Isaac sighed. “Yeah, it was. We killed a girl right here in this clubhouse once, to make her father hurt. She hadn’t done shit to us. Doin’ her sent us down a real bad road. And that’s on me.”
“That ain’t it, Isaac,” Len challenged. “That girl was a fox in our henhouse, remember? She came in like club pussy, snuggled up to the patches, and gave her old man intel that got Show’s whole family hurt, and his girl Daisy killed. That bitch deserved what we gave her. It was ugly, and yeah, doin’ it sent us to hell and back, but she earned it. You gotta set that weight down someday.” He looked around at the other patches. “Far’s I know, Leigh’s never hurt us. But she can. She can burn us to the ground with this.”
Again, Badger punched the bar top. “FUCK! What the fuck is goin’ on? We got the fuckin’ shit in the quarry, now we got Gary wrapped up in the van, and we’re standing here talking about putting his wife with him—how the hell do we got bodies pilin’ up again? We haven’t worked dark like this in twenty fuckin’ years.”
“Why’d he shoot Tommy?” Thumper asked. “You said he shot as soon as Tommy got out the van—why the fuck’d he do that, if he didn’t fuck with Ms. Freeman?”
“When has the Horde showin’ up at his place ever meant anything good?” Isaac pointed out.
The old man was right. Gary was—had been—a habitual fuckup, and the Horde had put hurt on him repeatedly as punishment. He’d earned those punishments, but it made sense he’d be afraid of the club.
Cox chimed in, keeping the conversation on a productive track before Badger’s existential crisis went around the whole club. “There’s got to be a way to keep Leigh quiet. She’s got no family? Nothing?”
Double A answered. “No. She’s got nothing. But maybe that’s the play. Can we pay her off?”
“What’s a husband worth these days?” Zaxx asked with black irony. “You know, on the open market.”
Regaining his equilibrium, Badger stood up tall and said, “Paying her off is just kicking the can down the road. She’s a messy bitch, and she’ll be trying to up the ante every chance she gets. Somebody go back, make her more comfortable—but keep her tied. I’m calling Dom and Bart. There’s gotta be a depth they can dig to strike something we can use. Doin’ her is still on the table, but Jesus fuck, if we go there, I don’t know how we come back.”
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~oOo~
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The woman really had nothing.
By two o’clock in the morning, while Tommy slept through his post-op drugs and all the patches were gathered in the Hall except Saxon and Kellen, who’d stayed on hospital watch, it was clear that there was nothing for Dom and Bart, two high-level intel experts, to find. No leverage but fear and money.
She was already as afraid as they could make her, but that would wear off eventually.
“We fix up her place and pay her a salary,” Showdown suggested. “Not a lump sum, but we keep it comin’, so she’s dependent on us. Enough that it would hurt her to lose it, but not so much it hurts us to pay it. That’s leverage to keep her quiet.”
“That’s good!” Bart said. “We can make the story that Gary had a heart attack, and he had life insurance.”
“And if she makes a play for a raise?” Isaac asked.
“Depends on when and how she does it,” Badger answered, clearly interested in this idea. “Ten years from now, maybe it’s right to give her more. Cost of living increase, like. Ten weeks from now, or too big a play, then it’s a problem.”
“If it’s a problem,” Thumper said, “I guess we’re back to the final solution.”
Cox scowled at him. “Really? Nazi talk?”
“Huh?”
Zaxx backhanded Thumper in his beer belly. “Bruh. ‘Final solution’s’ what Hitler called the Holocaust.”
“Oh. Sorry, didn’t know. I meant kill—”
“We know what you meant!” Badger barked. “Shut up, asshole.”
Thumper shut up.
Badger sighed for about the thousandth time this accursed night. “Okay. This idea is full of fault lines, but it’s the best we got, so let’s make it a plan. Dub, you and me figure out what to give her. I don’t want Kel involved in this, so I’m glad he’s in Rolla. Len, go tell her she’s gonna be okay but put the fear of the Mane in her while you do it. Isaac, will you call Ben Kellogg and get him on board?”
Badger had trouble giving Isaac an order; he always framed it as a question. Same with Showdown. Everybody else got an order, but Isaac and Show got a request.
Ben Kellogg owned a funeral home in Springfield. It had been long years since the Horde had needed illicit help from a mortician, but Ben’s father had helped the club in the dark days, and they still used Kellogg & Son Memorial Services for their normal burying needs. Like his father, Ben was a friend of the club.