Page 82 of Sweet Pea

Sweet Pea

Minus’s phone buzzed.

“Unknown number. This has got to be him,” he said, holding the phone up.

“Okay, showtime,” Agent Jaxon Quinn said, quieting the room.

Minus answered and put the call on speakerphone.

“This is Minus.”

“You been getting my messages?” Wolf asked.

“I heard you wanted to talk, so let’s talk.” Minus said.

“We alone?”

Minus wasn’t about to tell him about the team of F.B.I. agents in the room listening to the call, or the one currently embedded in his club but didn’t want to seem suspicious either.

“No,” he replied. “Clutch is here with me.

“That’s basic human anatomy, isn’t it?” Wolf asked. “The asshole is always near the pussy.”

“What do you want, Wolf?”

“Same as you, Minus. Peace,” Wolf said, in a syrupy sweet tone.

Just hearing Wolf pretend to want peace made my flesh crawl. We didn’t know what he was up to, but a peace summit it most certainly was not.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I have a hard time believing that,” Minus replied.

“My dear Minus, any recent tragedies your club may have suffered have nothing to do with me.” Wolf poured on the fake legalese.

Taxi was right. Wolf was careful not to incriminate himself. He may have been a psychopath, but he was smart enough to know someone could always be listening. It’s what made me so nervous about the FBI’s plan. On the other hand, it’s also what made the plan, and my involvement necessary in the first place.

“I don’t care about any of that now, I just want for our clubs to make peace and negotiate terms we can both live with.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Minus, but I’m nervous you won’t be willing to do what it takes to make me feel comfortable with having a sit down.”

“Set the terms,” Minus said coolly.

“Only our mutual friend could settle this thing between us, but I hear he had a bad wreck and is in the hospital,” Wolf said.

“I could make that happen,” Minus said. “It might take a couple of days to arrange transportation, but I’ll do it if it means peace.”

“If you can get our friend to a meeting place, I’ll talk to him. Alone,” Wolf said.

“I think you and I need to speak, don’t you?”

“No. I want to see our friend, alone. If I like what he has to say, then you and I can meet. Those are my terms. Take ’em or leave ’em, farm boy.”

“Time and place.”

“Tomorrow night, 10:00 P.M. at Cliff’s old place. You know the spot I’m talking about?”

“I know it,” Minus replied, looking at Agent Quinn, who was signaling for him to keep going.

“If I show up and catch one whiff of shit on anyone’s shoe within a five-mile radius, it’s all over. You understand?”

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