by Evie Nichole
We drove for a couple of hours, and when we saw the barn on the hill, surrounded by trees, looking idyllic in the sun, we started to believe that our place might actually work. Teller stirred just once during the drive, so I dosed him again. He was snoring, resting on my shoulder in the back. Charles found that hilarious.
Maxine opened the barn doors and came running out to us. “You made it! I was so worried!” She ran over to me and kissed me, I held her in my arms for a moment. She felt so good.
“It was a close call, we got rumbled, but managed to get him. Now Drake will know someone’s taken Teller, most probably suspecting me,” I said, opening the back door of the car and stretching my legs. “Let’s drive the car inside and close up shop.”
We did just that. The barn was a great hiding place. It wasn’t on a highway, nor was it near a town so kids would come by looking for an adventure. It was somewhere I’d crashed before, several times in fact. The red paint had mostly faded on the inside, and the farmhouse which must have accompanied the barn had long since given in to the elements. The barn itself, however, was in pretty good shape.
We placed Teller on a wooden chair in the middle of the barn, and tied his legs and arms to it. Then I had the absolute pleasure of throwing a bucket of cold water over him to wake him up.
“Hey!” he shouted, spitting water out of his mouth. When he woke up properly, he looked shocked. “Josh, you’re supposed to be dead, you little shit.”
“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,” I said, throwing some more water over him.
“Okay, okay! Stop it! What do you want?” Teller was getting straight down to business.
He had no spine and I knew he’d give up anything we wanted if he thought I was going to hurt him.
“You remember the name Daniel Sturgeon?” I asked.
“Yeah… Just, let me go and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“Okay, but if you’re lying then my friend in the bow tie over there is going to get the blow torch in the back of his car, okay?” I nodded towards Charles, and he nodded back, fixing his bow tie like some sort of eccentric expert torturer.
That was enough to push Teller’s mouth into overdrive. “Yeah, okay, okay, Daniel Sturgeon, three years ago just outside of Kelso Town?”
“That’s the one,” Charles replied for me.
“Wh… What do you want to know?” asked Teller.
“I want to know what we were doing on the road that night, and what Drake pulled out of Daniel’s car.”
“Drake will kill me…”
“Only if we don’t do it first.”
Teller looked at Charles again, who was smiling, getting into character almost too much.
“Drake’s in trouble, Josh. Big trouble. He’s been hiding a gambling problem for decades. He owes millions to the mob, and if he doesn’t pay it they’re going to whack him.”
“What does this have to do with Daniel?” Maxine asked, clearly nervous of the answer.
“Daniel Sturgeon found a substantial amount of money which Drake believed belonged to him. Enough money to pay off Drake’s debts so that he wouldn’t have to keep doing all the shitty jobs he’s been carrying out for organized crime. They’ve held his debts over him for over 30 years, able to get what they want. That money was always going to be his way out, he’s been looking for it for decades, and suddenly Daniel Sturgeon got his hands on it.”
“My heart bleeds. Where’d the money come from?” I asked.
“Can you loosen my hands?” Teller asked.
Maxine stepped forward, but I touched her on the shoulder gently, intimating that she shouldn’t make him more comfortable.
“Only once we know everything, Teller. Agreed?” I was growing impatient.
“Okay… Okay… It all goes back to a guy called Sanchez. He was like a father to Drake, his ran out on him when he was a kid. Sanchez ran a gang called the High Tide Goblins back in the day. Drake, even at just 20 years old, had already racked up impressive gambling debts. He was getting desperate. One night, Sanchez gets drunk, he starts going on about the future, that he’d want to pass the gang down to Drake if he wanted it.
“Drake was ecstatic. He asked when, and Sanchez told him in a couple of years. Sanchez was tired of life on the road, he was nearly 60, and so he wanted to retire. As Sanchez got drunker, he talked about his plans to buy a farm, a place he’d always wanted to live, but the price was at least 4 million for the land. So, he’d been saving for years, and had easily enough to buy the house with plenty left over to enjoy himself. When he thought Drake was ready, he’d hand the gang over to him.”
“But Drake wanted the money?” said Maxine.
Teller looked at her. “Exactly.”
“So what did he do?” Charles looked fascinated.
“Drake confessed that night to Sanchez about his gambling debts, and asked if he could ‘borrow’ money to pay them off. Sanchez refused, and so Drake got angry. I mean Sanchez had acted like he was a son to him, but when it came to parting with his cash he looked the other way. Drake was furious and when they were alone he beat Sanchez to death with broken bottle and his bare hands.”
“Christ,” said Charles.
“You don’t fuck with Drake, people didn’t know that then, but they knew that after.” Teller shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his hands still tied tightly behind his back. “Anyway, Drake tried to get the location of the money out of Sanchez before he died. I mean, there was no way it was in a bank, the IRS would ask too many questions. So it had to be somewhere, a hiding place. Just as Sanchez lost consciousness for the last time, he said something about it being ‘in the rip bay.’ Unfortunately, Drake couldn’t get him to wake up after that. He died.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Drake, killing someone who’d looked out for him,” I said out loud without thinking.
“Oh, he felt bad about it, so much so that he named his new gang after the rip bay, but he never found out where it was. Never. Over the years his debts have mounted up and the only way he could keep the mob off his back was to keep taking jobs, and in his spare time he’s had his Night Riders looking at various bays around the east coast. He’s obsessed by it, sees it as his ticket out, but there’s more to it than that, he thinks it’s his inheritance, like a connection to Sanchez or something. I keep tellin’ him though, there ain’t no such place. No one’s ever heard of a ‘rip bay,’ and even if they did, how the hell would you know where to search for the money?
“But, Drake keeps looking, and recently things have gotten more desperate…”
“Why, what’s happened?” Charles interjected.
“Drake’s broke. Well and truly. The gang is running on fumes, and he’s gambled away what he had stashed. Now, his debts are so big there’s no number of jobs which will save his neck. He needs 2 million, or he’s dead.” Tyler squirmed in his chair. “There’s rumors the mafia are taking a hit out on him… And that’s all I know… I swear.”
Tyler wasn’t like Pit. He wasn’t cut out for persuasion. I believed he’d told us everything we needed, everything except one last thing.
“But why was Daniel targeted, and what did Drake take from the backseat of his car?” I asked, one last time.
“Drake caught wind that a few things had ended up on the black market. Trophies of sorts, jewelry, that sort of stuff. One piece in particular got offered to one of our men. It was a gun, an old six shooter with encrusted diamonds. Everyone knew what it was. Back when Sanchez was younger he used to carry it with him, had his name engraved on it and everything, but when the High Tide Goblins got bigger, the gun became just another reason for Sanchez to be thrown in jail if a cop ever searched him, he said he stashed it, along with a few other things.
“When Sanchez was buried, Drake looked through all of his belongings and never found that gun, so you can understand his surprised when he was told someone was selling it. Drake put two and two together and suspected – whoever was selling Sanchez’s
old trophies must have found the stash. A little bit of snooping and we traced it back to your boy, Daniel Sturgeon.
“Drake offered to buy the pieces, but the asking price was huge. In the end, another biker gang which split from the High Tide Goblins offered more. The night your boy died, Drake knew Daniel was going to meet someone at 3AM and carry out the deal, so he thought he’d get there first.
“Well, you know Drake. Gets carried away sometimes. Just look at what’s happened to number of our own who have crossed him. Anyways, I’m sure he set out to take the gun back that night and find out where the rest of Sanchez’s stash was, but… Well… Daniel ran off the road, he died, and the only thing Drake could take was the gun.”
There was a silence. I looked at Josh, my eyes filling up with tears. It had all been laid out for us. The truth about Daniel’s involvement had finally been revealed. Josh rushed over to comfort me, but I told him I was okay.
In some ways I was actually relieved. Daniel wasn’t a member of the gang, he hadn’t done anything reprehensible. He’d somehow found Sanchez’s legendary stash in the rip bay, and was selling it to interested party. Pieces of biker history, Americana of the highest order, given to the highest bidder. I didn’t understand why he would have done that, though. I mean, we were well off. Everything was going great for us financially. A few more years of the same and we’d never of had to worry about money ever again. Yet, for some reason, Daniel had been raising cash. Drake wanted the items, and so he ran us off the road. Daniel must have been planning on taking the gun to the winning bidder once I’d fallen asleep.
That part made sense. He didn’t want to drink when we were at Al’s party before the accident. He said he had important business to take care of; I just assumed that the business was legitimate and not dealing with vicious thugs.
I was confused.
Josh believed that Teller had told us everything he knew, so we cut him loose. I was terrified that he would run and tell Drake everything, but as Josh said, “What other choice do we have? We’re not like Drake, if he were in our shoes he would just have killed Teller…”
“I didn’t mean that…”
“I know you didn’t, Baby. But trust me, it’s easy to fall down that slippery slope and make a bad decision. Take a left when you should have taken a right.”
Baby, that was the first time he’d used a pet name for me. I liked it. I was sure that if we both made it out of this alive, I’d find one for him that he’d find equally as endearing.
“I hate to break up this romantic moment, but shouldn’t we get out of here before Teller returns with Drake and his men?” Charles asked, being the sensible one as usual.
“Yeah, Chuck. You and Maxine ride in your car, follow me,” Josh said.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. Need time to think about our next move, somewhere we can lie low for the night,” Josh replied.
“Might I suggest something?” asked Charles.
“Of course, Chuck.” I smiled at him.
“It seems to me that this Drake fellow is in dire straights. His only escape is to find the rest of Sanchez’s stash, which we, I’m sure, have the key to,” Charles looked happy with himself as if he was concocting a great plan in that book filled brain of his.
“Yeah, we have a key to a bike fuel cap which Daniel found somehow, but we have no idea where the damned bike is!” Josh seemed frustrated.
“But we have a secret weapon which might help us…” said Charles, opening the door to his car.
“Oh?” said Josh.
“Yes,” Charles continued. “One old Harry.”
“The guy you said used to ride with Sanchez before the Rip Bay Hornets?” I asked, enthused.
“Yes, Maxine. The very same. He gave us some great information about the history of the Rip Bay Hornets, and was a personal friend of Sanchez’s. Now that we know what Drake is looking for, perhaps he could tell us more?”
“Let’s do it! You lead the way, Chuck!” Josh seemed genuinely excited, and within minutes we were on the road, me and Charles in the car, Josh following on his bike.
It took us less than a few hours to get there, and hopefully that put enough distance between ourselves and the barn to keep us away from Drake and his men… For a while. Eventually, Charles turned into a town I’d never heard of, and pulled up outside of an old folks home.
“Seriously?” I said.
“What? Oh… The nursing home. Yes, this is where old Harry lives. He’s seen better days I’m afraid, but he’s still sharp as a nail. Come on, let’s talk with him.”
Once Josh was parked alongside us, we walked into the nursing home. As far as rest homes go, it wasn’t all that bad. The air still had that sting to it which such places do, but the rooms were nice and bright, and the staff seemed just as warm and friendly. A few of the nurses said hello to Charles as they passed. I realized then that he must have been there countless times trying to get information about old biker gangs for his books. Old Harry must have been quite the resource.
When we finally reached old Harry’s room, I was shocked by what I saw. I guess part of me assumed that an old biker would still have that strong edge to him, rough and ready, but Harry was in bed, thin in the face, and in some pain after having a fall a week earlier.
“Damn nurses don’t know what they’re doing,” he said as we approached his bed.
“Now, now, Harry, they’re doing their best. How you feeling?” Charles asked.
“Well, I have to get help to take a piss, my hip feels like someone hit it with a sledge hammer, and to tell you the truth…” He looked around to see if anyone else was listening, then cupped his hand around his mouth and whispered. “I think they’re trying to poison me…” He then winked at me. “Sit down young lady, talk to old Harry.”
I liked him immediately. His body might have seen better days, but he had the type of sarcastic humor which I was sure made him a pleasure for those who knew him and an annoyance for those who didn’t.
Charles explained to Harry why we were there, and as he did so, Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off of Josh.
“So, my boy. You want out, eh?” Harry said, smiling.
“Yeah… I do…”
“It’s tough, but you know, I did it. I got out eventually. ‘Course I wasn’t in a gang as dangerous as the Hornets, no, but if keep your chin up. There’s always a better day out there for you,” said Harry.
“I don’t know if it’s going to be that easy,” Josh said, and for the first time I felt defeat in his voice.
“Son, let me tell you something. Life will kick you when you’re down the second it smells weakness. Sure, things might be bad right now, but no matter what you always gotta have hope. Take me for example. You think I’m gonna lie in this bed for the rest of my days?”
None of us said anything as it appeared that was a possibility.
“Hell no!” Harry said loudly. “One day, I’m going to walk out of this room into the sunshine outside, across the courtyard, and have dinner with Miss Jenny Casablanca. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. She’s waiting for me, and when that day comes, I’m going to be happy knowing that I had a win that day. That things did indeed get better. It’ll happen for you too.”
Everyone was taken with Harry. He held court like an old kind, but when we finally got down to finding out about Sanchez’s stash, we were utterly disappointed.
“I can’t say I ever heard of a rip bay. Never knew Sanchez even talked about it. He rarely said much, except when he was drunk sometimes,” said Harry.
“Is there nothing at all you can think of, Harry?” Josh asked desperately.
“I’m sorry, kid, if I were you I’d take this sweet little girl here to another country far away from the Hornets. Marry her, have lots of kids, and always keep one eye looking over your shoulder.”
That was exactly what I wanted to avoid, and I knew Josh did too. We wanted to be free of all this to live our lives, and the
only way to do that was to get our hands on Sanchez’s stash so that we could buy our freedom from Drake’s horrid grasp.
Then, a thought sprung in my mind. Daniel had found Sanchez’s stash somehow, but where? I could only think of our hometown.
“Harry,” I said gently. “Did Sanchez ever visit Kelso Town?”
Harry’s eyes lit up. “Yes, he did, dear, every year, how did you know?”
Josh seemed to suddenly catch on, becoming animated. “Where?”
Harry pulled himself up in his bed slightly, wincing partially at the pain in his hip. “There’s an old vault in the Kelso town cemetery. He said it was the burial place of an old flame. Can’t remember the name of the girl, but the vault’s got a cherub angel on the front of it with a real strange face, made outta some sort of stone.”
Josh almost leaped for joy. “I’ve got it!”
We said our goodbyes to old Harry. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and he went red. “Tell Jenny Casablanca we think her man’s a cutie when you see her.”
Rushing out to the car in front of the building, Josh grabbed me in his arms and lifted me up laughing. We spun around as we kissed.
Charles caught up with us, panting. “Could someone please explain what’s so exciting? I mean… I sort of get the possibility that Sanchez’s stash is in that vault in Kelso cemetery, but let’s not get carried away until we know for sure…”
“Chuck! Don’t be such a stick in the mud. It’s where it is. Don’t you get it. Rip Bay. Rest in Peace Bay. It’s a code. Rest in Peace is associated with cemeteries and Bay as in ‘parking bay.’ The damned bike is in that tomb, Sanchez’s old flame. Daniel had the key to the fuel cap, where Sanchez must have stuffed all his cash!”
I was dizzy from being spun around and with delight. All we had to do was go to Kelso cemetery, get into the vault somehow, and then grab all the cash. Then we’d have leverage over Drake and could get out this entire mess!
