by Nora Kane
Shaw nodded. “I guess I’ve never let that stop me either. Let me know if you need help.”
“I will, thanks.”
“Hey, since you're here, I might as well tell you Ms. Dithers has called several times today looking for you.”
“Ms. Dithers? Last time I talked to her it was Mrs. Dithers.”
“She insisted I call her Ms. when she called,” Ms. Collins said. “Of course, I respect that—I prefer to be called Ms. myself.”
“Can you take her?” Margot asked Shaw. “I don’t know if I want to deal with her right now, if at all.”
Mrs. Dithers had hired Margot to follow her husband, telling her she thought he was cheating on her. It turned out her husband was a bag man for someone in organized crime and Mrs. Dithers knew it. She was just looking to expose him or use the threat of exposure against him in a divorce. Margot didn’t want any part of it.
“She’s pretty insistent it be you.”
“If it’s more nonsense with her husband, I’m just going to tell her no. Even if all this weren’t going on, I don’t know if I’d take her as a client again.”
“If that’s what you want to do, I won’t blame you. You’ve earned the right to pick your clients. We don’t need her business.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Shaw looked over to Ms. Collins, “Call Ms. Dithers and tell her Margot isn’t taking any new clients right now, which isn’t really that far from the truth. If she really needs P.I. services, send her to me and I’ll hear her out.”
“I’ll do it right away, Mr. Shaw.”
Shaw looked at Margot and gestured to his office. “Maybe before you run off, we should talk.”
Margot followed Shaw into the office. He sat behind his desk and she sat down where a client would sit.
“I probably don’t need to tell you how unpopular you are with certain segments of local law enforcement.”
“Certain segments? I thought they all hated me. Except Radcliff. Ames seemed to be coming around too.”
“Well, there’s a lot of new guys who don’t know who you are, but the fact still remains, they’re going to be looking to trip you up even if you’re actually helping.”
“Funny you say ‘new guys.’ The new guy in homicide reached out to me at the hospital. He said if I find anything to give it to him. He also offered to help me ‘clean up’ afterward.”
“He gave you permission to go vigilante?”
“No one likes it when a cop killer goes to trial.”
“No, they don’t, but they usually like to do it themselves. Revenge by proxy isn’t nearly as satisfying. Doesn’t really send the right message, either.”
“I agree, but it’s what he told me.”
“This new guy have a name?”
“Driver. I think he was working with the OC task force before he transferred to homicide.”
“Alright, let me do some checking on him before you start trusting him, okay?”
“You think he might not be on the up and up?”
“Hard to say before I do some checking. It wouldn’t be the first time a cop lied to get somebody to jam themselves up.”
“He’s got no reason not to like me.”
“That could be why they picked him to get close to you.”
Considering that Driver’s partner was Cranston, the cop who hated Margot the most, Shaw’s cynical view of Driver’s intentions made some sense.
“Or I could be way off base and he just sees you as Radcliff’s significant other,” Shaw continued. “I’m just thinking it’d be better to be safe than sorry.”
Margot nodded. “I appreciate that.”
“Do you mind letting me in on your next step?”
“I’m going to pay Marv another visit.”
“You think he knows more than he told you last time?”
“I think a guy like Marv holds something back out of habit.”
Shaw nodded as if he approved and then asked, “After Marv?”
“I figure I’ll talk to Harry Lee. He and Mal worked together back in the day. He might know something.”
“You think he’d know something about Mal you don’t? No one was tighter with him than you in those days.”
“He tried to keep me out of that part. Hell, he did a good enough job I had moments when I thought everybody was wrong about him. I can be naive at times.”
“Nah, you just wanted to believe the best about him. It happens. You think Harry Lee will talk to you?”
“I think I have a better chance than Driver and Cranston.”
“Okay, I guess you do. I don’t have to tell you to be careful, do I?”
“I wish I could tell you no.”
“Then be careful, and be sure to check in with me.”
“I’ll do that.”
Margot went back to her office and called Marv’s old lady. Though he probably didn’t know, if he’d heard about Radcliff and Mal’s possible involvement, he might not be very anxious to talk to her.
Doris answered on the second ring.
“Hey Doris, this is Margot.”
“How did you get my number?”
“I’m a detective, I could get a lot more than that. Is Marv home?”
“Why aren’t you asking him?”
“I thought I’d ask you first.”
“Is this about his no-account brother?”
“It might be. Have you seen him lately?”
“No, I haven’t, but that doesn’t mean Marv hasn’t.”
“Is Marv home?”
“No, he’s not.”
“Where is he?”
“Devil Racer’s clubhouse—the one in town, not the one out in the desert.”
“Last I heard, he wasn’t welcome.”
“They got new leadership, and it was declared the old leadership being mad at you was actually a good thing. They aren’t about to let him be a lieutenant again or anything like that, but he’s welcome to drink at their bar. He spends as much time there as here these days even though with his damaged kidneys, he’s not supposed to drink.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not. He drank and smoked around here too. I love the guy, but not having him around twenty-four-seven is kind of nice.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“That depends on the favor.”
“Don’t tell him I’m coming.”
“As long as you don’t tell him I told you where he was.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
Chapter 6
“How’s your leg, Marv?” Margot asked as she found Marv sitting at the bar at the He Just Left Bar and Grill. He Just Left was a place open to the public, but the owner was a Devil Racer and it was enough of a dive that Devil Racers made up the majority of his customers. Since it was more or less theirs, they referred to it as their clubhouse. Every once in a while, a group of youngsters would think it would be hip and cool to hang out at a real biker bar, but it didn’t take long for them to change their minds. Mostly because if you weren’t in the Devil Racer’s MC, the service was terrible.
It was just barely past lunchtime and even the Devil Racers didn’t start drinking this early. Other than Marv, the only other customers were two younger guys who may or may not have been Devil Racers but looked close enough to the part that they were getting served.
“My leg? Hell, my legs are one of the few things that isn’t fucked up,” Marv said as he took a quick glance back and then went back to his drink. “What the hell do you want, Margot?”
Margot flicked her wrist and the steel telescoping baton extended to its full length and clicked into place.
“Do you want them to stay that way?”
Marv got off his stool, pushed off from the bar, and turned to face her.
“You threatening me? At a Devil Racer’s clubhouse?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I
don’t make threats.”
“What does that mean?”
Margot hit him just above the knee with the baton. He grabbed the bar to keep from falling over, but she stuck the baton under his forearm and swept his arm aside, sending Marv tumbling to the floor.
The bartender and the two other bikers at the bar turned her way, and Margot let the short-barreled S&W .40 slide into her palm. She raised it up and pointed it in the general direction of the two bikers and then swung it to the bartender, who was reaching for something under the bar.
“Come up with empty hands, or I put a bullet in your face.”
He did as she told him.
“Everybody put your hands on the bar where I can see them.”
“You can’t kill us all,” the bartender told her as he put his hands on the bar.
“Maybe I can’t, but I can kill you. Marv worth dying over?”
“It’s not so much Marv but the principle of the matter,” one of the men at the bar said.
“There are no principles at work here. I just need to talk to Marv, and I wanted to be sure he knew the seriousness of the conversation.”
Marv was slowly trying to work his way to his feet when he asked Margot, “What the hell is this all about?”
“Your brother.”
“What did he do this time?”
“He shot Radcliff.”
“Who?”
“The cop I’ve been seeing.”
“Mal shot a cop?”
“Three of them.”
“You sure?”
“If he didn’t, the cops believe he’s involved, and both you and I know that’s enough to make it open season on him.”
“They dead?”
“Two of them are.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“No, but that doesn’t get you off the hook.”
“He’s a homicide detective, right? Dudes like that make plenty of enemies.”
“If Mal didn’t do it then you’ve got no reason not to tell me where he is.”
“I don’t? You hit me in the knee, and I hadn’t even lied to you yet. What are you planning to do to Mal?”
“I’ll give him a chance to tell me he didn’t do it before I shoot him in the face.”
“I don’t know where he is, I really don’t. Honestly, if I see him coming, I’m going to run, or at least I was going to until you busted up my knee.”
“Why would you run from your own brother?”
“You want the reason? Look in the mirror.”
“It’s my fault?”
“I told you where he was staying last time. You think he’s not pissed off about that? If that ‘Viuda Negra’ bitch was actually cartel, they won’t be happy to know I was the rat that fucked everything up. Hell, I’ve let him down twice. I don’t need to tell you how bad it went when I stashed him at the clubhouse.”
Margot had to admit Marv had a point.
“It’s not like Mal and I are close,” Marv continued. “We’ve hated each other since he was born. I’ve done him some favors on account of sharing the same mother and every time I’ve done so, it’s come back to bite me in the ass. Hell, if I knew where he was, I might have called you already hoping you’d take him off my hands once and for all.”
“Damn, Marv,” the bartender said. “That’s a harsh way to talk about blood.”
“That doesn’t make it any less true,” Marv told him.
“You’ll call me if you get a line on him?” Margot asked.
“I would have been more inclined before you clubbed me in the knee.”
“What if I buy you a drink and say I’m sorry?”
“That seems fair,” the bartender said.
“Did anyone ask you?”
“Just saying.”
“Two drinks,” Marv said.
“Fine.”
Marv turned to the bartender and instructed, “Shot of jack and bud chaser.” He then turned back to Margot and said, “That’s one.”
“That’s two by my count.”
“Shot and a beer is one drink in my book.”
“Fine,” she conceded before turning to the bartended. “Can you get me a Maker’s on ice while you’re at it?”
The bartender nodded and started pouring whiskey. Marv sat back down on his stool and Margot took the empty one next to him.
“Sorry about hitting you. I guess I’m a little emotional about this one.”
“The cop means something to you?”
“He means a lot. It doesn’t help it feels like all this is my fault.”
They got their drinks. The bartender also brought Marv an ice pack to put on his knee. Marv and Margot clinked whiskey glasses and then Margot took a sip while Marv polished his off in one gulp.
“You shouldn’t take any responsibility for Mal’s bullshit, ever. Like I just said, the times I felt obligated to help him out didn’t work out so well.”
“That’s kind of my fault too.”
“You didn’t pull the trigger.”
“Brantley was gunning for me when you got shot.”
“Still his fault and not yours, though next time you want to hit me with a metal rod, keep in mind I saved your ass that day.”
“I will. Sorry.”
Marv drank some beer, then added, “Whiskey under the bridge. You said shot, not killed. Your boy going to make it?”
“Too soon to tell.”
“Shooting cops is always bad business. They might get away with it down south, but that shit doesn’t fly up here. I’ll be honest, that doesn’t seem like Cartel. They might be ruthless, but they aren’t dumb.”
“Yeah, which makes me wonder if it was personal.”
Marv shrugged. “You know, it could be something else. I’m not saying that to get Mal off the hook, I’m just saying it because it could be true.”
“I know, but it’d be nice to check Mal off the list either way.”
They drank in silence for a bit. When Marv finished his beer, he noticed Margot was just about done with her whiskey.