by A. R. Case
“Crank, I’m not the right person. Do you know I’ve got a fed breathing down my neck?”
“This ain’t illegal. All this shit is owned outright and in legitimate accounts. I need a businessman to run things, make a profit, and see it’s distributed right. I want a solid company, not a god-damned clusterfuck. You got a fancy degree, and I got the cash.”
“And when guys like Ghost think they can run it better than I can, and decide to fuck with me, what then?”
“Run it well enough and they won’t fuck with you. I know you’re smart enough.”
Chris frowned. “I have a full-time job running the sign shop.”
“Then delegate some shit, like I’m doing right now. Aren’t you the one who constantly harped on diversification?”
He looked at the old man. Years ago he’d been no different. If Crank had one flaw, it was that he didn’t take no for an answer. “What about leaving it to your daughter?”
The rubber end of the cane pounded on the floor, once. “No.”
“Why?”
“Her mother made damn sure she hated me.”
Chris rubbed his forehead. “She could come after your estate after you pass.”
“None of that shit-talk. I ain’t dead yet. And it ain’t an estate, it’s a corporation. She can’t get none of it.”
“You really hate her that much?”
“Hate has nothing to do with it.” He rubbed his leg. “It’s about folks putting on airs, looking down their noses at me, us. You may be blind to this, but I don’t think you are. You date those society bitches and they are all hot and heavy to get dirty with the biker, but bring you home to mother and they get weird and dump your ass.”
Chris lived through exactly what Crank was saying.
“Your girl, out there, she’s one of the good ones. Doesn’t look down on anyone. Even an old bastard dyin’ of cancer. If you won’t help me, I’m giving her everything, and then it’s your problem anyway. At least until she’s free of your ass.” He glared at Chris, daring him to argue with him further. When Chris didn’t argue, he continued. “You owe me.”
That was true. “Nothing illegal.”
“Absolutely nothing illegal.”
Chris thought about it. “What’s your business plan?”
“Make money.”
Crank grinned like it was a real answer. “Seriously, what kind of company are you planning? Property management, construction, manufacturing, security?”
“Hell if I know.”
“Maybe not a corporation then, you’d be better off with…”
“See, I knew I got the right person. You know shit.”
“Crank…”
“Son, I ain’t getting younger, and I sure as hell ain’t taking this shit with me. I’m trying to get things tied up before the vultures come picking at my bones. I trust you to make money on it and divide it up right. Redd’s in. So is Lizard. Ghost is making a play for Hammer’s chapter, so Hammer is out, and we all know Ghost is a fuck-up so no options there, which is a shame being your dad’s charter and all.” He paused. “I’m still talking to the boys from Ohio.”
Chris groaned. “How much are we talking?”
Crank smiled. “You ain’t going to believe it.”
~~~~~~~
A bit later in Atlantic City
They pulled into the gated lot of the building. Mills got out of a car he’d parked on the street and met them at the door.
“Hi Chris, Alexis.”
Chris tucked Alexis under his arm, away from Mills, as he swiped the electronic lock with the fob. “You finish checking the coat?”
“No, those things take time. Do you steal all his coats?” he asked Alexis, who was wearing Chris’s parka. It hung on her but was a damn sight warmer than the tiny fake leather coat she owned.
“Go inside. Here.” Chris detached the key from the fob. “I’ll knock when I’m done here.”
“No fighting.” She smiled at him and added a kiss for good measure.
“What do you want, Mills?”
“An introduction. Seems you’re visiting Crank a lot.”
“I told him about you.”
“Yeah? What did he say?”
Chris swiped the fob again to unlock the door which had shut behind Alexis. He waited until he’d stepped through and the door was swinging shut with Mills on the other side. “He said, go fuck yourself.”
The same prospect he’d seen before was sitting in the lobby, on one of the funky striped couches. Chris glanced at the guard manning the desk. It was one of the younger ones.
“Prince.” The kid stood up. He had a large document box. “I’m supposed to make sure you get this.”
“Which location are you with?”
“Philly.”
Interesting, Redd’s crew. “Redd look over the box before you brought it here?”
“He’s the one who gave me it.”
“You look in it?”
The kid’s eyes darted to the left. “No man.”
Chris wanted to punch him, but if he did, the kid would go right back to Redd with a story. There was only so much weight Crank’s word held, and this wasn’t the time to test it. “Thanks.” He checked under the lid. If the quick glance at the folder tabs was accurate, the files went back at least ten years. Redd was trusting him with a lot.
His father had a box like this. His mother had brought it to the hospital when his father died. She begged Chris to look at the contents and tell her they were going to be okay.
It was a box of lies. Just like this one would be. Just like the one in his trunk with Crank’s lies.
Two hours later, Chris returned from a trip to the office. He moved Crank’s box, Redd’s box, and the folders he’d retrieved from the safe at the shop, to the flat surfaces in the living room. Alexis was on her laptop, retreating to the couch because Chris had taken over as much space as possible.
“I’m not expected to clean around all your junk, right?”
“It will be packed up before I go to bed.”
“So, like two a.m. or some shit like that?”
He looked up at her tone. She had headphones in her ears but had heard him just fine. For a brief second, he remembered an argument between his parents. His father had ended it with a curt, “It’s business, not yours, so shut up about it.” His mother capitulated. Alexis would not be like that. Nor did he want her to be. “Crank and the other chapters are pooling resources to diversify.”
She glanced up. “Diversify. Interesting word choice.”
“I’m going through the papers to be certain it’s all legal.”
Her face softened. “And if it isn’t?”
“I return it and let them know what I found.” Then I do my damnedest to forget it. He didn’t say the last part out loud.
“Why don’t you have a lawyer do that?”
It was a good question. One Chris should have asked, but he was his father’s son. “If it gets to that point, I will.”
“Should I distract you?” She wiggled an eyebrow at him and tugged her shirt up slightly.
He smiled. “It would be better than sorting through old files, I’m certain. But I need to get this done so I’m not up to two a.m.”
“Your loss.” She fiddled with the laptop and concentrated on something there. Soon her head was bouncing to a beat.
Chris took it as a hint to get working. About an hour into Crank’s box, he whistled.
“What is it?” Alexis was close, holding a plate with a sandwich on it.
He picked it up and took a bite.
“Hey! That’s mine. Get your own.” She took it from him and licked it.
“You’re worse than my brother,” he said with a half-full mouth.
“Gross. What did you find?”
“Cra
nk owns properties here in Atlantic City.”
“Yeah? Where?”
That was what made Chris react. In the listings, there was a pack of old apartment buildings, a couple of businesses, and a derelict hotel. But the deed in his hand was part of the same section Hammond wanted to develop on. Adjacent to the planned complex was a parking lot, with ocean access. The lot was owned by Crank’s company. Hammond mentioned not being able to reach the owner. That made sense, as Crank didn’t believe in talking to anyone not related to the club.
He showed Alexis the address.
“That’s only a few blocks from the Cave.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if he owns the parking company on that lot or leases the land out. I’ll need to check that out, too.” He made a note to check into that.
“You should eat.”
He looked at the half-devoured sandwich. “You licked that one.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. When you said cook and clean, you meant it, didn’t you?”
“Please?”
“Aw, magic words and all. How can I resist?” She fluttered her eyelashes, mocking him.
“It’s okay.” He checked his watch, then started taking the sorted piles and putting them back into their respective boxes. “I’ll make one.” He stopped when he picked up the deed for the property in the city. Hammond would pay hundreds of thousands, if not over a million, for the lot given the location. Ellis would be interested, too. Under it were more deeds. One was for a lot, valued at nineteen thousand when sold, no buildings. He checked the address and wrote it down. There were four other deeds in the stack. Most of them were acquired almost a decade or longer ago. One of them was Crank’s property. He tucked that one back with the others after checking the value and details. The two boxes and the contents from his father’s files, plus the envelope Crank had originally given him, went under his desk. It wasn’t safe here. He’d have to move it back to the office in the morning.
Alexis nudged his arm.
“Here.” She held a plate with a sandwich and a couple of pickles on it. “I didn’t lick this one.”
He picked it up but paused to check her eyes. Sure enough, there was a glint of humor. “That’s not funny.”
Her face cracked into a smile. “Honest, I didn’t. I swear.”
“On your band gear?” He motioned toward her laptop on the couch.
She held up a hand and said, “On my gear, I swear I didn’t mess with your sandwich.”
“Or the pickles?”
She grabbed one from the plate and took a bite. “Or the pickles.”
“That one is all yours.” He pulled the plate from her so she couldn’t set it back on his plate.
Chapter 15 — A gold mine
Tuesday, over a week later
Alexis came bouncing into the shop. She didn’t stop, even after pulling his door shut. “Guess what, guess what, guess what!”
“You decided to become a nun?”
“No, I got an audition!” She bounced on her toes.
“I thought you had an audition already?” Chris was getting tired just looking at her bounce. “How’d you get here?”
“I took the bus. A nun? Really? You need an imagination. The first meeting was a consult with the agent. Nailed that, and I’d be a sexy-as-hell nun. This is for a label. There’s a guy in Philly in two weeks. I need a way to get there, but I know just what I need to get them to sign me.”
“Hell and nun don’t go in the same sentence.” Tony stuck his head in as Chris spoke.
“Uh, okay, yeah. I see you’re not having sex in here if you’re talking nuns. That freaks Chris right the fuck out ever since Sister Rusty in high school. Crank’s out here.”
Chris dropped his head in his hands. “Why wasn’t I an only child?”
“Did he bring Snick?” Alexis was still bouncing.
“No, I don’t think so.” Tony looked uncomfortable.
“Oh.” The bounce stopped on the down beat. “Fritz?” It started back up again.
“I don’t…go look.” Tony’s head turned to see her jog off. “She always have that much energy?”
Chris glared at his brother through his fingers.
“Damn. No wonder you got dark circles under your eyes.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Chris stood up and straightened the sketches he’d been inputting into the computer. They’d have to wait. It seemed other people wanted pieces of him. He dug in his briefcase for the folder of items he’d pulled out of consideration.
Crank walked in, Alexis under one arm. Her energy was contained and focused on making certain the old man made it into the office without mishap. “Lookie what I found.” He was smiling. The probate behind him was ogling Alexis’s ass. He had another box. Chris wondered if this was Lizard’s, or one of the Ohio chapters’ papers.
“Hi, Crank.” Tony held a hand out and when the old man took his arm off of Alexis, he brought him in for a hug with the handshake.
“You doing okay?” Tony asked.
“Fucking riding high, Boots. They’re not scrimping on the good shit now. Even better with this little princess…” he motioned her under his arm again, “…under my arm. I’m stealing her, Prince.” He directed that part at Chris, rather than his brother.
“I got an audition,” Alexis told Crank.
“Really now? What for?”
“Chris’s personal sex nun,” Tony chimed in.
Crank laughed. “I want one of those.”
“Everyone but Crank get out.” No one listened. Chris stood up and walked around the desk. He stopped to put a hand on Alexis’s shoulder. “Did you eat today?”
“I forgot. Ellis called when I was working on that song you heard the other day.”
“Tony, see if the break room has anything, if not, order a couple of pizzas.”
“Get me one with that fancy bacon, Boots,” Crank added.
“No pineapple,” Chris and Alexis said at the same time.
“Princess stays. Probate, go with Boots, leave the box.” Crank groaned when bending into the chair in front of Chris’s desk. The box went on to Chris’s desk.
Tony held out his hand to the probate. “Tony, or Boots.”
“Probating Brigand, Trenton, South Side, Pete.”
“You start calling this one Peter Parker yet?” Tony joked. He moved around the group and motioned for the young man to follow him.
“Lizard’ll like that nickname,” Crank said as he watched them leave. “Close the door, Princess.”
She closed the door and sat next to Chris once he settled on the edge of the desk.
“So, I guess you figured out that’s Lizard’s shit. Ohio wants to manage their own. Fucking fools.”
Chris nodded. He pulled the folder and handed it over to Crank. “You’ll need to figure out these.”
The old man’s eyebrow went up. “No good?”
“I had doubts they’d sell at a profit. I flagged one you shouldn’t have sent my way. Dump it on someone.” Chris glanced at Alexis.
“I’ll give them to the kid then. That should keep the bitch happy until the cops take ‘em.”
Chris opened his mouth to say something but shut it instead.
“That’s right, not your business, son. So what’s this audition thing?” He’d turned to Alexis.
“It’s in Philly. A record label rep will be visiting through the 17th. My agent says I’m supposed to line up a venue and get a band to back up. The band part won’t be hard. I’ve got a good guitarist now and a keyboardist who’s interested and can tap on my old drummer. I still need to see if I can get the bassist I know from New York but I have another one who will do in a pinch if he doesn’t get too drunk. Crowd might be an issue, but I just need to get there in the next two weeks.”
“You need a venue and a crowd?�
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“Crank.”
“Butt out, Prince, I got this.” He pulled out his phone. “Redd, hey. What’s your best club for music?” He listened for a moment, then covered the mouthpiece microphone. “What type of music, Princess?”
“Rock with an edge of blues.”
“Marry me, I’m not long for this world, anyways.” He uncovered the phone to talk to Redd. “The Gold Mine will work. You got bands booked for the next two weekends?”
Alexis started bouncing again. It wiggled the desk Chris was sitting on.
“Cancel one.” Crank glared at the wall. “And get some of the broads to give the place a good polish. Yeah, that Friday would be good.” He covered the microphone. “Two Fridays from now, Gold Mine on South 13th Street. You’re not superstitious, are you?”
Alexis shook her head.
“I’m getting more serious about the marriage thing, Princess.” He switched back to the phone. “Hell no. She’s a looker. Prince never bones the ugly chicks.” Then he laughed at something Redd said. “Redd said he’s got a diamond for ya.”
Chris mumbled a curse under his breath. Alexis elbowed him. She was bouncing in earnest now.
“Yeah, he’s got it.” Crank switched from the phone conversation to address Chris. “Ya find anything in Redd’s shit?”
“Give me the phone.” Chris motioned to Crank’s hand.
The old man glared at him.
“Please?”
Alexis laughed. “I’ve been trying to teach him manners. I don’t think it’s worked.”
Crank handed Chris the phone. “Boy’s got manners, when it’s convenient.”
“Redd.” Chris listened for a moment. “Understood. Nothing seemed out of place, but I made notes about a couple of properties. Maybe I could see them while I’m there in two weeks.”
Chris was deep in conversation with Redd about equity and property values. Crank leaned over to Alexis. “He still face all his forks sideways?”
“The spoons, too.”
“No shit? How the hell do you put up with that?”
She shrugged. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. She learned how to live in a space without messing it up for the owner a long time ago. Compared to some demands, Chris’s were mild. “It’s no big deal.”