Page 65 of Givin' Me Fitz!
“Hello?” It was Dallas, and he wasn’t out of breath. His husband owned a fancy restaurant in one of the newer hotels and casinos in Vegas, The Intercontinental. I guessed they had a good life.
“Hey, Dallas. It’s me, Fitz Morgan. Is this a bad time?”
“Naw. I’m just watching a TV show while I wait for Rafe to finish up at the restaurant. How the hell are you, Fitz?”
“I’m good, man. Working for Sparky. Got my license and have gone on a few hunts out of town. You know the drill. That’s why I’m calling you. When you worked for ATF, did you know a fella named Ricky Marlow?”
“Uh, Ricky Marlow? How’d you hear that name?”
That was disconcerting. “So, youhaveheard of him?”
“Where are you?” Dallas sounded worried.
“I’m at home. I live on East Windmill, not far from Sparky’s office.”
“There’s a small slot place on South Jones. Sierra Slots. Can you meet me there for a beer in half an hour?”
I glanced down at my flannel lounge pants. I’d changed after Sawyer called me, but it wouldn’t take a minute to get dressed again. “I’ll meet you there. I know where it is.”
We ended the call, and I pulled out a gray Henley and a pair of jeans, dressing quickly. My stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything for dinner, and I knew the place had pretty good food, so if Dallas didn’t know anything about Marlow that might hint at him being involved in shady shit, I’d at least get to eat.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked into Sierra Slots. I glanced around the place, seeing Dallas at a high-top across from the bar.
“Hey, man, congratulations on getting married.” He stood and shook my hand before I sat across from him.
“Thanks. We’re coming up on a year pretty soon. We’re headed to New York for the family Christmas dinner that Rafe makes every year, and then we’re going back to Italy with the family for a party his parents want to throw. How are you settling into life in Vegas?” Dallas looked good. Marriage seemed to suit him.
“I’m good. Work’s good. What are you doin’ these days?”
“I’ve been on a few bond cases here in town. I guess Sparky’s hired enough guys that he hasn’t needed me.”
The server came and took our orders, and when she walked away, I could see Dallas was ready to get down to brass tacks. “So, about Marlow…”
I sighed. “I’m dating Sawyer Abbott.”
“You’re dating the president of the Pahrump Steel Cowboys? That’s kind of a surprise.”
I nodded. “And Marlow is a patched member of the club. What do you know about the guy?”
“He was fired not long after I went undercover with the Scorpions. The Bureau let him resign, but it was all damn fishy. As far as I know, he was never charged with anything, and a lot of rumors were bandied about, though nothing was confirmable.” Dallas glanced around the room, but there weren’t many people in the place, and most of them sat around the U-shaped bar playing video poker or slots.
“Did you know him personally?”
He shook his head. “Never met him. I didn’t really know many of the guys who worked at the Bureau. I only had contact with my handler and the SAIC over the task force.”
“What was the purpose of the task force, if you can tell me.” Some of that shit might still be pending, though if I remembered correctly, the Scorpions who were arrested during the raid Dallas was referencing were still in jail, along with those who tried to steal an assload of drugs from the cartel. He wasn’t involved in the Bureau anymore.
Dallas looked around again, seeming satisfied that nobody was paying any attention to us. “We were trying to bust up a gun smuggling ring that involved the Corsica Cartel out of Guadalajara. Our SAIC suggested that Marlow had gone dirty. He’d gone undercover with the Steel Cowboys, and he claimed they had nothing to do with the business of the cartel. My handler intimated that they suspected Marlow was feeding information to the Cowboys that he found out from his handler.
“The Cowboys intercepted a shipment of guns coming up from Guadalajara and sold them to another buyer through their sister club, the Reno Rough Riders. That was how the feud between the clubs originally started. The Cowboys were trying to take over the Scorpions’ territory back then.”
I sighed. It all sounded really fucked up, and as I thought about my Sawyer being involved in shit like that, my chest tightened. “Sawyer is trying to take the club in a more legal direction. They own a few legit businesses around the area now. They’re not doing shady dealings anymore, Dallas.” I hoped I wasn’t being misled.
“I’m not saying your guy isn’t like his old man, but one-percenters don’t change their stripes, Fitz. You’re used to the right side of the law, and these clubs can’t survive there. You need to get the hell away from Sawyer Abbott, man. I know he did a solid for the Torrentes when Giuseppe and Teresa were kidnapped, but Fitz, man, they mess in shit you don’t want to be anywhere near.”
Our food arrived and we changed the subject to talking about the cases he’d been working on. I told him about my recent trip to Tahoe to bring Whitey Crow back. We laughed about how damn dumb skips could be sometimes.
“We’ve got a lot on our plates right now, but I heard of a guy you might want to look into. He’s here in town, and I heard there’s a warrant for him in Atlantic City. Talk to Lawry Schatz about it. The guy set up a fight on November 22. He’ll be at the Ace of Spades Casino on The Old Strip that night. You should drop by.”
