Chapter 45

Deke Devine’s Winnebago squeaked to a stop at the end of my block just as promised, and Serenity and I stepped through the side door into the cramped RV. Deke sat behind the wheel, and his face darkened when he saw Serenity climb the steps.

“You were supposed to come alone!” he snapped.

“I’m not walking into a meeting with any Double Eagles—or their families—alone. You’re lucky I didn’t bring my main security team.”

“Get somebody else,” said his mother from our left. “Not her.”

Nita Devine stood in the narrow aisle of the RV, clinging to a handle above her head to maintain balance.

“Mrs. Devine,” I said evenly, “the federal government—including the Justice Department—is staffed with thousands of black employees. If you plan to cut a deal to save your family with witness protection, you’d better get used to black faces.”

She chewed her lower lip for several seconds. Then she said, “Get moving, Deke. Head for the bypass.”

As the RV lurched forward, Nita steadied herself, then squeezed herself into the space between a leatherette bench and a removable table attached to a post stuck into the floor.

“Well, sit down,” she said. “Let’s get to it. They’ll get suspicious if I don’t get back quick.”

“Who will?” I asked.

“Those motorcycle gangsters. They’re watching our house again. All the Eagles’ houses. They switch up.”

“Your husband is at home?”

She nodded. “My other son’s with him. You met him.”

We pulled two small plastic chairs from the “den” of the RV up to the little table. Nita Devine took a pack of cigarettes from her purse and lit one without asking if we minded. Her hands shook, and her eyes held more emotions than I could separate—chief among them desperation.

“You told me the government would give Will a good deal. That they could keep him safe. Keep us all safe.”

“I’m reasonably sure of that, yes. But it always depends on the information the witness can provide.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Will knows everything. About the Double Eagles, I mean. He was there from the beginning. Or almost the beginning.”

“He saw them kill people?”

A bitter laugh comes from her throat. “He still has nightmares to this day. The older he gets, the worse they get.”

Serenity holds up her hand and says, “Why is your husband suddenly willing to talk after all these years?”