Relief washed off him as he parked his bike next to Del’s. Of course Del hadn’t been able to get rid of the tank airbrushing with “Rabid Raiders” prominently displayed in the top rocker. It depicted the same stupid reaper that Taos had nearly had removed from his back. Not that anyone in the club was Irish, it just looked cooler that way. Taos snorted. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought that looked cool.
Taos hadn’t been this nervous in months. His heart hammered as he pushed through the swinging front door, scanning the room. There. His head covered by a bandana, beautiful and boyish as always, sat Taos’s friend, Delano Pruitt.
The two men shook hands and thumped each other on the back in the usual embrace. However, the two friends held it for longer than was normal. Taos had never been happier to see anyone. Del had been his true-blue friend since boyhood. Del’s home life had been even worse than Taos’s, with a drug addict father who beat the kids mercilessly—why Del had lived in the dubious Hartley household, helping Tim to care for his dying father.
Still, because they were cool, they sat opposite each other. Taos removed his leather jacket and instantly Del eyed his forearm.
“Look at you, all lone wolf. You washed your ink,” said Del, nodding. “I expected that, I guess. What about the big one on your back?”
“Gone. You’re not flying colors, either.”
Del grinned. “Nah. I got this lame jean jacket a couple days ago. Just left my colors at home.”
“Guess you had no choice to bring the bike.”
“Sorry about that, man. I didn’t figure the Raiders would mean anything to anyone out here, other than your handlers. Is that who was with you when I left the note?”
“Right. I’ve got a US marshal, a woman, and the guy who’s the local sheriff looking after me.”
“I knew you’d figure out the cartoon.”
“Took me awhile. Good thing you put it in code, because my handlers grabbed it right from me. Sing Ha beer, please,” he told the waitress. “And some of these Happy Little Moons.”
“Well, you probably figured out the mesquite barbecue part first.”
“Right. I knew you wanted to meet me in Mesquite. I thought maybe you meant at the biker bar I’d mentioned.”
“Nope. Too obvious for a crafty dude like me.”
“Right. So I looked at the cartoon. Of course you’d be staying at the Zippy Motel. That was a given. That is some scary fucking cartoon clown, by the way.”
“Tell me about it. That Zippy clown is strange as a dreamer’s mad imaginings.”
Taos quirked a smile at his friend. “Shelley?” Del knew that Taos read Langston Hughes. Taos knew that Del read Percy Bysshe Shelley.
“Shelley. So you figured out the Thai part when the clown started singing about Pad Thai. Which sounds awesome, by the way.”
“Yeah, let’s order some. Well, fucking hell, bro. Here we fucking are. Let’s go get merked.”
“Indeed,” said Del with that old sparkle in his eye. “Raise some hell before I have to go back.”
The waitress set down Taos’s beer, and the two men clinked bottles together in a toast.
“Here’s to you and here’s to me,” said Taos. “Fuck all of those who disagree.”
The men drank to that.
Taos asked about some of their brothers. No one brought up Sirius or the events that had led up to Taos’s protected status.
“Where do your handlers think you are right now?” Del asked.
Taos shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? I was at the sheriff’s house this morning. They’re making me stay there ever since some mysterious biker left me a clown cartoon.”
“So you’ve gone off the grid completely?”
“Not completely. I left my stuff, left Friendly there. They know I’m coming back. I’ll just say I wanted to go get a heat on.”
“But you’re staying at the Zippy Motel, right?”
“Oh yeah, for sure. I’m not driving with a heat on. So how much dough did you bring me?”
Del looked cautiously from side to side. He said in an even lower voice, “Two hundred thirty large.”
Taos raised his eyebrows. “Really?” The men fist bumped. “I forgot we loaned Smack that much for his enterprise.” Taos had loaned Smack equity from his motorcycle repair shop to go and buy some fast food franchise.
“It’s what you loaned plus interest. Can you believe Smack? What’re you going to do with it?”
“Buy a house. You should see the rinky-dink trailer the Marshals Service stuck me in. It’s as flimsy as a rope bridge in Bosnia. I put an offer in on a house last weekend. Two thousand square feet, four bedrooms for my future kids—”
“Future kids? You sound optimistic, Tim.”
“Taos.”
“Taos, whatever. You sound good, like you’re looking to the future. That’s good.”
“Yeah, and I was thinking. I started up a new club. No worries, we’re legit.” Taos drew an invisible banner with his hands. “Check it. The Brothers of Discipline.”
Delano approved. “Awesome.”
“And. I figured if you just get a rental car or something, what’s stopping you from coming over and riding with us? My new brother has a few spare rides—he restores Harleys. There’s some world-class canyon carving just west of here in the Valley of Fire. And yes, it’s as awesome as it sounds. I can tell my brothers that you’re a brother from Montauk, New York, which is where Taos Hopewell is from.”
Taos’s smile faded when he noted how uncomfortable this idea made Del. His old brother said halfheartedly, “Yeah, we can figure out what my new persona is, too. I was thinking about it on the ride out here. I think I’d like to be Roscoe.”
“You’re encouraged to keep at least the same first initial of your old name. You’d have to be Dave.”
“Dave? That’s kind of boring. How’s about Darius? I see that in romance novels all the time.”
“What’re you doing looking at romance novels?”
“My last old lady read them, dumbass. How about Derrick? Or Drake…”
Chapter Eleven
It wasn’t until ten o’clock at night that the BOLO paid off.
Meanwhile, Bettina had been stuck inside of Taos’s flimsy trailer looking for clues. Nothing. Now I see why he dislikes this trailer. It looked pretty good until I had to spend several hours here.
Bettina had gotten Taos’s Facebook password from Skyler. The most scintillating thing she saw was a private message to some guy in Refugio, Texas. The conversation was obviously in code. When they talked about the TV show Rescue Me, they were obviously talking about Rescue, Nevada.
“That must be the guy who showed up here,” Crispin said astutely as he looked over Bettina’s shoulder at the screen. “But why is the fucking question.”
“Yeah. Taos isn’t stupid. I’ve never heard of this Delano guy. He’s not one of the guys we’re seeking an indictment against.”
“Obviously a friend,” said Crispin, going to the other side of the room and looking out the window. “But why would he risk blowing his cover? That desperate to see a friend?”
Bettina watched him. She was deathly afraid she was falling in love with him. Of course, she could never admit that. Crispin was a tough nut to crack. How could a man be so incredibly handsome and not had his ego bust through the ceiling? In fact, quite the opposite of being vain, Crispin was somewhat insecure. He didn’t think highly of himself. This was an attractive trait to Bettina, who had been getting tired of bombastic braggarts whose world revolved around themselves.
Crispin had been so unsure of himself, he hadn’t even talked up his pussy-eating skills. His wife must have been high to have criticized him for his talents in bed. It wasn’t only his tongue-lashing expertise, but when Bettina looked down between her thighs and saw that exquisitely beautiful face working on her, well, it brought her off like a firecracker.
That Crispin wasn’t a player also made Bettina proud. It meant she was special, for
him to break his abstinence for her. She often wondered what unique quality she possessed that attracted Crispin. She knew all about badge bunnies. They could be very persistent, and some of them were young and buxom. Younger and more buxom than she was, that was for sure. What made Crispin gravitate toward a chunky—“curvaceous”—thirtysomething woman like herself? Was it her biting wit, her bravery, the fact she was a fellow lawmaker? Maybe all of the above. And more?
Now she said, “Yeah, and why did they have to meet in person? Obviously Delano is bringing Taos something. There’s something he couldn’t have done over the computer.”
Crispin leaned his forearms on the windowsill. The view was only of the neighboring trailer. “Money. Cash. It’s got to be money.”
“Or some irreplaceable paperwork.” Bettina went to stand next to him. “Something he needs to sign. I’ve seen that happen. I had an adult daughter come to visit a witness once to cajole him into making a new will.”
“Yeah. Maybe someone who wants to be primary beneficiary on his casino holdings.”
“But he was engaged to Naomi. And we know he doesn’t have any kids to bequeath anything to.”
“Maybe a brother?”
“No siblings. That’s why he was taking care of his dying father, remember?”
“Yes. Say.” Crispin turned toward her and spoke in a new, gentle tone. “What exactly did happen with Naomi that day Taos was arrested in the warehouse? If I’m going to literally share a bed with the guy I should know about his past. I know he wasn’t guilty but that’s all.”
“Yeah, well, it’s probably not a good thing to mention in front of Taos. Ever. But yeah. According to Taos’s declaration, Sirius called him to come to the warehouse. Apparently the cartel guys Sirius was making the weapons deal with were demanding more money for the shipment than Sirius was prepared for. He wanted Taos to bring additional cash, but he didn’t tell him for what. In the meantime, Naomi and Taos were trying to meet up. This is the part I don’t know about. The transcript just said that Taos—Tim—had something urgent to tell Naomi. He’d been trying to tell her for days and they kept getting interrupted.”
“Oh, God.”
“Oh God what?”
“Oh God what if he was trying to ask her to marry him?”
“I’ve thought about that. No matter which way you think of it, it just yanks at your heartstrings. So Naomi innocently showed up there first. Wrong place, wrong time. One of los malosos grew impatient with Sirius’s shenanigans and opened fire. Our boy got there just in time to see Naomi running toward him and get caught in the crossfire.”
Crispin didn’t say anything for a long time. He finally turned and looked out the window. “That’s a total balls-up.”
“I think there’s an element of guilt in Taos’s feelings about the whole mess.”
“Right. After all, he invited her there, ignorantly.”
“Exactly. But Sirius had been getting them involved in increasingly more dangerous shit. The club was never about violence or gun running, and suddenly it was. Taos has got a pretrial briefing at my office with the DOJ a week from Wednesday. He’s really very good, very credible, with a great memory for details. Apparently he’s got details to put away not only Sirius but some other high rolling one percenters, other bike gangs Sirius dealt in guns with. Oh, good.” Bettina’s cell chimed, and she glanced at the text. “Good. They found his bike outside a motel in Mesquite. Let’s go. Take my car?”
“You don’t like my truck, do you?” asked Crispin as they locked up Taos’s trailer.
“It’s not that, Crispin. I just wonder why you don’t take a proper sheriff’s vehicle with all the bells and whistles. You seriously throw drunk people in the bed of your truck?”
“Why not? I live here, after all. I’ve got a police radio in my truck, I’ve got flashers and a siren. Why do I need to drive around with ‘sheriff’ painted on my door?”
Bettina grinned at her lover as he got into her passenger seat. “You’re so self-effacing.”
He looked as though he were pouting. “Self-effacing means to downgrade your own unique talents. I have none, so we might more accurately say I’m ‘humble.’”
“No, ‘humble’ means you downgrade your talents. But I agree you’re humble.”
“What talents? It doesn’t take talent to be a sheriff. Just gumption and a certain level of physical fitness.”
“You have those things in spades, mister. I was thinking more of your sexual talents. I don’t know what planet your ex-wife was living on, but already you’ve given me the most explosive orgasms of my entire life and technically I’m still a virgin.”
In the neon glow of a passing grocery sign, Bettina could see that Crispin was abashed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His tiny grin was priceless.
As they left town, silhouettes of sandstone buttes hugged both sides of the highway. The moon glowed in a metallic blue sky the color of her car. Bettina let Crispin off the hook by changing the subject. “You’ll never guess the name of the motel where Taos is crashing. The Zippy Motel.”
Understanding spread over Crispin’s handsome face. “Ah. That explains the clown. And the mesquite barbecue.”
“Whoever this Delano is, he’s got a crafty criminal’s way of looking at things.”
* * * *
Taos had been playing a rousing game of darts with a couple of guys from the Mesquite bike club. The Monday night warriors were easygoing, friendly guys, but they sure were competitive. Of course he’d partnered up with Delano, but Del was more interested in the back warmer hitting on him. It irritated Taos that his brother should pay attention to a groupie he’d never seen again, so he got drunker and threw the darts harder.
He was now missing the board altogether due to the copious amounts of Jack Daniels he’d imbibed. He clapped Del so hard on the shoulder the guy nearly pitched into his face off the tall stool. “This is just like old days, isn’t it?” Taos slurred. “Just like in our old clubhouse.”
“Do you have darts in your new clubhouse?” Del slurred. “You said your clubhouse was in your casino, but now it’s being remodeled, so where’s the clubhouse?”
“Clubhouse is in the back. Get this, Del. I was thinking of turning that part of it into an indoor archery range.” The two men had enjoyed archery as teens, but not since then. They were thirty-four years old! Taos knew it sounded ridiculous, but it was sort of a little dream of his. Why not? They could teach classes to kids.
“Archery range?”
“Yeah. Hear me out. The nearest indoor range is Vegas. There’s an outdoor club in Virgin, but they have nowhere indoors to practice.”
Del grinned lopsidedly. “All the thousands of times a year that it rains.”
“Yeah, well. It’s kind of nice to give people an indoor place to go. I’m high-profile so I don’t want to spend much time actually in the casino, if you know what I mean. I’ve got a manager for that.”
“High profile?” said the groupie airily, twining her arms around Delano’s torso. “What are you guys, some kind of rock stars? Actors?”
Del looked about to agree, so Taos cut that idea off at the quick. He didn’t want any undue curiosity or anyone attempting to google him—not that they’d find a thing on Taos Hopewell other than the generic stuff the feds had planted about him. “No! We’re nobodies. Just a couple of local casino owners.”
Apparently Tiffany liked that part just as much, for she bit Del’s earlobe. “Which casino? Where?”
“The DelHart,” Del started to say, but Taos bashed him with the back of his hand. Del sat up straight, offended. “Why? What did I say? What’s wrong with talking about the DelHart, Taos?”
Taos furiously gulped his whiskey, slamming the heavy glass onto the bar. There was nothing wrong with it. All the attention was just making him nervous, and they had only gotten one motel room. He didn’t feature listening to Del go hard at it all night with Tiffany, and he sure as shit wasn’t in the mood for a thre
esome. He was already committed to one of those.
“Oh, it’s the DelHart? You guys own the DelHart? I drive past that every day on my way to work. When’s it going to open?”
Taos’s mouth was open to answer, but someone else beat him to it. “Never, if this numbskull has his way.”
Taos swiveled his torso to view Bettina. Of course she didn’t display her badge or gun, but her cop-like aura was posted for all the world to see. And behind her stood Crispin, who never displayed a badge, but everyone on the face of the planet knew him. Mesquite was still within his jurisdiction. However, he was now greeting some of the other bikers.
“Hi,” Bettina was saying, leaning so far across Taos that her ample boob brushed his forearm. “I’m Bettina Cruikshank, a friend of Taos’s family. And you are…?”
Tiffany answered. “This here’s Del, half of the DelHart casino in Rescue.”
“Is that so?” A permanent fake smile was glued to Bettina’s face as she confronted Taos. “Your business partner? Isn’t that intriguing? Is that why he came so far to meet up with you, to discuss business strategy?”
“Exactly.” Taos grabbed Bettina’s forearms to hold her steady in case she went off. “That’s why Del is here, Bettina. We’re discussing business strategy. Now why don’t we go somewhere private? We’ve got a room—”
“The Zippy Motel, yeah, yeah, we got it. Very witty, Taos.” Bettina must have been grinding her teeth as she swallowed the urge to tell Taos off for going off the grid. “Yeah, good idea. Let’s go to your room, why not? And Del? Why don’t you leave Miley Cyrus here while we go discuss strategy.”
Taos caught Crispin’s eye on the way out. Bettina looked angrier than a man chopping wood and he hoped Crispin would mediate the situation. But Crispin looked daggers at Taos, too, and Taos had no allies for his cause.
Bettina couldn’t even restrain herself during the short walk to the motel. “Where were Miley’s friends, Taos? You and Del going for a double header later on in the Zippy the Pinhead Motel?”
Owner of a Lonely Heart (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 11