Diablo sniggered. “Army just needs to meet the right woman. Once that happens, he’ll settle his ass down.”
“Not sure he’s gonna meet his ideal woman unless she’s a nymphomaniac who owns a liquor store and has a brother who works at a Harley dealership,” Goldie said.
The brothers guffawed, but when Wexler and a man in a crumpled suit walked in, they all went stone-faced. Wexler went up to the bikers right away, but the man with him paused and mopped his face with a handkerchief before approaching.
“A couple of the department’s bikes need a tune-up and an oil change,” the sheriff said. Shotgun nodded and pulled out a service slip. “It’s a scorcher today. Are you getting ready for the bike rally? You’re having it over at Helmstad’s place, aren’t you?”
“Is that all you’re gonna need?” Shotgun asked as he wrote some things on the service form while the other brothers remained stoic and silent.
Wexler nodded, and then the man, who was sweating profusely, said, “Have you sold an American eagle hood ornament for a dark-colored SUV, maybe burgundy or brown?”
“Why the fuck are you asking?” Diablo said.
“And who the hell are you?” Goldie added.
Wexler cleared his throat. “This is Jack Barnard. He’s helping out with an investigation in our town.”
“I’m a detective with the Durango police. We received some information we’re just following up on.”
The brothers just stared at him; they didn’t give information to badges. Ever.
Shotgun shook his head. “I don’t recall selling any American eagles. We don’t really carry them.”
“That’s funny because the bottom shelf behind you has two American eagle ornaments. I’ve also seen several around town, and people tell me they bought it at this store,” Jack said.
“All we want to know is who you sold them to and the dates. We’re not asking for anything more.”
They didn’t say anything.
Jack pounded his fist on the counter. “Fuck! The bastard who raped and murdered the older woman on the front page of the paper had an American eagle hood ornament. Chances are high he got it at this shop. We just need to know who you’ve sold them to.”
“That ornament is common as hell and all shops carry it. It can be bought online. There’s nothing sayin’ we sold it to the killer,” Diablo said.
“I’m not saying you did, and even if you did, you had no way of knowing who he was. I’m just trying to cover all the bases. I want to catch this fucking bastard and put him away for life. If any of you have sisters, mothers, girlfriends, wives, or know and care about any woman, I’d think you’d want this sick bastard caught.”
Hailey flashed through Goldie’s mind, as did the man who’d scared her. The muscle in his jaw twitched.I’ll be on the lookout for the eagle. And if the fucker bought it from us, I’ll tear him apart.Their lifestyle dictated that he and his brothers would take care of business in their own way. And in their world, a person was guilty until they thought he was innocent.
Wexler fixed his gaze on each of the brothers and a tacit agreement passed between them. Smiling weakly, he turned to Jack. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got work to do.”
“We’ll be back with a subpoena for those records,” Barnard said.
“Do what you need to do,” Shotgun said. “When do you need the bikes back by?”
The sheriff spun around. “In a couple of days. Does that work?”
Shotgun nodded. “Works fine. I’ll call you.”
“Sounds good. And thanks.”
When the two cops drove off, Goldie leaned against the counter. “Check to see if this fuckin’ asshole bought the hood ornament here.”
“Yeah. We’ll take care of him,” Diablo growled.
“The fucker’s gonna find out what a fucked-up pussy he is when we get through with him,” Eagle said.
“It’s gonna take time to go through all the records ’cause we sell a shitload of those eagles in the store and online. I’d bet money he got it at our store. It’ll take some time, but I’ll find the bastard.”
“You better talk to Steel about having Chains dummy up the records. There’s no way that Durango badge isn’t coming back with a damn subpoena,” Goldie said.
