3

By early evening, the main hall had become considerably busier. Several members occupied the couches, watching a football game on one of the television screens. Others stood around the bar, drinking beer and arguing over a recent motorcycle race. Music played from the speakers, occasionally drowned out by laughter and loud conversations.

At the far end of the room, Cole Bennett sat at a table with a laptop open in front of him. Known as Saint, he was the club’s treasurer and one of the few members whose idea of an enjoyable afternoon involved spreadsheets and financial reports.

He looked up as Ryder entered. “Ryder. I need you to take a look at something.”

Ryder approached the table. “What is it?”

“The quarterly figures for the transport company. There’s a discrepancy I haven’t been able to account for.”

Ryder pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. “How much?”

“Not enough to bring the whole operation down, but enough to concern me.”

“Then find out where it’s going.”

“I’ve been looking into it and I think someone may have been moving money through one of the smaller accounts.”

Ryder’s expression hardened slightly.

“Who has access?”

“Only a handful of people.”

“Then start with them.”

Cole nodded and turned the laptop towards him. Before Ryder could examine the figures, Mason appeared beside the table.

“There’s a call for you.”

“From?”

“Some guy who says his name is Daniel Whitmore.”

Ryder looked up. The name was familiar. Whitmore had handled some of the legal matters involving the estate years earlier, and he had been present during a few meetings with Thomas Carter. “What does he want?”

“He says it’s about the property.”

Ryder leaned back in his chair. For a moment, nobody spoke. Then he stood. “Where’s the call?”

“Your office.”

Ryder handed the laptop back to Cole and headed towards the staircase. His office occupied the upper floor of the warehouse, overlooking the main hall through a large interior window. It was a spacious room with dark wooden furniture, a leather sofa and a heavy desk positioned in front of the windows overlooking the grounds.

A framed photograph of William Kane stood on a shelf behind the desk.

Ryder entered, closed the door and picked up the telephone. “Whitmore.”

“Ryder. Good evening.”

“Good evening. What's up?”

There was a short pause. “I’ve been trying to reach you regarding the Carter Estate.”

Ryder walked around the desk. “Yeah? What about it?”

“Thomas Carter’s daughter, Amelia, has inherited the property.”

Ryder stopped beside his chair. “Is that so?”

“Yes. She returned to Blackridge today.”

He pulled out the chair and sat down.

“Okay. And?”

“She intends to develop the estate. Apparently, she’s planning a luxury resort, and the warehouse presents a problem.”

Ryder’s expression remained unchanged. “She’s planning to build a resort on the property? Where exactly does she intend to put it?”

“From what I understand, the current architectural plans include the area occupied by the warehouse.”

A humourless smile touched Ryder’s mouth. “Interesting.” he said. 

“Ryder, I thought it would be best to speak with you before the situation escalates. Amelia has instructed me to arrange a meeting with the club’s representatives.”

“Then arrange it.”

“She wants to discuss the club vacating the premises. She’s under the impression that the arrangement between her father and William was temporary.”

“Was it?”

“Not exactly. Your father and Thomas Carter had an understanding. There was never a formal lease, but neither was there an agreement requiring the club to leave after a specified period.”

Ryder glanced towards the photograph on the shelf. “Then I suggest you remind her of that.”

“I intend to explain the legal position. However, I should warn you that she’s determined to proceed with her plans.”

“She can proceed with whatever plans she likes.”

“Ryder—”

“The club isn’t moving.” The statement was final.

Daniel exhaled. “I thought you might say that. I’ll arrange the meeting and get back to you.”

“Good. You do that.”

Ryder ended the call and placed the telephone on the desk. For several seconds, he remained seated as he thought about what Daniel had said.

Thomas Carter had been a good friend to his father. The two men had known each other for years, long before the warehouse became the Iron Vipers’ headquarters. When William had needed somewhere to establish the club after losing their previous premises, Thomas had offered the abandoned building and a portion of the surrounding land. It had been a generous arrangement, and the club had invested heavily in the property since then. They had renovated the warehouse, installed security systems, built the garage and turned the neglected industrial building into a place they could call home. William had died before seeing everything his son would eventually accomplish there, but Ryder had continued building on what his father started, and he wasn’t about to let Thomas Carter’s daughter dismantle it. 

A knock sounded against the door.

“Come in.”

Mason entered, closing the door behind him. “Everything alright?”

Ryder leaned back in his chair. “Carter’s daughter is back.”

Mason’s eyebrows lifted. “That's a surprise. What does she want?”

“To turn the estate into a resort.” he replied, “Apparently she wants to move us out and Whitmore said she’s asking for a meeting?”

Mason pulled out the chair opposite the desk and sat down. “I guess we gotta hear what she has to say before deciding how to handle it.”

Ryder gave him a look. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“She owns the land now, Ryder. You know that. She could make things difficult for us if she decides to take the legal route.”

Ryder leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “Then let her do what the bloody hell she wants. This club has been here for twelve years. My father made an agreement with Thomas, and we’ve upheld our end of it. We've maintained the property, we've invested our money into the building, and we built our lives here. I’m not packing up everything because a woman who hasn’t set foot in Blackridge in years has decided she wants a swimming pool where our garage stands.”

Mason laughed quietly. “Something tells me she’s not going to appreciate that explanation. I'd rather we don't start a war before we’ve even met her.”

Ryder rose from his chair and walked towards the window. Outside, several members were gathered near the motorcycles. One of them revved an engine, earning a shout from another man standing beside the garage.

The grounds were familiar, every corner carrying a memory of the years spent building the club into what it was now. Ryder had buried his father, taken over his responsibilities and fought to keep the Iron Vipers strong. He had no intention of watching someone else decide what happened to the place his family had built.

“Arrange the meeting,” he said finally.

Mason stood. “Anything else?”

“Find out what she’s been doing since she left Blackridge. I want to know who her investors are, who’s backing the resort and how far she’s prepared to go to get what she wants.”

“Consider it done.” Mason opened the door, then paused. “What’s her name again?”

Ryder turned slightly. “Amelia Carter.”

Mason nodded and left but Ryder remained by the window, his attention fixed on the estate beyond the clubhouse grounds. Somewhere across the property stood the old Carter residence, its lights probably burning for the first time in months.

Carter’s daughter had returned, and judging by the message from her lawyer, she was already making demands. Ryder picked up his glass from the desk and took a slow drink.

She was welcome to try, but the Carter Estate had been home long before Amelia Carter decided she wanted to turn it into a holiday destination.

And he wasn’t going anywhere.