Ash: Devil's Crucifix MC (16 page)

“Where you been, boss? Out screwing that side chick of yours?” Remmy stares at me as if his life depended on that question. Lately, he’s been getting on the clingy side. Ever since I started pursuing Dani full time, he’s been nothing but a pain in my ass. He’s been up in my business and I even heard he’s been sneaking around trying to figure out what those two boys have been doing on their stakeouts.

Unfortunately, he’s messed the wrong day to deal with me. The drive back to headquarters didn’t exactly alleviate the tension like I thought it would. In fact, the farther I got away from Dani and that restaurant, the more rage built up in me. By the time Remmy barged into my office without even knocking, I’m already a volcano of terror about to explode.

I launch myself at him, grabbing his shirt by the collar as I press his large frame up against the door. It vibrates from the force as I wonder if any other move would send it flying backwards off of its hinges. I snarl at him, uncaring about my volume, “It’s nothing you need to worry about. What I do in my free time is my concern only. And I don’t appreciate you trying to make it your business either. Got it?”

“Woah, woah. Back off there, pal. I’m just curious. Can’t a guy be curious? When you’re off doing who knows what almost every night for the past three weeks or so, a man starts to wonder what he’s missing out on.” He puts his darkened, dirty hands to the air as he continues, “I just want to make sure I’m your right hand man on all of these important things, that’s all.”

He’s caught me off guard. I know based on all of his past actions and how quickly he’s become one of us Devil’s Crucifix members through and through that questioning his loyalty or his intentions would be out of line. But there is something about the way his eyes continue to float back towards the stack of paperwork on my desk and how he doesn’t seem to face me head on when talking.

Still, I don’t have time to deal with him right now. I push him off to the side and head back towards my desk, careful to put away the folder of info Duane gave to me earlier this week on Spark. The news wasn’t exactly good. As I had suspected, signs of Spark surviving the fall are everywhere. Police at the scene spotted still wet footprints leading towards a small home. The owners reported their car stolen hours later. And there was even the report of a man at the local hospital found soaking wet, suffering from several broken bones, without ID. He managed to sneak through the hospital’s loading dock before they could get any more information.

What the file on my desk doesn’t tell me is where he is now. While I have a pretty clear picture of how he managed to survive; there was nothing that came next. No fill-ins for the last five years or so. No opened credit cards, no names on a lease, no request for any life insurance money by his family. Everyone who had known him thought he was gone, another motorcycle club member taken by another club or died riding recklessly. There are a ton of possible explanations, but only the Devil’s Crucifix members at the time know what really happened and we keep tight lips.

Remmy wasn’t a member back then, so I’m not sure why I get the feeling that I need to keep a closed door on this with him. But there’s just nothing in me that wants to let him in on something so sensitive as this, even if he
is
the arson expert in the group.

I swivel around in my chair to face him as he adjusts his shirt and takes a seat on my couch. He coughs nervously a few times before saying, “I want to talk to you about a few things, boss. First, I want to know about a promotion or at least a raise. I’ve been with you guys long enough, and I think I showed my worth to you.”

Remmy’s question is so totally out of the blue that I’m not even sure how to begin answering him. No one in club history has asked me directly for a promotion of positions, and they certainly haven’t had the balls to ask for more money. And while Remmy has done a ton of work for us lately with investigating the fires and running lead on some of our drop points, I’m not sure if I’m prepared to give him a few more dollars a week for that. Any other member would have done it without questions.

He senses my unease as he again coughs nervously and backtracks, “You know what, just forget about it. It’s not a big deal. I get that I gotta wait my turn and pay my dues. I just thought I would throw it out there anyway.”

“Fucking hell you have to pay your dues!” I can’t hold back that anger again. He’s managed to get me heated twice now in under five minutes. If he thought he was crossing a line before, he has really overstepped his territory. “Every guy here would kill for me to elevate him to a confidant. Even those in leadership roles don’t get as much ear time with me as you do. But the difference is that they actually put in the time and work before they ask something as big as a fucking raise!”

“I get it. I get it, man. Blame it on me being a civilian all these years. I’m used to paychecks and performance reviews. White collar living has made me soft…I won’t ask again. You’re the head around here, and what you say goes -- no matter the consequences.”

How he says the last sentence raises the hairs on the back of my neck. It’s almost feels like a threat, though he smiles right through it. 

Remmy stands before I can get any more information out of him. He heads straight towards the door, his hand hesitating at the silver handle, before turning back to face me. “You know. I do have something else to tell you. And it’s not going to be about your business or club business. I promise you that, boss.”

“What the fuck is it now?” I ask incredulously. My hands reach for the temple of my forehead as I try to soothe out the mounting tension forming between my eyes.

“It’s that…Well, I…” His stammering gets me alert again. He isn’t one to exactly fumble his words. The one thing I will give to him is that he’s an excellent speaker, someone who can talk himself out of a paper bag if need be.

Again I feel my haunches raise as if he is about to drop a bomb on me at any minute. “Spit it out, Remmy. I’m already pissed and having a shitty day. Whatever you’ve got to say isn’t going to make it any worse.”

“Fine. I was talking to some of the guys before their morning shift yesterday. And they mentioned some guy I hadn’t heard about before. I think his name was Sparky? Lighter? Something like that. Do you know who I’m talking about?” He peers at me through half closed eyes as if he is trying to break me down as much as possible.

The room gets at least ten degrees colder, or at least it feels that way. My lip slightly trembles as I realize I am creeping up on some strange territory. Remmy is trying to throw me a bone here, a piece of information I need, but I can tell he knows he isn’t supposed to have it either.

“Yeah, I know him. His real name was Henry, but we called him Spark. He was a member right when the club formed.” I choose my words very carefully as I slowly say, “He’s not with us anymore.”

“That’s the thing, Ash. The guys were talking about seeing him -- seeing Spark. They way they talked about him, it was like they had seen a ghost or something. I asked around and someone told me you took him out. But if he died, what’s he doing hanging around town?” Remmy scratches the back of his head as he looks down towards his shoes.

“Where?”

“What did you say?” he looks over his shoulder through the door.

“Where did the guys see him…or think they saw him?” My heart races as I grab hold of the desk and pull myself out. I stand to my feet and walk straight for Remmy.

Remmy holds up his hands again, just as he did the first time I pummeled him into the doorway. “Uh…over by the old bridge, at this house along the Thunder Cliff. Do you know what I’m talking about? They said they saw his bike and maybe even him as they were doing some routes. They didn’t know who to talk to about it. They were worried you’d get spooked or freaked out. So I said I would handle it.”

“You don’t know shit about the situation, Remmy. Why is it your job? I want to see those guys up here within the next ten minutes or I will give them something to be afraid of.” I point my finger directly to his chest as I try to change the tides. He has spent this entire time talking to me like I had no idea how to run my own club. And with this Spark situation, I plan on showing him exactly who is boss here.

He looks down at my finger and then, with a slight smile, adds, “That’s the problem, Ash. I don’t think those guys would talk or at least tell the truth. They’re not the kind of guys who want to get a name for themselves, you know? You bring them in here and put them under a lamp and they’ll freeze up so fast you won’t have any credible information.”

I groan loudly as I realize he has a point. It’s a weak one, but I know how some guys are. They may be motorcycle men, but they still have that soft, yellow-bellied sides in them that keep them from owning up to anything. I can train them, I can beat them, but I can’t force them to live up to this code.

“So, what do you expect me to do, Remmy? What’s your big suggestion since you’re full of opinions today?”

“I say you go over there. If we’ve got an AWOL, vengeful guy out on the loose and starting fires, it’s better to investigate now and then get the facts later. Check out the house. If there’s signs he’s there or you catch up to him, I’ll give you the guy’s names and you can run their story.”

He’s not even finished before I’ve thrown my jacket over my shoulders and have headed out the door past him, not even considering locking the door. If Spark is out there, there isn’t any time to lose. Remmy is right. If this is a lead, a real lead that could stop all this madness and get life back to where it was before the first fire started, I will risk just about anything to find it.          

Before I head out, I check my phone one last time for any sign of Dani. I’m not expecting anything, but a lump in my throat does drop a bit when I see that her name isn’t anywhere in my missed call log or message inbox. She said it was over, and I’ve got to respect that. Still, I am wrestling with just sending her a quick text to tell her where I am going and why.

“
I know you don’t want to talk to me anymore. This isn’t about us. I got a tip that the arsonist is in the area again and is hiding out near the old bridge by Thunder Cliff. I’m heading over there now, and I’ll give you an update if I catch him. Stay safe, Dani.”

I don’t hit send. I figure if I give her the location, she might tattle to the chief or another detective. And then where will I be -- dealing with a guy who can tell an investigator I tried to kill him and without any way to ensure I get my justice and revenge on the guy who has made my life a living hell the last few months? No. While Dani may be the firefighter, I am the leader of the Devil’s Crucifix. And I will get my chance at him first.

I stick the phone back in my pocket and head out towards the bridge. I haven’t been in this neck of the woods since the incident. One of my old leaders used to advise me to never backtrack where you left a body. It leaves too many clues and the police half expect you to be that dumb. So I’ve avoided this area like the plague. I don’t run routes out here. I don’t even arrange transactions here in case it would have my name on it. It was like I wound around yellow police tags around this mile radius for my own protection that even the other boys weren’t allowed to cross.

Even though I haven’t made this trip in years, everything still looks just about the same as the day I was last here. The house overlooking the cliff hasn’t aged at all. The white windowpanes are still weather-worn and beaten up. The screen door slams in the breeze as I had remembered it. I can almost picture Spark’s footprints leading police detectives to that home while the senior citizen couple inside fret about losing their car to a battered up thief.

I park my bike right at the entrance to the bridge. I don’t want to give myself away too soon if Spark was there. As I walk over the bridge and towards the home, I pull out my Glock 19 and unlock the safety. With a quick look down towards the rocks where I last spotted Spark’s body, I try to ease my breath and focus my mind. I’m not going to be without my guard as I near the exterior. But the eerie quiet mixed with the smoky colored air only makes it seem more and more like I am walking towards my death.

With my free hand, I reach into my pocket and press send on that text message. I listen for the little woosh sound for confirmation before continuing on around the side of the one-story building. My feet tread carefully on the overgrown weeds and the flowerbed that’s overrun with dead earth. The former owners must have abandoned their work years ago, and by the look of the house, I have a feeling this place hasn’t seen a person in years.