Page 4 of Devil's Marker

“And I hear stuff now and then. In addition to a string of even less respectable activities, Stars & Bars have been tryin’ to shake down the Marauders. Allegedly. Marauders are refusin’ to pay. It’s a ballsy move. Marauders have clubs in every Texas city plus a couple in Colorado. Same in New Mexico.”

“Allegedly.”

“Yeah. The refusal to pay is allegedly why the Marauders’ club in Mexia was burned down three months ago.”

“Thing’s comin’ to a head.”

“How do you know?”

“Let’s just say these things have a rhythm and things are progressin’ according to pattern. It’s all about historical context. People never change.”

“So much for evolution.”

“The last time there was an evolutionary shift was when we started walkin’ on two legs and our bodies are still makin’ us pay for that one. Say, did you see that thing online? That video with the full-grown male gorilla walkin’ on two legs. Bikers could learn a thing or two about swagger.” He laughed as he stuffed a biscuit in his mouth. Brant just stared. “Anyway, it’s comin’.

“Stars & Bars are outnumbered, but they’ve grown. Eight hundred members.” Brant whistled. “I’m sure most of them are perfectly nice folks.” Brant chuckled. “But two Marauders were stabbed in a roadhouse parking lot by the goddamn president of the S&B Abilene chapter about four months ago. He’s in jail, but bikers are never satisfied until they get their own kind of justice.

“S&B didn’t even have a presence here until three or four years ago. They sent a wave from Alabama and Mississippi to establish ground. They started flexin’ on all the other clubs in the area. Claiming they owned central Texas. Harassing the other clubs. You know the usual bullshit. ‘You can’t ride here. This is our town’. Most of the clubs thought S&B were Klan members.”

“Are they?”

“They wear lightning bolts.”

Brant sighed. “What is it you’re lookin’ for?”

“Mainly want to know if and when a meet is scheduled. Not just top patches. Whole clubs. A get together like that has the makin’s of an incident worthy of nationwide news.”

Brant looked around for a few seconds. “I can ask, but it’s up to him. If he goes, I’m gonna have to stipulate a cap on how long. Not about to leave him hangin’ in the wind forever.”

“That’s fair.” Russell leaned over far enough to pull his wallet out of his back pants pocket. “Three months.”

Brant shook his head. “No.”

“The Johns marker was worth somethin’, Brant. You know it and I know it.”

There was no arguing that. Getting Cannon Johns out of jail in three days and getting all charges dropped had taken some doing, even with Brand’s connections and money to grease the way judicially.

“Was worth a lot in good will, Russ. But not worth a man’s life. One month. If he starts feelin’ antsy about the situation, he’s out and that’s the end of it.”

“Alright.” He put a twenty on the table. “If he says yeah, you give him my number. Have him memorize it. Either I won’t hear from him for a month or I’ll get one phone call. Just one. There’ll never be any contact between him and me. And I suggest he not contact you either.”

Nodding his head, Brant said, “I wasn’t born yesterday either. Don’t forget the photo op on your way out.”

Russell glanced over at the little family. All four were watching him like a hawk. “Jesus,” he said under his breath.

“I’m on my way out. I’ll take the pic so you look your best.”

Russell gave Brant a look that would have shriveled another man’s balls. Brant laughed.

CHAPTER Two

Four Days Earlier

Win Garrett showed up at the SSMC gates one day asking to speak with the president. After checking for arms and giving him clearance, Win was invited to park his bike inside the yard and shown to Brant’s office.

He stood in front of Brant’s desk in worn brown jeans, a black tee, and biker boots that looked like they’d been through a war. He explained that he’d been with the Huns in San Clemente, which was a hot spot because of its strategic location halfway between L.A. and San Diego, and was looking for a change.

He didn’t explain that the last time he was in a situation where weapons were drawn and fired caused him to take a seriously hard look at his life. Where he’d been. What he’d done. Where he was going.

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