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Quinn looked at the yellow envelope on the table, weighing up his options. He rose to his feet and stretched out a hand to Bull. “You have yourself a deal.”
“Good.”
Twenty thousand dollars was a lot of money to turn down, but I understood why Bull did it. Currency like the one Quinn was offering could be traced back to the Kings and could become a headache for us further down the track if things went pear-shaped with the investigation. A future favor and a handshake was far less incriminating than a pile of cash.
The two men sat back down.
“Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt you or your wife?” I asked. As Sergeant at Arms, Bull would rely heavily on me to help find out what happened to Vander Quinn.
“My wife had a lot of friends. She was a people person. They gravitated to her like bees to pollen.” He paused, his face marred by sadness. “I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt…” His voice trailed off as he remembered something. “A couple of weeks ago she started getting phone calls from a number she didn’t recognize. She told me about it over breakfast one morning. But then she never mentioned it again. Do you think that might have something to do with it?”
“It could but I would say the sheriff’s department would have already sent a request to her phone provider for access of her records,” Ruger said, meaning we’d be able to get them off Buckman later. “Can you think of anything else?”
Mayor Quinn paused, thinking.
“There is one other thing.”
We waited.
“My wife was having an affair.”
“An affair?” I asked.
Mayor Quinn waved it off. “It was nothing serious. Just like all the others.”
Seeing the confusion on our faces he elaborated.
“My wife and I had an arrangement. We’ve been married thirty years this June, gentlemen, and I’m man enough to admit that marriage can get a bit boring once the shine of new love wears away and you’re faced with the day-to-day monotony of real life together. My wife enjoyed a few trysts here and there, and I understood them. She was a good looking woman with time on her hands and a healthy sexual appetite. We had a great sex life, believe me. But that didn’t stop her wanting to eat pork chops instead of sirloin steak every once in a while.”
Ruger glanced at me, his eyebrows raised, while Bull’s expression remained unchanged.
“You really expect us to believe you were okay with her having an affair?” he said.
“I don’t expect you to understand, Bull. But you need to realize that not all relationships are cookie-cutter. Vander and I grew up together. Went to college together. Trusted each other. I accepted her and she accepted me. That’s why we are… we were… celebrating thirty years together.” Sadness swept across his face. “She was the love of my life.”
“This guy she was having an affair with… you think he had anything to do with her murder?” Ruger asked. “Perhaps he wanted more and took out his frustrations on her when she refused to end her marriage.”
Mayor Quinn stood up and his assistant quickly did the same.
“I don’t know. That’s what I expect you to find out. All I know is my wife is dead and her red mustang is missing.” He looked at Bull. “Start with those bikers that have been hanging around town. Satan’s Tribe, if I recall correctly. Saw them just outside of town at Coota’s Bar & Grill.”
“She has a red mustang?” I asked.
“It’s a limited edition. Royal crimson. Find her car. She won’t be far behind.”
We watched him and his assistant leave before we spoke.
“You think he’s involved? Or knows who is?” I asked Bull.
“I don’t know. But his suggestion about the Tribe isn’t unreasonable.” He pulled his phone out from the breast pocket of his cut. “I’m going to give Behemoth a call.”
Behemoth was the president of Satan’s Tribe. His real name was Balthazar Julius but he was known as Behemoth in the MC world. Bull put him on speaker so we could hear the conversation.
He answered on the third ring. “Who is this?”
“You know who it is or you wouldn’t have answered,” Bull said.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to tell me why three of your men are in Destiny?”
“Fuck you,” Behemoth snapped and hung up the phone.
Bull’s face barely registered his wrath, but his eyes glowed with it.
Putting his phone on speaker, he dialed the number again. When Behemoth answered he yelled into the phone, “Fuck me? Fuck you, motherfucker. Now this can go one of two ways. You can either tell me why your men are in my town, and I will hang up feeling very appreciative of your cooperation. Or you can tell me to fuck off again, and I will ride all the way down to Gulfport just so I can beat some motherfucking manners into you. Now for the last fucking time, why the fuck are your men in my town?”
