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“They blamed me for Shadow's murder,” she admitted.
“We know that part,” he said.
“No.” Angel swallowed. “I mean, it’s why the order was never lifted.”
Ghost stepped closer, and Jackhammer narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”
Angel looked toward the window. “When I disappeared, Razor told everyone I ran because I was guilty.”
“Convenient,” Ghost muttered.
“But that wasn't the only reason,” she said. Jackhammer waited. Angel rubbed her palms against her jeans. “My father kept records.”
“What kind of records?” Monster asked.
“He kept records on everything,” she said.
Jackhammer's gut tightened. “Club business?” Angel nodded.
“Runs, money, names, payments, and deals. He kept records on all the people the Nomad Knights worked with. People they paid, and people who paid them,” she said.
“Jesus Christ,” Ghost muttered.
“My father didn't trust computers. He kept handwritten ledgers,” she added.
“And where are they?” Jackhammer asked.
Angel looked at him. “I don't know.”
Ghost laughed, but nobody else joined him. “You're telling us the president of an outlaw motorcycle club kept handwritten records of every illegal thing his club did, he gets murdered, and then those records disappear?”
“Yes,” she said.
“And Razor thinks you have them,” Ghost said. Angel didn't answer, and he stepped closer. “Angel.”
“I don't have them,” she said.
“That wasn't what I asked,” Ghost prompted.
Her eyes flashed. “Razor thinks I do.” Jackhammer rubbed a hand over his beard because this just kept getting better.
Monster swore through the phone. “Why would he think that?”
“Because Dad trusted me,” she said.
“Enough to give you club records?” Jackhammer asked.
“No. My father loved me, but he wasn't stupid. I wasn't patched. I wasn't part of club business,” she said.
“Then why are you being hunted by your father’s club?” Ghost asked.
Angel looked uncomfortable, and Jackhammer recognized it immediately. She had another secret. “Angel.”
“I don't know,” she lied.
“Bullshit,” Ghost said.
She glared at him. “I don't.”
