Rod (13 page)

“No, but since I’ve got free reign, I can
do whatever I’d like.”

“I like this ‘take control’ side of you,”
he says, once again deflecting.

“What’s your father like?” I ask.

“My father, Seth, is a snake in the grass.
 
He’s lower than low.
 
I hope I’m never like that.”

“And your mother?”

“She’s an angel, but she puts up with my
father’s shit.
 
I don’t know how she does
it.
 
I could never understand why she
hasn’t left him.
 
He lies, cheats and is
a thug, but she still stays.”

I shake that imagery off.
 

“So you live with Justin
Hanke
?”

“Yeah, he’s cool dude.
 
He put me up since I got into town a couple
of years ago.”

“Where did you live before this?”

“Just outside of
Hayleyville
,”
he says.
 

“I’ve been to
Hayleyville
;
that town is a mess,” I tell him.

“Yeah, it’s been that way for years.
 
It’s occupied by nothing but thugs.”

“Do you know of anyone who would kidnap my
sister?” I ask the obligatory question.

“No, honey, of course I don’t.
 
If I did, I’d turn them in for sure.”’

“Alright, see you later on?” I tease with
a wink.

“Sure, sweetheart, anytime you want.”

He gets up to walk away and I find myself
staring at his butt once again.

He’s a distraction, I tell myself.
 
A distraction that I can’t leave alone.
 

I type the rest of my notes into the
laptop and note how much of a monster Seth Vinton must be.
 
I say to myself quietly, “Seth Vinton; why
does that name sound familiar?”

I shrug it off for the time being.
 
The investigation isn’t nearly over and I
need to mine more information.
 

I power down the laptop and stash it in my
bag.
 
I walk over to my father, dodging
dirty looks on the way.

“All done, kid?” he asks.
 

I
pat
my bag to
say that my work at the Lair is done.
 
“All done, for now.
 
We’ll talk
about what I’ve found later on.”

“Sounds good.
 
Heading home then?”

“Yeah, I have to look into more stuff.”

“Good, good,” he says, going back to his
previous conversation after I walk off.

I stuff my laptop bag into my saddlebag
and head home.
 
I need time to think and
to reconcile all of this information.

Chapter Seven

Rodney Vinton

Leaving the Lair, I wonder what I’m really
doing there.
 
My father made it clear
that I was to infiltrate the Dragons to learn information.
 
Since coming to Hinton Township, I have been
able to make friends and these guys are good people.
 

I ride my bike back to Justin’s
place.
 
I don’t fault him for telling
Trish about me, but instead want to know more.

Parking my bike in front of the apartment,
I walk up the stairs and open the door.
 
I notice Justin sitting there watching
football.
 

“Hey dude,” he says, looking up at me.

“Hey,” I say back.

“Trish asked about you during her little
investigation,” he teases.

“Yeah?
 
What did she say?”

“She just wanted to know what I could tell
her about you.
 
So, I told her that
you’ve been renting a room here since you came to town.”

“Is that all?” I ask.

“Yeah, in all honesty, she seemed more
interested in Ken Clayton and Boris
Cardov
.”

“I wonder what those two clowns have to do
with anything,” I sigh.

“No clue, but she is zeroing in on them
for something.”

“Got it.
 
If they’re guilty of anything, they’ll be sent packing with an ass
kicking,” I tell him.

“A
well deserved
ass kicking,” he adds.

I nod in the affirmative and head up to my
room.

I feel a knot of worry building up in my
stomach and wonder if Trish is going to put two and two together and come out
with four.
 
Will she find out that my
father, Seth Vinton, is actually the leader of the
Deathdealers
?
 
Would she hate me for something I can’t control?

My phone blares its familiar notification
sound.
 
A text message from Ronan.
 
Shit, he must know.

“Rod, come to the club,” it reads.

“OMW,” I text back.
 
If it’s a beating that I have to get, then a
beating I will take.
 
All in all, I will
show my loyalty to the Green Dragons.
 

I walk back downstairs and zip through the
place and outside.
 
I hop onto my bike
and zoom out onto the streets, blazing a trail to the Dragon’s Lair.
 

I park that beast out front and walk in
the doors to see Ronan at the bar looking frustrated.

“Thanks for
comin
’,
man,” he says looking up at me.
 
“Have a
seat.”

I fret a little that maybe Trish would
betray our friendship for the sake of finding her sister, despite me not
knowing anything about her disappearance.

“What can I do for
ya
,
boss?” I ask.

“I need to ask you something,” he says
with his focus trained on me.

“Yeah?
 
Shoot.”

“I think something’s up with Boris,” he
begins.

“Boris?” I question him.

“Yeah, that fucker looked awful shady when
I asked if anyone had a problem with Trish questioning people.”

“Interesting,” I note.

“Can you get close to him and see if he’s
up to anything?”

“Consider it done,” I tell him.
 

“Report back to me if you find anything,
alright kid?”

“You got it boss,” I reply.

I get up from the red bar stool and when I
know I’m out of earshot, I take a deep breath.
 
My secret is safe for now.
 
Maybe
Trish isn’t that good at figuring things out?

I hop back on my bike and head to Scott
Pence’s place.
 
It’s a ten minute ride
and I’m thankful for the wind beating me in the face as I jet on through the
town.
 
It wakes me up to the reality that
I’m about two shakes away from an ass kicking – or worse – at the hands of
Ronan Fitzgerald.

Pulling up to the brick apartment
building, I park my bike next to a grey bike that is already on the
street.
 
I assume it belongs to
Scott.
 
I walk up the concrete stairs and
press the button labeled “Pence - 4”

A voice comes over the intercom and says,
“Yeah?”

“It’s Rodney from the club,” I tell him.

I hear the buzzer coming from the door,
allowing me entry into the building.
 
I
head up to apartment number four and announce my presence with a knock.

He opens the door, looks me up and down
and says, “Come on in, man.”

I walk inside taking in everything I see
in his place.
 
It’s tidy enough, but I
gather that the only woman’s touch it has ever seen is probably at the hands of
his mother.

“I thought we would hang out, drink some
beers and stuff,” I propose.

“Sure, dude.
 
Let’s drink beers and hang out.”

I sit down on the recliner as he gets up
from the couch and walks to the kitchen.
 
He emerges with a couple of cold beers and hands me one.

“I was just watching the game,” he says,
motioning toward the television.

I hear rumors springing up all over the
club that this dude is close to Boris, so if I make myself a fixture, perhaps I
can see what’s going down here.
 

I notice an ashtray on the coffee table as
I put my feet up.
 

“You smoke?” I ask, crossing my legs at
the ankle on the wooden little table.

“Not cigarettes,” he jokes.

“What then, pot?” I push.

“I know we’re not supposed to do that shit
in the club, but I know you’re cool.
 
Listen, my mother was in the hospital last week.
 
She had heart surgery and I was fucking nuts
over it.
 
This dude gave me some pot to
calm my nerves.”

“It’s all good, man.
 
Sorry about your mom,” I tell him.
 
I’m not sure how far I can push him for
information before he suspects I’m a plant.
 
He’s a younger guy and I think he isn’t that smart.
 
Maybe he’ll slip up?

“I got bad nerves, too, so I feel
ya
there, man,” I tell him, hoping that’s enough for him to
offer some sort of clue on the matter.

He leans in closely as if his place is
bugged.

“Hey, listen, you can’t tell anyone this
or that dude will kick my ass from here to
Hayleysville
.
 
It’s Boris.
 
He gave me the pot.
 
He’s a cool
dude.
 
Don’t say
nothin
’
or he’ll get his ass kicked out of the club.”

Bingo.

“Your secret is safe with me.
 
I
dunno
that Boris
guy all that well.
 
Is he a cool
brother?”

“Fuck yes.
 
He told me he’s got a shipment of the shit coming in.
 
Not only that, but he’s bragging about some
big score he’s got
comin
’.”

“A big score?
 
Anything we can get in on?” I ask
inquisitively.

“
Naw
, he says
that it’s a one-off thing, but it’s a fucking boatload of cash.”

“Man, that sucks,” I tell him.
 
“I really need to get some parts for my bike
soon.”

“You should see Jack, the Road
Manager.
 
That dude’s got a shit ton of
extra parts and shit,” he tells me.

I clink beer bottles with Scott and feel
like his friend already.
 
Boris is in
some deep shit.
 

Two hours after sitting there shooting the
shit, I get up with a yawn and say, “I
gotta
run.
 
I got shit to do, man, but thanks
for the beers.”

“Sure thing, man.
 
Anytime.
 
Lemme
know if you want the hookup, if you know
what I mean.”

He gestures like he’s taking a puff of a
cigarette and his meaning is crystal clear.
 

I walk outside of the door, closing it
behind me.
 
Walking down the stairs, I
consider my options here.
 
If I bust
Boris for being a pot dealer, then maybe Scott will go down, too, for a one-time
thing.
 
Boris is up to no good, though,
and I need to figure him out.

I rev up the engine to my motorcycle and
head out.
 
Back on the winding roads, I
twist and turn until I’m far enough away from Hinton Heights.
 
I pull over at a gas station, check my
surroundings and then pull out my cell phone.

Dialing my father’s number, I feel pangs
of guilt.
 
I shouldn’t be talking to the
Dragons under false pretenses, and it’s only a matter of time before
they
 
figure
me out.

“Hey,” I say into the phone.

“Hey what?” my father blathers on the
other end.

“We need to talk,” I tell him.

“So fucking talk,” he says gruffly.

“In person,” I demand.

“Alright, come to the club.
 
You know the place.”

“On my way.”

“See
ya
,” he
says, disconnecting the call.

My father has always been one tough son of
a bitch.
 
He’s tall, thin and wrinkled,
but none of that should ever be mistaken for weakness.