Jerry Langton Three-Book Biker Bundle (31 page)

“. . . and the Death Dealers are a more violent bunch anyway. You think that if they found out you were a rat, you wouldn't just be out of business—you'd be dead.”

Eddie just sighed.

“It 's okay, Ed. You're right—they would kill you if they found out . . .”

Ed looked at Clegg. A tear welled up in his right eye.

“. . . so you don't have to tell me who your dealer is.”

Ed smiled.

“You're gonna have to face B and E and willful destruction charges for your girlfriend's place, but I'll forget about the meth if you do me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“I have a friend who's a reporter. You tell her what I want you to tell her and I'll forget I ever saw any meth.”

“Will she use my name?”

“Nope. And your B and E charge will keep your friends from thinking you talked to get off.”

“Okay then.”

Clegg left to call Lara, then returned to the interrogation room to coach Aarhus on what to say. By the time she arrived, he was pretty comfortable. After a few preliminary questions that indicated he was a local drug dealer with close ties to the Death Dealers, Lara asked him about the war.

“Yeah, there's a war going on, everybody knows it, but nobody wants to talk about it. The Lawbreakers and the Death Dealers—who everybody knows are run by the Sons of Satan—are fighting it out on the streets of not just Springfield, but a bunch of cities for the right to sell drugs on the street.”

“Who's winning?”

“It was the Lawbreakers for a long time, but now it's the Death Dealers.”

“Is that because of the recent assassinations?”

“Yeah.”

“And the Death Dealers are behind them?”

“Yeah, you might not believe me, but all the murders were done by one man—a professional assassin the Death Dealers brought in from Martinsville.”

“Will you tell me his name?”

“I can't.”

“When will the war stop?”

“When the Death Dealers run the town.”

“Then what happens? The assassin gets sent to another town?”

“No, they plan to kill him.”

“What?”

“After he's done in Springfield, they're gonna kill him because he's getting too wild, won't follow orders anymore. He's just too dangerous, even for them.”

“How do you know all this?”

Aarhus looked at Clegg, who nodded.

“I'm done. I got nothing more to say.”

Acting under Clegg's orders, a uniform took Aarhus back to his cell. Clegg grinned at Lara. “Don't say I never gave you anything.”

She beamed.

Feeney had actually killed a guy before. His brother was a bouncer at Hurlihy's before Steve took it over, and he had to kick this one drunken tough guy out because he was grabbing all the dancers. The guy came back a half hour later with a shotgun. Feeney jumped him before he could get to his brother and the two of them beat him up. The guy later died in hospital from loss of blood. After some aggressive plea bargaining, Feeney's brother, Mikey, got three years and Feeney himself got eighteen months.

But this was totally different. Feeney had to go out with the intention of killing a man. A man whom, only days ago, he had considered his boyfriend. He didn't have time for sentiment. Besides, he could find another Ronnie in half an hour. He packed a gun and headed for the motel where Ronnie worked nights. The plan was to walk in when he saw Ronnie alone, shoot him in the head, and then grab some valuable stuff to make it look like a robbery. Easy in, easy out.

He brought two guns. A shotgun and a handgun. He drove to the motel but parked across the road. He planned to wait until he could tell there were no customers in the lobby, for when Ronnie was alone.

He sat in his car for about twenty minutes. But there was one old woman who sat in the couch opposite Ronnie's desk and talked and talked with him. Feeney wondered if he could get away with murdering Ronnie in front of her or if he would have to kill her too.

He was pondering that decision when he was awoken from his thoughts by sirens. Within seconds of each other, three cop cars showed up, sirens blaring. The cops got out, guns drawn, and hustled into the motel's office. A few minutes later, they emerged with Ronnie. His hands were cuffed behind his head, but he was smiling and chatting with the cops. Feeney didn't want to wait around; he drove away—quietly, obeying all street signs and speed limits—and went home.

Ned didn't want to go to Steve's, but he didn't have a choice. When the big man calls, you go. Steve wouldn't tell him why he wanted him, but he made sure Ned knew it was mandatory.

When he showed up at the mansion, Ned was surprised to see a bunch of cars there. Something was going on. But it wasn't something gangster, because most of the cars were pretty shitty. It was all Mazda 3s, Honda Civics, and stuff like that, not the usual Cadillacs, Lexuses, and big SUVs.

Once inside, he could tell what was going on. There were lights and wires everywhere. People were walking around with coffee and walkietalkies. Steve was making one of his movies. Because the house was so large, it took a while to find him. Finally, he asked one of the guys who was milling about, and he told him Steve was in the ‘Green Room.' When Ned looked at him, confused, the guy pointed.

Ned opened the door and saw Steve and a thin, curly haired woman sitting in what appeared to be matching barber chairs. They were both wearing white bathrobes. The room was full of lights and mirrors. An effeminate young man was spraying the woman's hair, while a small, older woman was applying makeup to Steve's face. His eyes were closed.

Ned cleared his throat. Steve opened his eyes and grinned broadly. “Crash Aiken!” He said. “So glad you could come.”

“You called me down.”

Steve dismissed the other people in the room. “Isn't this exciting?” he said. “Bet you've never been on a movie set before.”

“No, no, you got me there.”

“Let me show you around.”

“Maybe we should get business out of the way first.”

Steve's face dropped. “Yeah, maybe you're right. How are things going in Hamner?”

“Great—making lots of money, no problems with the police.”

“Yeah, what about the Bandit?”

“Well, I'd like to tell you he's helping, but it'd be more accurate to say he's not hurting us that much.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he doesn't do any work—other than act as something of a deterrent to any wannabe tough guys because he's so big and ugly—and he steals beer and harasses the dancers, but mostly he just hangs around all day.”

“Acting funny at all?”

“If stupid is funny, then yes.”

“Well, you don't have to worry about him anymore.”

“Why?”

“A friend of mine who just happens to work for the Hamner PD told me that our mutual friend has been talking to the Springfield PD.”

“What? He knows everything about me!”

“Don't worry. If they wanted you, you'd be behind bars right now,” Steve said. “They want me. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you're pretty small-time.”

“Aren't you worried?”

“Do I look worried?” Steve laughed. “Listen, I just need you to tell him he's been sent back to Springfield—that I have a job for him. He'll believe you.”

“What if he doesn't?”

“Then you've got a job to do.” Steve paused, then laughed. “You always worry, Ned—he'll believe you. Don't be such a pussy.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know Adam Stockton?”

“Yeah, he was a year behind me in school. Big guy. Why?”

“Because I'm sending him to Hamner to help you out.”

“He's one of us?”

Steve nodded, then clapped his hands. “Okay, now that business is over, we can get down to pleasure—which is also my business now.”

Ned paused. “Uh, no thanks, watching other people have sex isn't really my thing.”

“I thought you'd say that, so I'm offering you a starring role, well, co-starring—I'm the star,” Steve smiled. “I could always use a tag-team partner.”

“I don't think so. I told you that before.”

“But I have something that might change your mind.”

Steve led Ned into a bedroom, where he fully expected to see Melody or some other attractive girl. Instead, he was shocked to see Kelli. A little thinner, a lot more worn-down looking and with her hair dyed black. They looked at each other for a full minute before anybody said anything.

It was Steve who spoke. “Why don't I leave you two alone for a few minutes. I'm sure you have plenty to catch up on.”

Kelli got up and hugged Ned. Then she let out a nervous giggle. “Hey, baby, it's so good to see you,” she said with a smile. “How have you been?”

Ned stammered at first, but finally managed: “Good, good, good, real good—and you?”

She giggled again. It was something she had never really done before, and it annoyed him. “I'm doing great. I share a place with Mal,” she paused. “And I work for Steve now.” Another giggle.

“Dancing?”

“This and that.”

A long pause. “I'm up in Hamner now, managing a bar,” he said. “It's good, really good.”

“You got a girlfriend?” She giggled.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“I'm so glad to hear that,” she hugged him again.

Steve walked in. “Time to go to work, Kelli,” he said.

She kissed Ned on the nose and left the room.

Steve looked at Ned. “Are you sure I can't get you to do a scene or two?” Steve asked. “A quick and dirty thousand bucks.”

“No. I'm cool.”

“You are cool, right? Not upset, I mean.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I'm fine. That stuff 's all behind me now, right? That was our deal.”

“Yeah, I want you to know this wasn't a test—but if it was, you would have passed.”

Feeney knew it was gonna happen, but he was surprised at how quickly it all went down. He was sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and watching
The Usual Suspects
when the police knocked on his door. An hour later, he was in an interrogation room with two FBI agents. They both wore cheap suits, but the older one, Quayle, had the gravity to pull it off. The other was a total musclehead, so his clothes had awkward tight spots and he tended to twitch and play with his earring when he wasn't talking. Feeney could smell his cologne in the small, harshly lit room.

“Okay, so we get a tip this skel at the hotel has two unregistered handguns, and we send a couple of units to pick him up,” Detective-Lieutenant Robert Quayle said with a look of studied and utterly fake astonishment. “And, without any offers or anything from us—really, he didn't get anything—he offers to tell us all about how he murdered this dude in Webster's Falls with his—get this—gay lover who just happens to be a full-patch Son of Satan.”