by Rachel Cade
Praying it didn’t snap off into the lock, she jiggled it and tugged the drawer at the same time.
It opened on a click.
Lyndie giggled a little bit at the success and quickly dug into the drawer to scan the paperwork.
It was some kind of company listed.
A lease.
Not just any lease.
It was one from Langley Realty.
For the antique shop near Lil’ Apple that had been closed for ages. And the other was for the theater.
Mitch owned the theater?
Why would Ashley show it to her then?
Lyndie checked the date of purchase, which was within the last month.
Beneath the paperwork was a set of keys.
Lyndie picked them up.
*
Mitch never saw himself as much of a runner. Hell, in New York, where were you going to run? But out west, there was nothing but space and sunshine. He liked it.
It was so funny because when his Uncle first shipped him here, he hated it. But now he loved it. He’d figured out how to make a life for himself, finally.
He dropped his keys off in the living room and his shoes skid across the ground.
“Mitch Rigetta,” Eduardo smiled, “my favorite gringo. How are you?”
Mitch stared at the eight Mexican bikers draped in his living room. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“Is this prosciutto?” His specialty deli sandwich was getting devoured by a ninth biker coming out of his kitchen.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” he snapped.
Some of his beers were scattered over his coffee table, and among them were Eduardo’s crossed feet.
Mitch could have hit the roof.
“You’re living good out here in the desert, Mitch.” The biker help up the other half of the sandwich before shoving down another bite.
He could have hit the god damned roof, in fact, but he was outnumbered and outgunned.
One of the downsides of living alone.
“I thought you said we were never going to meet face to face.”
“That’s true, I did.” Eduardo pointed the spout of his beer bottle at him. “But circumstances have changed.”
“How so?”
“Death Skulls.”
“I don’t have anything to do with them or why they’re here. They stay on the other side of town.”
“It doesn’t matter, man. The fact that they’re here is a big problem. They think this little shit kicking town belongs to them.”
“What is this a territory war now?” Mitch couldn’t hide his frustration. “I’ve been in a few and they don’t end well.”
“Listen.” Eduardo took his feet off the table. “Death Skulls MC are a… unique batch of outlaws. They haven’t played too friendly with us in the past and it’s not a good idea for our interests to get entwined.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do about that?” he asked.
“When you said you needed to lay low on shipments, we figured it was because of them since they paid us a little visit in Vegas. They got information about our drop they had no business having.”
“That’s unfortunate. Look, I just need a little time to regroup. In the very least, we will set up a new system in the coming weeks so we can continue with business.”
“We’re not going to be able to wait, my friend.”
Mitch frowned.
“But before you get upset, let me explain.” He glanced to the side at his men. “When you work with people, you know that either things will go smoothly or they’ll try to fuck you over. And you can prepare for that. But when you work with cops, there’s the that chance that they’ll fuck you over, then hide behind the badge to fuck you again.”
“A guy we were working with had his truck hijacked by a group of police on the border to California. He snapped a photos of one of the squad cars and guess where it was traced?”
Mitch closed his eyes.
“Now it may very well not be your fault. But they’re your people. So we need money for our pain and suffering. So we don’t have to cause pain and suffering.”
Some of the men laughed as the other guy finished his sandwich.
As if all that wasn’t enough, his phone rang.
“Mr. Rigetta, nice to speak with you.”
It was old man Langley.
“Yeah, hey. What’s up?” Not the normal phrase he’d use, but in the moment, he didn’t know if he was coming or going.
“I know this is short notice, but I need to meet with you today. It’s about the town so it’s important.”
For the love of God.
“What time?”
*
“Nobody got more beer?” Noa asked from behind the bar.
Nobody answered him because they probably weren’t around.
“God damn Nomads,” he mumbled.
Bleed popped in through the front door.
“Whisper didn’t disappear into the night like Batman? Holy shit.”
“Yeah, I guess he’s stickin’ around for a bit. Two questions: where is the beer and what did you turn up?”
“On the old man’s daughter? Last night she was at the sheriff’s place playing house. Odd thing, though, she looks like she banged up her face. Trying to hide it with makeup, but I know a thing or two about bruises.”
“You think something happened with Durand?”
“Doubt it. Why would he take a chance like that?”
Chaos stumbled through the door with two cases of blessed alcohol.
Noa pointed at him. “My man!”
“Yeah, I figured I owed it after you and Whisper gave me some epic stories to steal.”
Noa stood at the bar. “He was lying about a lot of that shit.”
“He said you were lying.”
Noa rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, the cameras are all set up in town. I’ll get into the police station tonight.” He sighed. “It feels good to feel like a criminal again.”
“Outlaw,” Noa corrected. “Tin called this morning. He’s doing alright. His brother’s still kickin’ so he had a chance to talk to ‘em.”
“Tin’s brother. Jeez.”
“He said he’d never go back to the reservation.” Noa took a case of beer from Chaos and set it on the bar.
“We need to make sure the place stays safe while he’s gone. And that he’s got a good stronghold when he gets back.”
“So you’re gonna stay here when it’s all done?” Bleed asked. “With Lyndie and the baby? No more ridin’?”
“Retired Skorpio?” Chaos questioned.
Noa cut his eyes at them both.
“Fuckin’ ball breakers.”
“Seriously, though. The lady you’re with has a baby! You can’t be hoppin’ over the border and getting mixed up with Whisper and all the kind of crazy shit we do with a family. Nomad’s a tribe of one, baby.”
Everyone kept saying the same thing. He didn’t have any kind of response, not even a smart-ass comment. He wasn’t going to give up Lyndie or Max, but at the same time, he couldn’t give up being a Death Skull, either. All this time and he still hadn’t figured out a way to balance it all. Was there even a way to?
His phone rang.
Noa answered it to discover Hugh Langley on the other end.
“I tried to call Mr. Jeffries, but his phone wasn’t in service. He gave me yours a long time ago. He said if anything were to happen to him, you were the one to call. I hope he’s alright.”
“He’s out of town for a short while.”
“I need to meet with you today to discuss the town. It’s important.”
Noa glanced at his friends. “Yeah. What time?”
*
Lyndie had to use the back path between buildings to get to the discreet side entrance of the theater. She had only a short amount of time to get back to the diner and put the keys back in Mitch’s desk.
Her gut told her she needed to check this place out, so she du
g her key into the lock.
It wasn’t lost on her as she quickly entered the dark building that she’d just been here with Ashley.
This place was up for lease on paper, but secretly it was owned by Mitch. Mr. Langley would not be a fan of that news. Lyndie wondered how Ashley planned to get away with it. She only showed her the place to try to throw it in her face that she couldn’t afford it. She was still so happy she kicked her ass. The woman really had it coming.
Lyndie had a small flashlight tucked in her uniform pocket and stepped forward to look around.
Noa wasn’t expecting to see Mitch and Durand outside the remnants of Langley’s home.
All over town, the tarp-covered half-collapsed mansion was visible.
“Glad you gentleman could make it.”
Noa knew he had his own thing going on in public, but Bleed, with his red tattoos and hulking body, could even a seen it all mobster like Mitch at unease.
He made a good choice in bringing him.
“Where’s the old man?” Durand asked.
Noa eyed the sheriff, but didn’t respond.
“I want us all to keep it civil here, please. The last time we were all together, there was quite a bit of drama.”
“I thought this was going to be a one-on-one meeting?” Noa asked.
“Oh really?” Durand was quick to cut in. “What’s he doing here then?”
Langley cleared his throat. It was followed by a little cough. “This arguing. We won’t be doing.”
The old man was in his suit, standing on his own but a little hunched. “We haven’t met. I’m Hugh Langley. And you are?”
He leaned forward with the gentlemanly question but didn’t offer his hand.
“Bleed,” he answered.
Langley’s brows rose. “Well… it’s nice to meet you.”
The Death Skull’s face remained stone.
Langley nodded. “I won’t keep you all long. I wanted us all to meet face to face to settle all this animosity so we can move forward with our business. Boundaries need to be set. So I want you all to state your case. What is it that you want for us to all get along?”
Mitch spoke up first. “Yeah, uh... If you guys know about me, I was raised in New York. I worked out in Reno for a little bit before I came here. I own Route 66 diner, brings in some good business. It’s the main place people in town go to eat. I appreciate Mr. Langley here for letting me get a piece of the action on his town. I just want peace, you know. I’ve seen a lot in my day, been through a lot. I think if we all just go about business, we can thrive in the town.”
“Thank you, Mr. Rigetta. What about you, William?”
Durand didn’t seem like he wanted to be there. “Pretty sure I’ve made all my intentions known.” He shook his head, jaw tight. “I can’t add much to what Mitch said.”
“Okay. Mr…Uh… I’m sorry. Mr. Jeffries didn’t give me your name, only the number.”
“Skorpio,” he answered without missing a beat.
“Mr. Skorpio, then.”
“We’re an MC. Most of the time, people make a lot of assumptions about who we are based on other clubs’ reputations. We live a little differently, but we’re hard workers. We have a code and we don’t hurt civilians. We want to see Amber Falls do better too and we think we can help.”
Will made a face, but quickly flattened it.
“So are we in agreement to stay out of one another’s way?”
“Yeah,” they answered individually.
“Excellent. If there are any issues down the line, we will meet like this again. Transparency to prevent anarchy.” Langley clasped his hands. “In the spirit of that, I’d like your entire crew to my town celebration. It was originally for me, but now it’s a wedding. Between my daughter Ashley and Sheriff Durand. And you are cordially invited.”
This time, Noa raised his brows. “Invitation accepted.”
It seemed like Mitch wasn’t aware of it, and Durand looked a little off.
Noa smiled. “We wouldn’t miss it. Who doesn’t love a good wedding?”
*
Lyndie flicked her flashlight up and down the aisles. She worried flicking the lights on would alert someone outside or set off an alarm maybe. She couldn’t take the chance.
She just hoped no wild animals had snuck in. After a quick check to the lobby and the projection room, there was nowhere else to check but the main theater room. It irritated her that Mitch had this place.
Maybe she was pushing too far to think she could get it.
Lyndie flashed her light behind the aging screen to do a quick check and lowered it.
Then she lifted it again.
Slowly she let the light roam over the cartons similar to the ones she saw in the basement.
There were also other items sitting out in the open stacks of plastic-covered furniture, toys, and all kinds of things.
Jackpot.
*
Cujo sat in the clubhouse with his brothers. They were all Los Bandidos, but they were actual blood too. The only people he could trust right now with the shit he was in.
The air was dense with smoke. The tv was playing Scarface on loop because his youngest brother Rez was obsessed with it.
Cujo barely paid attention. Since the last second he saw that prick Whisper, that fake ass Warlock or whatever he was, he couldn’t get the Death Skulls off his mind.
They thought he was there bitch now. And they’d keep it that way as long as they could.
He’d taken enough beat downs over the years from his father and uncles to know he couldn’t stand to be under any man’s thumb.
Working with the Aztecs was different, it was business and an arrangement that had been going on for years.
“They think they’re smart,” he began blowing smoke out of his nose. He pointed at the small device on his desk. “They stuck this on my bike.”
“A fuckin’ tracker?” Rez picked it up, turning it over in his hand.
“Don’t break it, it’s still on. I want them to think they know where I am.”
“So we’re heading to Nevada then?” Trip had an AK in his lap that he cleaned almost everyday.
“Sheriff Durand needs a little destruction.”
“Just a little?” Rez asked.
Cujo glanced over at his surveillance watching guys emptying a van of scared looking teen girls.
“Yeah,” he answered. “But we’re gonna over deliver.”
“Whisper’s gonna be praying to all the Gods he worships before we’re done.”
Cujo’s mouth lifted. “And it won’t fuckin’ save him. It won’t save any of them.”
Chapter Sixteen:
Boy Scouts
“So old Sheriff Fuckwad is getting hitched,” Bleed spoke as they parked their bikes near his trailer on the old property. “Must be something in the air around here.”
Noa pulled off his helmet.
“And he still doesn’t know about you and Mrs. C.”
Noa shook his head.
“You got a plan about the fallout from all this?” Bleed asked. “I know an easy way we can take care of things, but… I guess that would be complicated if you’re really setting down roots here.”
Noa climbed off his bike. “You trust me, right?”
“You asked me that shit before in Vegas. I already told you yeah. But everything can’t be going on in your head and you not let the rest of us in on it.”
“I gotta work out a few more details. And I promise I’ll share everything. I wouldn’t leave you guys in the dark.” Bleed just sighed a little, but didn’t say anything else about it. He knew everyone’s patience was likely wearing thin. Langley’s little impromptu meeting had been unexpected. The truce had been voiced, but had any of them meant it?
He knew without a doubt Durand had his own agenda and Noa wasn’t sure if his trip had driven any more of a wedge between the sheriff and Mitch. With this wedding coming up, did any of it matter?
“What’s going on with you a
fter all this?” Noa asked, needing the distraction. “You heading back to New Orleans?”
Bleed shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. Wherever I’m needed, you know Tin always lines some shit up.”
“Chaos said he’s going northeast.” Noa set his helmet on the seat. “I’m going to make sure the town stays safe and that everyone gets to ride out of here in one piece. That’s my job right now.”
“You didn’t have to take up the mantle when Tin had to go. I know… it’s not easy…” Bleed’s eyes shifted a little bit before he added, “surviving.”
Noa felt his shoulders tighten up but forced them to relax. He made steady eye contact with the former Marine. “I’m gonna be alright.”
The other man nodded, shifting the subject. “I guess it’ll be interesting getting close to the prospective bride.”
Noa winked. “I know you got it in you.”
“Did he tell you I’m not allowed to meet his wife and child?” Whisper asked flatly as he walked up, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“I wouldn’t either.”
Whisper flipped him off and Bleed gave up a rare chuckle.
“Fearless leader. There’s a man at the gate. Pretty sure it’s someone from in town.”
Noa showed his surprise and went to find out who it was.
He recognized the older man from the pizza shop as he walked up.
“Sir,” Noa began. “How are you?”
Carl Baker seemed a little overwhelmed by the gate. Noa signaled for them to open it.
“I’m okay, thanks,” he spoke over the mechanical gate pulling back.
“Can we help you with something?”
“Yeah.” Carl glanced at his tattoos and at Whisper and Bleed to the left and right of him. “Since you guys have an auto shop up here, I was wondering if you could take a look at my car? I’ve had it for a while, but it could use some new brakes.”
“Sure,” Noa answered, seeing the car parked several yards away. “We can fix it. Just drive it on back.”
Carl nodded. “Thanks.”
Lyndie Hargood-Callas found herself in yet another dilemma.
She escaped the theater’s side entrance without being spotted and made it back to the diner to return the keys before Jeff came back.
