Page 36 of Thick

Crip cocked an eyebrow. “If you’re looking for bad bikers you’ll need to look elsewhere. We’re the good ol’ boys club. Hell, Pee Bee, Meat and I were just getting ready to go inside and play a game of parcheesi.”

“Parcheesi?” the detective coughed out a laugh. “The three of you are going to play parcheesi?”

Crip nodded. “When we’re done, we were going to go up by the pier and get a Hawaiian shaved ice. We’ll sit side by side cross-legged on the beach and wait for the sunset.”

The detective glanced at each of us. “In your jeans and kuttes?”

“That’s standard attire here at the good ‘ol boys club.”

“Sounds like a hell of a way to spend the afternoon. I’ll keep it short.”

Crip glanced at his watch. “Please do.”

“Satan’s Savages have been running dope and raping women for as long as I’ve been on the force. The other day, someone finally agreed to testify against them on a gang rape case. So, I got a warrant, waited until they were holding a meeting, and raided their clubhouse. In fact, that’s how I spent my night last night--”

“Hey, Pee Bee,” Crip said. “Run inside and see if we’ve got any of those lollipops left. I think the cop’s looking for a reward.”

The detective cleared his throat. “There’s one small problem.”

Crip let out a laugh. “One of them was holding a candy bar, and you thought it was a gun? You shot him, and now your facing charges?”

The detective’s gaze hardened. “Can you stop being a prick for a few minutes?”

“Probably not.”

The cop shifted his gaze to Pee Bee. “One of the Savages involved in the rape – the orchestrator of it, in fact – is singing like a song bird. So far, I’ve been the only one to take statements.” He reached into his back pocket, removed a notepad, and opened it. “In June of 2011, someone shot – and killed – one of the Black Diamond’s members at a rally north of Palm Springs. The murder was never solved. According to this source, James Spencer did it. You may know him as Spider. He rides with your group.”

My eyes shifted to Pee bee. His face went stark white. I’m sure mine did the same. Stone-faced, Crip stared at the detective as he flipped to another page in his notepad.

“According to the Savage’s source, Whip, Panda, Taffy, and Lowbrow were all castrated and relieved of their respective male members by none other than you, Peanut Butter.” He glanced at Pee Bee, flipped the page on his note pad, studied it, and then looked up. “In April of 2014, Crip, Pee Bee, and Adam ‘Cholo’ Downey retaliated for motorcycle that was stolen by a lowly club that is now defunct, but was called Broken Boyz MC at the time. Cholo ended the argument in a fist fight, which left Michael ‘Jersey Mike’ Tredetto in a coma. He died the next day.”

He flipped to another page. “Sorry, this isn’t in chronological order. Nicholas ‘Crip’ Navarro, on or about January 2004, did charge the acting president of the Southern Stars MC, Bart ‘B.A.’ Anderson, $10,000 to allow the club to operate in this region without retaliation, thereby committing extortion under the RICO act.”

“Stop,” Crip said. “I’ve heard enough. What are you getting at, detective?”

He folded the notepad, let out a sigh, and then looked at Crip. “Are you done being an asshole?”

“For now.”

“I’m not getting at anything, Navarro. I’m here to advise you of a situation that has developed, and what I believe might need to be done to resolve it.”

“I’m listening.”

“There’s enough information in this notepad to put away every principal in this MC for the rest of their lives. I think you’re aware of my beliefs regarding this club. I’d hate to see that happen. For now, I’m the only one who knows about this and I’d like to keep it that way--”

“How do you propose to do that?” Crip asked.

“I’ve got a short window of time before the informant expects me to present this to the District Attorney. Luckily for all of us, he doesn’t have an attorney. Yet.”

“What can I do to prevent that deal from being made?”

“Someone needs to get to the informant before I make it to the District Attorney’s office.”

“The informant that’s currently in jail?”

“That is correct.”

Crip arched an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that I need to have someone get tossed in the same jail, and have him ‘take care’ of this guy before the deal’s made?”