cigarette. “It’s so much easier selling hash.”
“Agreed,” Ghost said, mildly. “But I can’t put hash on my tax return, so.”
“The café and the empty place are totally demo’d,” Walsh continued. “Stripped down to the studs, and all the wiring and plumbing checks out on both. We can’t move forward until we know what’s going in.”
“Maggie will get to make the big café decisions,” Ghost said, and there were nods all around.
“Albie, you were gonna draw up a list of things you’d need for Maude’s?”
He nodded and produced a paper list from his cut pocket that he passed down the length of the table toward his brother. When Carter handed it down, he caught a glimpse of tidy, precise writing in pencil, a thorough, front-and-back list organized by categories and brands. Albie had put a lot of thought into it, obviously; spent time debating and researching different options.
Carter couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that, he thought with a little pang.
Walsh scanned the list, nodded, and tucked it into his folder. “I’ll make up a list for the contractors. You’ll need to do another walk-through and come up with a layout,” he told Albie.
“Yeah, I can do that.”
Ghost clicked a button on the projector, and the image changed: a close-up of the boarded windows of Bell Bar, and the unimaginative graffiti painted across the plywood.
“We’ve replaced the wood twice this week,” Ghost said. “And twice last week, and the week before. And this keeps happening.”
“You need cameras,” Hound said.
“We’re putting them in,” Ghost assured. “But then the question is: if we find out who’s doing this, what do we do with the footage?”
“Shake some cages,” Mercy said with a grin. He cracked his knuckles. “Time for some little dipshits to get scared.”
“Wrong,” Ghost said, frowning. “I mean, yeah, that’s what I want to do. But we have to play this smart. There’s a spotlight on those shops, on the bar. If the public knows we’re setting up businesses on Main Street, then they’ll know that any retaliation against these punks came from us.”
Mercy sighed.
Rottie said, “Have you talked to Fielding about it?”
“Yeah, and he pointed out that the Dogs just got done being in the national news about that whole business in Texas. He thinks that’s what the graffiti’s about: dirty FBI and Dogs all tangled in an international cartel bust – he says people are more afraid of us than ever, and it’s, quote, ‘bound to draw a little payback.’”
“I feel like he musta been grinning when he said that,” RJ muttered.
“Kinda,” Ghost muttered. “And, the bad part is: he’s not wrong, really.”
“We gonna hire a PR guy?” Mercy asked, and sounded like he was only half-joking, his smile slipping away.
Ghost didn’t answer a moment, and Carter felt a jolt of tension move through his stomach. Felt it echoing in the frisson that moved around the table. Chairs creaked as Lean Dogs shifted forward in them.
“We’ve always had an optics problem,” Ghost said. “It comes with the territory. The club has a reputation, and it’s not like we didn’t earn it.
“But we’re not small anymore. It’s okay if everyone hates a little club without any reach. But at this point? We’re very visible. We have power, and people know it. People in this city see us as the enemy.” He gestured to the projected image on the wall. “If someone puts a brick through Bell Bar’s window one night, you know how it’s gonna get spun. The club attracted gang violence to the heart of the downtown shopping district,” he said, scowling. “We can’t let that happen. We need to be in charge of the narrative here.”
No one looked surprised. Carter certainly wasn’t. Anyone who knew Ghost Teague at all knew that he wanted to be in charge of everything – narrative included.
“We’re going to have to be more visible in a positive way.”
“We’ve got that charity run next month,” Rottie said.
“Right. And there’s the thing the Texas girls put together.” Ghost nodded toward Walsh, who produced a new set of paperwork that he passed down the table. Ghost clicked the projector, and the next image was one of three girls, all smiling at the camera; three separate photos laid out alongside one another. “They busted a massive sex-trafficking ring down there,” Ghost continued. “The Chupacabras cartel was snatching American women off the streets and selling them into slavery. All the missing girls from the southwest were accounted for at the rescue, save these three.” He gestured down the