real way.

None of that is a lie, either. Aside from River, none of us ever had any personal dealings with the man. He owned the building I grew up in and was a fucking slumlord, so I’ve never lacked reasons to hate him, but I’ve never had a face to face meeting with him either.

The agent jots it all down, then looks up again. “Just a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”

Again, a useless statement. If I did mind, it’s not like I could say anything about it. So I just put on a bland smile and nod. “Of course.”

“Our forensics team was able to estimate the time of Ivan’s death. We believe he died just a few nights ago, actually. Which is probably good for whoever wanted to put him on display. Still easily identifiable, but not too much of a smell.”

I make a face at the thought of someone’s rotting corpse being put out for everyone to see. What the fuck is this guy aiming for, setting up an image like that? Does he want to see how I’ll respond? If one of us will crack from the mental image of it?

No one really makes a face, although I see Ash shudder a bit in my periphery. That’s fine. It’s a normal reaction that Carter glosses right over.

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