Page 18 of Beast
Sheriff Oscar Williams, we called him Oscar Meyer Weiner, got out of his cruiser and walked to where the two men lay. He stole a glance at the truck resting against two cars. “I’m guessing this was self-defense.” He tipped his hat back and nudged the guns on the ground with his foot. “You about to dump them?”
“About to call you,” I said. The sheriff was in our pocket and had been since he took over six years ago. You bought local law enforcement or spent all your time trapped inside the club.
“Drop them in some concrete, not on Rip Ingles's front porch.” He walked to the covered porch and waved me over. “Feds are looking into your weed business. Gonna try and shut it down.”
“What the fuck do they care about our weed business? It’s chump change compared to the shit coming over the border.”
Oscar removed his hat and placed it on the table. “They’re getting information from inside your club, Beast. Whoever is feeding them is also feeding Ingles and me.”
“You don’t know who it is?”
“Nope. But best be careful.” He pointed at the two men on the pavement. “There’s a construction site on the north side. New houses are going up. Cement will be poured tomorrow.” Oscar put his hat back on and got up. “The club is lucky to have you back, Beast. You be ready for what’s heading your way.”
The sheriff left us to our business, and I went back inside while the Prospect rolled up our guys, including the one still alive, and tossed them in the van.
I found Mark and Skittles at the bar, right where a child should be hanging out. Luckily, he wasn’t sucking down a beer.
“I had Lily set up the spare room in the back. I’ll get him situated at home,” Skittles said. “Diesel went back to his place to get a game console and a spare laptop he’s been holding onto.”
“Mom took my laptop with her,” Mark said.
“What grade are you in?” I asked, not sure what grade a ten-year-old was supposed to be in.
“None.”
“You don’t go to school?” Skittles asked.
“No. Mom says I don’t need to go to school to be smart.” He drank from the can of Coke Skittles put on the counter. She gave him a bag of chips, and he dug right in.
“How’d you learn so much?” The kid spoke better than most of the guys in the club. “My laptop that Mom took. She said you’d buy me another one. I learn from it.”
“Who’s the munchkin?” Brainiac asked. He sat at a table close to the bar and opened his laptop. Mark jumped off the stool and joined him.
“Is that a Zephyrus G14?” Mark asked. His excitement was undeniable.
“Damn straight. Built it out myself. Kicks ass, doesn’t it?” Brainiac pushed a couple of keys, and the laptop sprung to life. He went into some sort of game and Mark moved closer.
“That’s gonna work out great,” I said. “Brainiac, can you hook him up with a machine like yours?”
“Of course.”
“Mark, Skittles and I need to run out for a bit. Can you hang with Brainiac?” I hated to leave him after we just got in, but club business needed my attention.
Mark nodded. “Who’s Skittles?”
“Me,” Melissa said. “It’s my nickname.”
“I’m Brainiac,” Brainiac said. “Because I’m the smartest guy in the club.”
“What’s my nickname.” Mark looked at me for an answer.
I patted him on the shoulder. “Give me a few days, and we’ll have one for you.”
Skittles and I left Mark in Brainiac’s hands, and I fully expected they would solve world hunger while we were gone.
“You think his mother really ran off?” Skittles climbed on behind me.
“Fuck yeah.” I switched on the bike. “Donna’s always been a brick short of a load.”
