We check the roof of the hotel across the street; there’s nothing. We try a nearby apartment building, same deal.
The third building we check is an office building that Sin breaks into without setting off the alarm; I’m impressed. But still, our search yields no fruit.
I maintain regular communication with Beast, but so far, everything is normal.
Well, as normal as an MC president meeting up with an FBI informant ever possibly could be.
Because nobody is what they seem in life. Fucking nobody. The whole world is twisted and weird and broken. That’s the only surety, understanding that what we see on the surface of others is usually a lie, a carefully presented package.
There’s always so much more underneath.
It isn’t until we’re heading back toward our bikes, and I’m frustrated as fuck with this whole situation, that I happen to glance across the street and see a woman approaching the doors of the police station.
She looks familiar to me, but I can’t figure out why that is.
Her hair is blonde, drawn up into a ponytail that isn’t dissimilar to mine. Based on her clothing, I’m guessing she’s older than me, maybe Nellie’s age. In reality, there’s no reason for me to be suspicious of her. None at all.
Except that I recognize the sweatshirt she’s wearing.
I recognize it because I remember very specifically that I teased Carol Briggs for wearing it to school once. There’s a huge cross on the back, and a slogan that reads: Render to no man evil for evil. Take thought for things honorable in the sight of all men. – Romans 12:17
Which, you know, I thought was all bullshit.
Also, in this case, it happens to be ironic as fuck.
Because Carol Briggs’ mother is not at this police station on this night by any sort of fateful accident.
Without hesitation, I take off across the street and hear the guys curse in chorus behind me. To their credit, I make it about … eh, five feet before Sin is snatching me by the back of the jacket and hauling me against him.
“Gidget, what the fuck?” he asks, releasing me almost immediately.
“That stupid tactical team isn’t coming tonight,” I say, realizing it before anyone else. I slap the back of one hand into the palm of the other. “That’s too obvious, right? And it’s too stupid.” I realize with a frantic sort of desperation what’s happening here.
Grey’s father doesn’t trust him. He must know that, right? Because he’s a smart boy.
But maybe he doesn’t fully understand what’s happening. I know that I didn’t, until just now. It just fucking hit me.
Alvise expected his son to leak this information.
He also expected the guys to do exactly what they said they were going to do: bring an army.
Cat, in his anger, has inadvertently saved Grey’s ass.
Shit.
“That woman, that’s Carol Briggs’ mom,” I blurt, grabbing onto the front of Sin’s cut. He’s looking at me like he believes in my urgency, but also like he has no goddamn clue who Carol Briggs is. Why would he? She’s nothing to him. Honestly, for as guilty as I feel about her death, I don’t give her much thought either.
But she most certainly was and is someone to her mother.
“The girl who died at church camp!” I snap, even though it’d probably be more accurate to say the girl that I got killed at church camp. “We need to fucking move.”
Crown and Grainger exchange a look, and then I think it hits them at the same time. That’s the bonus of working with people who are on the same wavelength as you, who understand you, and who are as smart as you are.
Sin blinks at me and then curses, looking at me like he isn’t sure what to do with me. Escort me away and let the other men handle it? Take me with him?
“We can’t fire on a grieving mother in a police station,” Crown suggests, and that’s the truth. It’s the perfect crime, if you think about it. If Ms. Briggs killed Cat here, and then Beast or whoever else in the club killed her, bonus points for the mafia. That person would be arrested and probably charged with something. Maybe they’d get off on self-defense, maybe not?
“Let me talk to her,” I say, feeling my palms get itchy. We need to move and we’re just standing. I turn and take off again, and the guys let me. But they are right on my ass, I’ll tell you that right now.
I pause suddenly on the sidewalk and make a split-second decision, stripping off Beast’s jacket and chucking it at Sin. I add both guns and the knife to the pile, too.
“The hell, Gidge?” he asks as I shake my head.
“Let me go first; they’re never going to let in three more Daybreakers.” I pound up the steps outside the station, fully aware that we’re running short on time here.
