“Sounds like Legs. So, what’s all that gotta do with me?”
“I told Legs what I needed most was a solid street connection once I was released. I told him I had a big stash waiting for me on the outside and all I needed was distribution. He gave me your name and told me to look you up once I was out and settled.”
Boneyard studied me for a few moments before asking, “You said you didn’t know Legs until you weremoved into his house, right?”
“That’s right. Less than a year before my release.”
“What unit were you in before you moved?” Boneyard asked, clearly testing the credibility of my story.
“I was in Gen Pop, Echo Unit, until I was moved due to fighting with my Cellie.”
“You were moved straight to Leg’s house? To Joker unit?” Boneyard asked.
I shook my head. “Legs doesn’t live in Joker Unit. He’s in Kilo, the same unit I was moved to.”
“Oh, that’s right. Legs lives in Kilo. I guess I have too many friends in Florence. I get a little bit mixed up.”
“Easy mistake,” I replied with asmile.
“You know I can check out your story with a single phone call, right? In less than an hour, I can get Legs on the phone.”
“Be my guest. He’ll tell you the same.”
I was bluffing my ass off at this point. If Boneyard called Legs before I got him into the van I was dead meat.
“I don’t know if you’re full of shit or not, but you’re in my bar so you obviously know who the fuck I am. And if you know that, you’ll know that I’ll cut you up with a fucking chainsaw if you’re fucking with me in any way.”
“I respect you and your club, and everything you do for the community,” I said, my stomach souring asI praised this garbage human being and his Nazi brothers.
“So, what do you have for me? What the fuck is this big score that you want my help in moving?”
“It just so happens that I can answer all of your questions, but not in here, and for your eyes only.”
“Why?”
“You’ll understand everything once you see what I have to show you. You’ll also understand what kind of money you’d stand to make should you choose to partner with me.”
Boneyard’s eyes narrowed as he continued to study me.
“Did you frisk him or check him for a wire?” he asked Bob, who simply shook his head. “Check him out,” he said to one of his ‘bodyguards,’who began patting me down.
“There’s two types of people know all about life on the inside. Criminals and cops.”
“I’m not a cop. That’s for fuckin’ sure.”
Boneyard’s bodyguard checked under my shirt, down my legs, and of course, in my pockets.
“What the fuck is this?” Boneyard’s goon asked, pulling the mini canister of Chloroform from my inside jacket pocket.
“It’s my inhaler. I have asthma,” I replied. “Please be careful with that.”
“My sister was asthmatic. I ain’t never seen one like this,” he replied.
“I’ll bet your sister didn’t also lose the use of one lung due to a knife fight, did she?”
“Give it back,” Boneyard ordered his goon.
Finally, at the very end of my frisking, goon number one checked under my hat. As soon as he lifted the ball cap, my long hair fell to my shoulders.
