Port Sonoma

home.
Although they talked about what badass gangsters they were, they were just dumb, horny punks. When you pull a gun on someone, you don’t talk about shooting it, you just shoot the person. I kept the snub-nosed .38 to use as a belly gun.
When Mitch and I graduated from the police academy, we were told we could use the Sheriff’s department’s .38 Smith and Wesson revolvers or we could buy our own weapons. We saved money from our first two paychecks and bought 9mm Glocks, which have much higher stopping power. We go to a secluded area on the Russian River once a week to practice.
The day after he had picked me up at the pier, I had Mitch drive me to Sammy’s Motorcycle City to get the bike’s electrical system fixed. Sammy Parker was the Vice President of the local chapter of the Road Devil’s motorcycle club. But he usually kept a low profile. Every time he drove his motorcycle and wore his colors he would get pulled over and searched by the police.
One time he had been arrested and jailed. He was put in a holding cell with members of a rival biker gang. He had used his one phone call to contact his girlfriend, but she had refused to bail him out. The other bikers jumped him and began to beat the crap out of him.
After Mitch had pulled them off Sammy, he asked Mitch to call a bail bondsman for him, which Mitch did. He told Mitch if he ever needed any motorcycle repairs to call him at his shop. Ever since then I had taken my bike to Sammy for repairs and he cut his bill in half for me. I returned the favor once, when I cut my fees to check up on a club pledge.