“ – paid cash for three months’ rent and was cleared out by the time his lease was up. Very up-front with the money, he said, but he gave him a ‘bad feeling.’ Made him think something shady was going on.”
“Because it was,” Ghost said. “Did he run a credit check?”
“It was all above-board. Nothing off there.
“Three of our dealers,” he continued, “say they were offered the same deal as Fisher. They were selling outside the city, but the same thing happened. Another dead kid in Spring City.”
“Shit,” Ghost said. “Which dealers?”
“Huck, Junior, and Presley.”
“All of them ditched the stuff?”
“No. They’re bringing it to me. I figure we want as much of it rounded up as possible.”
“We do,” James said, a long drag on his smoke afterward.
“Assuming Jon Smith is an alias,” Walsh said, and was met by nods of agreement. “It’d have to be pretty decent to get past a credit check.”
“Means there was real money to put into fake accounts, to run up paid tabs on a fake credit card,” Hound added.
“Someone loaded,” Rottie said. “Or someone loaded funding someone else.”
“So we start knocking on rich dicks’ doors,” Aidan said with his usual bravado. “Sic Mercy on some of them and see who squeals.
Mercy grinned, but he was prepared for Ghost saying, “That’s assuming he’s even based in Knoxville. And if he isn’t, we’ve pried the fingernails off some very powerful people who’ll go running straight to the feds and we’re all doing nothing but yard-time pushups the next fifteen years.”
Aidan’s face colored; he glanced down at his hands, pretending they were fascinating.
“So we’ve got shit,” James said. He took out the last of his cigarette in one deep breath and relinquished it to the ash tray on the end table beside him. “Nothin’ for it, boys, sometimes that’s how it goes. We’ll keep our ears to the ground the next few weeks, see how it shakes out.” He was content to wait for further developments.
Ghost, though, Mercy could see from the man’s quick, harsh frown, wanted immediate action. Ghost, unlike his president, was all about the club being proactive when it came to protecting their reputation. James didn’t mind cleaning up the spill; Ghost never wanted the spoiled milk poured in the first place.
The club would be a very different organization once James finally stepped down and Ghost took the throne. Mercy didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
“Go make me some more money.” James shooed them off with a wide grin.
Ghost muttered something to himself as he stood, giving Aidan’s shoulder a squeeze beside him that was fast, but supportive. One of those silent father-son moments that didn’t need words.
Like Mercy used to have with his father. Back before…
No, not going there, not as Aidan crossed the rug to get to him.
“Some douchebag brought a BMW bike in to be worked on. I can’t do anything with the goddamn imports; can you?”
Mercy met Ava’s brother square in the eye as he stood, smiling. Only a little bit guilty inside. A tiny bit smug. “I’ll take a look.”
They let Sunday go; Mercy tacked the image of her naked and soft in his bed that morning to the forefront of his mind and let the Sabbath bypass them. It was a home day, a family day. He didn’t know how to make time with her and not get everyone suspicious. So he waited, and the waiting made it better, the anticipation. And then it was Monday.
Ava made her appearance in the full glory of afternoon, a tattoo against the golden horizon, a flicker of heat and energy that tripped sirens in his head before his eyes could find her, before he could digest her long legs and her black boots and her old Zeppelin t-shirt. There a moment and then gone, hair flouncing down her back, keys in her hand, truck starting and sliding into gear, an errand to see her mother at the main office, and then back home again, without a wink or a grin, her presence alone an invitation. A white rabbit:Follow me back. Come after me.
Mercy fed Aidan and Tango an excuse about needing to pick up a part, and then the wind was in his face and the Dyna was eating up road and he was at her door before he even thought about refusing himself this opportunity.
Her bed was unmade this time, and she was in icy blue lingerie that looked like she’d just cut the tags off it. Down into her sheets they went and the mattress creaked and groaned and squeaked.
After, replete in the slanted bars of sunlight, Ava whispered that she loved him.
He didn’t reply, but he folded her love up tight like a note and pressed it deep inside himself, where no one would ever find it.
