Hope to Lie (DeSantos Book 2)

by A. R. Case

  Nothing with the old man ever was. Chris owed him his life. Owed him the money that helped him start the company. Owed him for the hole he left behind. “I was thinking two grand, that way he has incentive to get it back and make a point about stealing from family, too.”

  Tony whistled. “You’re only offering one, right?”

  Chris nodded.

  “You still on the outs with Vi?”

  His brother knew all about Vi and the potential loss of business that would come about if she pushed her father into canceling the contract. He’d hoped she would find someone who would distract her from a vendetta, but since he hadn’t heard from either her or her father, there was nothing he could do but wait. “Probably.”

  Tony glanced up from his thoughts, the question in his eyes quickly turned to amusement. Then the same family dimple in his cheek dipped inward. He laughed at Chris. “Brother, you’re fucked.”

  “Not yet.” He growled.

  That made Tony laugh harder. Chris hadn’t meant it that way and tried to correct his brother, but it only made him laugh harder. It was all he could do to restrain his temper from knocking Tony out of the damn chair. See if he’d laugh then.

  “Knock it off. This is serious shit.”

  His brother wiped his eyes. “I know, it’s just funny, that’s all.”

  “It is not funny.”

  “Yes, it is. Blue hair,” he chuckled. “Never saw that in your future.”

  “I told you, it isn’t like that. Why does everyone think we’re a couple?” Chris threw his hands in the air and spun his chair around so he didn’t have to look at his brother.

  When Tony finally got it under control, there was quiet. The shop noises continued outside but were muted by the walls. It was the main reason Chris took work home. He couldn’t concentrate during the day, knowing there were people doing work right outside of his office. Especially the work he loved. He enjoyed designing the signs, wiring them. Fabricating the parts. Seeing vision lift from paper to measurements, and finally into towering, lighted signs. Each one came from a vision. Sometimes they took on a life of their own, changing from the original plan, becoming greater than he and the customer dreamed. It was his life. His work had opened doors he never dreamed of until he’d gotten away from the life his father had planned out for him. But it seemed twenty years wasn’t enough time to get him far enough from his past life.

  “Crank is your best bet. You can’t go to the clubhouse, even if you knew where it was nowadays. They’d make you fight all of them.” Tony walked it through out loud.

  “I know,” Chris replied.

  “So, call Crank.”

  “If I do and he wants me to show up, what then?”

  “You show up. You know the drill.”

  Chris did, but it didn’t mean he was okay with it. “If he asks for more or he starts pulling me into his shit again?”

  “We’re out. Everyone knows that.” His brother’s eyes fixed on him. “You were the first one out.”

  “I know,” he lied.

  “She worth it?” Tony got up to leave.

  “What do you mean?”

  His brother shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if your brains didn’t leak out on that pavement.” He leaned over, putting both hands on the desk, getting in Chris’s face. “You and I, we’re out of all that shit our dad did. I know something or someone kept me on the fringes, with a good reputation, but I also know you can’t just leave like you did. I’m not stupid. You’ve been paying for twenty years. I also know he’s going to expect you to fight for that damn coat back. Don’t.”

  On that, he wholeheartedly agreed with his brother. “I don’t want it back.”

  “So? Don’t go. So what if you don’t have it. Is it that bad if you lost it?”

  “I don’t want it back, but he stole it from Alexis.”

  “Again, so?” Both of Tony’s hands went up.

  “We protect our own.” It wasn’t just a statement, but a motto. The echoes of it littered his memory.

  “And you said you didn’t give her the coat that way. So why sweat it?”

  “Because it made her a target, and…” He hesitated, trying to figure out why his insides were twisted in knots about the coat, the lies, Alexis. “Somehow it’s connected to Whitehead’s murder, and we know he was connected to that murder over two years ago.”

  For the second time in the conversation, he’d shaken his brother. This time, Tony’s face had paled a bit. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because one of the questions they asked Alexis was where she got the coat. Why would they ask that?”

  “Because they’re damn nosy?”

  “I think it’s the legacy patch. Alexis said Ghost knew it was my coat because of it. Do you think the cops know about those?”

  “Only you and Ghost and…” Tony snapped his fingers a couple times, “…what’s his name cared about those. Well, Dad did, too, but he’s dead, so it’s not like he’ll kick your ass anymore for losing it.”

  Chris nodded. “I think you hit the nail on the head there. I’m stuck thinking I should get it back because he beat it into our heads so badly. If it were Susan’s would you try to get it back?” Susan was Tony’s wife.

  “I’d almost kill someone for it. And she’d tell me not to, so I’d have to figure out a way.”

  “And then you’d call Crank, and do whatever he asks, wouldn’t you?”

  He nodded. “Our father fucked us up.”

  ~~~~~~~

  Two hours later

  Chris pulled Tony’s truck off the local highway and onto a narrow, unpaved road. He passed through the gate and drove another quarter mile between pines that brushed up against the sides of the truck. The road was rutted, and there were lingering patches of snow and slush in places.

  “Why did I need to come?” Alexis had been quiet for most of the ride. She smelled like the dogs and had been exuberant in their praises. That wore off once they exited the freeway and drove deeper into the pines.

  “Apparently, someone told Crank about you. He’s curious.”

  Someone, he hoped hadn’t been Ghost, but another member who still owed some allegiance to the current president, and by proxy, Crank.

  “And this guy we’re seeing, he can help?”

  Chris glanced at her through the corner of his eye. “Don’t know.” It was the truth. How much power the old man still had over the various clubs was a question mark. He’d stepped down at least ten years ago. The Feds had been very close to figuring things out, so it was time to retire. But men like Crank couldn’t just let go. It was like an old lion. If they just gave up, they’d get beaten, and cast out to starve. If they beat up the right up-and-coming member, they kept control even after their strength waned. If they kept food coming in, they stayed. Crank knew how it worked. He kept things flowing between chapters. He kept them from imploding when things got too hot. He helped some, creating a whole new generation of loyal followers who would insulate him from losing his place. He laid down the law when it came down to protecting the club from the outside world. Hell, he’d made the laws. And so far, every move he’d made had kept him alive. It did not make him safe, nor did it ease Chris’s worries. Eventually, he’d lose.

  “That’s not very reassuring, considering we’re dealing with criminals.”

  “Not all of the Brigands are criminals.” He lied. It came easy. It was a very old lie. Maybe it was partly true. There had to be at least one member out there to prove him right.

  Crank’s dogs met the truck. Two young adults and an older male circled the truck, barking. Another old one, female, hung back. Chris didn’t have to look to know it was Snick. She was a fixture at Crank’s. The others came and went as Crank bred them, trained them, and sold them. But the pack leader was a dominant female. She hated everyone except Crank. Alexis was
watching out the window. “They’re beautiful.”

  Chris snorted. “Don’t make any sudden moves.”

  Alexis frowned at him. “Duh.”

  Crank limped into view. Instead of walking off the porch to call off the dogs, he whistled. The three circling the truck danced back to him and plopped down by his feet. The female moved in front of him and did not sit. No order by Crank would stop her if she thought he was in danger. However, the not sitting thing, that was new. Crank put a hand on the wooden column that braced the roof. He squinted at Chris in the truck.

  “The female in the front is named Snick. The goofy one laying on Crank’s feet is Fritz, he’s the senior to the other Fritz you met today.”

  “Do you know the other two names?”

  “No. They change out.” There was nothing more he could say to prepare her. He got out of the truck. The female growled, which was mild for her. The three on the porch all perked up their ears. Fritz got up and started panting, tongue lolling to one side, and his butt started wiggling. His black tail wagged quickly, hitting Crank in the bad leg. There was a quick command, and the dog sat. It didn’t stop the tail, but at least it wasn’t hitting his owner in the leg anymore.

  Chris walked around and opened Alexis’s door. She stepped out and the female rushed the truck. Chris stepped in between at the same time as Crank called out.

  Alexis stood as tall as she could, hand down in a fist. The dog bypassed Chris and circled her for a sniff or five. Snick smelled the closed hand and sat.

  “Your brother left beef jerky in the truck. Hope that’s okay?” Alexis said it loud enough so Crank could hear.

  He started laughing. “Go ahead.”

  Alexis opened her hand and Snick gobbled the tiny piece. Then waited, hoping for more. Instead of giving her any eye contact or more treat, Alexis began to walk toward Crank. “Hi.”

  “Hello, Little Blue.”

  Chris moved to catch up, which was easy because she had stopped in her tracks.

  “How do you know her?” Chris sidestepped Fritz who had popped up to get petted. He did, however, reach down and scratch the dog’s ears.

  “Little birdie told me all about a certain girl with blue hair, who had the prince’s coat.”

  “Not that nickname.” Chris groaned.

  Crank laughed. “How’d you know about the jerky?” He asked Alexis.

  “Kevin told me.”

  Chris did a double-take. “Kevin, my security guy?”

  Alexis nodded. “While you and your brother were locked in the office, he and I talked dogs.”

  “Kevin’s a good sort.” Crank whistled again and opened the storm door. The dogs streamed into the house, except Snick, who was sniffing Alexis’s pockets. “Snick!” He motioned at the dog, who finally followed him in. Chris and Alexis were the last ones in, Chris closed the door behind them.

  “You come to me for your coat?” He said to Chris as the commotion went on around them.

  Chris glanced at Alexis. “It wasn’t just the coat, it was her phone, the keys, the inconvenience.” He pulled his shoulders back.

  Crank picked up a cane propped against a wall, then walked them into the main room. “You’re not usually stupid.”

  “It’s been nice visiting, we’ll leave now.” Chris took Alexis’s elbow to leave.

  “You sit.” He motioned at Chris. “You go get me a beer, if this one hasn’t lost all his brains, there should be some in the back of the truck.”

  Chris frowned.

  “You got a problem with your girlie getting an old man something to wet his whistle?” Crank narrowed his eyes at Chris, reading his frown as a tell.

  “You are ordering her around.” Chris tried to keep the emotion out of his voice.

  “You been on the outside too long, boy?”

  Alexis’s eyes were pinging back and forth between Crank and Chris. The latter noticed. “Kitchen’s that way, but the beer’s in the truck. Bring it in.”

  “I’m not your servant.”

  “Cook and clean, remember?”

  Her mouth dropped open, and then she shut it with a snap, but as she did, a huff escaped. “Fine.” She stopped at the door and a wicked smile crossed her face. “Snick!” she called.

  Sure enough, the dog followed her out.

  “Well, I’ll be dipped in shit.” Crank straightened up in his chair to see out the window. “She’s good with dogs. Ya gonna marry her?”

  “Crank.”

  “You gave her your legacy coat, for fuck’s sake. You’re practically engaged.”

  “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “You’re getting old, son.”

  Chris laughed. “Not as old as you.”

  “Fucking tell me about it.” He picked up the cane from where he’d propped it. “Can’t even fucking ride when it gets cold out now.” He sobered up. “Before she gets back, you were smart coming here instead. I want to warn you about messing with Ghost. He’s planning a takeover. it will be war come Spring if he can’t get control. And I think he’s got someone on the outside calling shots. And they got money.”

  The door opened, and Alexis carried in a case of beer. She huffed again as she walked past Chris.

  “Bring me a cold one from the fridge!” He called out.

  “God damned misogynist!” she called back. “Sir? I’ll get yours as well, so I don’t have to make two trips.”

  “She called me sir, fuck me.” Crank chuckled. “You do that, Little Blue!”

  She came back out, carrying two beers. “Anything but that name, please?”

  “You got a problem with it?” Crank’s tone deepened and developed an edge to it.

  “That creep called me that.” Her voice was quiet.

  “Ghost?” Chris asked.

  Alexis nodded.

  “Good enough. We’ll find a different one to stick.” Crank said, oddly capitulating. “You mind taking them all on a run outside?” He motioned to his leg and then the cane. “I can’t get them moving like I used to.”

  She glanced at Chris. “You need time to talk, right?”

  He nodded.

  “What’s all their names?”

  “You know the bitch, Snick. That’s Bark, and the other is Bite. The stupid, fat one here is Fritz.” Crank patted the last one on the head.

  She called all four by their names and they followed her out.

  Once she was safely away, and the door shut, Chris rejoined Crank. “Why Spring?”

  “Shipments pick up. Ghost doesn’t like the money trickling in. He wants to turn the tap. He’s lined up a new supplier so he can pretend he’s a big-time dealer.”

  “Meth?”

  Crank shook his head. “Pharmas. So far it’s been Adderall and X with a little Fentanyl and even some Viagra.”

  “Seriously, Viagra?”

  Crank shrugged. “Maybe he’s getting old, like you.”

  Chris didn’t dignify his barb with an answer. “He sell north of here?”

  “Like Mays Landing?”

  “New York City.”

  “Son, you know you can’t move in the city. Top three got that shit shut down tight.”

  “His supplier wouldn’t be out of there, would he?”

  “You afraid the society crowd you run with are going to cross paths with his?” Crank asked.

  Chris shifted in his chair.

  “Ha! Don’t worry. Philly as far as I know.”

  “Wouldn’t that get him in trouble with Redd?”

  “You’d think. Or maybe he’s setting up a deal with Redd. Or maybe there’s already a deal.”

  “You don’t know?” That would be new. Crank had ears everywhere.

  “What I do know is, as soon as the good weather hits, demand goes up. Ghost wants power and not just the presid
ency he’s been working so hard to get. He wants to be a shot caller. Hell, he wants to be me, and he ain’t got the brains for it. If it gets to that point, someone else will get an idea they can do it all, too. Boom, internal fighting and all that shit. And it all falls down by Summer.”

  “Does he know how much heat that will bring?”

  “I don’t think he cares.”

  “You coming out of retirement to set him straight?”

  Crank indicated his cane. “Now why the fuck should I do that?”

  “It’s bad for everyone. I mean didn’t they learn their lesson in the nineties? You make what, a sixty percent markup on that shit, if you’re lucky, once expenses and all the other crap goes down. It’s not worth the risk.”

  “I remember you laying out the math a long time ago. About the time you started taking all those college courses. Still, don’t know how you figure sixty when the markup is three hundred.”

  “Loss, inventory, logistics, payoffs, overhead…” He let the sentence trail off.

  Crank wheezed in laughter. “I hear ya. Damn if you aren’t right about that shit. I need someone like you doing the national’s books.”

  Chris shook his head. “It wouldn’t work. I’m on the outside. You’d be better off handing everything to Redd and saying, ‘fuck it.’”

  “You know I can’t do that. Too many long memories.”

  Yeah, Chris knew why that wouldn’t happen. Memories led to too many questions.

  He could hear Alexis outside. He peeked out the window to see her playing fetch with tennis balls. There were five at her feet, and she was almost perpetually pitching them out across the racetrack that took the better part of the compound. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “How you figure?”

  “This shit has gone down before. There’s always some asshole moving up. This sounds like it is going outside your control. Why?”

  “You’ll know why by Spring.”

  “Spring.”

  “Or before. Frankly, Ghost can go fuck himself, but I don’t think his dick’s long enough. That’s why he’s always such an asshole.” Crank punctuated his comment with a tap of his cane.