Chapter Four
All in all, it was a productive morning. The oil painting of the motorcycle gleaming in the sunset by the side of a lake was gone. It was sold to a man who Hoodoo thought was going to beg a quarter from him, but pulled a platinum charge card from a weathered, cracked wallet and paid the full asking price of $3,000 without batting an eye.
Hoodoo was still a little off from that and the hangover, but the sudden appearance of all five of his friends put his back up and made him wonder just who he’d offended in a previous life to deserve…this.
“Get out,” Mad-dog said with preamble, shoving past him to take possession of the battered lawn chair which groaned dangerously, a reminder that things in Hoodoo’s world invariably didn’t last long when he tried to use them.
“I can’t, I have to…” Hoodoo gestured at the display, although the effort was weak. Truth be told, he’d had enough of sitting in the sun while people murmured inane things, before passing along to the next booth over. The one giving out samples of home-brewed beer.
“I’ll watch the store!” Val said, giving Mad-dog a look which he returned, right down to the squint and the way she wrinkled her nose. On him it didn’t look so cute.
“And I’ll watch her!” Loki offered.
“Perv,” Val said, batting at his arm, though without heat. She’d made it very clear that in her mind all men were still little boys. The exception to that seemed to be Hoodoo and Mad-dog. She seemed to have a bit of a crush on Mad-dog, and Hoodoo thought maybe she was a little afraid of him though for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he’d done to spook her.
Loki was fair game, though.
“Come on,” Mad-dog said, slapping the thick bole that was Hoodoo’s arm. “Let’s not miss the rally. We came a long way to see it.”
Hoodoo looked from one to another and finally threw up his arms. “Okay!” he said and rose a little easier than last time. He’d been sitting on a chunk of wood, bartered from a guy cutting wood at the campground down by the river. So far it was holding up much better than the lawn chair. “Fine, I’ll go, but…” he rounded on Val. “I am going to have a beer or five, so Momma Leonna, you stay away from that girl’s soul!”
“Alright,” Val laughed, shoving at him, trying to force him out into the crowd. “Just go!”
Hoodoo shook his head and opted to walk, deciding to leave his bike in the booth. The gas tank and the fenders with their pin striping made a very good billboard. Besides, the fun runs would take hours and he didn’t want to be away from the booth too long.
To his surprise, Mad-dog and the Welsh brothers came along. Mad-dog fell in beside him and the brothers took the rear. It was like being on the road again, Mad-dog had been his wingman for a long time now. There was no one he’d rather have at his side.
Except maybe Tracy.
He sighed, and put his concentration into a half-hour of endless wandering, looking in and out of other booths, hearing the roar of passing bikes. It should have been the time of his life. He was here, at Sturgis for Pete’s sake. But even though the shops were fascinating, the image of Tracy with another man, another biker would not let him alone. The fact that she was riding with one of The Bandits made it worse. They had a reputation of dirty deals and dangerous…
“Of all the…” Hoodoo stopped, rounding on his people so fast the Welsh brothers walked right into him. “Why would she take up with The Bandits?”
“Dude,” Danny said, exchanging glances with his brother, and shaking his head. “You gotta let it go. There’s nothing…”
“… more you can do about it now.” Andy finished for his brother, shaking his head in unnatural unison that gave him the willies.
They’d used to drive Hoodoo crazy, but now he expected it. It was just natural to turn to the brother that wasn’t talking; he would be soon enough. Although how they knew how to finish each other’s sentences he’d never been able to figure out. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Hanging around Mama Leonna’s workshop had been creepy enough, right on down to the stuffed ravens and the jar of sheep’s eyeballs in formaldehyde.
Necessary, she used to say. The tourists expected it.
Hoodoo shook his head to dispel the image. “Look, there’s something more to this,” he insisted. “Tracy’s smarter than this! Maybe she’s kidnapped or blackmailed or…”
“Bro!” Mad-dog said sharply. “Let it go! It’s over! The only thing left of Tracy is that bike you’re still trying to pay off. And wasn’t that debt forgiven? I mean seriously man, you’re obsessing.”
“Yeah, but…” Hoodoo crossed his arms and glowered at his best friend. “But it’s a debt. And I pay my debts.”
“Honorable,” Andy said.
“Noble” Danny agreed.
“Stupid.” Mad-dog said. Danny and Andy took an involuntary step backward. Mad-dog was probably the only person on earth that could insult Hoodoo to his face and get away with it. Still, it was a risk. “You’re killing yourself to pay a debt you can’t pay off for a girl that doesn’t want you—and worse, is now with The Bandits! Now you’re trying to deny the evidence. This is not the act of a rational giant!”
Hoodoo glared down at Mad-dog’s six-foot-five frame and said in a slow growl, “I need to talk to her! That’s what! She was in front o’ that place last night, maybe she has a room there.”
“There are six HUNDRED THOUSAND people here!” Mad-dog said, throwing up his hands in disgust, narrowly missing a woman with purple hair, teased out in elaborate spikes. “How you gonna find her in all that? Hell, most folk are camped out in the dirt, under tents!”
Hoodoo swung his arms, ignoring the three girls in short shorts and leather tops that could have come off the set of Wonder Woman. They jumped out of the way, giggling. “I start where I was,” he said, grinning. He clapped Mad-dog’s shoulder. “And work it from there.”
“You didn’t hear a word I said!”
“And it’s a good thing,” Hoodoo called over his shoulder, as he took off at a jog back the way he’d come. “I would have had to hurt you!”
“We’ll catch up,” Mad-dog called behind him, but already his voice was faint, and in all that noise, Hoodoo wasn’t sure he’d actually heard it at all.
***
Hoodoo walked with purpose. Now that he’d made up his mind what he wanted to do, he was going to do it. He’d gone across the busy street, leapt onto the other sidewalk before it occurred to him that he had nowhere to do it. It was one thing to start where he’d seen her last, but now, in the flow and roar of the constant traffic, the press of people, it was harder to envision finding one person in so many. How many had Mad-dog said? More than half a million? His mind boggled, but looking around he could believe it. The constant roar of engines had become a part of the background, the way you stopped noticing the ocean when you’d been on the beach long enough. The smell of exhaust was thick in the air. And everywhere there were vendors. Things to buy. Things to see. Just…people to talk to who spoke your own language. At any other time, Hoodoo would have been in heaven.
Except he knew somewhere in all this mess was Tracy. And God only knew what was happening to her right now. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in trouble.
OK, so find the girl. Think, mon!
The Crocker was a unique bike. That would stand out from the crowd, but there were still thousands of bikes to be looked at. And eliminating one street wouldn’t mean anything, she could just as easily park it there, while he was looking elsewhere. It was like watching for a frog riding down the river on a tree branch. When there’s been a flood and the river was nothing but tree branches and frogs.
OK, maybe that was a bad analogy.
“So, where are we off to?” Mad-dog said, appearing at his side as though he hadn’t been running to catch up. The way he was gasping for breath, half-hunched over with his hands on his knees was a dead giveaway, though.
“Thought this was ‘stupid’,” Hoodoo reminded him, pretending not to notice the way Mad-dog was wheezing.
“I’m your wingman,” Mad-dog shrugged as he slowly straightened, his face flushed. “You do stupid, I do stupid. It don’t matter, I’m still your wingman.”
Hoodoo smiled. OK, maybe he wouldn’t mention to Mad-dog how the man needed to lay off the cheese puffs. As friends went, he was pretty decent. Especially since Hoodoo knew he’d been self-absorbed since Tracy showed up. Yet even knowing it, his mind wouldn’t go anywhere else. “I don’t know where,” he admitted, gesturing at the crowd in dismay. “I don’t know where she’d been staying, Loki saw her almost an hour ago, she’s not still in the restaurant…”
“So? Look for a Bandit and ask?”
Hoodoo raised an eyebrow. “That actually made sense.”
“See? You need me.” Mad-dog grinned. “Let’s start cruising for Bandits.”
“You’re not just a pretty face.” Hoodoo laughed, feeling more hopeful than he had all day.
“Nope.” Mad-dog agreed. “Not just. But it never hurts to be pretty too.”
They walked for several minutes before Mad-dog disappeared. Hoodoo looked around, but his friend was nowhere in the press of people. He retraced his steps, but couldn’t find him. He stopped cold, wondering how the hell he could lose someone in the space of a city block. And just how hopeless looking for one scrappy girl was.
Hoodoo pulled out his cell phone and dialed Mad-dog’s number and heard the opening strains of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant” song seeming to come from right behind him. It was Mad-dog’s ringtone. Hoodoo spun and canceled the call.
“Where were you?” he asked, knowing for damn certain that his friend hadn’t been there a minute ago.
“We need to talk,” Mad-dog said, grabbing Hoodoo’s arm and towing him forward several paces. “But not here.”
Hoodoo dug in his heels. “Why? What…”
“Bro, your lady love’s in trouble.”
Hoodoo glanced over his shoulder back the way he’d come. Something there had spooked Mad-dog.
Mad-dog didn’t spook.
This time when Mad-dog grabbed Hoodoo’s arm, he was able to lead him unresisting through the crowd and back to the booth.