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A New Complication
Saks didn’t show nor did he call, which pissed Luke off, but what was he going to do? He couldn’t drag the man to work by his heels. Saks wouldn’t answer his phone either. Luke’s calls went straight to voicemail. He supposed the six day workweeks, and the lack of the weekly road trips that used to be the highlight of their week, had gotten to Saks. He just wanted a day off. Luke didn’t blame him, but he did expect the courtesy of a phone call.
The day wound through, and between him and Pepper they managed to get a lot of the work done. Luke supposed he’d have to come in tomorrow to catch up on the week’s work. The thought didn’t please him at all.
He stood from the bike he was working on when he heard the doorbell ring with the opening of the office door. Luke expected it would be a customer picking up his bike. He was wrong.
“Hey, Luke,” said Wanda.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“I hate to bother him at work, but can I talk to Tony?”
“He’s not here.”
“He left? Already?”
“He never showed, Wanda. I figured he just wanted a day off.”
“Oh,” she said, biting her lip. “We were supposed to go out last night, but he never showed.”
A sense of alarm shot through Luke. Maybe Saks would blow him off, but he wouldn’t do that to a date, especially with a girl he liked as much as Wanda. “I’m sure there’s a good reason. Tell you what. When I see him I’ll tell him you asked about him.”
“Sure, Luke.”
“And if you want, stop by in a bit and have some barbecue with us.”
Wanda shook her head. “I don’t think so, but thanks for asking me.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure he gets a hold of you when I see him.” Luke waved goodbye with a sour feeling in his stomach. If it had been the old group, Wanda would have gladly joined them, but a nice gal like Wanda didn’t want anything to do with the current group of club members. Luke couldn’t blame her. He was actually glad she was staying away.
Except now he was worried about Saks. “Hey, Pepper?”
Pepper walked into the office wiping grease from his hands with a shop rag. “What’s up?”
“Saks didn’t show for his date with Wanda last night.”
“He didn’t show for work today.” A single eyebrow rose.
“I’m going to his apartment to check things out.”
“What’s his phone number?”
“Why?”
“I can have my guys get a location where the phone is.”
“I thought you needed a court order for something like that.”
“A lot of people think a lot of things. Most of it isn’t true.”
Luke gave him Saks’ phone number. “I’ll be back within the hour.”
“You better be. This cookout is a big deal now and my people are looking forward to seeing how things turn out.”
“I know. You’ve got my number?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just in case.”
Luke took his 2014 Iron 883 from the storage garage and grimly swung out onto the road, the Sportster’s engine rumbling between his legs. A sick feeling gripped his stomach as he rode toward Saks’ apartment. Inside, he knew he wouldn’t find Saks there and his worry levels soared. Things didn’t get any better when he reached the apartment building. In the marked parking slot for Saks’ apartment sat his bike, covered in a bike tarp.
“Fuck!” mumbled Luke. There was no way Saks went anywhere without his bike unless it was the dead of winter. For that time of year, Saks had a “beater” car, a sad collection of rust, bondo and an engine that rumbled more than his motorcycle. But that cage was parked in the back of Luke’s lot during the summer so Saks wasn’t in it either.
Luke took the stairs to his employee’s apartment and knocked on the door. He tried to peer into the window beside the door but the apartment was dark.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Luke swung in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. A man in his forties wearing overalls stood holding a paint can and some brushes.
“I’m looking for Saks, I mean, Tony. I’m his boss and he didn’t show for work today. It’s not like him.”
“Yeah, Tony usually pays his rent on this day of the month, every month like clockwork. He didn’t show either.”
“His bike’s in his parking slot. His girlfriend came by and said he didn’t show for their date last night.”
“He’s got that old car of his.”
“It’s parked behind my shop for the summer.”
The older man scratched his head. “I’m the super. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything if I poked my head in.” His hands went into one of the pockets of his overalls and pulled out a keychain thick with different keys. Luke stepped aside and the super opened the door.
“Hey! Tony? It’s me, Jack. Tony?”
“Do you see anything?”
“His place looks a little messy.”
“Messy? That’s not like him. Let me see.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Look, all of this doesn’t sound like Tony.”
“All right. But don’t go inside.”
Luke poked his head inside the door. As he suspected, things were more than a little messy. Papers and dishes were strewn on the floor and furniture pushed out of place. Luke’s jaw set as he gazed at the scene. There had been a scuffle.
“Don’t you have some plumbing you need to check in here?”
“No,” the man said slowly.
Luke pulled out a fifty from his wallet. “I’d appreciate it if you check the plumbing. I’ll wait out here.”
“Put your money away. I like Tony just fine.” The super put down his paint can and shoved open the door. “Mr. Parks! It’s me, Jack. I’m just going to check your faucets.”
There was no answer, and the man walked in. It didn’t take him long to return, his face ashen white.
“He’s not there. There’s some blood on the wall in the kitchen.”
“How much blood?”
“Enough that it wasn’t an accident. I’m calling the police.”
“You do that. I’ll go check on some other things.”
There was only one place that Luke could think to get some answers. He hopped on his bike and headed toward the Red Bull.
He jumped off on his bike, counting the bikes at the bar and parked his by the front. He headed inside.
A band was playing at full volume in the crowded bar. Luke made his way to the bar and waited until John turned toward him.
“Hi, Luke,” said John, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought tonight is your big shindig. In fact, a woman was in here a little earlier looking for you. I told her you’d be there. What you having?”
“A draft.” John’s comment about a woman looking for him was a usual thing and something he didn’t pay attention to anymore. Since he’d been hanging around with Kinney he picked up as many girls as Kinney did. “The clubhouse opening is tonight. I was hoping to see Saks there.”
“I’m sure he won’t miss it.”
“Well, that’s the thing. He didn’t show up for work today, and he missed a date with one of his favorite girls last night, so now I don’t know what to think.”
John’s face drew into a frown, but before he could say anything a patron called his name. “I’ll be right back,” the bartender said.
While Luke waited he felt a hand on his shoulder. His head snapped around to find Pez at the other end of the hand.
“What you doing here, pendejo? I thought you were having a big party tonight?”
“What do you know about that?”
“Everyone knows, blanco.” Pez dropped his arm from Luke’s shoulder.
Luke gauged the look on the man’s face and immediately alarm shot through his body. “Is there going to be trouble?” he asked.
Pez shrugged. “Depends on what your hombre, Aces, does.”
“What? What’s going on, Pez?”
“That’s some cabron you have there running things, blanco. He’s got the Hombres and the Rojos snapping at each other. We delivered a message to him to back off, but I don’t think he’s taking it.”
“Message? What message?”
Pez took out his cell phone and held it to Luke’s face. With horror, Luke saw Saks, his forehead streaked in crusted blood, tied to a chair.
Luke grabbed Pez by his cut.
“Where is he? He’s got nothing to do with Ace’s shit.”
Around them people stopped talking and stared. A sharp whistle pierced the air. Both Luke and Pez turned their heads to the sound.
“Take it outside, boys,” said John.
“John, man. You don’t understand.” Luke ripped the cell phone from Pez’s hand and slapped it on the bar.
John stared at the picture and then his face turned red. “Outside! Both of you! Sally, yo,” he called to the waitress. “Watch the bar.”
John marched both of the men out the back door. Pez retrieved his phone on the way. “What the fuck’s going on?”
“Ask the pendejo here,” shot Pez.
“I am asking you, because sure as shit, Luke had nothing to do with this.”
Pez held up his hands.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. We all, I mean, all of us in the Rojos got this picture. Hombres leadership don’t like outsiders messing in our shit.”
John poked his finger into Pez’s chest. “You go back to your leadership and tell them that they’ve taken on more shit than they can handle. Anthony here is family. Or more like, familia. Get that, cabron. Tony better be back here at the Red Bull in two hours or every single one of you are going to wish your papas never came to Connecticut.”
Pez gave John a cheeky grin. “Believe it or not, I’m on your side, blanco. I hate this crap. It’s bad for business. I’ll deliver your message. I’ll just take this pendejo with me. He’ll bring your Anthony back, or neither one of them will return. I can’t say either way.”
“Luke?”
“Yeah, I’m good with that.” He didn’t have a choice.
“Then get out of here, cabron. The clock’s ticking.”
Pez moved toward the parking lot, but John grabbed Luke’s arm. “Here,” he said, drawing a handgun from behind his vest in the back. “Can you shoot?”
“Yeah, but John—”
“Just take it. Get my cousin out of there or my grandmother will shoot me.”
Luke gave John a steely gaze, though he was blown away with what he just learned. “I’ll do my best.”
“I’d go myself, but I don’t have permission, and that would take a while to get everyone together. You understand?”
“I didn’t know you were connected.” Wiseguys were woven into the warp and woof of Connecticut, but Luke never imagined Rocco and his brother were part of it.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Spade. Just know this. We won’t be fucked with.”
“Yeah, I get that.” It was all he could say. The Rojos and the Hombres stepped into a pile of shit of unimaginable proportions. Saks’ kidnapping threatened to set off a wave of violence that even the Hombres weren’t used to.
The hell of it was that no one would know. Wiseguys did their work quietly. Luke remembered when two Hartford Hispanic gangs fought for territory in a small Connecticut town. For one summer, tensions built between the gangs until one of the gang leaders was killed in a shootout. Then, magically, both gangs were gone from the town with no explanation. Only faint whispers followed with what really happened.
“Go with God, then.”
Luke got to his bike and rolled it toward Pez, who was on his phone speaking rapidly in Spanish. Luke couldn’t hear the words but he saw the look on Pez’s face. The Bridgeport Rojos looked worried.
“He’s at the Westfield Rojos clubhouse. You know where that is?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“They don’t want to give him up.”
“Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it?”
“I hope you have some game, pendejo.”
“I don’t see where I have a choice.”
