Page 130 of Bitter’s Sweet

I already don’t like the way he says it.

“No.”

He looks at me. “I haven’t said anything.”

“You got the face.”

“What face?”

“The one where technology makes you forget people got rights.”

Boogie whispers to Ghoul, “That was weirdly specific.”

CSI ignores him. “Razor’s tracker is still functional.”

My chair goes hard beneath me.

“No.”

“We put it back on her car.”

“No.”

“We don’t put Sweet in the car.”

“I said no.”

Hyde’s eyes settle on me. “Let him finish.”

I look at my president, then at CSI.

He continues carefully. “Ghoul drives Sweet’s car out the cemetery road and parks it at the old equipment shed. We lock the area down first. Razor sees the tracker move and thinks she left the club grounds. If he comes, we see who comes with him.”

“No.”

Nevermore rubs his jaw. “Could tell us whether Razor and the shipment crew are the same people.”

“I do not give a fuck.”

The room quiets.

Hyde’s expression changes. “You ought to.”

I stand. “Yesterday I told her nobody was putting that tracker back on her car.”

“And yesterday,” Hyde says, “we weren’t moving a shipment tonight with Ravenfork watching three roads.”

“She ain’t bait.”

“She won’t be there.”

“That ain’t the point.”

“Then tell me the point.”

My hands flatten on the table.

“The point is I gave her my word.”