Page 51 of Goose

Goose

Our clubhouse resembled a frat house living room. Sofas, a sectional, pinball machines, and a world-class kitchen were a few of the things that set it apart from the typical MC clubhouse.

The kitchen was my idea. I was the designated cook and used the state-of-the-art equipment for preparing meals when our meetings ran well into the night. It wasn’t uncommon for me to cook a meal of comforts foods when we returned from a late-night job, either.

The four of us were seated at the sectional. Baker was across from us, on the couch. I realized only one of our member’s was missing, but the room felt empty in his absence.

Without our sixth member, the meetings would forever be a reminder. With my jaw clenched, I gazed into my lap.

“Goose, Reno and I are going to Oceanside in the morning,” Baker said. “I’ve been busy with end-of-year accounting bullshit for the last week. I apologize. I lost track of time.”

“Oceanside?” I looked up. “I’m not going to fucking Oceanside. That’s your deal. I don’t know that son-of-a—”

“You said you wanted to be involved,” Baker argued, his tone stern. “You’re going. You’ll agree to how we’re disposing of this problem, or we’re not doing it. That cop can sit on your roof from now until the end of time for all I care.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “I’ll fucking go.”

As much as I didn’t want to expose myself to someone I wasn’t familiar with, it was for the better. Left to their own devices, the club would do something half-assed. The results would loom over me like a fog for the rest of my life—or until I got nabbed by detective Barnes.

“On to next order of business,” Baker said. “The job in Bakersfield.”

“I’m ready whenever we’re ready,” Tito chimed. “I’ve hacked into his server a few times, just to check on him. He leaves for conventions twice a month, so there’ll always be a window of opportunity right around the corner.”

Baker looked at each of us. “This one’s going to be huge, fellas.”

“It’ll seem fucked up doing a job without Ghost,” Cash whined.

“It’ll be fucked up,” Reno agreed. “But what are we supposed to do? Just dissolve the club? What would Ghost think about that? If we stopped pulling jobs because he wasn’t here, he’d be ashamed of us.”

“Who’s going to drive?” Cash asked.

“I’ll drive,” Baker replied.

Cash’s eyes thinned. “You? There’s a big difference between driving that SUV full of men and gear than there is driving that little go-cart of yours on that track. When someone’s chasing you, shit gets real.”

Baker shrugged. “I’m not going to argue that. But I’m the only logical answer.”

He was the only logical answer. I expected in time, things were sure to change for the Devil’s Disciples. We were certainly going to be challenged if we ever got in a run-in with the cops. Ghost had a natural knack for driving, almost as if he knew what was going to present itself long before it happened.

Hell, he earned his nickname “Ghost” because of his ability to elude and escape in a car.

“I’m with Baker on this,” I said, glancing at each of the men as I spoke. “He’s our only option.”

“Coming back from the Bakersfield job won’t be an issue,” Baker explained. “At least, it shouldn’t be. If he’s out of town for the weekend, the chances of us getting in a chase are slim.”

“Agreed,” Tito said. “His home is on two acres of land or more. The odds of being noticed by neighbors will be miniscule.”

Baker stroked his beard. “We’re sure this is going to be fruitful?”

“By my records, he’s earned north of ten million,” Tio replied. “I’ve found no investments. There are records of cash out, but nothing’s been re-invested. I can’t find a trail of how he’s laundered one cent. He doesn’t pay taxes on it, either. So, he’s either turned it into cash and kept it, or he’s turned it into cash and taken it elsewhere. I’ve got no record of him leaving the country, ever. The logical answer is that he’s got in in that home.”

Tito could easily land a job in LA as a model for a clothing line. Ally had joked that I was pretty, but Tito was the prettiest man I’d ever seen. His true strength, however, was computer hacking or anything to do with electronics.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Baker said.

“What are we going to do when we do our next bank job?” I asked. “Or the next job where we’ve got to actually outrun someone? We’re going to be fucked. Ghost knew all the routes, roadways, the speed he could take exit ramps, everything. I’m not interested in getting hemmed up because we’ve got you trying to outrun a cop, Bake.”

“Yeah,” Cash said. “Me neither.”

“Same goes for me,” Reno said.

“We’ll definitely need to be more selective with the jobs we choose,” Tito said. “Statistically speaking, most robbery suspects are caught in a car chase. We’re one pit maneuver away from a prison sentence.”

“Enough,” Baker growled. “I’m just as upset about Ghost’s death as the rest of you. There’s nothing we can do about it. For now, our focus needs to be getting rid of this cop’s body.”

I’d agree with Baker on getting rid of the cop’s body being priority.

Agreeing that anyone was as upset as me about the loss of Ghost wasn’t going to happen.

Now, or ever.