Third Street.
Of course.
Harmon Development had been quietly purchasing property along Third Street for eighteen months.
Warehouses.
Old duplexes.
A tire shop.
A laundromat.
Three apartment buildings.
A Mexican bakery.
An abandoned furniture warehouse.
Everything except one parcel.
The Desert Kings clubhouse.
Harmon had made three offers.
The first had been generous.
The second ridiculous.
The third came with a representative who smiled too much and spoke as if the sale were already decided.
Marcus had refused every one.
The clubhouse was not simply a building.
The Desert Kings had purchased it seventeen years earlier when the area was considered worthless.
They had rebuilt the garage themselves.
Members had been married in the courtyard.
Children had grown up there.
Funerals had been held there.
Names of dead brothers were carved into a wooden beam inside the main room.
Marcus would have sold his own house before selling that building.
Flash continued.
"Anthony Breslin is the CEO's son."
"Charles Breslin."
"Yeah."
Snake leaned over.
"You're kidding."
Flash shook his head.
"There's more."
He pulled up a city planning document.
"Harmon filed revised plans three months ago for a twelve-building luxury residential complex."
Marcus studied the map.
Their clubhouse was directly in the center.
"Without our parcel, they can't build the main entrance."
"Exactly."
Diesel crossed his arms.
"So they went from buying the building to killing you."
Marcus stared at the screen.
"We don't know that yet."
Snake pointed toward the damaged Harley outside.
"What part's unclear?"
"We know Anthony worked on my bike."
Marcus looked around the table.
"We don't know who told him to."
Flash nodded.
"Good distinction."
Snake did not look convinced.
Marcus continued.
"And if we're going to survive whatever this is, we stop talking like guys in a bar and start thinking like people who want a jury to believe us."
That silenced them.
Across the diner, Sophie was drawing on a paper placemat.
Elena was on the phone.
Her expression changed.
Marcus noticed immediately.
She lowered the phone slowly.
"What happened?"
Elena looked at him.
"My landlord."
"Problem?"
Her face had drained of color.
"He said the building was sold."
Marcus stood.
"When?"
"This morning."
"To who?"
She already knew the answer.
"Harmon Residential."
Nobody at the table spoke.
Elena continued.
"They're terminating all month-to-month leases."
"Yours is month-to-month?"
"Everyone's."
"How many units?"
"Sixty-two."
Flash looked at Marcus.
Marcus asked, "Notice period?"
"Thirty days."
Sophie looked up from her pancakes.
"Are we moving?"
Elena immediately forced calm into her face.
"We'll talk about it later."
"Why?"
"It's grown-up stuff."
Sophie stared at her mother.
Children always knew when grown-ups were lying about fear.
Marcus pulled out a chair.
"Sit down."
Elena shook her head.
"I need to go home."
"Sit."
Something in his tone was commanding without being rude.
Elena sat.
Marcus asked, "Had Harmon been negotiating with the owner before today?"
"I don't know."
"Any rumors?"
"People said somebody wanted the building."
"Why would the landlord call you specifically?"
Elena swallowed.
"He said because I was listed as the tenant representative."
"Representative?"