Chapter Twelve
Wolf Larson, second-in-command of the Lucifer’s Disciples, scanned the Happy Bean Coffee Shop until he found Walter Zegda, wearing the Disciples colors, sitting in the back at a table surrounded by a circle of unpopulated tables.
Zegda liked to meet in random coffee shops to discuss serious gang business for three reasons.
First, Zegda was paranoid, and he was certain that federal and state police forces had placed bugs in every tavern where the Disciples congregated.
Second, the type of people who patronized coffee shops would not want to sit anywhere near massive, ferocious, motorcycle gang members decked out in gang colors, thus ensuring that his conversations would not be overheard.
Third, Zegda was addicted to soy caramel lattes.
He even had an espresso machine and caramel syrup in the Disciples’ clubhouse.
Zegda was sipping his favorite drink and reading Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables in the original French when Wolf sat down.
“Billy is in the wind, and so is his girlfriend,” Wolf said.
“Hmm,” Zegda answered as he put a bookmark between the pages of his book and closed it. “Witness protection?”
“Nah. I just think he skipped.”
“Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it? Mr. Kramer has a lot of information he could use against us if he’s arrested.”
“That’s a scary thought. What do you want to do?”
“Get the word out to our affiliates and anyone else you can think of to bring him in. Offer a reward. Billy isn’t very bright, so our efforts should be rewarded rather quickly.”
“What about the girl?” Wolf asked.
“I really don’t care. Anything that happens…” Zegda shrugged. “She’s collateral damage.”
Zegda grabbed his book and his latte and left with Wolf right behind him. When the door closed behind the duo, the tension level in the coffee shop dropped to zero.