"What's so funny, bro?" Diablo asked.
"I was just thinking 'bout Army and all the women he fucks. Each rally he's got his dick in new pussy," Eagle answered.
"Correction-pussies," Goldie said, and the others laughed.
"Did you hear how he fucked up and met up with three women at the same place?" Eagle said.
"No shit. I didn't hear that one," Goldie said.
Diablo shook his head. "Me neither, but it sounds like something he'd do."
"The chicks were all pissed off, and he ended up fucking one of the club women." Eagle laughed harder.
"He better juggle his bitches better, 'cause one day he's gonna meet the wrong woman and she's gonna chop his cock right off," Shotgun said.
Diablo sniggered. "Army just needs to meet the right woman. Once that happens, he'll settle his ass down."
"Not sure he's gonna meet his ideal woman unless she's a nymphomaniac who owns a liquor store and has a brother who works at a Harley dealership," Goldie said.
The brothers guffawed, but when Wexler and a man in a crumpled suit walked in, they all went stone-faced. Wexler went up to the bikers right away, but the man with him paused and mopped his face with a handkerchief before approaching.
"A couple of the department's bikes need a tune-up and an oil change," the sheriff said. Shotgun nodded and pulled out a service slip. "It's a scorcher today. Are you getting ready for the bike rally? You're having it over at Helmstad's place, aren't you?"
"Is that all you're gonna need?" Shotgun asked as he wrote some things on the service form while the other brothers remained stoic and silent.
Wexler nodded, and then the man, who was sweating profusely, said, "Have you sold an American eagle hood ornament for a dark-colored SUV, maybe burgundy or brown?"
"Why the fuck are you asking?" Diablo said.
"And who the hell are you?" Goldie added.
Wexler cleared his throat. "This is Jack Barnard. He's helping out with an investigation in our town."
"I'm a detective with the Durango police. We received some information we're just following up on."
The brothers just stared at him; they didn't give information to badges. Ever.
Shotgun shook his head. "I don't recall selling any American eagles. We don't really carry them."
"That's funny because the bottom shelf behind you has two American eagle ornaments. I've also seen several around town, and people tell me they bought it at this store," Jack said.
"All we want to know is who you sold them to and the dates. We're not asking for anything more."
They didn't say anything.
Jack pounded his fist on the counter. "Fuck! The bastard who raped and murdered the older woman on the front page of the paper had an American eagle hood ornament. Chances are high he got it at this shop. We just need to know who you've sold them to."
"That ornament is common as hell and all shops carry it. It can be bought online. There's nothing sayin' we sold it to the killer," Diablo said.
"I'm not saying you did, and even if you did, you had no way of knowing who he was. I'm just trying to cover all the bases. I want to catch this fucking bastard and put him away for life. If any of you have sisters, mothers, girlfriends, wives, or know and care about any woman, I'd think you'd want this sick bastard caught."
Hailey flashed through Goldie's mind, as did the man who'd scared her. The muscle in his jaw twitched. I'll be on the lookout for the eagle. And if the fucker bought it from us, I'll tear him apart. Their lifestyle dictated that he and his brothers would take care of business in their own way. And in their world, a person was guilty until they thought he was innocent.
Wexler fixed his gaze on each of the brothers and a tacit agreement passed between them. Smiling weakly, he turned to Jack. "Let's get out of here. We've got work to do."
"We'll be back with a subpoena for those records," Barnard said.
"Do what you need to do," Shotgun said. "When do you need the bikes back by?"
The sheriff spun around. "In a couple of days. Does that work?"
Shotgun nodded. "Works fine. I'll call you."
"Sounds good. And thanks."
When the two cops drove off, Goldie leaned against the counter. "Check to see if this fuckin' asshole bought the hood ornament here."
"Yeah. We'll take care of him," Diablo growled.
"The fucker's gonna find out what a fucked-up pussy he is when we get through with him," Eagle said.
"It's gonna take time to go through all the records 'cause we sell a shitload of those eagles in the store and online. I'd bet money he got it at our store. It'll take some time, but I'll find the bastard."
"You better talk to Steel about having Chains dummy up the records. There's no way that Durango badge isn't coming back with a damn subpoena," Goldie said.
"I'm gonna call him now." Shotgun went into the small office and closed the door.
"Bike's ready," Cal said as he walked into the store. "Did you want me to pull around in front, or do you want to pick it up in the back?"
"Was it in the valve train?" Diablo asked.
"Yep, but it wasn't anything major."
"I'll get it out back," Goldie said to Cal. Bumping fists with Diablo and Eagle, he left the shop and retrieved his bike. He had a few appointments at the ink shop, and then he'd pick Hailey up for dinner. I can't wait to see her. I'm so damn into her. I don't like that she's going to Albuquerque by herself. He'd talk to her about it that night at dinner.
As he rode to Get Inked, he checked out all the ornaments he saw on all vehicles. Most new cars didn't have hood ornaments, so he figured it couldn't be too hard to track down the fucker. He'd find him, and when he did, he'd rip him from limb to limb.
* * *
"I don't like you driving to Albuquerque by yourself," Goldie said as he cut his porterhouse steak.
"I'm a big girl. I've driven that route hundreds of times. The drive is a little more than three hours. It's no big deal."
"Yeah, well, we weren't hanging when you were doing all that damn driving. I'll pay for an airline ticket for you."
She laughed. "By the time I wait through the long lines at security, transfer in Denver, and land in Albuquerque, it'll be six hours if I'm lucky. I'll be fine. Don't obsess over this." She brought the glass of white wine to her lips.
"You need to call or text me while you're on the road and when you get to your parents'."
Hailey saluted him. "Yes, sir."
Goldie scowled. "I'm not fuckin' around here. Shit happens when you think it won't."
Taking his hand, she kissed it, tenderness shimmering in her gaze. "I know, and I think it's sweet that you're concerned for me. I know the biker lifestyle isn't all roses and puppy dogs so I do understand your apprehension. I guess I don't think that there's danger lurking around every corner like you do. We just have different mindsets."
Leaning over the table, he drew her to meet him halfway, then kissed her. With his forehead pressed against hers, he whispered, "I don't want anything to happen to you. A person's obliviousness to danger is what sick fuckers use to hurt them. I'm always aware that danger is just under the surface and may strike at any time. I'm always on guard. I'm just asking you to be super careful and keep in touch with me." He brushed his lips across hers.
"I promise," she whispered back.
"How long are you going to be gone?" He pulled away and resumed cutting his steak.
"Only four nights. I'll be back Monday morning."
"Are there gonna be guys at this birthday party?"
"I don't think so. It's more of a girls' night out thing, and we're going to have a cake and presents."
I hate all her fuckin' girls' night out shit. Just thinking of a guy hitting on her makes my blood boil. "Is it at your friend's house?" Hailey shook her head, then glanced out the window. She doesn't want to tell me. I don't want her to be afraid to tell me shit. "I'm not gonna freak out, babe. Just tell me where it's at."
"A club."
"Why didn't you want me to know that?"
She shrugged. "I just thought you'd be mad, although we never discussed not dancing with other people."
The vein in his temple twitched as he tensed. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Blinking rapidly, she took a big gulp of water. "Nothing, really."
"Then why the fuck did you say it? Do you wanna dance with other guys?"
"No. It's just that I'm not sure if you'd be mad if I did."
"I'd be fuckin' pissed if you danced with a guy and he had his hands all over your body. Do I really have to tell you that? I haven't looked at another woman since we've been hanging out."
"I'm sorry. I definitely don't want to dance with anyone but you. It's just that I'm confused as to what we are."
"We're two people who enjoy being together and are having a helluva good time. You mean something to me, Hailey. I don't hang with a chick more than a couple days."