I dig through them, but all the identifications have been removed. I find a diner receipt in one of them and the signature for a credit card purchase. It’s signedGilbert Hansen.
There’s a Hansen’s Hardware store on Wallace Avenue. Could this belong to the owner?
The robbers took a lot of wallets that night in my bar. Maybe this guy was there.
The only explanation for these wallets to be in this desk, buried in the back of a drawer, is that they’re guilty.
The confirmation knocks me on my ass. I drop to the cold linoleum.
A second later, headlights flash across the windows, and I scramble to my knees, peering over the desk. It’s the little red truck again.
“Fuck,” I hiss and dash behind the open door.
I hear keys jangle, and the door in the garage open, then footsteps.
“I told you I checked.” Buddy moves toward the back of the building somewhere. “Yes, it’s fucking locked. What are you so fucking afraid of? It’s not like we keep the money here, which, by the way, my cut is almost gone. When’s our next hit? Sure, you don’t have kids to support. I’ve got four mouths to feed, and you pay me shit. Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I checked the fucking locks.”
I hear him pacing across the garage bay.
“Hang on. I can’t hear you. Let me put you on speaker.”
“I said one of the Royal Bastards could be trouble. We need to take care of him.”
My mouth falls open at Remy’s voice.
Buddy chuckles. “Like you took care of the last one who got in our way, Remy? Derek told you that you fucked up with that, but you wouldn’t listen. Ever since then, they’ve been a thorn in our side. Now they’re everywhere.”
I lean back and brush against a bulletin board, knocking a calendar to the floor.
My hand slams over my mouth.
“Wait a minute. I think I heard something.”
A small creature scampers past me across the floor and darts out the door into the garage.
“Only a fucking mouse. Didn’t you put those traps down? I swear the place is crawling with the damn things. Whatever. I’m tired and I’m going home. Call me tomorrow.”
I hear the door slam shut and the deadbolt lock.
I stay motionless until the headlights flash across the windows and disappear.
Then I slip out the door, shut it, and run to my car.
I’m breathing hard when I climb inside and slam the lock down.
My heart is racing all the way to the bar.
What do I do? The MC is going to kill them. Could I be with Keno if he kills my brothers?
Maybe if I turn them in before the MC gets ahold of them, it’ll save their lives. They’ll be in jail, and they’ll hate me for it, but at least they’ll be alive.
It’s late and dark, and I don’t feel like parking in the alley, so I find a spot on the street and go in through the front door.
A late ball game plays on the flat screens, and several groups of guys are playing darts.
Baja’s behind the bar, and his eyes sweep over my outfit and follow me all the way to the backstairs.
I know he plans to close at eleven, and it’s almost that now.