My gaze lands on Rooster. Instead of a yes or no, he holds up his hand, halting the vote. After all his earlier comments, he’s not who I expected to vote this down.

I hide my irritation and nod, giving him the floor to speak. Rooster’s got brass ones and doesn’t shrink under the scrutiny.

He stands and looks around the table. “I wasn’t going to bring this up until I had more information, but something else needs to be discussed before we continue with this vote.”

He swallows hard and looks my way.

“Go on,” I encourage. Now I’m curious.

“I’ve been gathering proof…some records, video, shit like that. I think Shadow was involved with Sway’s shooting and I think he set us up to get ambushed the night Malone’s burned down.”

Well, now I understand why Rooster wasn’t ready to bring this to the table until he was one hundred percent sure. Two serious accusations. He could be kicked out of the club if he accused a member of this level of betrayal without proof.

Hustler sits forward. “What do you have?”

“His toll records. His real ones. He wasn’t using the club-issued EZ Pass. He’s been using another one registered to his wife.”

“His who?” Murphy asks.

“He’s got a citizen wife on the outside,” Jigsaw explains. “None of us really know her that well.”

Figures.

“She’s his tie to the Vipers,” Rooster says. “Her brother is a prospect.”

Jesus Christ, what’s Sway been doing at the head of this table for the last few years, napping? “How did none of you know this?”

Steer raises his hand. “Like Jiggy said, half of us have never even met her. Shit, the way he plows through clubwhores, I didn’t even realize he had a gal on the outside until Rooster and I dug into him when Sway nominated him for VP.”

Yeah, ‘cause where a guy sticks his dick is proof he’s fit to be an officer. Jesus Christ.

“All right. What’s the big deal about his toll records?”

Rooster pulls a folder out from under the table and sifts through a few papers. “He’s made a lot of trips down to New Jersey over the last few months.” He looks around the table. “We all know we don’t conduct business in Viper territory. There’s no reason for Shadow to make so many trips down there.”

Someone whistles. A few what the fucks are muttered.

“Maybe it’s his old lady?” Smoke suggests.

“Could be,” Rooster concedes. “Still,” he glances my way and down toward Murphy and Teller. “Any of you let your girls go into Viper territory when they held down Ironworks?”

“Fuck no,” Teller says.

Rooster’s pained eyes meet mine. “I finally tracked down the person who rented the black Cadillac.” He tosses a grainy black and white photo down the table toward me.