Part 25 (2/2)
”Remember back at the roadhouse, Ned. Now, some of the other witnesses have told us and the sheriff that the shooters were looking for something, but they didn't know what. No one ever asked for money, or jewelry, or h.e.l.l, even keys to the rigs outside. Do you have any idea what they were after?”
Ned swallowed the bite in his mouth and pursed his brow. After a few seconds he said, ”No, I didn't hear them say anything. I mean, I heard voices-lots of voices, yelling, screaming....” He shoveled a bite of yolk-covered hash browns into his mouth. ”But I didn't hear any words, you know? That gunfire was just so loud... doc says my ears'll still be ringing for a month.”
Henry nodded, disappointed. ”Some people who were there said it looked like the shooters might have been targeting bikers in cuts. Like whatever they were looking for was with the bikers. Know anything about that?”
”No, no...” said Ned, the gears in his head clearly turning. As he cut up more of his pancakes, he said, ”I remember seeing a few different clubs there that night. I mean, if they were looking for bikers, that was the place to be.”
”Right,” said Henry. ”Had a few Black Dogs there, we know.”
”Yep, there was you guys, there was a few Gladiators, couple of Fangs... and, you know, come to think of it...” Ned s.h.i.+fted in his chair to sit up straight and lean across the table towards Henry. ”Come to think of it, Henry, there was something odd I noticed with the bikers.”
”Oh?” said Henry. ”What's that?” Jase put down his coffee cup and listened intently.
”The Rebel Cross boys took off, just disappeared.”
Henry looked down the table at Jase, who shrugged back at him. Beck and Drake had nothing to offer. ”What do you mean?” said Henry. ”We haven't heard anything about any Crosses being there that night.”
”Well, they weren't, not during the shooting,” said Ned. He took a few big gulps of coffee, and then started using his index finger like a pointer on the table while he talked. ”But a few of them were hanging out at the table just across the way from where me and the guys from the quarry had posted up. I remember noticing because Blake was with us, and for a minute I was worried we were gonna need to find a new place to sit if they decided to ha.s.sle us.”
Henry said, ”I take it Blake is not a white man.”
Ned gave a big shake of his head, his expression sour. ”And I ain't seen any trouble like that at the roadhouse for a while, but you never know when those boys get drunk. Anyway, I kept an eye on them for a good little while, as you understand. A couple of pitchers go by, though, and I realize I've loosened up and stopped worrying about them for at least a few minutes, because when I look over again, the table's empty. Two half-pitchers still sittin' there, untouched, and I didn't even notice them leave. In fact I'm pretty sure Johnny might have stolen them at some point for our table.”
The Rebel Cross was a white supremacist MC. Their chapters had been run out of LeBeau and Howlett a while ago, but they still held chapters on either side of the mountain pa.s.s and made frequent stops out of both towns. The Black Dogs made it very clear where they stood on the issue of having any Crosses in town, and most pa.s.sed through quickly and quietly, submissive to the Black Dogs. The Crosses were not popular, and the Dogs outnumbered them in chapters and men.
”They could have just moved tables to get away from your friend,” said Beck.
”Maybe,” said Ned with a shrug. ”Like I said, I didn't see them again. The shooting happened maybe less than an hour after that.”
”Do you remember anything else significant?” asked Henry.
Ned shook his head. ”No, not really. Sorry Henry, I don't like this violence any more than you do. I wish I had more to give you.” He looked around the diner and then asked quietly. ”Should- should I be worried about becoming a target?”
Henry lifted a hand to signal to their waitress and shook his head. ”No, I don't think so Ned. Just holler at us if you remember anything else, or if you see any strange out-of-towners around.”
”I will,” said Ned. Henry paid the bill and shook Ned's hand. The MC left him to finish his breakfast.
As they exited, Jase lingered in the foyer behind to wait for Drake as he sweet-talked one of the waitresses near the pie cabinet, preferring to be the last one out. Drake came sauntering by him as he held open the door when he stopped and sniffed the air.
”Ha, I'd know that delightful musk anywhere,” said Drake. He poked two playful fingers into Jase's chest. ”You got yourself some p.u.s.s.y bro! Light me up.” He put up a hand waiting for a high-five.
Instead, Jase's eyes went wide and he grabbed Drake by the collar, shoving him up against a novelty claw arcade machine in the corner of the lobby. Jase looked around to make sure no one from the MC was eyeballing them, but the rest of the men had grouped in the parking lot.
”What the f.u.c.k is your deal?” said Drake. He gave the hands around his collar a stinking expression.
”You wanna keep your G.o.dd.a.m.n voice down, Drake?” said Jase. He released Drake's s.h.i.+rt with a huff. ”I don't need you spouting my business to everyone in this f.u.c.king town.”
”Spouting your business? Christ, man, we're in a motorcycle club, since when is it news when we get p.u.s.s.y?” said Drake. ”Unless...” His eyebrows went up, eyes behind his sungla.s.ses wide. ”Unless it's secret p.u.s.s.y. Or forbidden p.u.s.s.y. Are you sticking it to Oliver Jr.?!” He poked fingers into Jase's chest again and Jase swatted his hand away.
Jase got low and close to his face. ”Drake, this is not a f.u.c.king joke,” he said. ”If you say a word of this to Henry or anyone else, I will beat the s.h.i.+t out of you.”
”Dude, I'm just here to congratulate you on your victory,” said Drake with his hands up in surrender. He had that s.h.i.+t-eating grin on his face he always got when he talked his way out of a punch. ”That is some prime beef on your grill.”
”Don't f.u.c.king talk about her like that,” said Jase, stepping away from him. ”Just keep your mouth shut, alright?”
”You have my word, brother. But you're probably kidding yourself if you think Henry can't smell that, too.” Drake laughed and straightened his sungla.s.ses before he headed out into the parking lot. Jase took a few deep breaths to calm his anger, and then followed him.
The rest of the men waited by the bikes, and nearly finished with their post-coffee smoke. Jase lit his own and took a puff before he spoke. ”So what is the feeling about this guy?”
”That he hasn't had a hot meal in ten years,” said Drake with a chuckle from the seat of his bike.
”He's the only person to mention seeing the Crosses at the roadhouse. I don't know what to make of that,” said Beck.
”If I remember the map of the bar from the sheriff's report, Ned's table was somewhere near the back end of the roadhouse. If they weren't being crazy, and they left early, I say they could have gone unnoticed on a busy night,” said Henry.
”And why did they leave early?” said Drake.
”Is it possible they knew about the shooting? Could they be in on it?” said Jase.
Henry and Beck exchanged glances. The younger generation of Black Dogs had little interaction with the Rebel Cross. ”Sure, they could be involved in a shootout, but it still doesn't explain why they were involved in this shootout, or what they were looking for,” said Henry.
”If they were looking for bikers, maybe they were trying to settle a score,” said Drake with a shrug.
”Haven't heard about anything like that down the pipeline,” said Beck. ”You'd think a club with beef that bad with the Crosses would have spoken up by now. And it wouldn't explain the drive-by at Maggie's unless the beef was with us, and I can't find anybody who has heard of one.”
Something was nagging at Jase. ”Ned said their table left a few half-empty pitchers of beer. Party night at the roadhouse, pitchers started, that sounds to me like they were planning on getting comfortable, and something changed the plan.”
The group was silent for a minute. Finally Jase continued, ”If we had planned the shooting in a place we knew some Black Dogs might be hanging out, we would try to clear them out, right? Not just to keep them from getting hurt, mind you. But if what we were after was tied to an MC, and we mowed down members of every club except our own, we'd basically be solving the case for the cops.”
Henry said, ”They're looking mighty suspicious right now. We have to follow up on this, quietly. It seems very unlikely these two things are not related.”
Jase couldn't believe how messy this entire thing was getting. A few days ago, his biggest concern was fine-tuning the angry speech he was going to give his ex-girlfriend who had just blown back into town. Now he was unraveling a criminal plot to murder her that was beginning to look bigger than any of them expected. He rubbed a tired hand over his face and hair.
Henry pulled up his phone and got on the line with Tommy back at the clubhouse. He had him go through some of the club's paperwork to find an old contact Henry knew at one point who had a line with the Rebel Cross. It had been a few years since they had spoken, thanks to the Crosses being mostly non-existent in LeBeau's world, but it seemed to be the only lead he could follow for the moment while still remaining under the radar.
”Until we have a better handle on this thing, I don't want it getting out that we're checking out the Rebel Cross,” said Henry as they loaded up.
”Gotcha, boss,” said Jase. He straddled his bike and pulled his phone out of his pocket to give it a last check before he put his gloves on. He had a text from a number he didn't recognize.
It said simply: ”Sorry.”
Jase stared at it as the bikes rumbled to life around him. For a few seconds, he contemplated a response to Maggie. Instead he dropped the phone into his cut pocket and finished putting on his gloves.
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