Page 1 of Gold Rush (Murphy’s Pub #3)

Chapter One

They were gone. Like they’d never existed. It was a miracle, but a sinister one.

The BBC or the Blue Badge Cartel, a group of law enforcement officers, retired, fired, and still active, who had formed a crime organization.

Murphy’s employees were not only bartenders but an elite band of criminals, too, stealing high-dollar goods when and where they could.

The two organizations had clashed, and they’d been worried the BBC would come after them.

They were working with an FBI agent and an undercover cop to take the BBC down, being that they didn’t just steal paintings or cars, they sold drugs and trafficked human beings. That was against everything the men at Murphy’s Pub believed.

Murphy had them all sitting around the table, and he told them what Sonny, Taran, and the other law enforcement officers had let him know.

Tally, Murphy’s sister, sat with Ryan, Murphy’s son, and both sighed with relief. “We can bring the kids home,” Ryan said.

“Not yet,” Eazy, Murphy’s husband, said. “Not until we’re sure.”

“What I think,” Cosmo said, “is that they’re laying low. They know the heat that’s on them right now. They may have sent the traffic to other cities, or they’re done completely, at least for now. I’d say they wouldn’t dare fuck with us, hurt us, while they are laying low.”

Hippy agreed, “I think he’s right. If you’re laying low, the last thing you want to do is fuck with a family. That would send up fireworks as to what they’re doing.”

Murphy smiled and said, “I know you all miss the kids. I do too, and if this looks legit, they’ll be back as soon as I can drive them here. Let’s just give it a bit.”

“Does this mean we’re laying low, too?” Mims asked.

Murphy hummed, “Mmm, I don’t know.”

Gold Rush, AKA Goldie, AKA Thomas Marion, said, “I have leads on three pieces of art, on a car, and on a batch of gold coins that are making my palms itch. I’m just waiting for the word that we can hit any of them.”

Murphy sat hard in his chair and said, “Listen, men. I get it. We might miss the thrill of it, and the money too, but even though Taran and Sonny aren’t after us, maybe it’s time we retire? We all make good money from the pub. Maybe it’s time.”

Cosmo groaned, “As soon as I get here.”

“Sorry, Cos, but the rest of us have been at this for years.”

Cosmo wasn’t happy with that. “I’ve been with Taran a while now,” he started, and right away, Goldie and Abs both glanced at Hippy to see his eyes drop. They knew, as did most of the guys, that Hippy had fallen hard for Cosmo, but Cosmo was with the sexy fed, Taran.

“Taran isn’t after us, and if the feds were, he’d tell me. He’s not going to let me go down for theft or anything else if he can help it.”

“Sonny, either,” Mims said of his boyfriend. “He’s…well, he’s not exactly in the loop anymore.”

“I’ll think about it. I get it isn’t fair to Cosmo that we quit before he’s got a sizable nest egg for himself. But we must be sure that those fuckers aren’t waiting for us to get a job going to come back and squash us.”

That was a real concern. The BBC wanted to have a monopoly on all the crime in Denver where they were located. And they had the backing of a lot of their brothers and former brothers in blue to do it.

Goldie told them, “Why don’t I stake them out, and if I get any hint of the BBC or their people, I’ll come on home and tell you all to forget it for now at least?”

They all agreed that was the best way to go, being Goldie was terribly thorough in his part of the jobs.

As they adjourned, Abs sidled up to Goldie, his best friend, and whispered, “Want some help?”

“Are you between boyfriends and bored?”

“I don’t have boyfriends. I have men who pass the time.”

“So, you’re between those and are bored.”

“Yeah,” he said in a chirp. “Do I wear all black and slink around outside of places, taking pictures with micro cameras?”

“Only if you want to really draw attention to yourself.”

“So, what do I wear?”

Goldie rolled his eyes, which always annoyed Abs. The skinny little blond rolled his so much, Goldie was shocked they were still in the sockets, but let someone do it to him…

“I don’t have your huge muscles and tight bubble butt. I need the clothes to do the work for me.”

He could never stay annoyed with his friend. “Fine, how about some jeans, a casual shirt, not a lot of makeup.”

His jaw dropped over that.

“Just so you don’t stand out in anyone’s mind. And you don’t want to draw the attention of anyone who is watching CCTV in the area, either.

“This could be a problem. I always stand out, even when I’m not dressed for success. I’ll go see what I have. Say, I can ask one of the other guys for their boring clothes.”

Goldie wanted to warn him to be nice, but none of the guys minded when Abs dissed their clothes. In fact, he’d helped them all dress better during the weekend shifts, so their tips got better.

He, on the other hand, rarely wore anything except muscle shirts and jeans. He was a big man, and he just wasn’t comfortable in anything else.

Sure, sweats or shorts to work out, dressier stuff when he had a date. That has been rare lately. He hadn’t had a date for a month, hadn’t had anything resembling a boyfriend in over a year.

He was busy, though, so he didn’t notice much, at least until he got into bed and felt all that empty space next to him…

As he ordered a rideshare, Abs met him out front of the pub.

Murphy’s Pub was a great place to live and work.

All the guys lived on the second and third floors of the building and worked a shift alone during the week.

On the weekends, however, was when they shined, all working as a team, putting on shows with their masterful handling of the liquor bottles and dancing behind and even on top of the bar.

Abs came out of the double doors wearing a plain blue T-shirt and black jeans. No makeup or even nail polish. Goldie was a little shocked, and it must have showed.

“I’m getting a mani/pedi tomorrow, so I had to clean off my nails, anyway.”

“Right. Well, you still stand out in a crowd, babe.”

He leaned into his friend and giggled a little. “Thanks.”

They got dropped off four blocks from where they needed to go, but he never dropped closer than that.

Often, they asked him why he even used ride shares to stake out places, and his answer was simple.

“No license plates to copy that are mine, and I have five different accounts for my ride shares on my phone, so the name is never the same.”

He could use Murphy’s SUV, or rent a car, of course, and he had done both, but for him, nothing was better than walking a place.

Walking, he got to sense the place. How the ground felt, the air circulating around the buildings and trees, the way the place smelled, like if there were nearby greasy spoons or gas stations.

Anything public was good. They could blend in, be part of the crowd, a part of the flow of foot traffic that was the true heartbeat of any city.

They could be just a group of friends who were heading to the bar for a beer or two and some laughs.

Anything that could make them invisible, because he told people to face it. In a city, invisibility was assured.

After thanking the driver, they walked along the sidewalk on a street in the north area of the city. The people dressed differently, spoke differently than those downtown, which Goldie knew well. He’d walked and driven nearly every street in the city and surrounding areas.

There were less unnatural hair colors, less painted nails on men, but that didn’t mean people were uptight about it. The upper suburbs were simply more working-class people just getting through their days, unable to express themselves like those in the center of the city did.

There was less art, on people or on the streets, but they were kind, friendly. Except when they got behind the wheel of their cars, where they turned into raging psychopaths with good reason.

Already, Goldie took mental notes of burger joints and a bowling alley, two car washes and a tire shop. Down the street a few blocks, he knew there was a huge hardware store, and a strip mall with more chain stores.

It was perfect.

“What is up here, of all that you mentioned?” Abs asked as he checked out a homeless man who was bare-chested and flying a sign on the corner of the main drag.

“Really, Abs?”

“He’s got a nice body, okay?”

“Whatever,” he laughed. “This is the place with the gold coins. A guy up here who owns one of these strip malls also owns two apartment buildings that haven’t been up to code in thirty years.

Rats the size of Harleys. He buys new gold coins every month after he collects the rent on all his of properties.

He never puts a dime in them unless they're one of the better businesses he rents to, then he puts in some effort.”

“That’s why I love you,” Abs chimed. “You are a social justice warrior while you rob people blind.”

“Thanks. I like to diversify.”

The mangey little office the man, Leo Bent, occupied most days at the very end of his cheapest and most dilapidated strip mall.

The sign never read open and instead had a perpetual back in fifteen sign on the door.

He was too busy in the back, counting his coins, to do business without a strict appointment.

“That’s it, that office there on the end,” Goldie said as they walked along the strip mall. “But don’t give it much of a look when we pass.”

“Sure. I’m looking at that nail place we just passed. Fifteen-dollar nails?”

“You don’t want them. They don’t clean their equipment.”

“How do you know?”

Goldie just smiled.

“Right,” Abs said, poking a long, thin finger into his side. “You do your research.” He then asked, “How long have you been scoping this place?”

“Five months, on and off, when I have some free time.”

“You never have free time. Your free time is rehearsing or working out.”