Page 125 of Roses Are Dead
“The lawyer get back to you?”
He nodded. “They’ve cleared me completely.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “Get drunk. Really fucking drunk. Don’t worry about that shit, and just grieve. Okay?”
KC wasn’t listening. He stared at the casket sitting all by itself on the other side of the room. It was as if no one had the balls to approach Fish’s corpse. I tugged on his shirt and pulled him to the casket. I laid a hand on the wood and knocked three times. For luck?
The noise triggered a gasp from the bystanders. The room quieted and I swear some of them held their breath.
I waited long enough to let the silence get uncomfortable. “See? Dead. He ain’t Jesus folks.”
KC snorted. “You asshole.” His laughter quickly turned into sobs. I held him up as he draped over Fish’s coffin and poured out his pain. To everyone else, I shot the evil eye. If any one of those dicks got too close, I shifted a foot and clenched my fist. Even going as far as raising it once.
When KC finally got his shit together, he used his bandana to wipe his face and blow his nose hard. “I needed that.”
He slapped my side, letting me know we were good.
After the funeral I rode with him to the club, poured him a glass of my private stock and left the bottle on the bar beside it.
Brothers approached him one at a time. Each one taking time to sit next to him. Offer an ear, slap his patch, or pour a fresh glass.
The mood was somber for a Friday. On everyone’s mind was the upcoming meeting, but not a single person mentioned it. The clock was ticking, though.
I turned to Wolf. “I gotta go pick up Rose.”
“You got two hours. Don’t be late.”
I laughed. “Don’t start without me.” The humor died too quickly. “You know? We don’t have to do this tonight. I can wait.”
“The club can’t. It needs to get done.”
I shook my head and looked at Fish. “Bad timing.”
He scratched the scruff on his face and then gestured around the room. Plastic spiders hung from webbing the women had strung around each rafter. Orange and black streamers decorated the shelves of the bar. There were carved Jack-o-lanterns everywhere. Even decorated gourds and a random turnip troll or five. Rose’s doing.
“It’s Halloween night. The perfect time for you to take your rightful place.”
My spine tingled. Tomorrow Carl would demand I give Rose back.
And for demanding that, I’d kill him.
“I think it should wait.” I had a murder to plan. One that could take the club down if I was an officer. The cops sometimes looked no further than the source when it was just a member, but as a decision-maker? That was a fast escalation to RICO charges.
Wolf shook his head. “Get your woman. This isn’t waiting.”
It took at least ten minutes to get out the door. Everyone wanted a piece of me today. My phone buzzed so often, I’d silenced it. I scrolled through the messages.
One number stood out. I’d memorized it almost a month ago, but I’d never dialed it.
“What’s up?”
“Can we meet? I’m ready to talk.”
I blurted out an address between the club and my house. It was for the park where I’d first seen Rose standing on that pier. But the last pylon was gone now. I pulled up next to John’s truck. He’d parked in almost the same spot Rose had parked Carl’s sports car.
I barely recognized John.
The last time I’d seen him, he was in a clean button-down dress shirt and khakis. Today, he wore dirty jeans caked in drywall dust and an insulated flannel overshirt that might have been brightly-colored at one point, but was almost as weathered as his jeans.
