I nod and lead Maggie down the hall before she can start asking questions.
The club is loud, so we don’t talk again until we’re standing by my bike and I’m passing her a helmet. The bullet holes in the wall remind me of the danger of dragging Maggie into my world. The last thing I want to do is put her life in peril, but Rock seems determined to invite her deeper into club activities. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I suppose this isn’t the worst event for her to attend.
“What party?” she asks.
“At the clubhouse. It’s his ol’ lady’s birthday. Lots of the women will be there, so it shouldn’t be too rowdy.”
“Why would he invite me?” she asks with a frown.
“Well, the club does business with you. Heisyour partner.”
“Yes, but I’ve always stayed clear of them and their activities. The business is all the connection I need.”
“Maybe this is a good time to change all that.”
“Why would I want to change?”
“Because like it or not, you are associated with the club, albeit peripherally. Rock is a decent guy. He loves his ol’ lady. For whatever reason, he wants to include you. I wouldn’t tell him no, and I sure don’t want to show up tomorrow night and tell him you didn’t care enough to attend. That would kind of be an insult, Six.”
She bites her lip.
“Look, Evelyn is a sweetheart. You can come, stay for a bit, and we can sneak out and I’ll take you home. How about that?”
“Promise?”
I grin. “Would you believe me?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Climb on. Let’s go.”
As we pull out, I can’t help worrying that whoever these guys are, they’ve now targeted two of the club’s businesses. I wonder if the clubhouse itself is next.
When I drop Maggie off, the place is locked up and dark. I pull into the back alley.
Climbing off the bike, I take the helmet she passes me. “Let me walk you up. Make sure it’s safe.”
“That’s not necessary,” she replies, pulling out her key.
“I’d feel better if I make sure.” I take the key from her hand and stick it in the lock. While she locks the door behind us, I take a quick walkthrough of the bar area, then return to where she waits at the back stairs.
“Satisfied?” she asks.
“Not yet.” I take the stairs ahead of her, and she unlocks the door. Then I step through and do a walkthrough while she turns on the lamps. The place is small but cute, with a living area overlooking Main and a kitchen overlooking the alley. There’s a back door onto the fire escape, and I check it. It’s locked and has a good deadbolt. I don’t like the fact that there’s a window that could easily be smashed in and that lock could be reached.
She has a tiny fridge and stove and a small table to eat at.
A short hallway leads to a bathroom and a bedroom.
My eyes hit the bed. It’s wrought iron painted cream with a girly blue and white quilt on it. A small stuffed bear sits against the pillows.
My mind flashes back to the day Hurricane Gustav hit St. Bernard Parish, back in New Orleans.
“Remember the night of the storm?” I ask.
She nods. “How could I forget? Dad and my brothers were out of town at a race in Indianapolis. My mother was stuck caring for patients at the nursing home she worked at. She couldn’t get home.”
I nod. “I was home watching reports of how the president of Plaquemines Parish was ordering 150 vessels and barges moved. They were worried about the levee system. He ordered the sinking of any boats that remained. I later heard they’d sunk seventy of them before the storm hit. I knew we were in for a bad one when they resorted to that kind of thing.”