Page 179 of Bone’s Choice

“I didn’t say shit.”

“Your face did.”

I laughed.

Bone looked back at me. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

“Lock your doors tonight.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “I always do.”

“Good.”

There was something in his voice that made me want to ask why he’d said that, but I didn’t. He had club business, and from the look on his face, now wasn’t the time to ask questions.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Bone

Tuesday finally came.

Myth and I had left the clubhouse a little after seven. The ride to Waupaca had given me time to think, but I hadn’t come up with anything new. Owen Mercer had worked security at the Milwaukee transfer facility. According to Eli, he’d seen Owen talking to someone and then watched that same man kill him.

That was what we knew.

Everything else was speculation.

Maybe Owen had figured out we were moving guns inside some of our coffins. Maybe he’d threatened to talk. Maybe someone involved in our operation had found out and decided to shut him up before he could.

It would explain why Owen was dead.

It didn’t explain why the fuck someone had stuffed his body inside a casket and sent him directly back to Grave Casket Co.

That part kept bothering me.

The truck stop Eli had picked was busy enough that nobody paid attention to two motorcycles rolling through the lot. Semis lined the back rows. Cars moved in and out near the building. People were getting gas, buying food, and doing whatever the fuck people did at truck stops at nine o’clock at night.

Myth rode beside me as I followed the pavement around the building. The access road Eli had described was exactly where he’d said it would be.

Narrow, cracked, and half swallowed by weeds.

We followed it away from the lights of the truck stop until an old metal storage building came into view.

I slowed when one vehicle sitting near it came into view.

We rolled closer and parked twenty feet from the truck.

Nobody got out.

I killed my bike. Myth did the same.

The sudden quiet made every little sound around us louder.

Crickets. Traffic from the highway. The distant hiss of air brakes from the truck stop.

I swung my leg over my bike.