Maddox

I rode back to the house with Kade, Benz, and Axle by my side. I knew without a doubt something was off. I didn’t have to ask them for help. They were as focused as I was without a shred of proof. I just knew.

“My bet is on The Hawks again,” Kade said.

I agreed. They’d done something to my girl. They’d found out Jonesy C was dead and put the blame where it should go. Me.

And they put the payback where it would hurt the most. Tracy.

“Let’s look around. See if we can get a bead on what’s missing or what’s wrong,” Axle suggested.

“I’m checking on Sarge.”

Kade, Benz, and Axle walked around the first floor while I found Sarge in his room.

“Hey, you up?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He had fallen asleep in his chair.

“Have you seen Tracy?”

“Yeah, earlier, she was going to bring me some dinner, but I must have dozed off. I’m starving now, must have slept through it.”

I looked around. There was no tray of food. No indication that the old man had eaten a meal in hours.

“She said she was going to bring you food and didn’t?”

“Yeah, but I ain’t mad about it. What’s wrong?”

“Did you hear anything? Or notice anything suspicious tonight?”

“Shit, Maddox. Do you think I’d be sitting here dozing if I did? I’m old, not an idiot.” Sarge growled his answer at me.

“Think. What happened around here after she said she’d make you dinner? You need to think.”

The same dread I’d felt was sinking into Sarge now. I saw him lean forward in his chair and his eyes dart around.

“No, nothing weird. I heard Fitzie’s car earlier. He probably left you something, I guessed. But he does that every few days.”

That was true. I’d let Fitzie come in and out, deliver shit, take things to the club for me.

“Only sound was his car?”

“Yeah, so what? Where’s Tracy?”

“I don’t know but I think she’s in trouble.”

“Find her fast, boy,” Sarge said urgently.

I was already headed to Olivia’s room.

She was a witness to everything and nothing. Her nurse sat there quietly.

“Was Tracy here?”

“Yes, normal evening visit,” she answered.

“Anyone else?”

“No. She looked at those binders of Olivia’s and then left. I guess she was sort of moving fast if I think about it.”

“What binder?” The nurse stood up and opened a dresser drawer. She pulled out three big binders and handed them to me.

“Miss Plumb was using them to make to-do lists I believe. They’re your sister’s.”

“Thank you.”

I walked into the kitchen and spread out the books. Color charts, sketches of rooms, to do lists, recipes for Dad’s favorite foods … it almost hurt to see my sister’s vibrant handwriting.

“What you got?” Axle and the others joined me in the kitchen.

“I don’t know. Just page through this. It’s what Tracy was doing the last time the nurse saw her.”

Kade, Axle, and Benz did what I asked. We rifled through as fast as we could.

“Oh, this would be a nice color in here,” Kade said as he held up a paint sample. He was fucking serious.

“Focus?” I said and we kept looking. Benz put a hand on my arm.

“You got something?”

“Olivia didn’t have a boyfriend, right?” Benz asked me. He was studying a piece of paper that was in the binder he had.

“No, not that I knew about.”

“Look.”

He handed me a piece of stationery paper. It was some sort of poem, in shaky scrawl. It made zero sense, and it wasn’t signed. Except there was something familiar about it. I’d seen something like this every day.

“Shit.”

“What?” Benz asked me.

“Hold on. Keep looking, see if there’s any more love notes or poems.”

I raced upstairs to the third floor.

I knew I’d seen that writing. I pushed the envelopes around on my desk. And there it was: the latest packet of stuff from The Dark Saints.

Scrawled on the front of the envelope were the words “club stuff.”

I knew exactly who had written that fucking poem to Olivia.

And I had his number.