Page 9 of It Takes a Thief

“I was at Whole Foods waiting for my salad when I noticed some guys pointing at me,” said Duji. “They were like ‘hey, how come you’re not ordering the chili?’ and ‘make sure you get your oat bran or you won’t be able to burn down an outhouse.’”

A few guys—Slushy included—chuckled, but the combover lawyer was quick to compose himself. “This sort of slander is bad for your image as well as illegal. Whoever was behind those stories can be prosecuted. Now, I know you guys aren’t big on working with the pigs. I’m not completely high on it, either. But to prove defamation, you have to have a false and derogatory statement published to a third person, resulting in image damages.”

I pointed out, “We never had that great of an image to begin with, Slushy. The farting meth story actually sounds kind of plausible.”

“Not of any of us sitting in this room would do something that hokey,” said Faux Pas. “Maybe some noob, like Sock Monkey or Tim Woodstock.”

I said, “Yeah, but it’s got the air of plausibility. We know where meth houses are. We know the people who make it.”

“The air of plausibility,” goofed Gollywow.

Slushy made a finger gun and shot me. “Yes, but it’s not true, and people like Faux Pas and Duji are suffering hits to their credibility, being mocked in public by strangers. This, in turn, affects the image of the Bare Bones MC and even extends to your construction outfit.” He always called Illuminati Construction an “outfit.” Slushy was pretty old school in a lot of ways, but he really sold it. He worked well on a personal level with pigs, lawyers, and judicial types, maybe because he was as oily as they were. “You could say you lost out on a billion-dollar construction contract because the client thought you were meth-dealing eggheads.”

Slushy had a good point. We’d definitely lost out on contracts before because the client thought we were head-bashing bikers. We had our church, sleeping quarters for sweetbutts, and basically our entire operation inside an old army hangar atop Mescal Mesa. Fat Boys came and went alongside Cat excavators. The Citadel, we called it. It was our power base. We still had plenty of jobs because we were fast, efficient, and knew how to cut corners. Our brothers were hard workers. Tuzigoot ran most of the big highway jobs, which was why he wasn’t in Slushy’s office.

“All right,” I conceded. “But I’d rather get to the fucking bottom of who planted that story in the first place. It just doesn’t bode well, you know? You let fuckers run around insinuating crap, and the next thing you know, you’re doing all day and a night in Tucson. Wolf, did you get ahold of Tobiah?”

Wolf hemmed and hawed. “Well, ah, you see, I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. So I started heading out on my ride, but then I decided I wanted to try one of those High and Tight burgers at In and Out, so—”

“I talked to him,” Lytton announced, causing Wolf to exhale a sigh of relief. Which made sense, since Tobiah lived in Lytton’s in-law unit on the edge of a canyon out there near Mormon Lake. “He said he’d be here at eleven to give us the intel he discovered.”

Everyone looked at each other, at their phones. It was eleven-thirty-five.

Finally Speed said, “What kind of salad were you having, Duji? I like the braised lentil salad. I’m really hepped on curry.”

Duji replied, “Un-fucking-fortunately, it was the kale and chicken salad, giving rise to further jibes about cruciferous vegetables steam-pressing my Calvins.”

Slushy nodded. “Keep an eye out for the sauerkraut in the pork loin. I know that healthy gut diet tells you to eat fermented stuff, but stick to kim chee. It’ll just lead to more cracks about butt bongos and Horton Hears a Poo.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! Were we here to discuss our fucking intestinal tracts and the menu at Whole Paycheck? These fucking enemies of ours were not only causing public humiliation for the Bare Bones MC but crass insubordination and silliness within our ranks. “Listen, you ballheads,” I said with authority. “This is no fucking laughing matter.”

“Who’s laughing?” said Faux Pas.

I continued, “It’s not even just the recent fake news story. Cecil came to tell me that someone got ahold of our corporate credit cards and is charging shit all over town.”

Everyone nodded and murmured. Sax was the first to speak up. “Maybe that’s why the bank texted me. They were curious why someone had charged thirty copies of World of Warcraft from Rwanda.”

“I got the same thing,” said Knoxie. “Someone was trying to rush order some penis weights from Sierra Leone.”

I pointed at Knoxie. “See? That’s the exact thing that not only tries to make us look like assmunchers, but rips us off into the fucking bargain. I had a charge for twelve hundred bucks for ten model Ford Torinos. The charge went through because of my name.”

Faux Pas, Duji, Speed and Gollywow nodded sagely. But Roman asked, “Your name? Because it was a toy model Ford?”

“A Torino,” explained Duji. “Ford was nicknamed Torino by, ah…”

“His father,” said Faux Pas, almost in a whisper.

The silence this time was uncomfortable, with everyone looking everywhere except at each other. Slushy tapped a pen on his desk and sucked on the inside of his mouth. Wolf broke the silence by going,

“What’s a penis weight exactly? Some kind of bondage thing?”

Everyone laughed with relief. Lytton, the resident bondage king, said, “Not at fucking all, man. Not that I know the details, but I believe it’s some kind of—”

“Penis enlargement device.” Knoxie was bold to say that, because it cast him into a questionable light. “I know, because I had to deal with the bank for an hour straightening it all out. It’s definitely someone trying to make us look like dingbats.”

“And steal our money at the same time,” I added. “Wolf, you’re in charge of shredding all the accounting and other paper at the Citadel. Don’t you have an industrial strength shredder in your parts shed?”

Wolf looked like he was watching a tennis match. A shady look if ever there was one. “Well, sure,” he said uncertainly. “I bag up most of it and this recycling company hauls it away after it’s shredded so no one can sit there putting the pieces together again.”