Chapter 1 - The Signal
“Lena…I’m still here.”
Her brother’s distorted voice came from inside the motorcycle helmet.
The clubhouse went silent.
Seconds earlier, Mason had tipped the memorial table onto its side, sending flowers sliding across the wooden floor. The helmet rolled away unharmed, activating a compact radio secured beneath its lining.
A green light blinked.
Lena froze.
For six weeks, Mason had told everyone her brother Luke was dead.
No body had been recovered.
No funeral home had confirmed his death.
But Mason held a memorial anyway.
He stood beneath framed photographs, accepted condolences and called Luke a reckless rider who had finally run out of luck.
Now Luke’s voice filled the room.
Mason crouched beside the helmet.
“That recording is old.”
Lena grabbed the strap first and pulled it toward herself.
The signal indicator continued flashing.
“It was sent tonight.”
Club members slowly turned toward Mason.
He had led the Iron Ridge Motorcycle Club for twelve years. He owned the largest house, wore the newest custom leather and reminded younger members that loyalty meant never questioning the president in public.
Lena looked beneath the helmet.
Fresh red Texas clay marked the lower shell.
The clubhouse manager, Walt, noticed the same clay on Mason’s boots.
The radio crackled again.
“Under the old garage…”
Mason looked instantly toward the steel service door.
Lena saw it.
So did Walt.
A weak engine vibration began beneath the floor. Bottles trembled on the bar without falling.
Lena rose with the helmet held against her chest.
“You said that garage was empty.”
Mason backed toward the steel door.
The handle moved slightly from the other side.
His face turned pale.
May you like
Then Luke’s voice returned through the radio.
“Don’t let Mason open it first.”
