Mikey
Mikey unlocked the shop’s door at ten after ten in the morning. Cam arrived as Mikey put his jacket away. He hooked his car keys on his belt loop. His first client should arrive at 10:30.
Cam clocked in using the computer in the back of the shop. Without hesitation, he printed out the day’s schedule of appointments and sat on a stool behind the display counter.
Mikey readied his tattoo station for Derrick. Today would be his last session for the kneeling angel that spanned the guy’s entire back.
“Hey, uh, I got someone coming in later to check out the space for rent,” Mikey told Cam. One of the artists that had rented space left after the murders last summer linked to Ink Addiction. Mikey didn’t blame the guy. He even thought about closing this location and finding a new place on the other side of town.
The door chime went off and in walked Zeke, one of Needles’ regulars. He was a lumberjack looking dude and a friend of Mikey’s from high school. Zeke had this scary vibe going on, but in reality was usually laid back.
“If you’re looking for Needles, he’s not here,” Mikey told his friend.
Zeke towered over Mikey’s 6’4” frame. The man had to be at least 6’8”. Without a word, only a glare, he took off his fleece-lined flannel and the red t-shirt underneath and turned around. Beneath the black and gray eagle spanning his shoulders, the word ‘Strength’ scrolled across his lower back.
“Cool tat, man,” Cam said.
“Cool? Look closer. Do you see it?!” Zeke said.
“What’s wrong with—”
“Aw, shit,” Mikey said, rubbing his forehead.
“Saw it, didn’t you?”
The word had been spelled incorrectly—instead ‘S-T-R-E-N-G-H-T’ was inked.
Mikey sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Please tell me someone other than Needles did that and you’re here to have it fixed.”
“Oh, I’m here to have it fixed, all right.”
“I’ll fix it, no problem, but you got choices. You either get the last two letters removed first or I do a cover-up. Only with that black ink, you’re better going the removal route.”
“I was afraid you’d say that. Tell that sonofabitch he owes me a hundred and fifty.”
Mikey recoiled. “He charged you how much?”
“One fifty,” Cam piped in. “Only…” he tapped on the keyboard at the computer, “says here you paid a hundred.”
Zeke’s red face turned purple and his fists clenched. “I paid one-fifty!”
Mikey decided against asking the guy if he had checked out the work in the mirror before he left. “I take it Needles freehanded this?”
“Yes. I trusted that mutha—fuck!” Zeke knocked a display of branded t-shirts off the counter. The small wooden crate they’d been stacked in clattered to the cement floor, splintering apart. His fist came down on the glass counter and formed cracks, spider-webbing out.
“Take it easy!” Cam warned. “It’s not Mikey or the t-shirt’s fault. Or the counter, man.”
Needles walked in, the chime signaling his arrival. He glanced at the broken box. “What’s going on in here?”
Zeke stomped over to Needles and grabbed him by the throat.
“Hey!” Needles pounded Zeke’s arms. “Get off me,” he squeaked while his face turned red.
Mikey glanced at Cam before they both pried at Zeke’s hands.
“Killing him isn’t gonna help anything,” Cam said.
It might, Mikey thought. Ned had been scheduling fewer and fewer clients, which meant less rental income. And now this? He prayed the artist looking for space to rent worked out. Mikey was leaning toward telling Ned to clear out his stuff.
Cam released Zeke’s arm and came around to the guy’s back. He jumped up and placed him in a chokehold. Zeke’s hands flew to Cam’s arms. Ned dropped to his knees, gasping for air. His face had turned purple. Zeke was a big ass dude.
Zeke’s arms flailed, then lost their fight. His knees buckled. Cam eased him onto the floor.
Mikey pursed his lips. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Eh, pressure to the carotids for a few seconds usually does the trick.”
“Nice trick,” Derrick said.
Mikey hadn’t noticed his 10:30 client standing by the display counter. Mikey clapped palms with him. “Hey, man, good to see ya.”
“Is this a bad time?”
“Looks that way, huh?” Cam asked.
Everyone looked at Zeke, who moaned. “What the hell? Did you put me out?” His focus wandered over to Cam.
“Whatever beef you have with Ned, you both need to settle it outside the shop,” Mikey said to Zeke.
Zeke labored to his feet. “Sorry about all this.” He swooped the air with his hand.
“Yeah, I’ll send you a bill for the glass.”
Zeke eyed Mikey. “Start by taking what Ned owes you for overcharging me and underpaying you.”
“Oh, hold up. I never overcharged you. Is this what this is about?” Ned said.
“Show him your back, Zeke,” Cam said.
Mikey braced himself for another fight.
“You fucked up his back, man. Spelled ‘Strength’ wrong,” Cam told Ned.
Why the hell did he say that? Mikey narrowed his eyes at Cam and mouthed, What are you doing?
“Bullshit!” Ned shouted.
“You did,” Mikey said, hoping to defuse the situation.
“And you wanna explain to Mikey about charging Zeke $150 and only recording a hundred?” Cam asked.
Mikey put his hand up.
“This is bullshit!” Ned said.
Mikey puffed his chest.
“You calling me a liar?” Zeke asked.
“Damn right!” Ned stood less than two feet from Zeke. The men glowered at each other. Derrick went and stood by Mikey’s tattoo station.
Mikey knew this couldn’t be the first time Ned had cheated him. He wasn’t all that concerned about what the guy charged his clients, except they had a contract. Mikey received 20% of the fees, capped at a certain dollar amount, for leasing space to Ned. “How much? How much, you been shorting me?”
“You’re gonna believe this asshole over me?”
“I’ve known him a lot longer than you. So yeah.”
“This chump is the only one,” Ned said, keeping his eyes on Zeke.
“Pfft. I wouldn’t believe that,” Cam drawled.
Cam was provoking his uncle in a not so subtle fashion. Why? Even though Mikey wanted Ned out, he didn’t want to part on bad terms either. Mikey dragged his palms down his face.
Zeke and Ned glared at one another, neither one ready to back down.
“Oh for fuck sake’s, get out of my shop, both of you!” Mikey snapped. He had a tattoo to do.
Zeke gave Mikey a stiff nod and backed away from Ned toward the front door. At the exit, he motioned with his head at Ned, who followed him outside. They wandered down the strip mall, out of Mikey’s view.
Derrick audibly blew out a breath. “Do you think they’ll be back?”
“Not today,” Mikey answered his client.
“Good.”
“Can you give me a minute?”
Derrick shrugged one shoulder. “Take your time, I’m in no hurry.”
Mikey asked Cam to the back of the shop. “You were purposely egging your uncle on. Why?”
Cam rubbed his jawline. “I don’t like him.”
“Since when?”
“Always, he’s…” Cam looked up, “he’s not who he seems, all right? You don’t know him like I do.”
Mikey’s forehead crinkled. “Something happen between you two I should know about?”
“Heidi Merlow,” Cam said.
“The dead w—” Mikey cleared his throat, “waitress from Cocoa?”
Cam cocked his head and smirked humorlessly.
“What are you saying, you think he killed her?” Mikey whispered.
“I didn’t,” Cam whispered back. “Can your friend handle himself?”
“I thought so, until you put him to sleep.”
“I’m trained.”
Mikey was definitely going to speak to Harry about this conversation. “What are you trained for, MMA fighting?”
Cam chuckled. “Among other things.”
“What other—never mind. I’ve got shit to do and that interview later.” Mikey waved Cam off.