by Jessie Cooke
After they left the teen center, Cody took Levi to the mechanic’s shop. The front area that opened to the outside looked like an ordinary shop with motorcycles and cars in varying states of being worked on, or waiting for work. Most of the cars were later models, but nothing fancy or expensive. “Do you take cars and bikes from people outside the club?”
“Oh, yeah. Toolie, our mechanic, has regular customers that have been bringing their vehicles to him for years. He’s a wizard with a bike and a pretty decent auto mechanic too. He’s got four or five prospects now that help him out in here and the rest of us stop by and give him a hand when we can. Come on, I’ll show you the back.”
Levi followed Cody over to a door in the back of the big shop and watched as Cody punched a code into a box next to the door. It beeped and the flashing red light on the door handle turned from red to green. Cody pushed that door open and Levi’s jaw dropped. Cody noticed and smiled. “Nice, huh?”
Levi whistled through his teeth and said, ‘Hell, yeah. I love muscle cars.” The room was filled with cars and bikes, all shiny and most new. The walls were covered with expensive, name-brand parts and lots of chrome. The shop was filled with custom bikes and expensive name cars.
“You know anything about hotwiring these old things?” Cody asked him. With the advent of computers and hackers, it had become almost impossible to steal a car without the key, and next to impossible to disappear after you stole it, thanks to tracking programs like OnStar. But Levi’s Pops and his father had both been old-school, and they’d taught him how to steal any car or any bike…and how to do it quickly.
“A thing or two,” Levi told Cody. “Can I look around?”
“Sure, be my guest.” Levi went over to look at a classic Dodge Charger that the hood was up on. The car was immaculate outside, and under the hood. It looked like the engine had been custom built, and the paint job looked brand new. He moved on to the next one; it was a ’69 GTO, also in immaculate condition. Levi felt like he was in a car museum and he would have liked to examine the cars more closely, but Cody was motioning at him to come over toward another door. Cody put a code into that one and Levi could smell the paint as soon as they walked inside. The walls were covered with plastic and a paint station was set up in the center of the room. There were four men in white coveralls, goggles, and paint masks, working on what looked like an ’80s Porsche. Hundreds, maybe thousands of business-sized cards were pinned to one wall, in the next room, each one a different color, and another wall was covered with various license plates from most if not of all the fifty states. There was a section with rolls of tint for the windows and swatches of upholstery. Another room held tires and there was a wide selection of wheels in every size, shape, and color a car enthusiast could imagine. A few more rooms revealed custom parts for bikes with chrome as the main theme. It was a chop shop the likes of which Levi hadn’t even known existed. If he compared it to the one that the Defenders ran back in Memphis, it would be like comparing a Dodge Dart to that brand new custom Charger they’d passed on the way in.
“You know much about boosting cars?” Cody asked him.
“Not everything, but some,” Levi told him honestly. “Bikes are my specialty.”
“That’s what I heard. Cars aren’t a lot different as far as the hot-wiring goes, but there’s a lot more to watch out for. You want to make sure you’re not wasting your time on one with a steering wheel lock or a built-in GPS device. We have a guy who is a damned tech genius and he can disable the GPS on a bike in a second with a few strokes of his keyboard, but with the cars there’s more to it. We have to get into them first and if they have a GPS then they probably have an alarm too…it’s just not usually worth it, unless it’s one we have a big order for. We don’t worry about what’s inside the car, unless it’s alive. We never take a car that’s occupied—no jacking, even if it’s a pet that was left in the car. There are plenty of vehicles out there for the taking and insurance will likely reimburse the poor sap we take it from…but things get complicated when we start stealing their pets too. We watch out for certain colors. We don’t usually steal a brightly colored car or one that’s got a custom color on it; they’re too easy to spot when we’re driving them back in. We have a handful of guys that drive like Mario Andretti on crack and they get them back here so fast that the color is a blur to anyone that sees it…but again, taking chances is not what we’re after. We don’t take cars with guns in plain view either.”
“Why?”
“If the guy leaves a shotgun strapped in the car, then more than likely he’s got a handgun tucked into his belt and he knows how to use it. We only boost a car for the belongings inside if someone is stupid enough to leave their bank bag lying in the front seat or a designer purse that looks like it might have a lot of cash inside. Mostly, we look for the cars that our ‘customers’ have requested. We hit the fancier restaurants in town, taking what we need while the valets are busy parking other cars, or sending in the girls to distract them. We hit places like the opera house too, and another great place to find what we’re looking for is at a doctor’s office or a recording studio. We always scope out where the cameras are in the lots before we go in, and we time it so that by the time the camera switches to a certain area, we’re long gone.”
“Sounds like fun,” Levi said with a grin. Cody smiled too.
“It’s my favorite job. But…there are some that much prefer the next place I’m going to take you. It’s the last stop on our tour. For this one we’ll have to leave the ranch.”
Levi was up for a bike ride. He’d been cooped up for a day and a half, stuck with his tortured thoughts of Krissy and Zoe and his dad, and he was finally able to think about something else for a while—and on top of that, there was no better therapy than a ride on his Harley. He loved being out on the open road, with the wind in his face and the sun on his back. It was the place where he felt most alive. He and Cody got on their bikes and he followed the big, buff biker out the gates of the ranch and along what seemed to be a main highway for about ten miles. They came to a poorly paved road and Cody turned off onto it. Levi continued to follow him for about five more miles before the big warehouse came into view. There were no signs around it and no markings on the building. Levi had all sorts of ideas in his head about what could be inside…but none of them turned out to be right. A man dressed in a professional-looking security guard uniform opened the door for then before they even got up to it. He greeted Cody warmly and said hello to Levi before buzzing them through another door. The room they walked into was filled with men sitting at tables in front of large-screened computers. They all wore headphones so there was no noise, but the pictures on the computer screens in front of them were all pornographic images. Some of the images were videos of live-action sex and some were stills of beautiful women in varying states of dress. Levi’s eyes moved from one scene to the next and by the time he’d looked at them all, he deduced that there was something for everyone there. “What is this place?”
“This is where we run our porn business. There are rooms in the back where this is all being filmed and these guys are editing the film, almost as it’s happening live. We employ about sixty women and a dozen or so men actors. We have three professional videographers on staff, a few directors and writers, and of course the hair and make-up people and all of that. As you can see, we make straight, gay, and fetish films. The only things Dax and the club have declared off limits are kids, animals, and snuff films. Most of the movies are shipped out of the country, but some of them are sold to collectors here in the U.S. We also have live cams that run around the clock and we shoot films seven days a week.”
“Damn.” It was another amazing set-up, and Levi would be willing to bet that it was where the bulk of the Skulls’ income came from. The more he saw of the empire Dax Marshall had built, the more impressed he was and the more clearly he saw the opportunity that was being laid at his feet. His mind was almost made up; all he had to do was convince his mot
her and his Pops to go with him. As he thought about moving to Massachusetts from Memphis, Zoe’s face suddenly popped into his head, and he slipped his hand into his pocket and palmed her pendant. He wondered why he couldn’t get her off his mind. He thought about what Krissy said to him in his most recent dream about his someday finding another woman he could feel the same connection with as he had her. He wondered if that woman was Zoe…and if he moved fifteen hundred miles away, would he ever get the opportunity to find out?
23
“Mom, I’m gonna bust.” Levi had been back in Memphis for less than three hours and his mother had already filled him full of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and white gravy and homemade biscuits. He could tell that she missed having someone around to cook for since his dad died. His Pop’s diabetes kept him from eating the rich southern food she loved to cook. Levi had eaten every bite she gave him, but now she was trying to serve him a piece of homemade apple pie a la mode.
“Just a few bites,” she said. “You’ll love it.”
“I know I will. I love your apple pie. But, I have to let my dinner digest first.” He looked around his mother’s kitchen. The counters were filled with homemade cakes, pies, cookies, and even doughnuts. “You starting up a bakery?” he asked her with a grin.
She looked embarrassed. “I’ve just been in a baking mood lately. I’ll take most of it up to the clubhouse this afternoon.”
Levi nodded. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and sat down at the table with him.
“You ever think about moving?”
She raised an eyebrow. “No. I’ve lived in Memphis all of my life. Where would I go?”
“Massachusetts…maybe?”
“Why on earth would I want to go to Massachusetts?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about a change and I have this opportunity to get in with a really good, strong club up there. Have you heard of the Southside Skulls?”
“Of course. I knew their founder, Doc Marshall. His son is president now, right?”
It always amazed him how well-informed his mother was. She rarely went to the clubhouse anymore, but she always knew what was going on. “Yeah, Dax—he’s the one that’s offering to take me on, even knowing that Cheney is probably going to be pretty pissed off…”
“Levi, ‘pissed off’ is putting it mildly. I don’t trust Cheney and your father didn’t trust him either. If it was that easy to leave, your dad would have done it, a long time ago.”
“I got the impression that Dad’s not leaving was what pissed Cheney off. He was doing his best toward the end to make him as miserable as possible. He even told me that he wasn’t going to let Cheney have his way.”
Levi’s mom sighed. “That was true, but your father didn’t just want to leave, he wanted…Just please do me a favor, honey, and really think this through.”
“Mom, what are you not telling me?”
“Nothing, Levi.” She pushed back from the table and stood up. Turning her back to him, she started drying dishes out of the dish rack. “Just promise me you won’t do anything rash, okay?”
Levi pushed his chair back and stood up too. “Mom, look at me.” He watched her reach up and wipe her face before turning to look up at him. “I know when you’re keeping something from me. What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, sharply. “I just don’t want you so far away and I don’t want you to risk…whatever you’d be risking if you left. Remember what they did to Duckie when he left?”
“Duckie was stealing from the club, Mom. He didn’t ‘leave.’ He was kicked out.” Duckie had been caught red-handed, skimming cash from his drug sales. Cheney had brought him in front of the executive board and they voted unanimously to kick him out of the club, even Levi’s father. But they didn’t just kick him out. Cheney and Jackie D had him taken into the shop before he left and Spider had used a blowtorch to remove his Defenders tattoo off his back. He left with third-degree burns on his back, but at the time, Levi remembered thinking he was lucky that Cheney let him ride out of there alive. This wasn’t the same situation. Levi hadn’t done anything against the club, and he’d suffered through a double tragedy losing his dad and Krissy. Even if he wasn’t fed up with the way Cheney did things…he might just need a change.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. Cheney has never taken out his dislike of Dad on me. I’m just going to talk to him…”
“No!” She snapped, loudly, and banged the cup she was holding down on the cabinet so hard that it shattered in her hand. She was bleeding and she just stood there looking at the piece of ceramic left in her hand. Levi grabbed the towel out of her other hand and as he pressed it to the bleeding one he said:
“What the hell, Mom? What is this about?” Instead of answering him, she dropped the bloody piece of the cup that she was still holding and pulled away from Levi and walked out of the kitchen. Levi stood there in shock, looking at the blood on the counter and the floor, wondering what the hell just happened.
“What’s going on?” He turned and saw his Pops, leaning forward in his wheelchair, holding the kitchen door open with one hand.
Levi shook his head. “I don’t know. Mom just kind of freaked out on me.”
His grandfather’s eves went to the blood on the counter and the floor. “Is she okay?”
“She cut her hand, but I don’t think it’s too bad. It’s her state of mind I’m worried about. Has she seemed okay to you?”
“She’s been her old ornery self. What did you say to her?” he asked, rolling the chair into the kitchen.
“I was talking about leaving the club. She freaked out. She thinks Cheney will…I don’t know, burn off my tats or something.”
“They have done that, and worse. Maybe she’s got a point,” his Pop said.
“You too? You think I should just stay where I am because I’m afraid of what Cheney may or may not do?” Levi had almost forced himself to forget the crazy idea that his father’s and Krissy’s deaths were not an accident, but he had the feeling that was what his mother had been trying not to say…and now his Pops as well.
“No,” Pops said, “I told you that I wish you’d get the hell out of that club and as far away from here as you can.” He sighed and said, “But I told your father the same thing…and now I have to wonder…”
“Dad!” Levi’s mother had come back down the stairs and was glaring at her dad.
“Well, if you don’t want him to leave, then you should at least be honest with him about why that is. I think he has a right to know.”
“I have a right to know what? What are you talking about?” Levi was looking from his mother to his Pops. They were still glaring at each other. No one said anything for several long seconds, so Levi said, “Mom, I’m not twelve years old any longer. What the fuck are you two talking about? Is this about the accident?”
“Don’t use that language in my home.”
“Then talk to me, damn it!”
“She doesn’t think it was an accident. Your old man told Cheney he was leaving. He planned on talking to you about going with him that night…but you’d had a lot to drink, so he was going to wait. Obviously, he never got the chance.”
A chill ran through Levi. Hearing it said aloud by someone else made it that much more real. The idea had been there since the day he and his mom talked about what the investigator told her. He had hoped that Mickey could look at the bike and tell…but it was too far gone. Levi didn’t want to think his father and Krissy were murdered, and he tried to convince himself that he was being paranoid, but now he knew his mother was thinking the same thing.
“When did Dad talk to Cheney?”
“Levi, leave it alone, please…”
“Mom! When did he talk to Cheney?” Levi had been worried about his mother’s not crying after his old man died. He didn’t have to worry any longer; she was sobbing now.
“I can’t lose you too, Levi. It will kill me. Please…we ca
n’t bring them back…”
“And we can’t just let them fucking get away with killing them either. They killed the only man you ever loved. They took my father away. They took Krissy away and along with her, my future. If Dad hadn’t gone to take Krissy home, both of my parents might be dead! Where is the accident report?”
“In the desk in the living room,” his Pops said. That netted him another glare from Levi’s mom. Levi went into the living room and pulled the three-page document out of the top drawer of the desk. His eyes scanned it until he found what he was looking for and then he folded it up and stuck it in his pocket. When he went back into the kitchen, he noticed his mother’s hand was still bleeding through the bandage she’d gone and wrapped it in.
“We’re taking you to the ER,” he told her, “and on the way, you’re going to tell me everything. I’m not a kid, Mom. Dad and Krissy deserved better than what they got and if Cheney planned this…he’s going to pay, whether you help me or not.”
She looked at her father and he nodded. “Go on and get your hand fixed up, and listen to your son. He’s a grown man, Janice. You can’t protect him forever. Besides, he’s no safer in that club now that Mac is dead than he is going after them.”
“I’ll get my purse” was all she said. Levi grabbed the keys to her car off the key rack by the door.
“Tell her I’ll be in the car.”
“Levi, go easy on her. The only thing she’s guilty of is loving you and Mac too much.”
Levi took a deep breath. He knew his sudden anger with his mother was displaced. He nodded at his grandfather and said, “I will, Pops. But if Cheney did this…”
