When I got to the office, I unlocked the door and found McKinney sitting at the end of the sofa with a solemn expression. He never took his eyes off the small TV screen as he asked, “You forget something?”
“Need a word with you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Noting the seriousness in my voice, he turned to look at me. “What about?”
“The Punishers.”
“Figured that much.” He shifted back in his seat as he adjusted his restraint on his foot. “What do you need to know?”
“How to kill ’em.”
“Okay, which ones?”
His shocked eyes never left mine. “All of them.”
“You gotta be shittin’ me, man.” McKinney shook his head with disbelief. “There’s almost twenty members. You have to be crazy to try something like that.”
“Consider us crazy then.” I walked over and leaned back on the desk. “There’s only one way to resolve this shit with them, and that’s ending them once and for all.”
“It’s not gonna be easy to pull that shit off.”
“Maybe not, but with your help...”
I raised my eyebrow and waited for him to finish my thought. As soon as he realized what I was asking, his eyes widened and his voice rose three octaves higher as he asked, “You seriously want me to help you come up with a way to kill off the Punishers?”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do.” He dropped his head in his hands, and for a moment, I thought the man was gonna have a breakdown. Seeing that he was struggling with the concept, I stepped over to him and asked, “Am I wrong, or did they not kill your wife during some fucking raid?”
“They did.”
“Did they or did they not inadvertently kill your son. And not only cost you a kidney, but fifteen years behind bars?”
“Yeah,” he answered, his head still in his hands. “That too.”
“And didn’t you tell me that you wanted to put this life behind you?”
“I did.” He finally looked up at me, and the second I saw the spark of vengeance in his eyes, I knew I had him. “I’ve got one question first.”
“All right.”
“Whatcha gonna do about the runners? You gonna go after them too?” I could hear the concern in his voice as he said, “’Cause they’re not members, they’re just kids, man. Some twelve or thirteen years old. They’re just out there selling so they can survive. You and I both know they don’t make much, but what they do puts food on the table.”
“We’re not in the business of killing kids, brother.”
“Then, I’m good with you killing every last one of them.” He leaned back with a satisfied expression. “They have a meet with the Widow Maker in about a week.”
“Who the fuck is the Widow Maker?”
“He’s in charge of collecting the month’s take. Once he has the dough, he distributes the next month’s goods.”
“Gonna need more than that, Alfonzo,” I pushed. “I need a real name and an address?”
“Look, man. I been at this thing for a long time. One of the reasons why I’m still breathing is the fact that I keep my head down and mind my business. I’m sorry, but I don’t know shit about the guy.”
“Then, tell me what the fuck you do know.”
“Just know that we’re supposed to meet up with him at the old Turner plant on the last Sunday of every month.” He shrugged. “Used to be that we’d grab our shit and go, but the Widow likes to run his fucking mouth and do what he can to shake us up or whatever.”
“And everyone is there?”
“Everyone ’cept Scar and Mathews, but they’re always watching. You can bet your ass on that one.” His tone was full of warning. “You need to really think about this, man. This isn’t a game you can win.”
“The Sinners don’t play games, but if we did, we’d win every fucking time.”
I stayed there for another half hour, making sure I had everything I needed to know about the Punishers’ upcoming meet with the man they called the Widow Maker. Once I was confident, I called Viper and let him in on what I’d learned. While I wanted to be at the clubhouse to add in my own input, I had no doubt that he and Menace would be able to work together to figure out the best plan of action. By the time I started walking back to Ada’s, it was well after ten. I figured Ada and Remington had already gone to bed, so I grabbed me a drink from the fridge and headed into the living room to watch the news.
When I walked in, I found the TV on and Remington curled up on the sofa. Fuck. I didn’t know how long I stood there staring at her, marveling at how beautiful she looked lying there with the glow of the TV illuminating her angelic face before I finally walked over and picked up the remote. I turned off the TV and was surprised when Remington fussed, “Hey, I was watching that.”