37. Chapter 37
I’m pacing, wearing a hole in the floor, up and down the hall in front of Hangman’s office. Why the fuck is it taking so long?
I’m sick that someone has X and her life is hanging in the balance. Not someone. That scumbag, Moliter. I want him dead. I want him to know he’s about to die. I want his wife to see it happen because Lorraine’s in on this. The way she was watching us in the club, she knows every fucking detail.
Hangman is sitting behind his desk, waiting for his phone to ring when a loud yell makes us jump. A bunch of shingles drop past the window and crash to the ground.
“Jesus Christ!” Hangman jerks to his feet and stalks by me, motioning me to follow.
We head outside and over to the other side of the yard. “We’re not going to hear a fucking thing with all the hammering.”
I scrub a hand over the top of my head. “What’s taking so long?”
“I guess they’re being paid by the hour.” Hangman glares at the roofers.
“Not the fuckin’ roofers.” I point at his phone. “Why hasn’t the prick called?”
As if on cue, Hangman’s phone rings.
He puts it on speaker after he picks up. “What!” he snarls. That’s his version of hello.
“You want the bitch. We want the coke.” It isn’t Moliter. Not ass-kissing enough.
Hangman and I exchange glances. “Who the fuck is this?” he says.
“That’s not important. What’s important is that you got thirty minutes to get here.”
“No!” Hangman barks.
“What the fuck!” I snarl.
He flattens his hand towards me.
“What the fuck do you mean ‘no’?” the guy on the phone says.
“You fucking sonofabitch. Do you know who you’re dealing with? I’ll put your tiny balls in a vise, twist them the fuck off and feed them to you. Then I’ll make you swallow every fucking ounce of the coke.”
There’s a pregnant pause, then in a voice far less certain than before, the guy on the phone says, “It’s the only way you’ll see the bitch again.”
“You tell fucking Moliter that he’s the only one I’m gonna negotiate with.”
A lengthy pause, then, “Who?”
“Don’t you fuckin’ play games with me. Moliter. On the phone. Five minutes.” Then he hangs up.
“Jesus Christ!” I shout at him. “Are you fuckin’ nuts?”
He ignores me. “Coyote! Get your sorry ass out here!”
It’s like Coyote was waiting for the summons as he comes bolting out of the clubhouse.
Hangman meets him half-way, rattles off the phone number of the caller. “You got less than five fucking minutes to find the address.”
“On it.” Coyote disappears back inside.
I glare at Hangman. “You might have got her killed.”
“Her killed? I’m more worried about what shall do to the fucks who took her.”
“Hangman!” My hands curl into fists. I’m fighting the urge to pummel him.
“Give your fuckin’ head a shake. This is a negotiation and we can’t let them think we’re weak. Moliter has been fucking around on our territory, doing something he shouldn’t be doing, because if he was just passing the drugs through Reno, once he knew your girlfriend or whatever the fuck she is, was protected by the club, he would’ve called and explained the problem.”
It’s all been said before and he’s right, but my stomach is twisted in knots. “You’re playing games with her life.”
“Bullshit. She’s still alive and she’ll stay that way.”
He sounds convincing, but we both know he’s full of shit.
Coyote comes outside just as Hangman’s phone rings again.
Hangman picks up, putting it on speaker. “This fucking better be you, Moliter, or I’m gonna burn Reno trying to find you.” He tips the phone towards Coyote, who nods.
There’s a moment of silence, then a sigh. “Yeah. It’s me.”
“You prick,” I snarl.
“Shut him up,” he says to Coyote, who grabs me and half-drags me several feet away from Hangman.
I swing at him. “Get your fucking hands off me.”
“Then cool off,” he hisses as he ducks. “And stay put. I have to check out the number.”
“What’d ya want, Moliter?” Hangman says as he glances at Coyote’s retreating back.
“The girl you’ve been protecting helped her boyfriend take a kilo of coke. I want it back.”
“So you snatch her by T-boning the truck of one of mine? You stupid, stupid fuck.”
“That wasn’t my idea.”
“You’re lucky your stooges didn’t kill my brother. There’d be nothing of left of you.”
There’ll be nothing left of him, anyway.
“Listen,” Moliter says, his voice coming out of the phone like he’s a cool surfer dude. “One of my guys got a little carried away. I told him to get the girl. I didn’t tell him to try to kill anyone.”
“You gotta fuckin’ hire smarter guys. But that don’t matter. You got our girl. We want her back.”
“I get it. You can have her back,” Moliter says. “But I need that coke, Hangman.”
“What are you playing at? You could’ve told us the problem once you knew we were involved. We’d have given it back. We got no problem with you moving the drugs through Reno as long as you don’t stop for breakfast.”
I can almost hear Moliter thinking. “I wasn’t planning on operating on your territory. It got out of hand. Cartel’s involved, pressuring me to get the coke on the streets.” He’s signed his own death warrant and by the hollowness in his voice he knows it. “I gotta have that coke back. The girl’s my insurance.”
“Maybe you’re overrating the importance of the girl.”
Hangman shakes his head as my fists curl.
“I have the feeling I’m not.”
“She still alive?” Hangman asks as a chill snakes down my spine. “Because anything less than that, and it’s all over.”
“Of course, she’s still alive. And in one piece. Give me back the coke, then I’ll disappear. You’ll never see me again.”
Hangman pauses. “Okay. I can live with that.” He sounds all reasonable now. Like it’s no longer a negotiation, but a contractual agreement. “You give the girl back, I give the coke to you. Then you leave Reno. I don’t give a fuck about your problems in Mexico. I don’t want you in my town. I don’t want you in my state. You don’t come back. You understand?”
“Yeah,” Moliter says with resignation mingled with relief. “None of my guys die, either.”
My spine’s stiff. My arms are crossed. I’m vibrating from the inside out. I know I’m about to go rogue no matter what promises Hangman makes to the fuck who ordered the kidnapping of my girl.
Hangman looks at me sharply as if sensing my growing fury. He bares his teeth and stabs a finger at me. To Moliter, he says, “I ain’t gonna kill anyone, asshole. I’m not a fucking psychopath.”
He is, actually.
Coyote materializes next to me. “Take it easy, brother,” he murmurs. “We’re going to work it out.”
Hangman returns his attention to the conversation. “I don’t do someone unless they earn it. This don’t give you a free pass, though. You come back to Reno, everyone dies including Lorraine.”
“She’s not involved. Leave her out of it,” Moliter pleads.
“Don’t fucking care,” Hangman grunts.
Moliter rattles off an address on Industrial Road in Reno. A fucking warehouse. Why is it always a fucking warehouse? “Bring the coke, we do the deal.”
“Thirty minutes. You fucking be there.”
“I can’t,” Moliter lies like the coward he is. “I’m in New Mexico. My guys will make the exchange.”
Coyote raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Reno,” he mouths to Hangman.
Hangman nods.
To Moliter, he says, “Already turned tail? At least you’re out of my city. You tell your guys to have the girl ready.”
He hangs up. “The fucker’s got balls.”
“We’ll relieve him of them soon enough,” Coyote replies.
Hangman nods and tells him where the exchange will take place.
“Yep. That’s where the first call came from.” He jerks his head towards the clubhouse. “Brothers are inside, waiting for orders.”
Hangmen looks grimly at me. “What we’re gonna do is go the warehouse, get the mouthpiece back. Give them the coke. You, Red, and Blood.”
I’m incredulous. “Are you fucking kidding me? Bring Blood? The fuck faints at the sight of blood.”
“Right,” Hangman nods. He’s clearly rattled if he’s being agreeable. “Mothman then. You’re gonna do the exchange and walk away.”
I close my eyes. “They took X. I can’t let them walk away.” My mind flits to Paulie. “I promised her pops.”
“We’re not lettin’ them walk away. We gotta let Moliter think we’re on the up and up. The fucks makin’ the exchange walk away with the coke, let their boss know it’s all good.”
“Jesus,” I say under my breath. “That’s the worst fucking plan I’ve ever heard.”
“You think this prick can’t find Moliter?” He points his thumb toward Coyote. “We got the phone number. Coyote will trace the location.”
“They’ll be on the move.”
Coyote nods. “Reaper’s right. We can trace where Moliter called from, but we can’t follow his movements unless he makes another phone call.”
Hangman stares at him. “You can’t fucking follow him? I thought you were a genius.”
Coyote scrubs his face. “Being a genius doesn’t help if the technology isn’t there. I have the plate number and the make and model of Moliter’s car, which doesn’t mean he’s driving it. If he makes another call from the number we’ve got, I can pin down the location.”
“We do it the old-fashioned way, then,” Hangman snarls at Coyote as if he’s responsible for the lack of technology. “You got a starting point for Moliter. We send Trigger and Rocky over there. Moliter won’t be wherever he was calling from, but he’s still gotta be in Reno. The fuckers that make the exchange, we follow them. They all gotta meet up sometime.”
“Then what?”
“We move in fast.”
As plans go, it sucks, but I decide to keep my eye on the most important part of all this. We make the exchange. I get X back. Then the Jury has all the time in the world to find Moliter and his group of motherfuckers and wipe them off this earth.
The three of us head inside as my phone rings. It’s the hospital.
Cold dread creeps over me as I answer the call.
“Mr. Kincaid. This is Dr. Harlow calling from Sagebrush General Hospital.”
“How’s Paulie?” I ask anxiously.
“He’s weak, but stable. The problem is he’s agitated, asking for his daughter. Can you have her to come to the hospital.”
“She can’t right now.”
“It would help then, if you could come in to talk to him.”
I turn my back to the brothers, who are watching me with too much interest. “You tell him I got everything under control. X and I’ll be in to see him tonight.”
“X?”
“Daughter’s name,” I mutter, thinking I gotta learn how to pronounce it. Examina? Jimamin? Shit.
“Get off the fuckin’ phone,” Hangman says as I hang up.
I glare at him, but he ignores me as he gives out assignments.
“Eight and King, head to Hook’s to keep an eye out in case Moliter decides on a full-out attack.”
They both nod.
“Coyote, you stay here and find every shithole Moliter pollutes. Get in touch with anyone who associates with him. Promise them a slow death if they even talk to the fucker. I wanna know what he owns, rents, where he eats, fucks, gambles. Send the info to Rocky and Trigger. They can do the groundwork.”
“Fender, call Hash and tell him to get his ass over to Sailor Jerry’s. He should be done with the cops by now. Meet him there. Blood and Rider head to the brothel. Reaper and the big fucker will make the exchange. Mothman will back them up.”
“You know,” Rider drawls. “The big fucker is also a bigger target.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Hangman replies, then returns his attention to us. “Mothman, take a scope rifle with you, settle yourself on a nearby rooftop. Shit starts happening, you take out the yahoos.”
Mothman nods.
“Jawbone stays with Stark and Zero at the clubhouse. Jawbone, call Lord in. He might be a cripple, but he can still shoot a gun. Haley can make the calls to the women. Tell her not to forget Ash.”
Ash is Hangman’s oldest son from his first marriage.
King gets defensive of his wife. “Haley won’t forget anyone.”
He ignores King. “Joker, you’re with me. We’ll head to Moliter’s last location, shake anyone down that can point a finger in the right direction.”
He turns to Rider and King. “We’re gonna need more help, so once you’ve locked down the businesses, you get on the horn to Coyote. He’ll give you assignments.” To Eight and Fender, he says, “Stay put until you get word from me that the exchange has gone as planned, then join Rocky and Trigger. Hopefully by then, we’ll have the fucker cornered.”
“And me?” Blood asks.
Rocky snorts a laugh.
“Stay put at the brothel. We can’t have you fucking faintin’ if someone gets a nosebleed.”
“I’ve been getting therapy. I can handle it.”
“Like Dicer can handle an amputation,” Joker says.
Blood frowns at him. “I can be backup, then. In case you need me.”
Hangman sighs. “Fine. Just keep your distance. You faint and we’ll leave your body to the vultures.”
He turns back to me. “Once you make the exchange, bring the mouthpiece here, then call me. By then, I’ll know where you gotta be.” He pauses as he considers me. “Don’t kill them, Reaper. Not yet.”
“Sure,” I say as I rub my face.
He stabs his finger at me. “Don’t fuckin’ kill them. We need ‘em alive.”