Gary looked.
"How?"
"I used Duck Search."
Randy frowned.
"What kind of search?"
"Internet search."
Dean leaned closer.
"Where did you find this?"
She pointed.
"The signal bounced here."
Gary stared.
Then he looked at his own map.
The locations matched.
"You were right," he said.
Lacy smiled.
Dean pointed toward the screen.
"Let's go."
Five minutes later, Dean rode slowly down the alley.
Lacy sat behind him wearing a helmet that was too large.
Gary followed in his truck.
They reached the storage facility.
Dean parked.
He stared at Unit 14B.
"This is mine."
Lacy looked at the lock.
"That lock is new."
Dean frowned.
"How do you know?"
"The rust around it is darker."
He stared at the lock.
She was right.
Dean called Randy.
"Who rented this?"
"Nobody officially."
"Then somebody's using it."
A young man stepped out from behind the neighboring unit.
He wore a polo shirt and held a clipboard.
He froze.
Dean stared at him.
The man tried to walk away.
"Hey."
He stopped.
Dean approached.
"Who are you?"
"Maintenance."
"Maintenance for who?"
The man hesitated.
Gary stepped forward.
"What's in 14B?"
"Nothing."
Lacy whispered:
"He's lying."
The man looked at her.
"Who is she?"
Dean answered.
"Our scout."
The man laughed nervously.
"Whatever."
Dean took the clipboard from him.
The rental paperwork was inside.
The name listed was the fake Iron Jaws organization.
Gary examined the signature.
"Forgery."
The man ran.
Dean didn't chase him.
Instead he opened the unit.
Inside were three large crates.
Gary photographed everything.
Chrome motorcycle parts.
New packaging.
Shipping labels.
Invoices.
And stacks of documents.
Lacy stared at the labels.
"Those are wrong."
Dean looked at her.
"How?"
"The formatting."
She pointed.
"Those codes were discontinued years ago."
Gary looked at the crates.
"She's right."
Dean's face hardened.
"This is a setup."
Gary nodded.
"Someone wants these parts connected to us."
"Then they'll raid the clubhouse."
"Exactly."
Dean looked around the storage facility.
"Who?"
Gary hesitated.
Then said:
"Preston Grant."
Dean became completely still.
Lacy noticed.
"Who is Preston?"
Dean didn't answer immediately.
He walked outside.
Gary followed.
Lacy came behind them.
Dean stared toward the highway.
"Someone I knew a long time ago."
"Friend?"
Dean gave a humorless laugh.
"Once."
The Man Who Wanted the Block
Preston Grant had grown up in Hawthorne.
His father owned a small hardware store.
Dean's father had repaired motorcycles.
As teenagers, Dean and Preston had been inseparable.
They built engines together.
Raced bicycles.
Skipped school.
Dreamed about the future.
Then their lives divided.
Dean stayed in Hawthorne.
Preston went to college.
He returned years later wearing expensive suits and driving expensive cars.
He bought property.
Then more property.
Then entire blocks.
Now Preston owned construction companies, property management firms, security companies, and investment groups.
He called himself a developer.
People in Hawthorne called him something else.
A man who bought neighborhoods.
Preston's plan was simple.
Buy the block surrounding Hawthorne Park.
Demolish the old businesses.
Build luxury apartments.
A private parking structure.
Restaurants.
Boutiques.
Everything modern.
Everything expensive.
The Iron Jaws clubhouse stood directly in his way.
So did the park.
And The Iron Jaws refused to sell.
For months, Preston had been polite.
Then threatening.
Then strangely quiet.
Now the hidden camera explained the silence.
That afternoon, Dean called an emergency meeting.
Every member of the Iron Jaws attended.
The camera sat inside a plastic evidence bag on the table.
Dean told them everything.
The fake company.
The storage unit.
The forged paperwork.
The hidden surveillance.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Randy slammed his palm onto the table.
"He's trying to frame us."
"Yes."
"Then we deal with him."
Dean shook his head.
"No."
Randy stared.
"Why?"
"Because that's what he wants."
Dean stood.
"He wants us angry."
He pointed toward the evidence.
"He wants us to threaten him."
He pointed toward the clubhouse.
"He wants us to do something stupid."
Then he looked at everyone.
"We're not giving him that."
Lacy sat in the corner.
She had been told she could stay only if she remained quiet.
She was trying.
Mostly.
Gary looked at her.
"You okay?"
She nodded.
Then she raised her hand.
Dean smiled.
"Go ahead."
"What if we make him think he succeeded?"
Everyone looked at her.
Dean leaned forward.
"Explain."
Lacy walked toward the whiteboard.
"If he's watching the clubhouse, then he expects you to behave a certain way."
She drew a rectangle.
"This is the garage."
Then another.
"This is the camera."
"Except we removed it."
She drew an arrow.
"But he doesn't know that."
Dean's eyes narrowed.
Lacy continued.
"We can let him watch something fake."
Gary slowly smiled.
"Decoy."
Lacy nodded.
"Exactly."
Dean looked around the room.
"Everybody understand?"
The Iron Jaws began preparing.
They deliberately left toolboxes open.
They staged loud arguments.
They moved crates around.
They talked about imaginary shipments.
They even placed fake paperwork on a table.
Meanwhile, Gary installed secure cameras that were hardwired and isolated from outside networks.
For three days, nothing happened.
Then, at 3:17 p.m., Gary saw the signal.