Chapter 10The inside of the Lighthouse Tavern looked like every other beach biker-bar along the California coast with a small wooden dance floor, a seating area for about thirty, two pool tables, a twenty-foot bar, and an old jukebox in the corner, blaring out rock-n-roll music. It was large enough to accommodate the usual suspects—a rough crowd of bikers and misfits serviced by a lone barmaid running between them with margaritas and beers. The place was a San Roque landmark—the lure was in its long, disreputable history. Having once served as an embarkation station for steamship passengers running up and down the California coast and a hangout for sailors during World War II, it had since digressed into a meeting place for biker clubs en route between San Francisco and L.A. and a hangout
