by TR Cameron
It had been an easy night at the Tavern, which was good since her body screamed from the workout Ikehara had put his students through that morning. She’d spent a total of at least an hour between then and work under the hot spray of her shower across several sessions but was still sore. It seemed there were muscles she didn’t use very often and her teacher had exploited every one of them during the group session.
Something struck her arm and she flinched and almost dropped the tray filled with empty glasses. It turned out to be a gesticulating wizard who’d smacked her with his wand, but her nerves were no less jangled at the discovery. She made her way carefully to the front and set the tray down, then took a seat across from her boss.
He shook his head. “You’re going too hard, Cali.” Fyre snorted agreement from his position at the back of the bar but sent her only good feelings over their mental connection.
She shrugged and accepted the glass of cider he put before her. “I don’t see another option, do you? Other than hiding in the basement with my hands over my ears and my eyes closed, that is.”
The dwarf gave a short laugh. “Well, there’s some truth to that. You could probably hide in New Atlantis. Lie low and avoid the people trying to kill you.”
Cali shook her head. “That doesn’t protect any of you from them, though. It merely removes me and I’m safe for the next couple of weeks, anyway.”
“Why are you so jumpy, then?”
To delay her answer, she sipped her cider, but he refused to release the hard stare he had fixed on her. With a sigh, she lowered the glass to the bar. “I’m doing a terrible job of keeping it all out of my head, I guess.”
He nodded. “Then you definitely need to hit the road. Break the associations that trigger the bad thoughts and find a little peace, even if it’s momentary.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do without me.”
The dwarf laughed. “Don’t worry. Janice is available.”
Cali’s retort was lost in the sound of Tanyith’s bellowed, “A drink, barkeep, before I die of thirst.” She twisted to look at the door, where he stood with a silly grin, apparently in a buoyant mood.
He slid into the seat beside her. “What’s up, sour-face?”
She raised an eyebrow and looked across the bar. “I’m sure he’s talking to you, Zeb.”
Her boss pointed at his lips, which were turned up in a smile. “And I’m sure not.”
“Shut up, you. Both of you.” She sighed and swiveled to face the new arrival. “What’s your deal? Is someone having a sale on hair gel that got you all worked up?”
He grinned and stroked his high pompadour. With the shaved sides beneath, it really was a decent look for him. “While I appreciate you noticing my good looks—seriously, how could you not—no, that’s not it. I have a lead.”
“On your mystery man?”
“Dray came up with something out of nowhere. I guess he felt like he owed me one, even though I didn’t join his gang. I plan to do a little recon this evening.”
Cali glanced at Zeb, who gave her a slight nod. “I can leave early to give you a hand.”
Tanyith shook his head. “Nah, tonight should be easy. If it needs more than me, I’ll text you and wait till you’re done. You gotta pay the rent, right?”
She laughed. “Right. And I’d better get back to that.” Although the monthly payment she received from the trust her parents had put in place for her was a dependable income source, it wasn’t sufficient to meet all her needs. Working was still required.
Plus, I’m not really cut out for a life of leisure, even if I am allegedly noble. A fast-moving bench scraped behind her and she turned with a sigh to intervene in whatever argument was about to break out.
Chapter Fifteen
Dray’s tip had brought Tanyith to a location he’d never expected to see again. While the Shark Nightclub was the Atlantean gang’s main hangout, a number of them had spent many nights at another one, far enough away from the headquarters that they could be reasonably assured of privacy. He hadn’t visited since his return from Trevilsom and lacked the desire to go down the rabbit hole of his motivations around that.
Let’s call it a lack of time. Yeah.
The Otter was a strange little bar located on the third floor of a corner building above a drugstore at street level and a voodoo shop on the second. The narrow staircase forced incoming patrons to halt at a lower floor to allow those exiting to get past. More than one fight had happened in that cramped space and the poorly patched walls provided a historical record of sorts. He smiled at the sight of a familiar scar, the result of his actions on a particularly revel-filled evening.
But a bad memory balanced every good one, with the latter clustered toward the time immediately before he’d been sent away—suspicion, frustration, and arguments over whether to stay with the gang or break off and form another. To be back was bittersweet, at best.
The large single room that comprised the venue looked exactly as he remembered it. The stairs entered at the rear of one of the longer walls and the bar sat directly in front of it along a short one. Windows and booths covered the other two sides of the rectangle, with high-top tables between. No servers worked at the Otter, and the only food was prepackaged bags of chips and snacks, bought with your drink from the bartenders.
He walked to stand at the bar in his usual place, the far side that gave him a view of the entry door. It put his back to a window, but he’d always assumed that if a sniper targeted him, he’d be toast anyway. The bar had no seats, only a footrail and room to lean. The bartender hadn’t changed either. He claimed his name was Otto, although no one believed it. He did have the stocky build and thick black mustache to support his claim of German origin, at least around those who only knew that country from cartoons and television shows. His bald head had sweat on it as he bustled from customer to customer.
In moments, Tanyith had Rye on the rocks in front of him as if no time had passed since his last visit. He nodded and slid a twenty across, which would get him a couple more. For the regulars, which he had been, the bar operated more by instinct than by numbers. When Otto felt you were paid up, drinks came without hesitation. When they slowed, you forked over more money or went home.
The lack of other familiar faces was the only reason why it didn’t feel like a place he belonged. He didn’t recognize the second bartender, nor any of the patrons in the mostly filled booths, the couples at the high-tops, and the other hard-looking people who stood closest to where the alcohol lived. But he was early and the man Dray told him to look for hadn’t ever been one to arrive until late.
Tanyith knew that well since Karam had been his best friend and mentor before he’d been ripped from his life and sent to Trevilsom. He’d looked for him after his return to the city but hadn’t found a single clue until Dray connected the man to Aiden Walsh and told him where and when he might be found. He leaned on the bar, filled with equal parts anticipation and fear. In truth, it would be easiest if the man was mistaken so he could go back to his fruitless search with his past image of Karam untouched.
The next person to enter banished that fantasy. The man’s look, the manner in which he walked, and the wry smile that always seemed to grace his face immediately told Tanyith that nothing had changed. It might have been twenty-four months before at the start of another night of carousing and arguing over the differences between what was right, what was practical, and what was good. He tensed at the sight of the older man, ready to pursue him if it became necessary. But the way the new arrival’s face blossomed into a grin dispelled all his fears.
Karam was big and burly, equal parts muscle and flesh, and almost six and a quarter foot tall with brown hair in dreadlocks that hung to his waist. His skin was dark, pitted here and there with the signs of an acne-filled young adulthood, and his button-down shirt looked expensive, as did the khakis below and the shining boots visible under them. He wrapped Tanyith in a hug and when they separated, he discovered he still re
membered the ritual hand slaps the gang members had practiced in their subgroup.
His voice was low, pitched to not carry, as always. “Shale, when did you get back?”
Tanyith shook his head. “A while ago. I looked for you. Where have you been hiding?”
The other man shrugged and took the shot the bartender handed him. He downed it and followed it with a long pull on the beer that accompanied it. “Around. Here and there. You’re not thinking about rejoining, are you?”
“Oh, hell no. That wench wound up in charge exactly like we thought she would.”
He nodded. “I left shortly after you vanished. No one would give me any real answers, but I did have the sense that people knew and wouldn’t talk. I couldn’t be a part of that crew anymore because of it. I was sure they’d killed you. It took six months before someone finally told me where you’d disappeared to, and I assumed you were a goner. How did you get back?”
His laugh sounded a little brittle. “Explaining that would take days. Suffice it to say that another group of scumbags decided I could be of use to them and broke me out to set their hook deep.”
“Ouch.” He slid a bill across the bar and new drinks appeared for them both moments later. “So, something tells me it might not be only luck that puts us both here at the same time, hey?”
Tanyith nodded and lowered his voice even more. “Dray mentioned you sometimes hung out here. I helped him with an issue a while back, and I guess he thought the scales were still unbalanced. He directed me to you to put them right.”
“And you wanted to find me because?” He sounded cautious but not suspicious.
“I missed you?” After a brief pause, they both laughed. It feels almost like old times. I’d forgotten in all the bad that there was so much good, too. He shook his head. “I’m looking for someone for a friend. Well, hell, for Sienna. You remember her.”
He grinned. “How could I not? You were stupid for her.”
“And continue to be, apparently. Anyway, she misplaced her ex-boyfriend and wants to find him. She still carries a flame or something.”
Karam’s face turned sour. “So, let me get this right. You—who might or might not have a thing for Sienna—said you’d try to find her ex-boyfriend and you’re actually doing it?” He finished the beer in his glass. “You’re the same idiot I remember, Tay.”
They laughed again with the easy camaraderie forged over time. “Yeah, I guess I am, at that. So, how about you catch me up with everything you know about the old gang, starting with Aiden Walsh?”
His friend’s lips turned down at the mention of the name and he collected the full glasses that had appeared and carried them to a booth in the corner. Tanyith slid in across from him, and his old friend shook his head. “Okay, so let’s start with the man of the hour. Aiden went underground. I hear he pops up now and again but is generally absent—like he’s out of town or something but comes through on business on the regular.”
Tanyith frowned. “Well, damn. That’ll make intercepting him difficult. Do you have any names of people who might know when he’ll be around?”
Karam shook his head. “I really don’t. But I’ll spread the word and see what I can find.”
“Do it quietly. From what I’ve been able to put together, he’s become a serious piece of bad news since Sienna knew him. I always thought he was a jerk but not a player.”
“Based on what I hear, you missed that call.”
He nodded. “It seems like it. So, who else?”
His companion listed a number of names, all of which were vaguely familiar but none of which summoned a face to his mind. “They’re all working together—kind of a merry band of idiots—doing petty crimes. Their team hits stores at night, that kinda garbage.”
The man’s words jogged a memory. “Hey, wait—they weren’t behind the robbery at Maurier’s place, were they?”
Karam nodded. “Yep, far as I know. Why do you ask?”
“Bennie’s a friend of mine from way back through Sienna. More importantly, he has a family and a kid who’s going through medical issues. He would have been on the don’t touch list in our day.” They had always been careful to research the people they targeted and stuck mostly to those who could afford a little loss. When they screwed up, which they did sometimes, they made good in an anonymous way.
His old friend snorted. “There aren’t enough brains among them to make a list, much less follow it. They’re all about targets of opportunity. I doubt they even have a plan, merely smash, grab, and run.”
“Still. It doesn’t give them the right to take from those without enough to spare.”
The man shrugged. “No one cares. They’re too small for the police to worry about in any serious way, and the gangs that used to look out for folks are busy feuding with each other.”
Or with others, but point taken. Tanyith frowned. “So, how about this? You work on finding more information for me on Aiden Walsh and we’ll meet here for a longer night of catching up when my schedule eases in a week or so. I have a friend who needs help between now and then.”
Karam nodded. “That sounds good. It’s awful nice to see you back, Tay.”
“And you, Ram.” He stood to leave, then snapped his fingers as if a thought had occurred to him. “You don’t know where those boys who hit Bennie’s place hole up, do you?”
He shook his head. “Nah. You’re not asking for any particular reason, are you?”
“I thought I might look ʼem up.”
“Well, if you decide that you want to do something about it, feel free to reach out. I wouldn’t mind taking a stroll down memory lane and kicking some asses that desperately need it.”
“You got it, brother.” And I know exactly who to ask to get a lead on where they are.
Chapter Sixteen
Kendra Barton was out and about when he called, so they agreed to meet at a small restaurant that stayed open all night to give the workers closing the bars somewhere to unwind before they wandered home for much-needed sleep. She was already there when he arrived, tucked in a booth with a cup of coffee and a Coke in front of her. Her short black hair drooped into her eyes, and she wore a black top under her heavy black leather jacket. He slid in across from her and stole a sip. “Cherry. The best of the flavors.”
She scowled at him. “You know, a booty call at one am is something I might have expected and even welcomed. But calling when I’m out having a few drinks so I can work for you is cold, Tay. Damn cold.” The words came out with a smile, but he heard the truth behind them too. He’d been busy, but he’d also kept his distance a little. What she’d said about him straddling the line rather than choosing a side hadn’t sat well with him.
“No rest for the wicked, so they say. But I think you’ll be glad you decided to answer when you hear what I need.”
After a moment, she nodded. “All right. Lay it on me.”
He had to wait while the server slid the plate with her burger and fries in front of her. She gestured for him to start while she ate. “Okay, so, I ran into an old friend tonight—a good one. He told me it’s members of our former club who have pulled a number of the smaller hit-and-run robberies around town.”
His companion frowned as she chewed, swallowed, and followed it with a gulp of coffee. “It’s not really my area unless you’re telling me it’s on behalf of one of the gangs.”
“Nah, they are strictly small fish. But they’re indiscriminate and it’s only a matter of time before the idiots do something bigger like shoot someone while they’re stoned and looking to steal munchies.”
Kendra snorted and coughed around the food in her mouth. When she could speak again, she pointed a French fry at him. “That’s attempted murder right there. You did that on purpose.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “It was totally random, Detective. So, are you able to hack the system or whatever it is you do and check to see if there’s any info on them?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. I can search th
e database. You weren’t gone long enough to be this much of a Luddite. Read a book, Shale.” She dug into the pocket of her leather jacket, retrieved her heavy-duty cop phone, and ran through the security protections he found decidedly overdone. Finally, she typed a few things and swiped the screen. After a couple of minutes—during which he snatched fries from her plate when she wasn’t looking—she raised her gaze to focus on him.
“Okay, these people are scumbags, you’re right. They robbed a damn church. Who does that?”
“My guess is it’s more stupidity than evilness—drunk or high and simply taking whatever target presents itself. Although maybe I’m wrong and they’re a super-secret criminal organization trying to appear to be idiots to throw suspicion off. What I need is a location. Do you have anything?”
Barton frowned in concentration. “Okay, that’s a little extra challenging. Fortunately, these babies have more computing power than you’d think.” She typed quickly into the device and he stole a sip of her drink. Without looking up, she growled annoyance. “Order your own, freeloader.”
He laughed and walked to the counter to do so. When he returned, she slid the phone across to him. “I put in a search for all the petty theft above the level of street grabs and asked the system to plot them on a map. It’s a very interesting result if you ask me.”
It took him several seconds to understand what he was looking at, but the pattern soon became clear. The incidents formed a rough semi-circle, and more or less at the midpoint of that was one of the abandoned industrial areas that lay on the fringes of the touristy parts of the city near the docks. “So, your computers think this is where they’re based?”
Kendra nodded. “That’d be my guess.” His food arrived and she chewed a fry thoughtfully while he poured ketchup on his burger. “The question is, what do you plan to do about it?”
Tanyith met her gaze. “Do you suggest I should report it to the police? The same police who haven’t seen fit to address it because they have bigger things to deal with?”
