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“What? That’s fucking sick,” said the young man. “Dad! Hey, Dad, come hear this.”
It turns out Crawdad was Tater’s father. They never suspected that, but it was kind of cute. He explained why they were looking for the man. Then his father grabbed a chair.
“You guys walked into the right bar. Our club, Krewe, we buy toys every year for the kids at the boys’ home in Lafourche Parish. I grew up there and had a great life because of those folks. We gather things every year and take them over on the bikes on Christmas Eve. Our stuff was in a storage shed at the back of our club.
“We went on a ride, got back, and the whole thing was gone. Shed and all. The only thing we saw were motorcycle tracks. Not sure how he got that shit out of there, but he took the whole damn thing.” Ghost looked at Nine, then Gaspar and Ian.
“A chopper,” he muttered. “He has help, and he’s using a fucking chopper to get that shit out. You’ve been very helpful. Very. You boys take those bikes to SP. They’ll take care of you.”
“You know what,” said Crawdad, shaking his head. “We’re happy to help on this one. Let us know if you find our stuff, and that will be payment enough. I’ll go visit with your boys and see when they can get my bike in. No rush.”
“Thank you, brother,” said Ghost. Leaving the bar, they sat on their bikes, looking at one another. “A fucking cop.”
“Maybe several cops,” said Ian. “What if that chopper is a police chopper?”
“See if Sly can track the choppers and find where they were. If this guy is a cop, he might have had access to Tolbert to kill him. Which would mean he definitely has help.”
“It’s late. We need to get back. Tomorrow, we find that glamping place and see if we can get some information about him.”
They enjoyed their casual ride back, letting the wind chap their skin, causing it to be red and raw. They parked the bikes behind Steel Patriots Cycles and walked back up to the big house of Belle Fleur. Taking the boat back to Belle Île, they waved at one another, planning to meet again in the morning at 0700.
Nine stomped his boots on the porch, trying to get as much dirt and mud off. When he walked inside, he kicked them off, setting them on the weatherproof mat. He hung up his coat and then called out.
“Erin? Baby, are you here?” he called.
“I’m in the back,” she hollered.
He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and made his way down the hallway. He smelled candles burning and thought maybe Erin was in the bath. When he turned the corner, he was shocked to see his gorgeous wife lying back on the bed in a bright red lace teddy, garters, and a smile wrapped in red lipstick.
“Welcome home, Santa. Time to open your stocking.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Anybody else confused as fuck by their wife’s behavior last night?” frowned Ian.
“Yes. But happy as shit,” chuckled Ghost. “Grace has always been an amazing lover, but last night seemed larger-than-life, even for her.”
“I’m damn sure not complaining,” said Gaspar. “I’m hungry and ready to head out and find this asshole. Let’s talk to the others.” Filling their plates with food, they walked toward the table with Noah, Noa, Dom, and Magnus. Skull and Razor were fixing their plates but would join them soon.
“Did you guys find anything?” asked Ian.
“Not sure,” said Noa. “We talked to two clubs who do toy drives for different sections of the city. Good dudes. A little shady, but all-in-all, good dudes. They all said the same thing. Someone told them it was a cop taking their shit but couldn’t identify him. We’re heading to Houma to see if another group can give us more information.
“They bought a hundred bikes for kids, had them stored and locked in a storage unit, and they were all taken. These dudes are pissed and want answers.”
“My question is, where is this man holding all the merchandise?” asked Noah.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” said Ghost. “Any spirits sharing information? Maybe our new friend, Marcel?”
“Nothing so far,” said Noah, “but he does feel unrest around the new village. He is not sure why, but he is keeping an eye open for us.”
“Cool. A ghost lookout. Learn something new every day,” smirked Nine, taking a huge bite of his omelet. “Stay vigilant and alert. No one gets hurt.”
“We know, Dad,” smiled Magnus.
“I will fucking kill you right here in the cafeteria,” said Nine. His features softened, and he shook his head. “But thanks for saying that. I think I needed to hear it.”
The ride to White Kitchen wasn’t an easy one. They had to fight rush hour morning traffic in New Orleans to cross the Twin Span Bridge, then make their way east toward the location.
