While I waited for him to come back with my order, I looked around but still didn’t see Rebel. Should I ask about her? How much of a wanker would that make me?
Deciding the possibility of getting laid outweighed my pride, I went for it. “Where’s Rebel?” I asked after Bobby set the two shots in front of me.
“You haven’t heard?” he answered, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Shit,” he muttered.
Why had I asked? Why had I even come in here tonight? I wasn’t sure I had enough alcohol in me to hear whatever it was he was about to say. I handed Lennox his pint and shot, downed the whiskey, and finished my beer. “Heard what?”
“Rebel’s in jail.”
“Bloody hell. What for?”
“Killin’ Possum.”
I gripped the bar, letting Bobby’s words sink in. I remembered every detail of what had happened that last night I was in town. Rebel hadn’t killed Possum, but I knew who had.
“Where’s Steel?” I asked.
“Fucker moved to Austin.”
Bobby moved away to wait on other customers, not that I planned to question him further. I’d get far more information about Rebel’s arrest from Decker.
“Ready?” I asked Lennox when I saw he’d finished his pint too. It was too noisy for me to try to explain why I didn’t want to order another.
We walked out to the parking lot in silence, and I was thankful for it. I was consumed by what had really happened that night as I got in the car and Lennox drove toward the ranch.
I checked the time on my mobile. It was a little after eight; not too late to send a text asking Decker if we could meet in the morning.
What’s your twenty? he answered a few seconds later.
Ranch gate.
At the main house.
“Stop here,” I said when we drove up. “There’s something I need to talk to Decker about.”
Lennox nodded and parked the car.
Once inside, I saw Grinder and Rile seated at the table along with Deck. With them were Quint Alexander, the ranch’s owner, and his wife, Duchess Darrow Whittaker-Alexander, who also happened to be an agent with my former employer, Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Service. I’d been with MI5, the domestic side, while Darrow, code name Shadow, was with the international MI6.
I walked over to kiss her cheek. “Hello, Shadow.”
Rile stood and embraced me. It had been almost a month since I saw him in London the night before my last surgery.
He took a step back, held out his hand, and I shook it. “Good,” he murmured, commenting on my grip. “Back to normal?”
I nodded, turning to Grinder. It had only been a week since I saw my best friend.
“You all right?” he asked as he embraced me like Rile had.
Grinder’s eyes scrunched when I shook my head.
“Can I get you a drink?” Quint asked.
“Please. If it’s not an intrusion.”
“Of course not.” As the son of MI6’s current chief, Quint was used to impromptu meetings taking place in his kitchen.
“Lynx.” Rile used my brother’s code name. “Do you have an answer for us?”