The Bare Bones (The Bare Bones MC) (20 page)

Ford said, “Then you won’t mind if I do my own sweeps.” Turk was their surveillance expert. Ford had his SEAL experience, but he was eager to get back to P&E. He would leave Turk down here to make sure the area was clean.

It was Bloodgood’s turn to tent his fingers. “Of course.”

And Ford’s turn to leap to his feet, holding out a hand for the lawyer to shake. “Good. Then we’re all set!”

“Stay vertical,” said Turk, by way of goodbye.

The three men filed out of the lawyer’s office in the Nogales shopping mall. Slushy was all for hitting up the Krispy Kreme right next door, maybe longing for the Cinnabon franchise he hadn’t been able to manage.

Ford wanted to know something. He steered the former cartel lawyer down the mall, away from the sugary delights. “Slushy. He said it’s been over a year since you’ve used the tunnel. Can you remind me again exactly
who
used to run guns and drugs through there? You said Ochoa didn’t know about it.”

“No, Ochoa didn’t, that’s true.” Slushy was looking here and there, everywhere but into Ford’s eyes. “My main dealings were with a guy named Toreador. That’s all I knew him by. I swear, that guy missed his fifth grade graduation because he had jury duty, that’s how big of a redneck he was. Why, he’d been married three times and still had the same in-laws.”

Turk laughed. He liked redneck jokes, seeing as how he wasn’t one, of course. “Did his Halloween pumpkin have more teeth than his wife?”

Slushy got into the spirit of it. “His stereo speakers used to belong to a drive-in movie.”

Ford slapped Slushy’s chest with the back of his hand. “Listen up. Was he a brother? Did he belong to an MC?” He knew a Toreador who fit that description, and it didn’t bode well.

“If you mean motorcycle club, why, yes, I suppose he did. He had a leather vest—”

“Cut,” corrected Turk.

“—with a sort of death’s skull, you know, like the logo on your vest—”

“Cut,” said Ford.

“—and they had the usual scythe on the back of their vests—”

Ford shared a hostile look with Turk.

“—and, ah, let’s see, I think the word ‘Minion’ was on the back. Yeah, that was it, the Something Minions, and—”

“You’re fucking kidding me! You have
got
to be fucking kidding me, Slushy!”

Ford was so irate he had unintentionally backed the lawyer up against a sign that advertised WingDings. He didn’t notice he was poking Slushy in the chest until Slushy wrapped his good hand around the finger and removed it bodily. “What? What did I say?”

Turk helped out. “Baal’s Minions? We do business with them, man!”

Huffing and puffing, Ford walked in tiny circles to blow off steam. “It’s not just
that
, man!” He gesticulated wildly. “I just gave a beatdown to Mack Fucking Sansing at our rally for treating Madison like a pass-around gash!”

“A
beatdown
?” Slushy wanted to know. “A beatdown as defined as something
I
was subjected to the other day? Or just a, you know, run-of-the-mill punching a few times until he gets the picture?”

Ford exhaled in a whoosh as he surveyed the horizon. “Like the one you had,” he said offhandedly. “Listen. Why did they stop using the tunnel?”

Slushy shrugged. “The old man died and Mrs. Jonas wouldn’t renew the contract. She was against it until her circumstances recently made it necessary for her to renew. She didn’t want to renew it with this Mr. Fucking Sansing guy. Probably for the same reasons you gave him a beatdown.”

Ford got riled again, throwing up his hands. “Great, just fucking great! That’s abso-fucking-lutely great, Slushy, do you know that? So you don’t think that Baal’s Minions are lurking around just waiting to use the tunnel again?”

Slushy protested, “But they don’t have the contract with Mrs. Jonas. You do! Listen, you think I want to be in on this crappy deal? I didn’t want to see that tunnel again as long as I lived! I just wanted to be a regular sweater-wearing, Trader-Joe-buying, short-story-writing kinda guy! I support the troops but not the war, you know.”

Turk said, “Slushy’s right. As long as we stay off the Minion’s radar, there’s no reason we can’t operate the tunnel. We haven’t even sold them any AKs in a coon’s age.”

“Language!” warned Slushy.

Turk was confused. “What? I was talking about a raccoon.”

Slushy shuddered. “You weren’t just in the joint. It’s a highly PC place. So listen, Ford. Turk here’s going to install cameras tomorrow on the only access road to the tunnel. Unless the Minions are planning on piggybacking the
suministros
out of there one by one, unlikely seeing as how in a couple months Nogales will be hot enough to burn a polar bear’s butt, my professional opinion is that you’re perfectly fine. The Minions are over it now. Losing their contract was just collateral damage to Mr. Jonas’ death. What would they’ve done if Mrs. Jonas had sold the property? Force the new owners to do business with them?”

Ford said, “Or carry on the business without the new owner’s knowledge. Turk, you got everything you need to get those eyes on the access road?”

Turk nodded. “I’ve got the credit card. I’ll just go to Radio Shack tomorrow morning.”

“I’d like to head back to P&E tonight,” said Ford.

Slushy said, “Okay if I head back in the truck with Wild Man? There’s nothing in there but beer now, right? I mean, as a guy on probation from a federal money laundering stint, I can’t be seen riding with any serious iron.”

Ford sighed. “Let’s go get a Krispy Kreme. Sure, you can go in the truck. It’s empty. But you bring up a good point. You’re on probation. You’ve got fed eyes on you. Do we really want you staying at the Citadel?”

“Listen. I don’t think I
want
to stay at the Citadel, from the sounds of things. You mentioned an archery range? That sounds about my speed. I mean, I was up the river for six months. I’m out of the loop. I don’t even know what the big brouhaha is about kale.”

“Yeah,” laughed Turk. “Last I checked, it was some leafy green everyone was intent on avoiding. Suddenly it’s trendy.”

“Am I right? I just want to kick back and drink my single malt scotch and complain about the death of print media.”

“Listen, don’t worry, Slushy,” said Ford, holding the Krispy Kreme’s door open for the lawyer. “We’ve got you covered. We didn’t trade all that iron for you for nothing. Laser tag doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Were you planning on riding a Vespa, too? We’ve got some scooters lying around you could have.”

“I’m more of a Prius man. Hey, you told Mr. Bloodgood to stay vertical. What does that mean?”

“It’s a biker thing,” Ford explained, perusing the donut menu on the wall. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll get used to all of it.”

MADISON

“W
ell, I can’t say as I’m surprised.” Dominique stalked back and forth across the tiles of the little cell I’d been designated for a room. She did wear a “property of” patch on the back of her white leather jacket, of course hers saying “Duji.” She sported the leather halter top and low-slung jeans of the stereotypical old lady, but Dominique accented her outfit with a string of pearls and rings that must have been family heirlooms. So she didn’t come from trash. She’d been with Duji forever.

She lit a cigarette and went on. “They did a similar thing to me when I was about your age.”

“Cropper?”

“Cropper and Riker. This was before he went to Riker’s Island, by the way, so he wasn’t even as hardened.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“Yeah, right?” Dominique squinted against her cig smoke as she gazed out the window at the red buttes. “Anyway, right when Duji started showing interest in me as an old lady, that’s when it started. It’s like they can’t stand seeing someone else nail a woman, claim her, make her his. The sweetbutts, the pass-arounds, of course they don’t matter. But once a woman becomes elevated beyond that station, suddenly Cropper’s got a bee up his ass. I’ll wager a guess that it’s even more intense because it’s his son. He and Torino have got a massively oedipal competition thing going on.”

“Is that so?” I sat on my knees, enraptured with her words. Plus, I’d never heard anyone actually use “oedipal” in a sentence before. Dominique seemed educated.

“Oh, yeah. It’s always just been the two of them since Cropper gave the boot to Torino’s mother. And since Torino grew into such a stunning and foxy little colt, Cropper’s been green with envy. I’m sure you don’t want to hear how Torino landed all the girls that Cropper wished he could bed.”

“I don’t mind. I know he’s been around the block. So what did they do to you?”

Dominique shrugged, emitting a thin stream of smoke out the window. “They sent Duji off on some dangerous run, just to keep him away. They basically did the same thing to me as what they’re doing to you. Basically a rite of passage to see what I’d tell Duji when he got back. They cut the tits out of my T-shirt, made me wear a miniskirt with no panties on, and any member could play grab-ass with me.”

“But nothing was…forced on you?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “What exactly do you mean? Rape? No, nothing that bad. It went on for about three days before Duji got back. I think the worst thing was Cropper forced me to give him a blowjob.”

“Ugh.” My stomach actually clenched at the fleeting thought, so I banished it from my mind. “So me making it through this has something to do with them accepting me into the club?”

“Well, you’re never ‘in’ the club. Only male members are. But yes, I think if you fail they would somehow let the member know their displeasure and you probably wouldn’t be an old lady for long.”

“So the others went through it? Julie? Sapphire? Brunhilda?”

Again, Dominique shrugged and spit smoke out the window. “I don’t think
all
did. Maybe just you and me. You know what I think? I think it creates an even bigger challenge to wear your ‘property of’ patch with pride. Because you
have
to have self-esteem to wear the patch. You had a collar, am I right?”

“Yes. Ford gave me a collar, but Cropper took it. Temporarily only, I hope.”

“Right. Same basic thing as a ‘property of’ patch.”

“Only a bit more BDSM-y.”

Dominique smiled. “Right. But you can’t feel bad about yourself and defend the patch, or the collar. Hell, I feel worse about what I weigh than about this patch that seems to irk so many women. This is why you
have
to think highly of yourself to ward off all the bad press you’re going to get, all the shocked finger-pointing. Think how much tougher you’ll be once you go through this trial by fire. Then you’ll
really
deserve to wear Property. You’ll never put your back against a wall when you’re wearing Property.”

I stuck out my lower lip. “Because I’ll be property of
Ford
, that’s why. I’m never getting in the same
building
as his creepy father again.”

“You’ll have to, honey. Think of all the fish fries, the rallies, the charity runs. We’re all going to do the Laughlin River Run next year. You can’t really avoid him, realistically. He’s going to be your father-in-law. He’s going to visit your house, have dinner with you.”

I held my stomach. “And every time I see him, I’ll remember this awful week.”

Dominique flicked her cig out the window. “No, you won’t, honey. It’ll fade in time. And think, you’ll be more respected because once men see your patch they won’t try to hit on you. They won’t try to push up on you. You’ll have no worries, you’ll be carefree like I am, because the patch gives you freedom. Then you’ll be part of a larger tribe who all take care of each other.”

I snorted. “Do you think Cropper will really give Speed his cut once I pass this test?”

Dominique nodded soberly. “Oh, shit yeah. Shit yeah he will. He doesn’t and a whole lot of stink’ll be raised. That would be a new low even for Cropper. Listen. Next week come and talk to other properties. I’ll have a little tea for you at my house. You don’t need to mention what went on here with Cropper and Riker, just ‘cause, you know…”

“It’s tacky?”

“Tacky, exactly. We’ve all been through our trials, we all carry our burdens. No one’s going to agree on everything, but we all support our club so you need to get to know them. I’m glad you came to me, honey. Now you’ll get the real deal, straight from the horse’s mouth.”

“Yes, Ford told me to call you. I had no phone. That’s why I had to steal Riker’s.”

Dominique smiled affectionately. “Listen. I’ll do you a solid. I’ll call Ford for you.”

You wouldn’t believe how my heart leapt at that! Just knowing that I was talking to a person who would soon talk to Ford meant the world to me. Was I already falling prey to Stockholm Syndrome? “Yes, yes! And let me know what he says! Find out when he’s coming back.”

“I’ll do that. Tomorrow, you think? Are you on The Pill?”

“Yes, but I thought you said that…wouldn’t happen. That I won’t need it.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that, but you really never know. My recommendation? Just lie back and let them do what they want. Speed will get his cut, Ford will come back, no one will be the wiser, and you never have to deal with Cropper again face to face.”