I parked along a darkened street behind the motel and made my way around to the side of the building, where we’d agreed to meet. Trick and Lucky were waiting in the darkened shadows at the edge of the parking lot, which looked just as rough as the motel itself. It was filled with potholes and hadweeds growing up through the cracked concrete. From where I stood, I could see empty liquor bottles, beer cans, used syringes, and most disturbing of all, two used rubbers.
Despite the nasty-ass surroundings, I smiled as I approached them.
“Good news, brothers. He’s here.” I explained that as I’d walked around from behind the building, I’d spotted Pic’s bike – the same one he’d ridden for years – parked next to the dumpster in the back corner.
I pulled out the burner phone and sent a text to both Cowboy and Irish that simply contained a thumbs up emoji, just in case the phones were discovered before we could destroy them. Irish responded with a smiley face. Cowboy asked if they should head to the party.
“Don’t know yet. I’ll let you know if it’s going to be any fun.”I assumed they could figure out that I was telling them to stand by and decided that the next time we did this shit, we would work out some kind of a goddamned code beforehand. I slipped my phone back into one pocket and pulled my gloves out of the other.
“I don’t think the fucker would park his bike anywhere he couldn’t see it, so I’m guessing he’s in one of the five rooms along the back.” We started walking that way, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. Since most of the lights in the parking lot and on the building’s exterior were burned out, that was fairly easy to accomplish.
“There were no lights on in any of the rooms, but only one had the curtains pulled. The others were open, so I would imagine those are vacant for the night,” I told them quietly.
We made our way to the room, slipping our gloves on as we walked. When we got to the door, I realized that it wasn’tclosed all the way. There was no sound coming from inside as I bent to pull my gun free from the ankle holster that I rarely had the need to use. I eased the door open, then waited for a reaction from anyone who might have been inside.
I’d remembered to grab the small flashlight from my saddlebag, and I was fucking grateful for it now. There was no sound or movement from inside, so I flicked the button to turn the flashlight on and peered around the doorframe.
I motioned for Trick and Lucky to stay where they were, and took two steps into the room, keeping the flashlight’s beam low so it didn’t shine through the window. I could see the entire room from there, including into the tiny bathroom by the door.
There was no one here…unless you counted the dead sonofabitch on the floor with a fucking bullet between his eyes. There was an empty, clear baggie with a familiar bone printed on it, laying right in the middle of his chest as if it had been deliberately placed there.
I flicked the flashlight off and stepped out, quietly pulling the door shut behind me without bothering to lock it. I turned to Lucky and Trick who were both scanning the area.
“He’s in there, with a bullet in his brain and one of T-Bone’s baggies laying on his chest,” I told them in a low whisper.
“Damn,” Lucky muttered quietly.
I motioned for them to follow me. When we made it to the far edge of the parking lot, I stopped walking and turned around to face them.
“All right, we need to the fuck out of here. I doubt anyone around here bothered reporting a gunshot, but I don’t want to chance the cops showing up while we’re in the vicinity. Keep your head on a swivel, both of you. Get back to your bikes,and back to the clubhouse as fast as you can without drawing attention to yourselves. I hate to split up, but three riders together are going to stand out too much at this time of the night, and that’s the last fucking thing we need.” I stopped and looked them both in the eye. “Stay safe and keep your asses out of trouble.”
I pulled each of them in for a hug – one of those one armed, clap-on-the-back kind of hugs that men did because we didn’t want to look like pussies – then sent them on their way.
I called Cowboy as I hustled back to my bike, since I was too tired to figure out some stupid code words to describe what we’d found.
It barely rang on his end before he answered, “Do you need us?”
“No, man. He was already dead when we got here. Head shot. Looks like it was T-Bone, but we can talk more at the clubhouse. Do me a favor and call Irish and Bull and let them both know. I need to call Rossi and arrange for clean-up, so this doesn’t blow back on the club in any way.”
Luca Rossi sounded half-asleep when he answered, which wasn’t surprising given that it was almost two in the morning.
“We found him, but somebody got to him before we did. One to the head,” I greeted him when he answered,
“Any idea who?,” he said, sounding much more alert.
“I’m guessing T-Bone, a low-level runner who skipped out on K-Dog’s crew to start his own side hustle last year. One of his baggies was laying there like a damned calling card.”
“I’ve heard of him. He’s becoming a pain in my ass, although I do appreciate him taking care of business tonight. Where do I need to send the cleaning crew?”
“The Open Road Motel, on Stanton Street. Room 7. The door’s unlocked.”
“Consider it done. I’ll reach out to my contact at IMPD and make sure that any reports of gunshots in the area are erased. I’ll let Lola know in the morning as well.”
The mood was somber when I arrived back at the clubhouse. I was glad to see that both Lucky and Trick had already made it back.
The other two crews walked in the door shortly after I did, and we all met in the chapel to discuss everything. Sinner joined us, taking the seat that Ace normally used. I didn’t bother asking where the hell he was. After his fucking tantrum earlier over me firing Star, I just hoped he would decide to stay gone.
It didn’t take long to tell them what happened, and afterward there were very few questions. It seemed like most of us wanted to put this clusterfuck behind us. I know I sure as hell did.
