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“Rachelle called me. To check on things. I told her Lena left town.” Gavin’s rumble sends a shiver down my spine.
“There’s no way she could know any better than us which way she’s going,” I mutter, trying to calculate which way she may have gone. Clues. Anything.
“Unless she had some way of tracking Hellena’s car. She’s lived with Rachelle for years. And it turns out Rachelle had a reason to keep tabs on her!” Tell hits it on the head.
“Cool. So where does that leave us? No creek. No paddle. No fucking boat. Just a steaming pile of FUBAR.”
“There are six ways she might have taken out of town. We simply need to narrow it down.”
“And figure out where Marco and his rabble are holed up,” Gavin reminds me.
“Oh, I know that,” Tell chimes in. “My father has them staying at the old retreat my family owns up on Grayson Ridge.”
“And what are they doing?”
“Right now, they’re hiding. Plotting. I think Vice is planning on heading back to L.A. for a bit before he makes a move on Sanctum.”
“How do you know all of that?” Rorshak raises an eyebrow.
“Man of many faces.” Tell grins. He is the master of secrets. Well, except where I’m concerned, but we are in adjacent fields.
“You must be joking. You already infiltrated his crew?” I know he has, yet I can’t help asking.
“Oh, yeah. As soon as I realized who he was, I slipped out and went in to gather intel.” He shrugs.
“Impressive.”
“Not that impressive. His family owns the property they’re staying on.” I love raining on Tyler’s parade.
“Hey! It still took a lot of guts and skill to sneak in unnoticed.”
“So we’ve got SITREP on the enemy. How do we find our renegade queen?”
“Easy.” Tell slides his laptop out of his bag. “I track Rachelle’s phone.”
“And if she’s not with her?”
“Then it eliminates her as a suspect, at least for the time being.” Too many moving parts. Too many loose ends. It’s a start, though.
“Got her, heading North up Ridgeline, toward the pass.”
We all look at each other, a silent vote.
“Do it.” I nod to Gavin. He punches it, gunning the van out along the bypass, leading us North.
All three of us are lost in thought, processing. Anxious.
An hour slips by before Tell hums softly. “So, Hella’s next in line for leadership?”
“Apparently.”
“Like… to be our boss?”
“As far as I know. The Herald, Rachelle, let it slip last night that there are seven heads of the Sinful. Seven bloodlines that inherit the seats.”
“Wait…” Gavin muses. “My dead best friend is giving orders?”
“Yes. Or he was at some point. Maybe his seat is vacant.”
