Destroyer nodded. “Good advice most of the time. Not so much this time. Came in lookin’ for food. Alena didn’t cook this afternoon, did she?” he asked, a hopeful note in his usual expressionless voice.
“She’s at her restaurant,” Maestro said. “She’ll feed you. Anything on the menu. She never charges. The money’s all the same.”
Destroyer shook his head. “I make her uncomfortable. Don’t want to do that in her own place. She loves that restaurant. Sometimes she leaves food in the fridge here.”
“Might be leftovers from last night,” Preacher pointed out.
“Not anything Alena made, though,” Maestro said. “Everyone goes back for seconds.”
“What else do you know about Zyah, Player?” Code asked.
“She loves her grandmother. I got the feeling her grandmother raised her and that she lives close by. Maybe in Sea Haven. She’s definitely from the Middle East.”
“Can you narrow it down a bit?” Code persisted. “Which country?”
Player shook his head. “I’m sorry. She didn’t talk much about her family dynamic. I didn’t either, so I felt like I couldn’t pry. After a while we weren’t talking all that much.”
“Master said he was coming in tonight and wanted me here,” Steele said, looking at his watch. “I don’t like being away from home all that long. Did something happen that I should know about? He didn’t want me to bring Breezy.”
“Yeah, we ran into some trouble. We’ll fill in everyone at the meeting, but Master has a passenger with him; that’s why we were separated. We followed the Ghosts to New Mexico, straight to the diner where Breezy used to work.”
Steele’s head jerked up. “Is she in some kind of trouble again? Are they coming for her? Czar called me, left me a message and said it was important and to call him back, but I wanted to check on you first. Is this about Breezy? Is she in trouble, Player?”
“No. But the two we were following met up with four members of the Swords club in the diner. I had to work hard to build an illusion fast to keep them from recognizing us. They were very close to us. They were there to make a deal with the Ghosts. But more to the point, they found out Breezy worked there before she disappeared. They were trying to track her down. Delia Swanson, her former boss, told them she didn’t know anything more, but the apartment Breezy had stayed in was rented in Delia’s name. They didn’t believe her.”
Steele stood up and paced across the floor. “Please tell me they didn’t kill her boss. She loves that woman. And I owe her everything for taking care of Breezy and my boy.”
“She was selling the diner. Had a buyer. The fuckin’ Swords burned it down that night and made a try for her. We were waiting for them. Master and I took them out and had her throw a few things together. Master has her with him in her vehicle. We thought she could take the empty apartment over the bar next to Bannister’s apartment until she decides what she wants to do. She’ll be safe with us here. She has her retirement money, and Code and Absinthe can deal with the insurance company for her on the diner,” Player said. “At least that was what we thought. We couldn’t just leave her there. The Swords would have killed her.”
“No, no, you did the right thing by bringing her. We’ll talk to Czar. The club can protect her. The Swords don’t have a clue you have her?” Steele asked.
“No, they didn’t ever see us. Neither did the Ghosts. I held the illusion for over forty-eight hours. That’s the longest I’ve ever managed. I didn’t have a choice. We couldn’t afford anyone to identify us as being Torpedo Ink. We told her Breezy was with you and we would take her to you and Breezy. She wanted to come. She’s not without her own money, so she won’t be a burden.”
“You’re absolutely certain this isn’t a setup?” Code asked the question that Czar had already asked when they called him to report everything and ask him what he wanted them to do. “You’re sure you weren’t made and this woman isn’t here to kill Breezy?”
THREE
“Men are assholes, Mama Anat,” Zyah said. “In case you aren’t aware.”
“Zyah, language.” Anat had a small smile on her face when she looked up at her granddaughter. Although she was in her sixties, she didn’t look it. There were no wrinkles on her face, only a few crow’s-feet around her eyes and laugh lines around her mouth. “Although, I must say, there are times when I might agree with you.”
Zyah couldn’t help laughing. There was no way to be in the same room with her grandmother and not laugh. It had always been that way throughout the years, when her grandmother had raised her. She felt love welling up the way it always did when she looked at Anat—or even just thought about her.