Detective Kelly dropped Tommy St. James off at her car, but didn’t go back into the station. Instead, he pointed his Crown Vic toward North Minneapolis, heading toward a small bar nearly hidden among warehouses on a side street not far from the freeway. No signs marked the bar. The only indication of what was inside could be gleaned from the two dragon sconces that flanked the front door. And a closer look might make someone wonder why the roofline was lined with barbed wire and dotted with security cameras. Most of the bikers parked behind the building out of view.
Most people steered clear of the squat brick building.
Kelly swung his unmarked vehicle into the dirt parking lot in the back. He didn’t call in his location to dispatchers. He reached into his glove box for his extra pistol, tucking it in his ankle holster before getting out of his car.
Tommy was right. They couldn’t wait for officials. They couldn’t wait that long, especially if Dewey Nelson had Rafael. Kelly suspected that Dewey was a sexual predator and they needed to get Rafael as soon as possible. Kelly needed help outside of the law.
When Kelly stepped inside, a handful of men at the bar shot sideways glances at him. He ignored them and strode confidently across the room. A rat-faced man muttered “pig” into the silence but Kelly ignored him and pulled out the bar stool next to a huge, hulking bearded man.
“Bear.”
“Kelly.”
“I’ve got a story to tell you,” Kelly said, meeting the man’s eyes in the mirror.
The man nodded and a skinny mini-skirt clad woman with lank blond hair slid a cold beer over to Kelly. When she smiled, a small dimple appeared at her mouth and her eyes lit up, but she quickly looked down when Kelly smiled back.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Kelly said, popping the top of the Pale Ale. He pushed a ten-dollar bill toward her, but the woman blushed and turned away. “It’s on Bear.”
“I know. That’s for you,” Kelly said.
She hurried away. The rat-faced man at the other end of the bar swore under his breath and stomped out of the room, slamming a door that led to the interior of the clubhouse.
Kelly took a long swig and then told his story.
When he was done, Benny “Bear” Lawson took a long pull of his Grain Belt beer and scratched his tangled beard, his eyes gleaming with menace. “So, Sherlock, you got some soul-sucking, perverted bastard you need me to scare a little? I think I can handle that. In fact, it will be my pleasure to stomp my foot on that scumbag!”
What the big biker lacked in height, he made up for in muscle. And fierceness.
Bear turned to the woman behind the bar. “Hey Sally, do me a favor, sweetie, and put it on 86.7. They are doing a live broadcast of Tosca at the Metropolitan Opera in 1976.”
He waited while she found the station. “Turn it up a bit, doll,” Bear said, then closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure. His broad back in its ubiquitous patched leather jacket sagged against the back of the bar stool as he relaxed. His lips mouthed the words.
Kelly waited patiently, signaling to Sally to bring another round for the both of them. He plopped a twenty on the bar this time, securing both bills under an empty bottle.
When the song ended, Bear’s eyes snapped open, his smile disappeared and several lines suddenly creased his forehead.
“So, what’s this little pissant’s name? You say Dewey Nelson, huh?”
Kelly knew the story would piss Bear off. The big biker had a soft spot for kids. Bear’s wife had tried to kidnap their kid and move out of state. Bear had put a stop to that. Now, she and the kids lived in a duplex in town. Bear lived in the other half. Kelly and Bear bonded over both being divorced dads, but what had sealed the deal was a case where Kelly had saved Bear’s life in a shootout between gangs. Bear didn’t take that lightly. The debt Bear felt toward Kelly wouldn’t end until Bear was “stone cold dead” in his grave. But even so, Kelly was careful to never anger him. If Bear was pissed off at you, Kelly suspected that your family might never hear from you again.
Bear refused to snitch, but he didn’t mind helping Kelly handle things outside the law.
And, in return, Kelly made sure he only turned to Bear for help with the big things. A kid getting abused by a scumbag billionaire fit the bill. The only other thing Kelly had ever asked Bear for help with was once when he couldn’t find a suspect who had grabbed his girlfriend’s teenage daughter and run away with her.
Bear brought back the daughter, a little shaken up, but all in one piece. Her mother’s boyfriend was never heard from again. Kelly closed the case without asking any more questions.
Now, he turned to Bear. “Yeah, Dewey Nelson. Lives on Lake of the Isle in some big mansion. But there’s a slight problem.”
“Sure, there is,” Bear said, chuckling. “That’s why you came to me.”
“This dude Nelson is the chief’s cousin.”
Bear chortled with glee. “Ha. That makes it even better. Damn corrupt slime balls in power using their influence to take advantage of the innocents. Sounds like something right out of ‘All the King’s Men.’”
The opera-loving, bookworm biker never ceased to surprise Kelly.
“But it gets even worse,” Kelly said, taking a slug of his beer. “Nelson’s working with the feds on some export racket. They might have close tabs on him. He might even be wired. And his pad might even be under surveillance.”
“No, sweat. I can handle that.”
Kelly drained his beer and stood to leave.
“I’ll be in touch,” Bear said.
Bear got back to Kelly within the hour.
He and his gang would do a little recon tonight and then report back to Kelly on what they saw. One of Bear’s operatives, a woman, was going to target Nelson when he went out for his nightly drink at the ritzy Island of Lakes Club.
“Damn, you’re good, Bear,” Kelly said. “Sure you don’t want to be a detective?”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
The plan was that the woman would come on to Nelson and try to finagle an invite back to his mansion.
“Marcia’s good. A real class act. Looks like a supermodel, acts like royalty. If anyone can do it, that gal can,” Bear said. “If not, we go to plan B.”
“Plan B?”
“You’re on a need-to-know-basis now, my friend,” Bear said. “I’ll call you as soon as I learn something.”