Page 50 of Reaper
“Who’s asking?”This was a different, equally massive biker, again with the shaved head and goatee thing going on.What ever happened to bikers with long hair?Did I miss a TikTok or something?
“You Tiny?”
“Yeah.”His voice rumbled, like boulders tumbling over one another.
“The guy outside, said his name was Not Stupid Asshole, told me to tell you that I’m alright.And you should let me talk to Big Dick.”
“He lied to you, pal.He’s totally a stupid asshole,” Big Dick said, laughing.“Bring that bottle over here and you can ask me your questions.But I admit to nothing, and I don’t consent to being recorded.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I said.“I’m not after you, and I fucking hate wearing a wire.The tape always pulls my chest hair off.”Then I stepped over the velvet rope into the lion’s den.He just didn’t know the real predator had just come to visit.
I handed over the bottle of tequila with five hundred-dollar bills wrapped around the neck.“I’m looking for somebody you’ve done work with.”
“How do you know who I work with?”he asked after he made the bills disappear and took a long pull off the bottle.
I pulled out my badge wallet and flashed my DHS credentials.“It’s my job to know shit like that,” I said.“Now are we gonna do the bullshit dance where you deny, I threaten, we get in a fight, I beat your ass, and eventually you tell me what I want to know, or are we gonna sit here and drink while you tell me what I want to know?”
Big Dick laughed, and his boys laughed right behind him, good sycophants one and all.“You think you can take all of us?You and what army?”
I didn’t even lean forward in my chair, one of the overstuffed round-back ones covers in faux velvet that are ubiquitous in low-end strip clubs the world over.“I’m all the army I need, Dicky.I’m the one that shut down the Colosseum a couple nights ago.So yeah, I think I can take you and all your boys here without breaking a sweat.”
I heard “Reaper” whispered behind me and let a grin creep across my face.I was finally starting to like that nickname.It opened a lot of doors, as it turns out.
“Okay,” Big Dick said, taking another long drink.I noticed his hand shook a little and could hear the bottle click against his teeth as he tried to fortify himself.“What do you want to know?”
“Where to find Pete and his boss,” I said.“I know you handled the payoffs to Stoller, so you must have a pipeline to the cash.Follow the stink, you get to the shit.And if you follow the money, you get to the shitheads.”
“Why do you want to find Pete and the Irishman?”Dick asked.“You gonna kill ‘em?”
“Probably,” I said.“Unless they surrender.But the Irishman didn’t seem like the surrendering type.Pete, maybe, but that big ginger bastard seemed like he really liked being in charge, and that doesn’t make for somebody who has a lot of quit in them.”
Dick laughed again but cut off his boys with a wave when they started to chuckle.“You guys can fuck off for a bit.Go polish your chrome or something.And Jerky?That’s not a goddamned metaphor.I catch you spanking it in the bathroom again and I’m gonna cut off your thumbs.”
His sycophants trailed off and I laughed.“I remember that shit fromSons of Anarchy.”
“Yeah.That was a good fuckin’ show.Now, Pete and Irish.You really gonna kill ‘em?”
“Like I said, not if they surrender.If they give up, I’ll just throw them into some government prison without a name that doesn’t show up on any maps and let them think about their poor choices for the rest of their lives.”
“What about the big boss?The guy running the whole thing?You gonna put him in jail, too?”
“You know who he is?Where I could find him?”Now I leaned forward in my chair.
“Nah,” Dick said, passing me the bottle.“The boys never let me get that close.Never even hinted at who it might be.But any time I tried to poke around and find out, they looked scared, like he was a real bad motherfucker.Badder than me, and to most folks, that’s saying something.”
He didn’t really look like that much of a badass to me.“Yeah, yeah, you’re a tough guy.But where can I find Tweedledee and Tweedledead?”
“We usually meet here when they need to set up a drop for Stoller.I don’t know where they live, or where they hang out except at the arena.But I got a phone number.Maybe you can hunt ‘em down that way.”
“And you’ll give that to me out of the goodness of your heart?”If I sounded dubious, it’s because I was.
“Nah, I’ll give it to you for another five hundred and a promise to get Angie at the bar a gig.I saw you give her a card.She’s too smart for this shit, and I’m afraid if she hangs out here much longer, she’s either gonna end up on the pipe or on the pole.”
A biker badass with a heart of gold?What is this criminal underworld coming to?I handed him another five bills and a promise to help Angie get a job that didn’t involve criminals, drugs, or prostitution.Although I couldn’t really promise any of that if she actually got a job working for the government.
38
I’ve already gone into great detail about my lack of love for bookstores, given my parents’ guest-starring roles in Stoker’s bestseller.But Barnes & Noble is the kind of bookstore I like the least.If I’m going to hang out around the smell of moldering paper, I at least want there to be overstuffed chairs in dimly lit corners, and maybe a shop cat curling up in my lap while I pore over an antique grimoire.I do not want a brightly lit sterile environment filled with people who get all their reading recommendations from Oprah or Reese Witherspoon.They’re fine humans, I suppose, but hardly who I want curating my reading list.But if you have no place else to go and escape the world, I suppose a massive Barnes & Noble is good for that.
