Luckily he and his biker friends were stopped, but not before Ashley shot one of them in the leg. All three—Darrell, Brick, and Mortar—were presently awaiting trial and would hopefully serve serious prison time.

“What does Brick and Mortar trying to kidnap my family have to do with anything? Why are you here?”

“Cause, Duane, Brick and Mortar were our mechanics. Now they’re gone, we’ve got nobody to take over their work. That’s where you boys and this shop come in.” Dirty Dave gestured to the inside of the garage.

“So, what? You want me to fix your bikes?”

“No, son. You might not like it, but your daddy is one of us, that means you’re family too, and you owe us. Brick and Mortar were our mechanics…”

I blinked at Repo, knowing I was missing the point, and waited for him to fill in the blanks.

When he saw I didn’t understand his meaning, he huffed then spelled it out. “They ran the chop shop. They dismantled the cars. They took our stolen goods and made them transportable.”

“You and your brother Beau, the two of you are going to take over running our chop shop.” Dirty Dave connected the dots for me even as the picture Repo painted clarified in my head.

A sound of repulsion and disbelief escaped my mouth before I could stop it, followed by, “Oh, hell no.”

“Hell yes, boy.”

“Hell. No. And stop calling me 'boy'.” I was three seconds away from punching Dirty Dave in the jaw.

Repo must’ve seen my patience snap because he stepped forward, between Dave and me, again holding his hands up. “Now, you need to listen to reason. We got evidence against your brother Jethro that’ll put him away for life. Not for years, for life.”

“Bullshit.”

“No. No bullshit,” Dirty Dave denied from behind Repo. “This shit is real.”

My attention was split between them; I was looking for any sign of subterfuge. “Like I said before, you incriminate him for those stolen cars then you’re incriminating yourself.”

“No. Not with this.” Repo reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a thumb drive. He offered it to me.

I glared at him instead of taking it. “What is it?”

“Jethro got out of the Order three years ago, and the video on this drive will show you how he bought his freedom. In the scheme of things, it was a small price. But this small price carries a hefty federal sentence if the police were to find out what he did.”

I narrowed my eyes, feeling equal parts suspicion and panic. “What did he do?”

Repo pushed the thumb drive against my chest, forcing me to take it. “Watch this. Then you’ll know. Then, when you see things our way, you call us.”

The flash drive landed in the palm of my hand and I glared at Repo, wanting to crush it under my boot and despising the fact I couldn’t.

The older man scratched his goatee as he studied me, the solemnity of his expression increasing until, with grave severity, he added in a low voice, “Don’t be stupid. There’s no reason to include your brother Billy in this. He don’t need to know.”

I didn’t say so, but I agreed with Repo on this one. Billy’s answer would be to go directly to the police, all the while waving his middle finger at the Iron Order. Billy loved Jethro, but he hated the Order more. In fact, I was pretty sure Billy hated the Order more than he loved anything—except maybe our momma. But with her death, Billy’s regard for Momma was a moot point.

“But,” Dirty Dave stepped around his biker brother and waved his fat finger at my chest, “you got two weeks, Duane. Two weeks to decide, or else we send an anonymous tip to Sheriff James and you can visit Jethro on the weekends…at the Federal Correctional Institution in Memphis.”

***

I did nothing with the thumb drive at first except hide it. When I got home that night I researched thumb drives and whether they could be used to install spyware or cause mischief on my personal computer. Everything I read made me nervous.

I thought about calling Jethro or Drew, but decided against it. Jethro was now a law-abiding park ranger for the National Forest and Drew was his boss. They were currently together on a trek in the mountains some two hundred miles away, and only reachable via satellite phone.

I was also feeling paranoid and didn’t think it prudent to have a telephone conversation about my brother’s previous illegal activities. Discussing matters with Jethro would have to wait until he got back from the mountains.

In the end, I decided to talk to Beau—and only Beau—about everything when he and Cletus arrived home on Saturday. There was no reason to include my other brothers in the discussion. Worst-case scenario, if it turned out that the only way to keep Jethro out of prison was conscription of the Winston Brothers Auto Shop, then Beau and I would have to do it alone. I didn’t want anyone else getting caught up in this tangle.

The fewer people who knew about this business with the Iron Order the better. Billy, Cletus, and Roscoe could plead true ignorance if Beau and I were caught.

Before I went to sleep, I further decided to drive into Knoxville in search of a pawn shop as soon as dawn broke the next morning.

On my way into town I grabbed a doughnut and caffeine fix from Daisy’s Nut House, an early riser café for locals of Green Valley. The warm, jelly-filled pastry paired with her drip coffee did a bit to settle my uncommon nerves. Though I still felt cautious, so I decided not to search for a pawn shop using my iPhone or computer, deciding it was better to leave no computer trail of my activities…just in case.

Thankfully, I found a shop that looked promising called Discount Larry’s Gun and Pawn. Because these places always have surveillance cameras, I parked across the street, and pulled on my brother Roscoe’s Yankee’s baseball hat (something I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing) and non-descript blue hoodie.

I kept my head down as I entered and did a fast sweep of the merchandise, finding what I was searching for almost immediately. I paid in cash and left the shop quickly, having shared no words with the proprietor.

I jogged back to my car.  I then took the long road back to Green Valley, but stopped by Mr. Tanner’s junk yard on my way. It was there, down the tree-lined dirt road to one side of the junk yard, that I opened the old laptop I’d just purchased from the pawn shop, and watched the video.

What I saw made me want to murder my oldest brother.

And when Beau got home on Saturday, he could help me figure out how to hide Jethro’s body.

CHAPTER 8

“Men read maps better than women because only men can understand the concept of an inch equaling a hundred miles.”

― Roseanne Barr

~Jessica~

Nobody ever expects a Mustang convertible.

Especially not Duane Winston leaning against a dark blue Mustang convertible with a white top and racing stripe. The convertible had a white top and racing stripe, not Duane. He was wearing faded, bootcut blue jeans that fit nice and snug over his hips, and a charcoal colored thermal. As I approached—after I recovered from my surprise—I noticed the shirt’s color made his eyes appear almost gray.

He wasn’t smiling, but I did have all his focus, and Duane’s focus made me self-conscious and unsteady. Therefore, my smile was dreamy and reflexive.

“What are you doing here?” I gestured to the high school parking lot. It was Thursday afternoon and I’d just received a text message from my brother Jackson; he was on his way to pick me up so I was coming outside to wait.

Instead of answering my question, Duane leaned forward, placed his hand on my hip, and gave me a soft kiss that stole my breath and made every inch of my skin hot.

Then he leaned away, his hand falling back to his side, and answered simply, “I’m bringing you your car.”