The Clubhouse Widow

My husband died on a Diablos run and the club gave me a mortgage, a plot in the back cemetery, and a chair at every table where they decided my life. Then Sable stood up in front of the whole room and called me a thief. I left the clubhouse that night with my daughter and a duffel bag. I didn't tell them about Mara then. I never got the chance. Now I work the graveyard shift at a truck stop outside Elko and I don't answer questions about the past. But the man who rode behind Rico the night he died just pulled into my lot in a Silver Diablo pickup, and he's holding an envelope I recognize — because I've been getting them for four years, and I finally know who's been sending them. He wants me back at the table. He wants a life with the daughter he's never been allowed to hold. First, he's going to clear my name in front of the same people who called me a thief. Then we'll talk.