by Evelyn Glass
“The dog.”
“His name is Harley?”
“It is now.”
“Why Harley?” she asked as they made their way to Beast’s hog.
“Don’t you think he looks like a Harley? I do.”
Shayna giggled. “You know, now that you mention it, he does.”
***
They pulled to a stop in the parking lot outside the clinic. The clinic is one of three businesses in a small strip mall, none of which were open, but there was a single car parked in front of the Lowerence clinic.
“I wonder if someone is here?” Shayna asked as she stepped off the bike and removed her helmet.
“Only one way to find out,” Beast said as he pulled the shirt out of the bag, a battered and faded t-shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on the back that he knocked around the house in.
She tried the door. It was locked, but she opened it with the key. The alarm was already disarmed, so she tucked the code back into her purse. “Anyone here?”
“Back here!” a woman’s voice returned to them.
Beast and Shayna made their way into the back of the clinic. “Dr. Shephard, Pete said you might stop by.”
“Darcy, please, call me Shayna. Conor brought a shirt for Harley.”
“Harley? That’s his name now? I’ve been calling him Jimmy.”
“Why Jimmy?” Shayna asked.
“Because Mandy found him out where she lives, off Jimmy Durante Boulevard.” She looked at Beast. “But since you and him have kind of bonded, I guess you should get to name him.” Darcy smiled. “Harley it is. But will you see if you can get him to eat again? He still won’t have anything to do with me, the little shit.”
Beast laughed, stepping up to Harley’s kennel. “Hey, Harley. Remember me?” It took some coaxing, and a biscuit, but Harley finally came to Beast. “You hungry?” Beast asked the dog as he held him. “Somebody give me whatever it is he’s supposed to eat.”
As Shayna held the can, Beast scooped food out and offered it to the dog. “Now you,” he said to Shayna after the can was half-empty. Shayna scooped some out, and Beast held her hand as she offered it to Harley. At first she didn’t think the dog would take the food, his eyes rolling in fear as she reached out to him, but Beast continued to hold her hand and after a moment, Harley began to take the food. It took three more tries before Harley would take it from Shayna without Beast holding her hand. When he did, Shayna whimpered softly, her eyes filling with tears. She knew then that Harley was going to make it.
“Now you,” Beast said.
Darcy stepped forward and scooped food into her hand. Beast held her hand like he did with Shayna. Harley looked at her a moment then took the food. She reached in the can, scooping out the remainder and Harley took it without protest.
Shayna had another can of food waiting, dumping it into a small bowl. Beast took the bowl, holding it until Harley began to eat. He didn’t eat much, but that wasn’t surprising as his stomach was already pooching out.
Holding Harley in one hand, Beast tossed the t-shirt into the cage, then lay Harley down on it. The dog got up and came back to him immediately. Beast picked him up, nuzzled him a moment then put him back in the cage, holding him until the dog lay down on the shirt. He slid the still almost full bowl of food into the cage and continued to scratch and talk to Harley until the dog began to fall asleep.
“You have the touch,” Darcy said, her admiration clear in her voice. “I thought Harley was a goner.”
“Nah,” Beast said as he slowly closed the door as Harley lost his battle with sleep. “He just needed somebody to understand him.”
“And that’s you?”
He shrugged. “Looks like.”
Darcy smiled. “Since you’re here, you want to stay and help with the rest of these guys? Maybe you can do some of that dog whisper stuff on them and make them hurry up and go to the bathroom so I can get out of here.”
Beat laughed. “Sure. I guess…uh-oh,” he said as his phone began to ring. It was the ringtone for DR Security. “Work. This can’t be good,” he said to Shayna as he pulled his phone out.
“Beast. Yeah? You’re shitting me! Anyone hurt? Fuck! Meet me at the office. As quick as I can get there. Yeah, I’m rolling now.” He hung up the phone. “Shit! I have to go. Sorry, Darcy, maybe another time,” he said as he turned, took Shayna by the elbow, and steered her out of the office.
“What’s going on?” she asked as he hustled her out to the bike.
“Problems. I’ll drop you at the casino. You can catch a cab from there,” he said as he stood the big bike upright and made ready to ride.
“If it’s that big of a problem, just take me with you.”
“Shayna, I don’t know how long it will be.”
“I’ll wait. If not, you have a car or something that can take me home, right?”
He thought it over as the bike barked to life. “Okay. Hang on. I need to haul ass,” he said before he revved the bike and roared out of the parking lot.
***
“Rach, take care of Shayna,” Beast ordered as they strode into the DR Security offices.
“Hightower, what’s going on?” Beast asked as Rachel led Shayna away.
“It’s The Scarred. They took a swipe at the Argentines.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No. It was handguns, and they were already on the motorway. They rode up, took a few shots, then gave the bikes the Welly and disappeared. The Argentines are brassed off about it, too. I’ve kept the extra security on them until we can get them on the plane. We’re losing our ass on this job.”
“And you know it’s The Scarred?”
“Yes. They weren’t wearing their colors, but Hickman spotted Grizzly.”
“He’s sure?”
“Sure as he can be considering he was busy legging after they started shooting.”
Beast scrubbed at his hair with his nails. Something wasn’t adding up. “What the hell are they up to? This makes no sense! I bet they’re the ones who tossed the hotel rooms, too.”
“Probably.”
“But why?”
“I’m gormless,” Hightower said. “I can’t get my mind around what they may be up to.”
Beast sat down and Hightower followed suit. “Let’s think about this. What would The Scarred have to gain from taking potshot at the Argentines?”
“To slag off DRS?”
Beast shook his head. “Maybe, if they’d actually gotten to them. But we’re fucking heroes now. That doesn’t feel right. Does it to you?”
Hightower shook his head. “No, not really.”
“How about a distraction? Maybe a misdirection? They want us looking at the Argentines to keep us from looking somewhere else?” Beast suggested.
“Okay, but the Argentines are our only clients until Friday. They leave in the morning. What could they be doing on a Sunday that we would be interested in? And why toss the room?”
“Fuck,” Beast muttered. “We’re missing something. But what?”
“Bugger if I know. Maybe The Scarred are hired muscle for something else?”
Beast nodded. “Maybe, but who? And why?”
Hightower grinned. “Why are you asking me all these questions? I’m not Nostradamus, you know.”
Beat smiled as he shook his head. “I know. I wish you were. I could use the help right now.” He was quiet a moment, trying to piece together the puzzle, but finally realized he didn’t have all the pieces. “Let’s call Skellon and ask him what the fuck he’s doing.”
“Just ring up the President of The Scarred and ask him why he is taking shots at our clients? You must be mad.”
“Why? What’s the worse that will happen other than he’ll tell me to go fuck myself.”
Hightower raised an eyebrow. “You have his number on speed dial?”
Beast laughed. “No. But I bet it’s on file around here somewhere.”
***
Shayna had never been in a motorcycle clubhous
e before, but she didn’t think the Desert Reapers clubhouse was typical.
When they arrived at the compound, Beast quickly typed in a number on the keypad that started the intimidating gate rolling aside. The compound was composed of two adjoined buildings. The larger of the two looked like a small warehouse with an office on the front and a large DR Security logo. It looked like any other small industrial building, and this was the building Beast stopped in front of.
The office portion was like any modern office. They passed through the empty lobby with the unmanned reception desk and entered the back part of the office. They passed a large conference room with an oak table and leather chairs, and an attractive woman wearing a wireless headset while flipping through a magazine at her desk. She nodded to Beast as they passed. When Beast called her, Rachel left her desk, her headset still on, and took charge of her.
“Right this way, Shayna,” Rachel said, leading Shayna away from Beast and the other man. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, no thank you.”
“Would you like a tour?”
She smiled. “You don’t have to do that. Just show me where to sit.”
Rachel grinned. “To be honest, I would enjoy the excuse to get up. Duty on the phone sucks.”
“In that case, I would love a tour.”
“Great! Right this way, then.”
It took almost an hour for Rachel to complete the tour, and Shayna was impressed. Rachel showed her the two conference rooms with the state of the art video conferencing equipment, the computer room where the servers that ran the Desert Reapers Empire resided, and the offices for the various administrative functions.
Finished with the office, Rachel led her into the warehouse where three white Mercedes sat in a row. Two of them were obviously worse for wear with shattered glass and several holes in the otherwise pristine white sheet metal. She wondered how the cars got so dinged up then remembered that Beast had said the cars were bulletproof, and she got a chill when she realized what had probably happened to the cars. She wanted to ask about it, but held her tongue.
The garage also contained a couple of nondescript SUVs and a van, also white, along with at least a dozen motorcycles, all Harleys. The rest of the large room was taken up with a car lift, large toolboxes, and what appeared to be an automated car wash.
“Would you like to see the clubhouse?” Rachel asked.
“Can you leave the office?” Shayna asked with a pointed look at the headset and mic.
“Oh sure. There is a complete wireless phone system in both buildings. The phones will work anywhere in the compound. This way.”
***
“Jack, this is Beast Boyd.”
“What do you want, Beast?” Jack rumbled through the speaker on the desk phone. He didn’t sound pleased.
“I have some questions and I need some answers.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Questions like, why did your boys try to grease one of our clients today?”
“You’re full of shit! We didn’t hit anybody. If we had you wouldn’t be saying we tried, you would be saying we did. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Boyd, but it isn’t going to fly with me.”
“No game. We had a positive ID on Grizzly.”
“Yeah, well, you’re wrong.”
“We’re not wrong, Jack. In case you’ve forgotten, Grizzly isn’t exactly popular around here. We know him when we see him. So I’m going to ask you again. What the fuck is going on?”
“And I’m going to tell you again, it wasn’t a club sanctioned hit. Why would it be? For five years we’ve kept the peace and it has been good for both of us. Why would we fuck that up now? Who was it we were supposed to have hit?”
“Some government officials from Argentina.”
“Why the fuck would we do that?” Jack growled. “There’s nothing in it for us. Your guy is either lying or wrong.”
Beast looked at Hightower who was shaking his head. “No mistake, Jack. You better get a handle on your men before we have to take matters into our own hands.”
“Don’t threaten me, boy,” Jack rumbled. “Just because we’ve stopped carving each other up doesn’t mean you can threaten me.”
“This is no threat, Jack. We’ve got a positive ID on Grizzly and I’m not fucking around. If something like this happens again, I won’t be giving you a courtesy call, got it? I’m going to give you the benefit of doubt that you didn’t know about this and it was unsanctioned. But either way, you’ve got some serious fucking problems. Get a handle on it, Jack, before we have to step in. Don’t fuck up a good thing.”
“Fuck you, Boyd!” Jack snarled before they heard the crash of a phone being slammed down.
“He didn’t know,” Hightower said.
“No, and that worries me even more.” Beast left the handset in the receiver and dialed Rachel’s number. “Rachel? We’re done here. Where are you?”
***
Rachel led Shayna down a short hall that was obviously the connector between the two buildings. About halfway down they passed a heavy door with the word Amory neatly stenciled on it before arriving at the door with the Desert Reapers’ symbol painted on the door. Rachel entered without slowing, and everything changed.
Gone was the conservative business décor, replaced with tile, chrome, leather and wood. The room was dim until Rachel flipped on the lights. The large room was filled with oversized leather furniture and a fully-stocked bar the equal of any she’d seen.
“Big difference between here and the office,” Shayna commented with a grin.
“Yeah. This is where we come to relax and blow off steam.”
“You’re a Reaper?”
“We all are. You can’t work for DRS if you’re not. Beast set it up that way. I think it’s a good idea.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because a brother will put his life on the line for another brother. That’s what makes us such an effective organization. We work hard and we play hard. We trust each other because we’re family.”
“And all the Reapers work for DR Security?”
Rachel laughed. “Not even close. The Reapers have over three hundred fifty active members. Only about thirty of us work for DRS. You have to be a Reaper to work for DRS, but you don’t have to work for DRS to be a Reaper.”
Shayna nodded, looking around the room. “Pretty impressive.”
“Not bad,” Rachel said with obvious pride.
“What do you do, beside answer the phones on Sundays?”
Rachel grinned. “I’m in charge of logistics. I make sure what the teams need is available, when and where they need it. Everyone in logistics has to take a turn on the phones if we have a team in the field so we can provide twenty-four/seven support. This just happened to be my day.”
“And you don’t mind giving up your Sunday?”
“Nah. One day or night every now and again isn’t a big thing. It’s worth it.”
“So you like working for DRS?”
“Yeah, but I like being a member of the Reapers even more.”
“Oh?”
Rachel moved to one of the big chairs and sat down. “Yeah. The club takes care of you. With over three hundred members, there is nothing you need that someone can’t do. We take care of each other. Like I said, we’re like family.”
Shayna nodded. She wasn’t sure what she expected from a motorcycle club, but the Reapers weren’t it. “How long have you been a member?”
“About three years. Before that I was a club girl when Animal was still President.”
“Beast’s dad?”
“That’s right.”
“Beast told me a little about him. His grandfather, too. His dad getting killed still bothers him.”
“He told you about that?”
“Not exactly, but it’s obvious. Why?”
Rachel looked at Shayna. “He doesn’t talk about it much. That was some bad shit. What Beast did, he probably saved a lot of lives
.”
“He didn’t tell me the entire story, only that The Scarred killed his dad.”
“Yeah. Knifed him in the bathroom, the fucks.”
“Why?”
“Bad blood? Who knows? If Beast hadn’t…” Rachel shook her head.
“If he hadn’t what?”
“I wasn’t there, of course, but the rumor is after one of The Scarred knifed Animal, the clubs were about to rumble. Killing all the officers of both clubs? That would have been war, for sure. That meeting was supposed to clear the air between the clubs and The Scarred fucked us. The Reapers were finally out of gun running and Dirty Reaper Tattoos was beginning to franchise. The club was starting to make money legally, and Jack Skellon and Animal were going to make peace. There had been a lot of bad blood over the years, but the clubs weren’t competing anymore and it was the right thing to do because it would make things easier on everyone. Then one of those Scarred fucks shivved Animal. I’ll give Skellon this: he did the right thing and gave up the man rather than start a war. But rather than kill him straight out, Beast gave the man back his knife and told the Reapers, no matter what happened, it ended there. Skellon made the same pledge.”
