hotels. Bad guys. This was in the 90’s, and there
were all sorts of ATM scams, still are, but worse back then before we had the
technology to stop some of them. These guys were stealing money left and right,
credit card fraud, identity theft. Plus, they had something going on with a
couple local dealers, slinging heroin.
Samantha, this was serious business. Serious, serious
business. We waited for months to dig up enough dirt on them to put the leader
away, if not the whole horde. But, you know, things just moved slowly. Trying
to gather evidence, trying to make a case that would stick. These guys were as
smart as they were bad.
But we got them, finally. We had enough to make it
stick. We got re-enforcements to come up from Billings, got ready to swarm the
hotel, take ‘em all down. But when we got there…
I don’t know how they left without anyone noticing. I
mean, those bikes make a lot of noise, you’d think someone would have noticed.
But no one did…the hotel was empty, Samantha. They’d cleared out. The only
thing left? Two bodies. Dead bodies. One of them was one of their chicks, a
worn-out looking gal, couldn’t have been much older than you. Poor thing was
probably doomed from birth. Worst case of meth mouth I’ve ever seen.
And the other body was Danny Giordino. He was…I’ll
just, I’ll never forget it. It’s one of those moments as a cop when you realize
how…how dangerous it all is. You were so young, Samantha, and I saw that body,
and I thought, what if I never see my little girl grow up?” Dad was welling up
now; I felt like my heart was breaking.
Have you ever seen your father cry? It’s something
most people would be a lot better off never seeing, I’d wager. I felt my own eyes filling with tears,
saw my mother’s head hanging low, as we sat in silence.
“Two bodies. One cop, one woman. We couldn’t tell,
from the way the bodies were splayed out, who’d shot who. We knew she didn’t
shoot him. He might have shot her. We didn’t know. We didn’t know how he’d
gotten there, either. He wasn’t on a call. He was a good cop, though. And I
think…
Well, I’ll tell you what I think. I think he went
there to try and save that little boy. See, the woman, she was shacked up with
the leader of the group. Their president, so to speak. Tank Culver,” Dad said,
his eyes now growing cold. The name shook me. I knew that was Boon’s father. I
didn’t need Dad to finish the story; I had all the pieces now, could figure it
out for myself. But I wanted to hear him tell it. Tell me. Make it make sense.
“Real name John Culver. Biker name Tank. He and this
woman had a son. That young man,” Dad said, his tone growing darker with each
word. “That young man you’ve been…fraternizing with. I recognized him. He
couldn’t have been more than 12 at the time, but I recognized him. After
Giordino, I studied all our surveillance for days. I couldn’t get it out of my
head. I think Giordino went there to try and get her and the kid out before the
place got raided. So they wouldn’t have to see…”
Dad trailed off. We sat in silence, the ticking clock
the only noise. Finally, he sighed again.
“I know it’s not his fault, what happened to Giordino.
I know that, Samantha. But he’s bad news. Boys like that, they grow up bad, and
they only get worse. If he’s got half the piss and vinegar in his blood that
his dad had…I think that’s who did it, by the way. I’m pretty sure, it was John
Culver. Who else? That boy’s no good. I don’t want him in my city, I don’t want
him in my block, I don’t want him near my daughter,” Dad said, finishing with a
stare that turned my blood to ice.
I sat, turning the story around and around in my
brain. I imagined Boon as a young boy, a pre-teen, on the back of his father’s
bike, fleeing the scene of the crime. I imagined two bodies, pools of blood. I
imagined my father standing over
were all sorts of ATM scams, still are, but worse back then before we had the
technology to stop some of them. These guys were stealing money left and right,
credit card fraud, identity theft. Plus, they had something going on with a
couple local dealers, slinging heroin.
Samantha, this was serious business. Serious, serious
business. We waited for months to dig up enough dirt on them to put the leader
away, if not the whole horde. But, you know, things just moved slowly. Trying
to gather evidence, trying to make a case that would stick. These guys were as
smart as they were bad.
But we got them, finally. We had enough to make it
stick. We got re-enforcements to come up from Billings, got ready to swarm the
hotel, take ‘em all down. But when we got there…
I don’t know how they left without anyone noticing. I
mean, those bikes make a lot of noise, you’d think someone would have noticed.
But no one did…the hotel was empty, Samantha. They’d cleared out. The only
thing left? Two bodies. Dead bodies. One of them was one of their chicks, a
worn-out looking gal, couldn’t have been much older than you. Poor thing was
probably doomed from birth. Worst case of meth mouth I’ve ever seen.
And the other body was Danny Giordino. He was…I’ll
just, I’ll never forget it. It’s one of those moments as a cop when you realize
how…how dangerous it all is. You were so young, Samantha, and I saw that body,
and I thought, what if I never see my little girl grow up?” Dad was welling up
now; I felt like my heart was breaking.
Have you ever seen your father cry? It’s something
most people would be a lot better off never seeing, I’d wager. I felt my own eyes filling with tears,
saw my mother’s head hanging low, as we sat in silence.
“Two bodies. One cop, one woman. We couldn’t tell,
from the way the bodies were splayed out, who’d shot who. We knew she didn’t
shoot him. He might have shot her. We didn’t know. We didn’t know how he’d
gotten there, either. He wasn’t on a call. He was a good cop, though. And I
think…
Well, I’ll tell you what I think. I think he went
there to try and save that little boy. See, the woman, she was shacked up with
the leader of the group. Their president, so to speak. Tank Culver,” Dad said,
his eyes now growing cold. The name shook me. I knew that was Boon’s father. I
didn’t need Dad to finish the story; I had all the pieces now, could figure it
out for myself. But I wanted to hear him tell it. Tell me. Make it make sense.
“Real name John Culver. Biker name Tank. He and this
woman had a son. That young man,” Dad said, his tone growing darker with each
word. “That young man you’ve been…fraternizing with. I recognized him. He
couldn’t have been more than 12 at the time, but I recognized him. After
Giordino, I studied all our surveillance for days. I couldn’t get it out of my
head. I think Giordino went there to try and get her and the kid out before the
place got raided. So they wouldn’t have to see…”
Dad trailed off. We sat in silence, the ticking clock
the only noise. Finally, he sighed again.
“I know it’s not his fault, what happened to Giordino.
I know that, Samantha. But he’s bad news. Boys like that, they grow up bad, and
they only get worse. If he’s got half the piss and vinegar in his blood that
his dad had…I think that’s who did it, by the way. I’m pretty sure, it was John
Culver. Who else? That boy’s no good. I don’t want him in my city, I don’t want
him in my block, I don’t want him near my daughter,” Dad said, finishing with a
stare that turned my blood to ice.
I sat, turning the story around and around in my
brain. I imagined Boon as a young boy, a pre-teen, on the back of his father’s
bike, fleeing the scene of the crime. I imagined two bodies, pools of blood. I
imagined my father standing over
Similar Books
