CHAPTER 16

Sally's was a broken down remnant of what once was a crappy Mexican restaurant located in Central. It hadn't changed much from when it had been shut down for health violations, the walls were still stained, the roof sagged from where a pipe had burst and the leak had softened the ceiling tiles, and the flooring stank of beer, piss and rat droppings. No one complained, however, because complaining got you banned, and Sally's was the hub of several illegal avenues of business. Including where you went if you needed something shipped quickly and secretly no questions asked. I wasn't sure how Thostchild related to the symbol, but it was likely an accident by someone from the shipper, so all I needed was to figure out who the symbol belonged to.

"Hey Sal," I sidled up to the bar between a cracked out skeletal guy snorting a line and a dude with half his teeth rotting out of his face. "Give me a double whisky and coke, on the rocks," I looked around the dank interior, "you seen Bobby?"

I actually didn't need her help finding Bobby, as one of the only wolves in the place, I could scent that he was in the back, but it would be a mistake to waltz into Sally's and act like I owned it, I needed to be welcomed back after all.

The guy with rotted teeth grinned at me, his eyes glassy, and leaned on the bar.

"Hey sweetheart, I can be Bobby."

A glass of dark liquid that may or may not have been what I ordered landed in front of me, I passed over a fifty.

"He's in the back, but I doubt he's gonna want to talk to you. Last time you smashed his face in and broke his arm in three places."

Shit. I'd forgotten about that. Bobby was one of those who'd made a deal with Rob knowing full well the consequences of backing out on his end.

The guy to my right paled and pulled himself off the bar, pretending to be obviously busy with something on the other side of him.

"I got another fifty if you don't tip him off," I told Sally, and she considered me.

Sally was a big gal in her mid fifties. Tattooed with a shaved head, she would easily be mistaken for a man with man boobs if not for the frilly heart print shirt and short mini skirt she wore.

"You gonna kill him?" she wanted to know.

"Nah, that was Rob's business. This is my own. Just asking a few questions."

Sally reached for the fifty, tucking it into her bra beneath her shirt. I handed her another hundred. She raised her eyebrows.

"For the door," I told her.

"Sorry about your uncle," she told me, tilting her head toward the narrow door that lead into the back room. I gave her an uncomfortable smile and twisted and turned my way through the crowded floor, slipping past several tables, one where I set my drink down.

Okay, here goes.

I lifted my leg and kicked the door as hard as I could, before picking my drink back up. The flimsy plywood burst inward, chunks of wood flying everywhere revealing a darkened space and a table where several men were busy playing a hand of poker. Lines of coke were set up between the cards.

"Bobby!" I cried like I was greeting an old friend, taking a large swig of my drink.

I nearly spit it right back out. Jesus, holy Christ that was terrible.

Bobby, seated on the left hand side of the table, nearly jumped right out of his skin. He was a jittery sort anyway, but when he saw me his eyes went wide and he paled another few shades. Which, as an albino, was a difficult task to manage.

The other men at the table reached for their weapons, which alarmed Bobby even farther.

"No...no," he made rapid calming gestures at the men, "it's cool. It's cool. Just a friend. Let me see what she wants."

He jumped up from the table so fast his drink went flying all over the cards and the coke, which in turn occupied the rest of the men who scrambled to save it.

There was an exterior door, a heavy metal one, at the back of the room and we took that out into the alley.

"What the fuck, Raven," Bobby growled at me, careful to keep his distance. "You had to break down the door?"

I shrugged. "I always wanted to do that, besides, I thought you'd run. You know, on account of our last visit."

He looked at me and frowned and then shook his head. "The last visit was Rob's business. Settled. Besides I heard he kicked it..."

Bobby backed away from me, hands in the air. I realized I was growling.

"Sorry, I just meant there's no hard feelings between you and me. I did what I had to do, you did what you had to do."

Huh. I'd rather thought Bobby was a little bit more...slimy.

"That's very understanding of you."

"Yeah, yeah...I'm a real understanding guy. Now, what do you want?"

I showed him the pendant. "You know anything about this?"

He frowned, his white eyebrows pinching together as he leaned in toward my hand. I had the sudden urge to bop him in the nose, but that wouldn't be very sporting, and I really did need his help.

"I've seen the symbol a few times, some private shipping company maybe."

I figured as much.

"Any idea what they're moving? Or where I can find them?"

Bobby leaned back and eyed me.

"It just occurred to me that with Rob dead there's no precedent for business between us. Information costs money, Raven, that's just how it is."

The little slime ball. I grinned, baring teeth, and let my wolf out a little. Bobby started to back away, but he didn't get far before I had him crushed, face first against the bricks of the building next door.

"Don't try to hustle me, Bobby," I growled in his ear. "I've had a very bad week."

"I'm sorry!" he ground out around the face full of wall, "you know I've gotta try, Rave, shit ain't free and a man's gotta eat."

Right, the only thing Bobby was worried about was winning his hand of poker and buying more cocaine.

"Where can I find the shipper?" I demanded, grinding his face into the brick a little for good measure.

"I don't know!" Bobby whined, "but I know someone who might. You want to look for a guy named Skillet, word is he nabbed a shipment of theirs by accident. Whole shitload of guns, and not the cheap crap either. Brand new M60s, fully loaded with all the bells and whistles, including tracers and armour piercing rounds."

"Score for him," I muttered.

"Not really," Bobby said. "Shit is too professional. Where the fuck is he supposed to unload that? Ain't no one buying hardware when the real owners are likely to come back and bite you."

I supposed that was true.

"So this Skillet has an entire shipment of military grade weapons and no where to sell them. Where's he keeping them?"

Bobby laughed nervously, "that's the kicker, a little ironic actually, he's got them hidden in the old Navel Annex, one of the abandoned warehouses, not sure which one."

I didn't think Bobby had a great handle on irony, but I released him anyway, patting him on the shoulder.

"Thanks Bobby."

"Yeah, I'd tell you anytime, but you'll forgive me if I hope you never darken my doorstep again."