“Mr. Mendel?” a stern voice demanded through the phone. Adam didn’t recall picking the phone up or answering it, yet here he was talking to someone. It was nine o’clock in the morning. The day before, Adam had captured an assassin and been in a car accident; the day before he was chasing leads around the city. Tired was an understatement. Adam had planned to take the day off, to sleep in and forget about Scarred Angels and the dangers faced by the Kanes. Last night Joey had reminded him that he wasn’t doing this alone, he had family behind him and Adam could trust Scarred Angels to protect Dakota for a day.

 

Adam checked his phone and found that his early call was from Detective Evans. He sat up and wiped the drool from his mouth, ordering his brain to wake up. “This is Adam Mendel,” he said into the phone, his sleepy voice still rough from the night before.

 

“Mr. Mendel, it’s Detective Evans. Do you have a moment to speak?”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“Are you still working the Kane contract?”

 

“Yes,” Adam answered warily. Detective Evans did not sound pleased or excited and Adam guessed this wasn’t a call to inform him that the perps had confessed and named the mysterious person who had hired them.

 

“Last night Michael Martin and the man you apprehended attempting to kill Kane, the man who fired the shots, they...well. I’m not sure how to say this. Mr. Mendel, I can trust you to be discrete? We haven't released this information to the press yet, but we feel that the Kanes, and their security should be aware.”

 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Adam said, fully awake now.

 

“Last night, those two prisoners committed suicide. They both hung themselves with their bed sheets in their cells.”

 

“Shit,” Adam whispered.

 

“Yes, I agree.”

 

“How did this happen?”

 

“We’re looking into it.”

 

“Did either of them tell you anything? Did they tell you who was paying them?”

 

“Unfortunately, no. They didn’t.”

 

Adam wanted to scream and curse and hit something. He wanted to go back in time and interview the assassin himself; Adam could have made him talk. But now they were stuck back where they were before with no idea who the attackers were working for, spending every moment holding their breath and waiting for something to happen.

 

“We have, of course, re-opened our investigation,” Detective Evans said with a sigh. “But at the moment, we’re trying to keep this as quiet as possible, but we felt the Kanes should know. I’ve given you the courtesy of the first call. My partner is calling John Kane right now.”

 

“Thank you, Detective. I’ll tell you if I discover anything new.”

 

“And I’ll do the same. Good luck, Adam. Stay safe.” The call ended and Adam flopped back down into his bed. Suicide, he thought, more likely murder, a cop on the inside. It was an impressive feat for the Soul Stealers, but not impossible, something Adam knew well enough.

 

Still lying on his back, Adam called his uncle.

 

“Yes,” Bill said, his standard phone greeting.

 

“The two attackers committed suicide,” Adam sighed.

 

“Last night?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“So the Stealers have someone inside?”

 

“Yup, and they aren’t done with the Kanes.”

 

“I’ll spread the word,” Bill said and ended the call. Brief as always.

 

Adam called Joey next, but the call went to voicemail and Adam left instructions for Joey to call him. He knew he needed more sleep, a lot more sleep. But he was awake and his mind was racing with a million unanswered questions. There was no way he was falling back asleep now, so he pulled himself out of bed and jumped into the shower, remembering the last time he had been in there with Dakota.

 

He missed her that night. He missed her warm presence next to him. He wished she were there, wished they were drinking coffee together out back, just talking and being with each other. He needed to call her; he needed to tell her not to worry.

 

“Hi,” Dakota answered. Her voice was sweet, but here could hear a hint of sadness and worry in her voice. By now the detectives had called her father and she knew.

 

“You heard?” Adam asked.

 

“Yeah, Dad just got off the phone. What are we going to do? Adam this has to end. We have to find out who’s paying the Stealers to kill my father. I can’t keep living like this, jumping at every sound, always looking for threats.”

 

“I know, I know.” Adam said. “We will find out who’s doing this. So today, just stay at home and do what the guys there tell you to do.”

 

“I’m tired of this, Adam.”

 

“I know.” It was all he could say. He couldn’t promise she would never be attacked again and he couldn’t promise that it was over. He could only remind her that she wasn’t alone, that he understood, that finding a solution to this was more important to him than anything else.

 

“Um...I have to go. I’ll talk to you later?” she said.

 

“Yeah,” Adam responded. He couldn’t tell if there was something different in her voice, coldness or confusion. Most likely she was just as tired as he was. This was supposed to be a day of celebration; they had caught the bad guys and saved the good guys. But the threats weren’t over yet. They still had a long way to go.

 

Downstairs Adam put on a fresh cup of coffee. His body felt strained and ragged, like a car running on fumes. His ribs ached and his brain felt encased in fog. He hated feeling this way, useless and weak. He needed to be strong, for Scarred Angels and Dakota. He was the thread that kept everything connected, the thread that held everyone up. But he felt so thin, stretched to capacity. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

 

While the coffee dripped down into the carafe, Adam walked over to his front door. He couldn’t remember the last time he had checked his mail. As he opened his bright red front door, he was surprised to see a letter stapled there. It was a simple white envelope with the word MENDEL written with a sharpie on the front. Adam stared at it for a moment, his brain on a five second delay. He couldn’t figure out what it was doing there, who had put it there.

 

He reached up and pulled the letter free from the staple that held it. There were two items in the envelope. The first was a picture and Adam felt bile rise in his throat when he saw it: a Polaroid, taken in a low yellow light. In the center of the frame was Joey, his face beaten and bruised, one eye swollen shut, holding yesterday’s paper in his hands and giving the camera a defiant look. Behind the picture was a simple piece of lined yellow notebook paper with these words written in large block letters: MENDEL. TAKE OUT THE KANES AND HE WILL BE RETURNED WITHOUT FURTHER HARM.

 

If Adam had anything in his stomach, he would have wretched it all over the street. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t swallow. He stared up and down the street, but no one was out. When had they put this on his door, had anyone seen? Where was Joey? There was no information, no address, just the order to kill the Kanes and the empty promise that Joey would be returned if he did.

 

Adam leaned heavily against his doorframe staring at the picture. They had done it, the one thing they never should have done. The Soul Stealers had failed to kill the Kanes over and over again, the first time due to their own incompetence, the other times because Scarred Angels had been there to stop them. The Stealers understood that Scarred Angels was the only thing in their way, so now they were attacking the club to get to the Kanes.

 

Attack my family, Adam thought to himself, crushing the letter in his fist. All his tiredness was gone, the fog in his brain cleared. The Soul Stealers were done. Scarred Angels would take all of them out, not matter what the cost. They would be a warning for anyone who ever thought to attack Adam or his brothers again. The memories of the Soul Stealers would be nothing more than a warning whispered to others who would dare to threaten Scarred Angels. Adam was going to find Joey and he was going to find out who had taken him. No cops, no laws, Adam was going to end this once and for all, no matter what the cost was.