Page 68 of Ruthless

Chapter 26

Rebel

I'd told Ginger that I was going to look for a house, and I intended to, but finding Daryl and Jack was my first fucking priority. After I'd dropped her off at the hospital, I headed to the pier to see Pinkie. My gut told me that if Daryl owed the Kings drug money then he'd be hiding from them, which meant that he'd have to get his drugs through another channel. Junkies always managed to find money for their next fix. I parked my bike, glancing toward the direction of the pier. I could see Pinkie from where I was standing, peddling his cheap beach towels and t-shirts, which was nothing but a front for his real business. To make sure that he threw the cops off, he gave a t-shirt or towel to every junkie who came by to buy drugs from him to give off the appearance of being legit, and every once in a while someone came by who actually wanted the cheap crap that he sold.

My phone buzzed just as I got off my bike. I dug it out of my pocket and leaned against my bike, seeing that it was Jace. Good. I'd been waiting for his call. He was supposed to touch base with me and Moody after he returned the girl to her Politian father and got the payoff.

"Got some good news, brother?"

He laughed. "Yep! Dropped the girl off, money's in the bank. I'm on my way back now. I talked to Moody, he said your girl managed to escape on her own. Hate that I had to leave."

"Yeah, she's small but feisty, and don't worry about it, man. Bad timing. I'm here at the pier looking for the fucker who took her now."

"Why the pier?"

"He's a junkie. He screwed himself over with the Kings, but he'll need to get his fix somewhere."

"Pinkie?"

"That's what I'm thinking. Daryl's days are numbered. I’ve got half of Daytona looking for his ass."

"What about the Kings? You get any blowback from them?"

"Not yet." I'd been watching Pinkie from where I stood, and I noticed that he was packing up his shit. "Listen, looks like Pinkie spotted me and is getting ready to move. I'll talk to you later." I ended the call and began to walk toward the beach.

Pinkie's movements told me that he was in a hurry. I grinned at the nervous look on his face that even his busy, unkempt beard couldn't disguise. Every few moments his gaze shot up to me to see if I was still heading his way. Pinkie was the kind of person who looked guilty of something even when he wasn't, and when he saw something that looked like trouble heading his way, he was quick to run.

He was just about to push his cart away when I stopped him. "Hey, Pinkie, long time no see," I said in a friendly tone, putting my hand on his bony shoulder.

He came up short and swung around, pretending surprise at seeing me. "Oh, hey there, Rebel." His eye twitched, a nervous tell. "Yeah, it's been a while, man."

"Yeah, I've been out of town the last few years. So what's your hurry?"

He shrugged. "Things are slow. I was just finishing up for the day."

I grinned, rubbing the lower half of my whiskered jaw. It was still early for him to be packing up, but I decided to let it go. We both knew why he was leaving. "You know anyone named Daryl?" Fuck, it suddenly occurred to me that I still didn't know his last name. "Tall, thin guy with shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, pale complexion?" I tried to recall anything that stood out about him, but shit, I'd only met him once. "Hangs with a guy named Jack."

Pinkie gave a nervous laugh. "Sounds like most of my friends." By “friends” he meant the clients that he sold drugs too. "You, ah, interested in a couple of beach towels?"

I knew how to play the game. I dug out some money. "You know them?" I handed him fifty bucks. He picked up a towel and held it up so I could see the huge butterfly on it. It immediately reminded me of the tattoo that Ginger had right above her cute little pussy.

"I only know one Daryl, he used to be a client until he tried to steal some merchandise when he thought I wasn’t looking. I don’t know any Jacks. You like this one?"

I nodded, snatching it from him. "Seen him lately?"

He shook his head, reaching for another towel. "Naw. He'd be stupid to come back around here, haven't seen him in weeks. Talk is the Kings are after him." He unfolded a towel that had kittens and puppies all over it, holding it up for my inspection.

I nodded, taking it from him. "Yeah, there's a few of us looking for him. So who would Daryl go to if he couldn’t come to you?"

We both knew that he knew the other dealers in the area. They all knew one another. They had territories just like the MCs did. I knew some of the dealers in the area, but Pinkie would have a better idea of where Daryl would go.

He grimaced. "Check with that fucker, Keiser, down on Main Street. He hops from bar to bar to sell his shit."

I could tell from his tone that there was no love lost between the two. I knew Keiser, too, but there was so many fucking dealers around I didn't have time to pay them all a visit, but at least I had a place to start. “You see Daryl, you get in touch with Vinny at Pirate's Cove. You got me?"

"Sure. Sure. I know Vinny. He's a good man." He seemed relieved that that was all I needed from him.

I walked away with the two beach towels hanging from my hand. There was no sense in heading down to Main Street. Keiser wasn't known to come out until after dark, just like the cockroach that he was. He was known for dealing in inferior shit, and word on the street was that more than one overdose had been credited to him.

---