“Then you’re all set.” Betty smiled.
“Thank you,” Keily replied, forcing a smile in return.
Quickly, she exited the diner and walked straight to her car. Opening the back door, she situated Emily’s seat back into the base before closing the door and opening her own. As she climbed behind the wheel, she glanced back toward the diner to see that both men were sitting at the table she’d just left, intently staring in her direction. She had no idea who the gentlemen were, but they gave Keily an uneasy feeling.
Starting her car, she looked both directions before backing out into the street and pulling away. She gripped the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles had turned white, and she didn’t loosen them until the diner, and the two men, were well out of sight of her rearview.
Heading north, Keily decided she’d take Beth up on her offer and check out the house. After all, what could it hurt? Plus, she’d be near Jameson and could stop in to pay him for the extra work he had done on her car.
Chapter Ten
Betty
She’d seen the two gentlemen come in. Newcomers. That’s what they were. At almost seventy years old, Betty had lived in Briar Prairie all her life. Married and raised six kids – all without ever leaving. She knew everyone in Eagle County, everyone except the two men who had run poor Keily out of her diner.
Betty’s eyes narrowed on them as she watched them from the kitchen, hidden behind the corner of the wall. Grabbing her cellular device, she shot a text message to Tinker.
Betty: Two men just walked into the diner. Don’t know them from Jack.
Tinker: What are they doing?
Betty: Scaring off one of my customers! Frightened the girl plum silly!
Tinker: What customer?
Betty: Keily Jo Hopper. Poor girl.
Tinker: Scared her? What do you mean?
Betty explained to Tinker what had happened. She told him about the men coming into the diner and bypassing her to head right toward Keily. Betty even told him about the look of strain on the poor girl's face as she tried to hurry out of the place.
Betty: She even left without her receipt. How is she supposed to manage her finances if the dear girl forgets how much she spent?
Tinker: Are they still there?
Betty: Yep. Want me to poison their food?
Tinker: No! I’m on my way.
Betty: Okay. Drive safe, dear.
Betty put her phone back on the counter, and straightening her blouse, she walked back out into the diner; and with a smile pasted on her face, she moved around the tables and headed for the two men in the back.
“What can I get ya?” She smiled brightly.
“Some information,” said one man.
“And some coffee,” said another.
“Okay, let me get that coffee for you first.”
Betty quickly made her way to the counter and poured two steaming cups of black coffee into mugs and rethought the poisoning offer. But then she decided against it and just carried them back to the waiting guest.
Setting them on the table, she readied to take their order. “What else, gentlemen?”
“The woman who just left,” the man said. “What can you tell me about her? Is she from around here?”
Betty knew the man’s game. He was trying to get her to think he was interested in Keily. Romantically. But the look in his eyes told her a different story. Whatever these men wanted with that girl – wasn’t good.
“I don’t know much about her.” Betty shrugged. “Never seen her before today.”
“Really?” the other man asked, not sure if he trusted her or not.
“Yep.” Betty shrugged again, not caring if they believed her.
Both men picked up their mugs and thanked her before taking sips. She walked away from the table, with an even greater sense of uneasiness. She stood behind the counter, doing her best to ignore the men who now had their heads together, whispering back and forth.
She chanted and prayed, over and over again, that Tinker would get there before the guys decided to leave. Currently, Betty’s greatest fear was that they’d leave and follow Keily. It wasn’t like she could stop them from leaving town to try to track the girl down. Betty knew if she intervened, it would just draw suspicion, and that would make things harder on Tinker.
But Betty couldn’t allow anything to happen to Keily. Many years ago, while on her death bed, Kelly Hopper had made Betty promise to always look out for Keily. And Betty intended to keep that promise, especially now that the girl was back in town.
She heard the rumbling of bikes before they ever started to pull up in front of the diner. One by one, seven of them backed into parking spaces along the street, and she finally breathed a sense of relief. Betty glanced toward the two men in the back and could sense their uneasiness.
Good, she thought to herself. Get a taste of what you caused that poor girl!
She smiled as the bell above the door rang and several members of the Devil’s Henchmen MC – Sledge, Reaper, Diesel, Tuck, Gunny, Joker, and finally Tinker – walked in.
“Hey, boys!’ Betty said, walking out from behind the counter.
The club turned their backs toward the two men in the back, blocking their view of Betty. She looked at Tinker and nodded her head toward the back. Tinker acknowledged her nonverbal cue by slapping Tuck on the back as he asked, “Betty, we’re starving. How about a slice of the award-winning cobbler for each of us?” followed by a wink.
“Seven cobblers coming right up!” Betty called as she left the dining room and went to the kitchen.
“What’s going on out there?” her husband asked.
“Trouble, George,” Betty told him. “Big trouble.”
They both stared at each other for a moment. Betty didn’t know what the guys were going to do, but she prayed it wouldn’t end in her diner being trashed. This place was her livelihood. It was all she and George had.
“Sledge and the boys will take care of us,” George said, pulling her into his arms.
Betty nodded. “I know.”
And she did.
Those boys, for being bikers, were a good lot. Helpful, every one of them. And they each held a special place in her heart. Especially Sawyer – or Gunny as the club called him. But she was biased, considering Sawyer was her baby boy. Well, baby was probably the wrong word to use seeing as he was dang near forty. A retired Gunnery Sergeant in the US Marine Corps, he was now the Treasurer for the DHMC. And Betty couldn’t be prouder of him.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Betty and George busied themselves by cutting seven pieces of cobbler and topping each with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a cherry. Then, after she piled them all on a tray, she carefully carried them out to the dining room – half expecting the two men in the back to be bloodied on the floor.
To her surprise, everything was still how she’d left it. Betty had no idea what was going on, but when the Devil’s Henchmen MC asked for local help – she knew it had to be something big. After all, these guys saved the world, daily. So, if the fight was in their own yards, it had to be something wild. Which brought on its own new set of fears. Because nothing exciting ever happened in their small town – until now.
Chapter Eleven
Tinker
He and the guys sat at two tables.
Tinker sat with his back toward the other men, trying to catch any bit of information they were throwing out. Even though some of the guys were talking, he knew they were splitting their time, listening in, too.
When they’d all walked in, Tinker had looked around the diner. He’d eyed up both men in a matter of seconds, as did the rest of the guys. He knew what they were wearing, what they looked like, and even which direction the black haired guy’s hair was parted. The other guy was bald, head shaved to the scalp.
As he’d ridden to the diner, he’d wondered if the guys were the same two that had been hiding in the bushes outside of Keily’s house, but now, Tinker knew they were. The size, shape, and build a
ll matched. All they had left to figure out, was who they were, who they worked for, and why they were after Keily. The fact that Patrick Dean was able to hire a hit from prison wasn’t sitting well him, or any of them, for that matter.
As he and the other Henchmen waited for Betty to bring their cobblers, they continued to talk and carry on as if they weren’t there to scope out the two new guys in town. Tinker watched as the guys grew quiet. He made eye contact with Gunny just as the two men approached their table and passed by on their way up to the counter. Tinker’s eyes tracked them as they went.
Tinker held his phone in his hand, pretending that he was scrolling through his social media. Again, he looked each man up, then down. Taking in any detail that he may have initially missed.
“I’ll be right there,” Betty called, carrying the tray of cobbler.
She quickly dished out everyone’s plates and after the boys thanked her, she headed over to the counter. The guys dug in and a round of Mmm’s went around the table. Betty made the best cobbler in three counties. And she knew it, too.
As soon as the two men paid for their drinks and left the diner, Tuck was the first to break his silence.
“What do you – “
Tinker raised a hand to silence him.
Standing, he quietly walked over to the table the men had just left and began to look around it. He checked the napkin holder. Looked around the windowsill. Felt beneath the edges of the table. He felt for any type of listening device. After all, if he were looking for information on someone, that’s what he would have done. So, he assumed the other men had done the same. Planting a device in a public place, out of view, would be the best way to get information. People often talked way too much when they thought nobody was listening.
As he felt around on the far side of the table, closest to the window, Tinker’s hand landed on something hard, so he laid down across the bench and looked under the table. Taped beneath the tabletop, he spied the tiny, square device.
It was a listening bug.
He sat up and signaled the boys by tapping his ear. Whatever was said in the diner, the nameless men would hear.
“I need to take a leak,” Gunny said, thumbing toward the kitchen.
“Hurry up,” Sledge replied. “We need to get going. Got work to do.”
Silently, Tinker walked back to the table and sat down. Pulling out his cell, he typed a message: Cheap bug recorder. It can be bought at just about any audio shop. Meaning, there would be no real way to trace it.
Sliding the phone into the middle of the table, he allowed everyone to read what he typed before pulling it back and deleting the message.
Tinker heard Sledge’s heavy sigh. Making eye contact with the man, he knew his president wanted to explode. He saw the anger flash in the other man’s eyes. His uncle was normally an easy-going man, but when women and children were involved, it was something completely different. It was like a switch was flipped inside of him. Tinker supposed that was the way it was for the lot of them. None of them ever liked seeing the most vulnerable of their species in danger.
As Gunny walked back to the table, he eyed Sledge and gave a quick nod. “Let’s roll,” Sledge called, standing and heading for the door. As he passed the counter, Sledge handed Betty a hundred-dollar bill and pulled her in for a quick hug, kissing the top of her head.
They all loved Betty. She and her husband, George, meant a lot to the club.
Each of the guys followed suit, giving Betty a gentle hug and kiss before exiting the diner. As soon as they were outside, all the Devil’s Henchmen’s heads seemed to swivel, looking for any sign of the two men that had just left. They knew which direction they had gone, but it wouldn’t have been hard to flip around the block and double back.
“Let’s go,” Sledge ordered, walking over to his bike.
Nobody said a word as they all followed. Firing up their bikes, one by one, they pulled away from the curb and headed back toward the club. Nothing would be said until they were within the safety of its walls. If those two men were brave enough to plant a listening device inside the diner, they could just as easily place one out on the street – behind the newspaper stand, inside a potted plant, or even one of the decorative street lamps.
The guys sped through town and as they hit the city limits sign, Sledge dropped a gear, twisted on the throttle, and shot ahead of the pack. It didn’t take long for the rest of the club to follow, including Tinker. Even though he’d just had a bike accident, it didn’t stop him from loving the feel of the powerful beast between his legs. Tinker was a biker, born and bred. It was in his veins. One accident wouldn’t change that. So, like everyone else, Tinker twisted on the gas and shot forward. He leaned into one curve and then another. The air blew past his face and the freedom he felt soothed his tired soul.
There was nothing like riding a motorcycle. It was a freedom unlike any other.
Ahead, the guys started to slow down. Tinker downshifted his bike and then used the hand signal to those in the back to let them know they were slowing down. It wasn’t something he needed to do; it was just an old habit that he’d yet to break.
They each turned into the parking lot for Evan’s Automotive and continued down the gravel road that ran beside it until they pulled into the bigger parking lot for the Devil’s Henchmen Clubhouse. The clubhouse was an old school, that had since been completely remodeled. Out front, waving from the flagpole was the American flag and then right below it, the Devil’s Henchmen MC flag. The flag was simple – black with a white skeleton riding a Harley, with the club name below. It was the same design on the back of their cuts, and the tattoo that they each carried. Parking their bikes, Tinker and the others climbed off and headed straight inside.
Unlike other MC’s, there were no bars or pool tables the moment you walked in. In the DHMC clubhouse, you first entered what resembled a sitting area, or living room. A few couches, chairs, and a TV dominated the room. It looked more like a home than an old school. But that’s what happens when you gut a place and rebuild it to fit your own needs. Behind the living area was a massive kitchen. Big enough for all the Devil’s Henchmen, their families, and probably the entire town. They’d kept most of the original cafeteria’s structure.
Down one hallway were the apartments for the club officers, and Sledge’s office, along with the club’s chapel; and the other hallway led to member’s apartments, a gym, an indoor swimming pool, a few guest rooms, and a playroom. The playroom had been added for Tinker, his sister, Kailyn, and all his cousins when they were little. Now, it was used to help entertain any children that the DHMC happened to rescue until the proper authorities could get there and take over.
For a place as big as theirs, it took a lot to keep it running and livable. It required the help and finances of everyone. Nobody got a free ride. Tinker owned the auto-repair shop and Lucky’s Bar and Grill. Tuck was a carpenter and owned Tucker Construction. Doc was a real doctor, a general surgeon to be specific. Ink and Sparo both co-owned a tattoo and piercing shop in Dallas. And Joker was the executive chef and owner of an extravagant restaurant in Fort Worth. He’d even went to and graduated from culinary school. Each of them was successful. And they all contributed money to keep the club going. The women in the club managed the day to day things. Beth, Rachel, and Amber, Tinker’s mother, saw to the finances of the club. They ordered what was needed and ensured everyone was taken care of. Tinker’s sister, Kailyn, and Joker’s sisters, Stephanie and Ava, helped around the club, but they also had their businesses. Stephanie was an accountant. Ava was a social worker. And Kailyn, well she wasn’t sure what she was doing with her life; kinda like Gunny.
As the guys headed down the hallway, Beth stopped out of her office. “Sledge?” she called. “Can I speak to you for just a moment?”
“Y’all go in,” Sledge said to the group. “I’ll be right there.” Tinker and the others entered the Chapel as Sledge headed to see what his wife wanted.
Tinker collapsed in his c
hair. He was tired down to his bones. He hadn’t slept much since his bike accident and now with everything revolving around Keily, there just weren’t enough hours in the day for proper sleep practices. Eyeing Joker and Sparo, Tinker could tell they hadn’t slept much either.
The door opened and as Sledge walked in, everyone else took their seats.
Sledge banged the gavel and called the meeting to order. “I’d like to first inform everyone that the rental house at the beginning of the street is no longer available,” Sledge announced.
Several of the faces around the room, including his, looked confused. What did that have to do with anything? he wondered. They had more important stuff to discuss after all.
He was about to speak up when Sledge’s next words stopped him. “Ms. Keily Hopper will be taking residence effective immediately.”
“What?” Gunny and Tuck said in unison.
“Our job just got a lot easier, boys,” Reaper commented, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.
“How did that happen?” Gunny inquired.
“Beth overheard Keily talking to your ma at the diner.” Sledge shrugged. “Not knowing we were keeping tabs on Keily, Beth offered her the house, seeing as she’s on a bit of a downward plunge. Keily accepted. Signed the rental agreement and all. Moves in tomorrow. Now onto other business.” Sledge placed both of his elbows on the table as his eyes narrowed a fraction. “Who the fuck are these dudes and what the hell are they really doing in our town?”
That was the million-dollar question… Tinker thought.
“I’m betting military,” Gunny said.
“I don’t think so,” Diesel chimed in. “Well, maybe the bald guy, but not the other.”
“Why do you say that?” Joker asked.
“Because you don’t get out of the military just to dress like a bitch,” Diesel replied. “Did you not see that blingy ass watch on his wrist? Damn thing would tell aliens his location if the sun hit it exactly right.”
Tinker had to agree there. They could speculate all day, but that wouldn’t give them answers. Turning to Sledge, he asked, “Have you heard from Williams? Does he have anything to help us?”
Tinker's Dilemma: Devil's Henchmen MC Next Generation, Book One Page 7