Page 3 of Pay the Price

“We know it,” I said, because the logging road was a good spot to meet up when you didn’t want everyone in town to know you were meeting up.

“I was over there the other day, for about an hour,” he said. “Saw a handful of black SUVs head up and down the road. Didn’t look like locals.”

I thought about it. A bunch of black SUVs wasn’t exactly normal for Blackwell Falls, but I wasn’t sure it was anything to write home about either.

“Is that all?” Otis asked.

I realized the waitress had never returned with our coffee, probably because she’d seen Otis drive his fist into Crash’s face.

“Not really,” Crash said. “Buddy of mine works at this smoothie place in Cold Spring. You know it?”

“No, we don’t know the fucking smoothie place in Cold Spring,” Jace said. His patience was wearing thin. I could hear it in the way his voice sounded like a guitar string strung too tight.

“Why don’t you get to the point,” I said. Crash wasn’t going to be able to tell us anything if he was unconscious.

“I was at the smoothie place, talking to my buddy? This was a couple days after I saw the SUVs,” Crash said. “Anyway, I was standing there, shooting the shit, and this massive dude walks in wearing…” Crash stopped like he was struggling for words.

“Wearing what?” Otis asked.

“Not military clothes,” Crash said. “Not exactly. But… I don’t know, black pants and a black T-shirt. And when he went to pay, I saw that he was packing some serious heat.”

“Keep talking,” I said. There was more. I could feel it.

“So the guy doesn’t look like a local and he’s wearing these…. I don’t know, military-type clothes and carrying a gun. He orders a smoothie and a salad, and when he leaves, my buddy says he’s been in every day ordering the exact same things for the past week.”

I was starting to see it, the pieces shuffling into place like one of those sliding puzzles where you had to move them around to form the picture.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“So he pays, and when he leaves I see him get into a black SUV, like the ones I saw on the logging road. And I don’t know, man…” Crash shrugged. “It felt weird. Like he was some kind of… soldier, or security guard. Not someone from around here. And I thought if there were more of them, if they were out on the logging road, maybe it had something to do with your girl.”

My brain was working the puzzle, sliding the pieces.

“That all?” Jace asked.

“Yeah man, that’s all,” Crash said, clearly annoyed by Jace’s lack of excitement. “You think you can talk to Ax? Put in a word?”

“Why’d you steal from the club?” Otis asked.

It was a fair question, but I’d already moved on, was already thinking about what we’d do with the information Crash had given us.

“I needed the scratch,” Crash said. “Money trickles down slow in the club.”

“And why do you think that is?” Otis asked, like a teacher prodding a student for an answer the teacher already had.

“They say we have to pay our dues, earn their trust,” Crash muttered, leaning back in the booth.

Otis stood. “Doesn’t sound like you’ve earned their trust.”

Jace and I slid out of the booth and got to our feet.

“Thanks for the tip,” I said.

Jace stared down at Crash, disgust written on his face. “Ax’s cousin owns this place, so you might need a new meeting spot.”

“What?” Crash’s gaze darted around the diner, but Jace was already on his way out the door.

I followed with Otis on my heels and we all stepped out into the warm summer morning.

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