Page 59 of Rio's Release

“Out at the gas station off the interstate couple of days ago.” She studies my face. “What happened to you? You okay?”

“Yeah. You ever heard of a company called Right Way Plumbing?” I ask.

“There’s no company by that name in this town.”

I nod. “You still got my number?”

“Yes, sir.” She pats her apron pocket. “Keep it close.”

“Call me if you see that other club again.”

“Sure. They got a name?”

“The Devil Kings. You see ‘em, steer clear, understand? You do not want to mess with those guys.”

She taps the table. “The meatloaf is good today.”

I watch her back as she walks away, then look at Zig. “The day she saw them might have been the day they jumped me.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” He sips his coffee. “Big Ed is still in charge, from what I’ve been able to find out from the EvilDead MC in California. They’ve been on the outs with them for years, and I’m starting to think they had something to do with Taz’s disappearance years ago. They offered to help us out if we need.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Last thing I need is to owe the Evil Dead a marker.”

“I get that. Still, the offer stands. I talked with their VP, Crash. He took it to his president. Guy by the name of Cole.”

“You ever had any dealings with the Evil Dead, Zig?”

“Nope, other than seeing some of ‘em at Daytona Bike Week a few years ago. But when we were back east while you were locked up, I heard tell the VP from the Nevada chapter—a guy named Trick—had a run in with the mafia. They say he flew all the way to New York to make a deal with Franco Santorini, the head of the Santorini Crime Family. Heard he walked bold as brass right into the Italian Club in the Bronx and asked for a meet. That takes balls, man. ‘Course that could just be a rumor.”

I rub my hands together and stare out the window. “We’ve got to get some more guys. There are only six of us. That’s not enough to go to war.”

“There’s a small club in El Paso. Maybe we could patch them over,” Zig muses.

“I’m not up for a trip to El Paso right now. You want to make a run down there and check them out?”

“Sure.”

Movement out the window catches my eye, and I watch Deputy Carson pull his squad car over and start writing a ticket.

I grin. “Let’s have some fun.”

Zig follows me outside, and we stroll over to him.

He glares at us but doesn’t say a word.

I fold my arms. “Rip it up.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Rip up the ticket.”

“It’s already in the system.”

Taking a step toward him, I give him a murderous look. “Maybe I need to take a ride by your house tonight. See if we can find any more photos of you.”

He deletes what he’s typing into his handheld device, climbs into his car, and roars out.

Zig grins. “That was fun. We should do it more often.”

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