Page 59 of Property of Bones

The guy’s anxious, constantly checking over his shoulder. Eventually, a woman steps out of the Diner and into the alleyway. The man reaches into his pocket and passes the worker a small plastic baggie and some cash.

“Pause,” Spike says, voice low.

Foster freezes the frame.

We all lean in.

“Is that heroin?” Crusher asks.

“That or powdered Fentanyl,” I growl.

“No note?” Skip asks.

“Nope,” Foster says. “But I took the liberty of talking to the woman myself before I called this meeting. The man told her to make a few cookies with the powder and to make sure they went to the next Iron Shadow who came through the door. Didn’t care who.”

A beat of silence stretches.

“Did she know what it was?” Maverick asks, voice tense.

“I don’t think so,” Foster says. “She said he told her it was just a special ingredient. Claimed it was some kind of wellness booster. Said he’d heard bikers ‘loved the strong stuff.’ She thought it was a joke. Or a dare.”

He looks up from the laptop.

“She said she wouldn’t have done it if she knew the truth. She seemed legit scared. But she was desperate for that money. Her kid brother needed food.”

Spike’s jaw tightens, the muscle in his cheek twitching.

“Nieve woman,” Tank mutters. “We’ll have to talk with her and she needs to apologize to our women. But we won’t kill her.”

“Iwillbe killing someone,” I growl. “If it’s not this woman, then I want to know who the fuck that man is.”

Foster doesn’t answer.

He just unpauses the footage.

We watch the figure turn and raise his head.

Foster hits pause again.

The image freezes on a clear, unmistakable profile.

The room goes dead quiet.

“Son of a bitch,” Crusher breathes.

“Billy,” Spike says. The word hits the table like a hammer. “I should have fucking known he would find a way to sneak back in. Damnit. I should have killed him years ago.”

Silence.

No one breathes.

Foster breaks it first.

“I ran his cell as soon as I confirmed his identity. He’s not even trying to hide.”

He clicks again, and a map pulls up with a flashing red dot over a section in Eastgate.

“Billy doesn’t know we’ve got someone like me in the club now. He’s been sloppy. Phone’s pinging off towers nearRidgeview Road. Last ping was twenty minutes ago. Stupid fucker went back to the same dump he was staying at before.”

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