Page 268 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
I nod. That’s what I’d guessed.
“I don’t mean as a hang-around or a prospect. We want you to patch in as a member. You’ve done your twenty in the service. That’s enough for us.”
“I appreciate that.” Although I’m always willing to pay my dues, I wasn’t looking forward to the hazing prospects get to assure their loyalty.
“Just speaking for myself,” Walter continues. “I think you’d be a real addition to the club.”
“Thank you.”
Bud clears his throat. “That’s a poker face to envy. Can you give us a hint here, Mac?”
Baez chuckles. “I’m never sitting a table with this fucker.”
I shoot him a grin. “I’m very interested. I’ve missed being part of a brotherhood.”
“Great,” Walter says, patting the table with his meaty hand. “Bud, your show.”
“Okay.” Bud takes a pair of wire-rimmed specs out of his breast pocket and perches them on his nose, flips open his folder, and takes out a handwritten list. “We have a few rules. We’re not the Hell’s Angels and we’re not a fucking fight club, but you’ll appreciate that we don’t share club business outside this clubhouse or with anyone who isn’t a patched member. Respect your brothers. Respect the club.”
“Understood,” I say.
“This is a Harley club, so you must ride a Harley. If you ride anything else, you don’t ride with us. You must wear the cut when you’re in the clubhouse or on any club business, like a ride. Respect the cut. Treat it like the flag. It never touches the ground.”
“Got it,” I say.
“Rolling Blue is not an outlaw club. No brother will commit any crime, be implicated in any crime, or be an accessory to any crime. If any brother is convicted of a crime, they forfeit their cut.”
“Okay, I understand.” Seems a little harsh, but I guess it’ll keep me honest about parking tickets.
“Attendance at club meetings is mandatory. Meetings are held alternate Thursday nights at nine. One brother speaks at a time. Votes are by two-thirds majority.”
“Makes sense,” I say.
“Members must live in New Jersey,” Bud says, drawing a finger down his list. “At least part time. I know you got a place in Brooklyn. If you don’t wanna give that up, club can rent you a room.”
Disappoint the brother and son who has already had blueprints drawn up with “Mac’s Suite” on them? I don’t think so.
“How negotiable is that?” I ask.
Bud looks up over the rim of his glasses. “Is that a problem? I thought your place in Brooklyn was just a rental?”
I nod. “I have something permanent now in the East Village.”
Bud and Walter glance at each other.
“How permanent?” Walter asks.
“Before we get into that, we should talk about the other thing,” Stape interjects.
“Right.” Walter rubs his chin. “Mac, how well do you know Brenna?”
Unsure where he’s going with this, I shrug. “It’s fairly new between us, but I know she’s trustworthy. She’s well-trained.” Walter’s a Dom, so he’ll know what I mean. “She certainly wouldn’t do anything to break club rules.”
Stape snorts. “Let me tell you a few things about yourtrustworthygirl.” He flips open his folder and reads fromthe pages clipped inside. “Brenna Truelove. Eight counts of disturbing the peace. One count of solicitation. One count of assault with a deadly weapon. Abaseballbat. Only reason she didn’t go down is the girls she attacked were known gang-bangers.”
I keep my face blank. I can’t wait to do a baseball bat scene with my little slugger. And if Stape thinks he’s going to turn me against Bren by unearthing her juvie record, which he’s got no fucking business disclosing, he’s got me all wrong.
Stape continues with a curled lip, “Known associates, Edwina Lincoln, former head of an all-girl gang in the Bronx known as the East C Girls, currently serving a dime in Otisville for gang assault. Alice Simpson, ex-gang member, sex worker, web-cam girl, and professional dominatrix?—”
