Page 64 of Striker’s Rebel

Maybe for her to finally see him.

She doesn’t.

So I turn and walk toward the back hallway before she can watch me cry.

Chapter 8

Striker

By the time I get back to the clubhouse, Grim has enough men around the table to tell me somebody found something.

Torch stands at his right. Ash has the Red Den deliveries spread across the table. Lock has his laptop open, Riot sits back watching everyone, and Razor walks in behind me with coffee.

Hound is missing.

Probably somewhere useful.

I take the chair beside Grim.

“Tell me we’ve got something.”

Lock turns the laptop toward me.

“We went back through every Red Den route.”

Three deliveries came up short.

Two cases on the first. One on the second. Three on the third.

Six cases that left our warehouse and never reached Pete.

That part we already know.

What’s on Lock’s screen is new.

“The trucks carrying the short orders all stopped at the same place outside town.”

I lean closer.

“Supposed to?”

“No. Nine minutes. Eleven. Twelve.”

“What about the other Red Den deliveries?”

“Straight through.”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

“What’s there?”

“Closed service station. Wide pull-off.”

Riot looks over.

“Two drivers remember why they stopped. Debris in the road. Somebody flagging them down. Third doesn’t remember stopping at all.”

“And the trucks?”