Charming Pawse From NS to Out Chapt IX Devil Take the Hindmost

by wanderingchat

Cat enjoys a day of rest and fun with her friends at her father's direction. While she's gon and her father lies helplessly in his hospital bed, her long - time nemesis visits in disguise and reintroduces Rev. Marshall to 'Mr. Mayhem'. Fawn starts her new life in LA with Kendra. Gemma confronts Tig over being left out of the conflict with Dawn, angering Tig with her negativity.

No copyright infringement is intended.

Any use of lyrics and the mention of songs and performers in this text is also not intended to infringe upon any copyrights held by any of the artists.

All original characters that are not part of the SOA universe are products of my own imagination. Any similarities to real persons are pure coincidence.

Much thanks to Mr. Kurt Sutter for creating the SOA universe in the first place, and to Mr. Kim Coates for his excellent portrayal of Alex 'Tig' Trager.

Charming Pawse

From NS to Out

Chapter IX

Devil Take the Hindmost

Dawn gazed out the bus window at the city of the Angels, a look of childish delight lighting her face. Neon lights glowed brightly from the streets that ran under the interstate as the bus moved towards the city's center and the bus terminal.

'So this where I'll make my mark on the world.' She thought to herself, gazing at all the buildings she knew from watching television. The sight made her eyes grow wide with wonder and excitement. Her biggest disappointment was that she couldn't see the famous Hollywood sign from the bus.

Cars, trucks, limos, and taxi cabs surrounded and passed the lumbering bus. There were even a few motorcycles, though none of the riders wore cuts. The vehicles ranged from the most expensive on the market to the rustiest beater. The closer they came to downtown LA, the larger the buildings appeared, some seemed to disappear in the haze of smog that covered the city, blocking out the stars and moon.

'I wonder if Kendra will be at the bus station to meet me?' Dawn wondered. It was the first time she'd thought about her old friend since Kozik placed her on the bus in Charming. He'd not given Kendra's phone number to her, so she could only hope she'd be waiting. 'If she's not there, I'll just have to get a hotel for the night and start apartment hunting tomorrow. Was gonna have to do that anyway.' A frown crossed her features at a sudden thought. 'Shit! Maybe Kozik just said I could stay with Kendra to make me feel more comfortable about leavin'!'

She refused to think of him as an 'Uncle'; his behavior had been anything but filial. She felt hurt and betrayed that he had sided with his father's wife instead of his godchild. 'I don't see why he made such a big deal of it! So I forged her name on a check and took the money! Big deal! She's not my mother, and I was never gonna get anywhere on that minimum wage job she gave me! He and the other club members acted like I committed a major crime!'Dawn reassuringly stroked her backpack, taking a small amount of comfort from the thousands of dollars stashed inside. If she were careful, she could eke out a comfortable living for a few months until she managed to land a job in the entertainment industry.

The bus pulled into the terminal lot and pulled to a stop in front of the building. An awning covered the area between the front of the bus and the building entrance. The driver opened the door and stepped out to open the baggage compartment.

The passengers began stirring the minute the bus pulled into the lot, into the terminal, gathering their belongings in preparation to depart. Dawn remained seated and waited until the passengers clogging the aisle got off the bus. Once there was room to move, she picked up her backpack and walked down the aisle, glancing out the windows on each both sides of the bus to see if Kendra was waiting for her. The only people she saw were the driver and her fellow passengers retrieving their luggage.

'It's been awhile since I saw her anyway. God only knows what she looks like now!' Dawn reminded herself. 'Guess she could be waiting inside.' She squared her shoulders, stepped off the bus, and collected her small suitcase. Then she turned from the bus and walked into the terminal.

---

Kendra was less than pleased about the 'favor' her father had asked her to perform. She'd thought she was done with the club when she left Tacoma for LA. There'd been limited contact with her father after her move, the occasional call would come in from him to say 'hello', or she would call on occasion to do the same. Cards were exchanged on birthdays, Christmas, and she always sent a card on Father's Day, but that was the extent of their connection.

'I dunno why I agreed to take Dawn in, except Daddy seemed to think it was important to give her a safe place to stay,' she mused on the way into the bus terminal. Kozik had given her the bus number and ETA when he'd called after Dawn's bus had left Charming.

"What's to keep her from gettin' off somewhere between there and here?" She inquired dryly.

"The driver will see to it," Kozik informed her. "It only has to be overnight, baby. It'll really help."

"What the Hell has that bitch done this time?" Kendra growled. "I think it's only fair for me to know what I'm gettin' into!"

Kozik sighed in resignation. "I was hopin' ya wouldn't ask."

"You know me better than that, Daddy. So what'd she do?"

"She stole a big chunk of change from Tig's wife and needs to get outta town before she's arrested."

"Jesus Christ!" Kendra exclaimed. "Stealin' from family isn't cool! Is that why you're gettin' her outta town? The old lady's pressin' charges?"

"No, she's the one wantin' to get Dawnie outta town before the check issuer does learns her ID and has her charged," her father explained.

"Shit! And you expect me to put her up for a night?"

"Just for the one night, baby. You can always lock up the valuables," her father pleaded. "Colleen would do as much for you!"

"That's bullshit and you know it, Daddy!" Kendra snorted. "But 'Uncle Tig' would help me if I needed it, so I'll do it for him."

"Thanks, baby!" Kozik sighed in relief.

"What I don't get is why Dawn would do such a thing to her father's wife? It doesn't make sense!"

"Does anything those two girls do ever make sense?" he countered.

"You've got a point there," Kendra sighed. Tig's daughters had been like sisters to her when they lived in Tacoma. Tig and Kozik were godfathers to each other's children. She had gotten into the same misadventures and receiving the same punishments as Fawn and Dawn until Kozik and Tig had the falling out.

Her mother had followed Kozik to SAMTAW, breaking Kendra's heart at leaving her best friends behind. They wrote letters and sent cards for birthdays and Christmas, but it wasn't the same. She hadn't seen Dawn in years, but it sounded like the girl was still a wild card.

"Maybe sittiin' in the slammer would be a good thing for Dawn. Might give her a wake up call. I'll bet she doesn't even realize how lucky she is at the moment!" She announced.

'I agree, but that's not an option, so the club's doin' the best thing we can," Kozik remarked.

"I feel sorry for Tig's wife," Kendra stated gruffly. "She sounds too nice to be in that family." Her father had told her some time ago that Tig had gotten married again, and the type of woman he'd married. Kendra had been somewhat surprised that the SAMCRO SAA had chosen someone not in the life, but it seemed to be working well for him.

"That's prolly why Tig chose her, honey," Kozik replied. "I appreciate ya doin' this. I owe ya one."

"Damn straight you do," she grinned wryly.

She was leaning against the wall near the terminal entrance where the bus from Charming was due to arrive. Her father had sent her a cell picture of Dawn, whose mutinous expression confirmed her opinion of Dawn's psychological status.

A young woman dressed in a skimpy tank top, short shorts, plenty of beads, and knee boots tramped through the doorway. The outfit matched the picture her father had sent her. Kendra would've recognized her without the picture. 'Yup! She hasn't changed a bit!' Kendra launched herself from the wall to plant herself in the girl's path, forcing her to stop in her tracks.

"Do ya mind?" Dawn snarled.

"Never have, just like you," Kendra grinned.

Dawn nearly dropped her back pack in relief and surprise. She maintained her hold on because too many people might make off with it if she let it fall to the floor. "Kendra?"

"Dawn?" the blonde girl mimicked.

"Jesus, girl! You've grown up!" Dawn exclaimed, opening her arms to give her old friend a hug.

"Wish I could say the same for you," Kendra remarked, stepping away from the hug and raising a preventative hand. "You really fucked up, girl."

"So you heard," Dawn grumbled, hefting her back pack over her shoulder.

"Yeah, Daddy brought me up to speed. We'll talk in the car," Kendra turned and started towards the parking lot, not waiting to see if Dawn followed her nor offering to take the suitcase from the girl.

Dawn stared in shock and surprise at her friend's retreating back. She hadn't expected to get any reception at all, but getting the cold shoulder from her old pal was like getting a bucket of cold water thrown in her face. 'I have a bad feelin' about this!' She hurried after Kendra and caught up with her in the parking lot.

Kendra was standing next to an older model two door car. She had unlocked the trunk and indicated Dawn should put her back pack and suitcase inside. Without uttering a word to the girl, Kendra climbed behind the steering wheel and started the engine.

Dawn slipped into the passenger seat and closed the door. "Seat belt required?"

"Only because I don't wanna hear that damn alarm go off!" Kendra growled, putting the car in gear and pulling out of the parking space.

Dawn complied and sat in silence, sulking over the welcome Kendra had given her. She waited until the car was traveling on the busy street to state, "So you said your father filled ya in on why I'm here."

"I dunno what you were thinkin' of. You know that it's not right to steal from family!" Kendra exclaimed.

"That bitch isn't my family!" Dawn hissed.

"That's where you're wrong!" Kendra insisted. "Your father married her, that makes her family whether you like it or not. It's no different than if I'd stolen money from your mother!"

"As if!" Dawn laughed harshly. "When has she ever had money just to steal?"

"That's not the point," Kendra replied. "Why don't ya like the woman your father married?"

"Because she's usin' me to get in good with Daddy!" Dawn retorted.

"Seems to me if your father married her, she's already 'in good' with him," Kendra remarked.

"Yeah, right!" Dawn snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and staring out the window. "Everybody's been treatin' me like a major criminal!"

"Well, from what I hear, you did somethin' pretty heinous. Forgin' someone else's signature on a check? That's big time. You're really lucky not to be sittin' in the SJCCF right now!"

"Oh, please! She just didn't wanna get in trouble with Daddy by filin' charges!" Dawn huffed. "That's all there is to it!"

"Let's see, she let ya stay in their house, gave ya a job, took ya to see your dad in Stockton every weekend. Yeah, that makes her a real bitch and justifies ya takin' money from her, then she goes so far as to decline to file charges on your sorry little ass! And she's doin' it all to stay in your Dad's good graces!" Kendra replied sarcastically.

"Oh, get off your high horse, Kendra! You're hardly in any position to make moral judgments about me!" Dawn snapped. She was surprised that Kendra knew so much about her life at her father's house. 'Prolly learned all that from Kozik. No tellin' what else he told her!'

"It's not a moral judgment, it's a statement of fact. You fucked up major league and you don't appreciate just how damn lucky you are! The sooner you realize that, the better off you're gonna be!" Kendra growled.

Dawn snorted derisively, crossed her arms, and looked out the side window. Everyone she knew was taking Cat's side against her. No one was even bothering to ask for her side of the story! "Pull over and let me out, then! I'll find my own place!"

"Don't be a dumb ass! That backpack would bring every pimp in a one mile radius down on you," Kendra replied, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. "So unless ya wanna jump outta a moving vehicle, sit still, shut up, and enjoy the ride!" She glanced sideways at her friend and wrinkled her nose. 'Dawn's not gonna change her mind about what she did, and I think I know why!' She returned her gaze to the road ahead and stated gently, "Ya know, it's not your step – mother's fault that Tig refuses to consider remarryin' Colleen."

"What the fuck are ya talkin' about?" Dawn cried.

"You've always hoped your parents would get back together and now that won't happen because Tig married someone else," Kendra pointed out. "You're takin' it out on that woman, and that's really not fair."

"What do you know about it?" Dawn snarled. 'Well, to be fair, her parents split up too, but Kozik never remarried.'

"Not a damn thing about remarriage. I just know what Daddy told me about your Dad. Cat sounds like a very loyal and down to earth person. From what Daddy said, she tried to show you that she genuinely she cared about you, is that such a bad thing?"

"It is when she's in the way!" Dawn blurted. She clapped a hand over her mouth in dismay, but there was no taking the words back.

Kendra turned into a restaurant parking lot, put the car in park, and turned off the engine. She turned to face her friend and laid a hand on the other girl's arm. "It's a'right, Dawnie. I kinda figured that was the problem, and I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"Thanks," Dawn muttered, staring out the side window.

"It's not an excuse for stealin' from family, but what's done is done, girlfriend. Guess you're gonna have to live with it," Kendra added.

"So does that mean you're not puttin' me up for the night?"

Kendra sighed inwardly, thinking back to her own arrival in LA and what it was like trying to manage on her own. 'No one helped me out when I came here. I owe 'Uncle' Tig that much!' She tapped Dawn on the shoulder so she'd face her. When the girl reluctantly turned her to face her, Kendra replied, "Nah. Regardless of what I think about what ya did, you're still part of my family."

"Could've fooled me!" Dawn huffed.

"At least I'm bein' honest with ya!" Kendra shrugged. "Look, I know Daddy said you were only goin' to stay the night, but I'll put ya up for a week so you can find a place to live and look for a job."

"One week?"

"Yeah, I think that's plenty of time," Kendra acknowledged. "It's not a freebie; gonna cost ya 200 bucks."

Dawn didn't need to think about the offer, it was better than doing anything on her own. Her feelings were hurt by Kendra's comments about the theft, but she'd gladly overlook that for staying somewhere safe with someone
she knew. "That sounds fair," she muttered.

"Don't sound all excited about it!" Kendra grinned wryly. "You're gettin' the couch. You hungry?"

"A little," Dawn lied. She hadn't eaten for hours. Her stomach rumbled noisily at the mention of food.

"I don't like cookin' this late. We'll grab some grub here, maybe start plannin' your future while we eat."

---

'Brownie' hung around the campus in his student disguise after work so he could find a ride to Indianapolis. He found several notices in the student paper and the bulletin board ads that sought riders to share costs to Indianapolis. It turned out that a national gaming convention was taking place that weekend and many drivers were seeking passengers. He used a courtesy phone from the hospital to call the numbers listed on the ads to make arrangements. Some of the drivers he spoke with were also looking for people to share the cost of a hotel room for the convention.

'Brownie' backed out of those calls as quickly as possible, using the ruse that he needed to visit a sick friend in the hospital as his reason for going to the capital city. 'Why can't these fucktards indicate they want roommates on their fuckin' ads?' he growled to himself after the fifth such contact. 'That convention's turnin' out to be a pain in the ass!'

He struck pay dirt on the sixth call. A girl answered the phone to his surprise. In his experience, females weren't into gaming as fervently as men. There were some exceptions, but those girls generally weren't much to look at.

"So you're calling about the ad. Are you going to the convention?" The girl asked.

He liked her voice. It was low and sultry, reminding him of the old black and white movies where the female singer's voice was always smoky and sad sounding.

"Nah," he replied in the higher pitched voice he was affecting for the collegiate disguise. "I've got a friend in the hospital that I wanna visit."

"Sorry to hear about your friend," the girl stated. "But if you're looking for a ride to the city, I can oblige you."

"Are you going to the convention?" He inquired.

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it. My folks live in Indy, so I don't have to worry about payin' for a hotel," she explained.

"So you're not looking for roommates?"

"Oh, Hell no!" She laughed.

'Brownie' couldn't help being intrigued by the girl. She had a great voice, and she was into gaming. Alarm bells pealed in his head as he experienced a bit of deja vu from the similarities between the two women. 'Shit! The cunt sounds like Cat all over again!' He rubbed his chin in consternation. Same low voice, same interest in games. 'Best not to get too interested, likely she's as much of a dog as Cat was!'

Her voice brought back memories of the same low voice he'd heard long ago on the Vincennes campus radio station. He'd called the request line a few times to talk to ICat, but she always politely but firmly refused to meet him in private. When he offered to meet her at the student union, she accepted the offer. He was excited at the idea of meeting his dream woman in person, only to be rudely let down by the real thing. Instead of finding the woman of his dreams, he met an overweight, bespectacled female who was into the fledgling video game industry, all kinds of science – fiction, and the role -playing game Dungeons and Dragons. Despite his let down, he was still interested enough to see her a few more times, gaining her trust and getting a few hundred bucks in his pocket for his trouble.

'It was a good hustle until I had to leave town in a hurry. I missed the cash, but was glad to leave her behind!' He recalled. 'Lightnin' can't strike twice in the same place! Maybe this one won't be a dog!' He shuddered at the possibility but replied brightly, "And I'm just lookin' for a ride!"

"Sounds like a match made in Heaven!" The girl laughed. She told him how much she would charge for a ride, which he felt was reasonable. 'Would be better if I didn't have to pay anything, but it won't break the bank.'

"So where do you want to meet?" She asked.

"How about outside Beckes Union on Friday?" He suggested. He deliberately picked a public area, knowing the girl would feel more comfortable. It didn't seem ironic at all that the student union was the same place he'd offered to meet Cat.

"That works. How will I know you?"

He described his collegiate persona to her, adding, " I assume you'll want to leave from there, so I'll be carrying a military type back pack. That won't be a problem, will it?"

"Nah. We'll just toss in the trunk, if that's OK with you."

"How many people are going?"

"Just us, so far. Is that going to be a problem?" She countered.

"Only if it causes a price increase," 'Brownie' assured her.

"It won't."

They settled on a time and she gave him a description of herself. 'Hmmm, if she looks as good as she says she is, and no one else takes her up on a ride, maybe we can use the trip to get friendly in more ways than one!'

---

Fawn was angry and embarrassed by her mother's behavior at her workplace. Though her boss was sympathetic, it did nothing to ease her feelings. She drove over to her mother's house after work and stormed in without knocking. "Where the Hell are you, Mother?" She hollered angrily.

Colleen stood in the middle of her bedroom, a large bundle of greenbacks gathered to her bosom. Her eyes grew wide at the sound of her daughter's angry voice and she looked frantically for a temporary hiding place for her ill-gotten gain. She opened a random dresser drawer and shoved the money inside. She shoved it closed just as Fawn pushed open the bedroom door.

"What are you doing here?" Colleen growled.

"You dare ask me that after the stunt you pulled at my job?" Fawn snarled back. "You could've gotten me fired!"

"Oh, well, I'm sorry about all that. Knocking over the display was an accident!" Colleen muttered.

"Some accident!" Fawn snorted. "My boss sent me over with a message for you."

"What's that?"

"You're no longer welcome at the store. If you return, he'll have you arrested for trespass!" Fawn informed her mother, her eyes glittering in triumph. Her boss hadn't said anything of the kind, but her mother had no way of knowing that. "The same applies if you ever show up at my house again!"

"Ungrateful little bitch! You owe me for giving you life!" Colleen howled. "How can you treat me like this?"

"How can you treat me the way you did today? Have I ever shown up where you work demanding money?" Fawn countered. She raised a hand to prevent her mother from answering. "Don't bother. I forgot. You don't work so it's a moot question. I'm just surprised you haven't pulled the same stunt on Dawn!"

"Oh, I paid her a visit today," Colleen snapped. "It's a little more tolerable in Charming with that gash out-of-town."

"I wish you didn't have such a bad attitude towards the woman Daddy married," Fawn sighed. "She's treated us pretty well!"

"I told you why she does that!" Colleen replied hotly. "It's just to stay on your father's good side!"

"Whatever," Fawn tossed her hands up in resignation. "I just came by to let you know you're not welcome at my house or job any more." She turned around and headed towards the front door.

"Aren't you interested in knowing what happened to your sister?" Colleen inquired anxiously, changing her tone from the offensive one she'd been using.

Fawn stopped short and turned to face her mother, her eyebrows raised inquiringly. "What do you mean? Is she all right?"

"She was when SAMCRO sent her outta town," Colleen smirked.

"What the Hell happened?" Fawn asked. "Why would the club send her out of Charming?"

"I should tell you to ask your step - mother, since she's the one that ordered it!" Colleen smiled nastily.

Fawn's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Just tell me what happened, Mother!"

Colleen's eyes glinted in triumph while she told her daughter her own version of the events leading to Dawn's hurried departure from Charming. She left out any reference to her own involvement in the matter. "That bitch ordered the club to remove your sister from her house and send her out-of-town. She didn't even ask your father's opinion!"

Fawn frowned intently. She could tell her mother was stretching the truth to gain a small amount of sympathy from her. What her mother was telling her didn't add up just based on Fawn's own experience with her step - mother. Though Dawn had been on the receiving end of Cat's generous nature, her sister had nothing good to say about their step mother when they talked.

"So now your sister is on her way to LA to stay with Kozik's brat!" Colleen snorted. "What do you think of that?"

"I think there's more to this than you're tellin' me," Fawn replied quietly. "And that I'm gonna talk to Daddy about this. Good bye, mother!" She turned away again and walked resolutely out the door and on to her car.

Fawn intended to drive to Stockton to see her father and get the true story. One thing she reluctantly credited about her step - mother was that she wouldn't have been able to have the club remove her sister from town without her father's knowledge or approval!

---

You're gettin' to be pretty popular, 24601," SAMCRO's guard observed as he escorted Tig to the visiting room. "What's goin' on with all these women comin' to see ya?"

"Must be my animal magnetism," Tig murmured.

"Ya better hope your old lady doesn't find out," the guard laughed. He was on the club's payroll and well aware that Tig's wife was out-of-town.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! I'm not gettin' anything from all these female visitors except frustrated!" He protested good-naturedly.

They waited for the electronic lock to disengage, then Tig stepped through the doorway, his eyes scanning the visiting room. He smiled when he saw Fawn sitting at a table waiting for him and nudged the guard in the side. "That's my daughter, you asshole!"

"Oh," the guard replied lamely. "She doesn't look a thing like you."

"I'll take that as a compliment to her," Tig growled as he moved to greet his daughter.

Fawn got up to give him a hug. She was shaking from pent - up frustration. "Hi, Daddy. We need to talk," she stated.

"What's wrong, baby?" His eyes narrowed in concern. "You're all wound up!"

"I just came from Mother's," Fawn replied dryly.

"Jeezus! Enough said!" Tig sighed sympathetically.

"Not quite. She told me about Dawn being sent out-of-town by the club at Cat's order."

'Now I know what Cat means when she said her hair hurts!' Tig's hand went to caress the bridge of his nose. "'Story' is the right word for it if ya got it from Colleen," he replied.

"Did Dawn get sent outta town by the club?"

"Yes, but I knew all about it," he assured her. He explained why the abrupt departure had occurred. "Your step - mother could've chosen to press charges against Dawnie instead of arrangin' to get her outta town."

"Instead she's on the way to LA to stay with Kendra and spend all that money? Doesn't seem right to me," Fawn mused. 'Especially since she didn't offer to share any of it with me!'

"What Dawnie did wasn't right," Tig acknowledged. "I really thought she was gettin' along with Cat."

"Dawnie's always been a good actress when she wants something, Daddy," Fawn replied.

"I'm becomin' aware of that. But I'm glad ya decided to ask me instead of blindly believin' your mother."

"Only because the club's involvement didn't jive," Fawn admitted. "I knew they wouldn't have been involved without your input."

"I didn't know about it until the deed was done," he reminded her.

"But you did know about it! Mother said you had no knowledge at all. There's a big difference."

Tig shook his head. "I guesso. How's everything with your life, baby girl?"

Fawn recognized his need to change the subject. She didn't tell him about her mother's antics at her job, just let him know her work and home life were fine. "No problems, Daddy. Everything's fine."

"Don't let this bullshit from your mother get to ya, baby girl," Tig advised. "She's just mad that I won't get back together with her. Guess Dawnie thought that was always a possibility. That's the only reason I can give about why she did this!"

"I'll admit that for a while I hoped you and Mom would get back together too, Daddy," Fawn admitted. "Then I grew up. I'm afraid Dawnie hasn't yet."

"That's where you're wrong, little girl," Tig replied in a sad tone of voice. "Dawnie just grew up in a hurry."

---

Cat slept soundly with Alex's assurances that their marriage was on solid ground ringing in her ears. She was so exhausted that the comings and goings of the Illinois riders didn't register during her sleep. She felt well rested when she awoke the next morning, though still unhappy that her step – daughter had betrayed her trust.

'There's nothin' more y'all can do about it,' she reminded herself firmly. 'Dawn's safe from the authorities and Alex seemed appreciative that I didn't press charges against her. I'm not goin' to allow myself to think on how he might've reacted if I'd chosen the opposite route. Best to leave that can of worms unopened!'

Resolutely putting Dawn's behavior and its' aftermath out of her mind, she allowed herself time to reflect on her father's health. The staph infection the doctor had diagnosed could be dangerous for Blaine due to his weakened immune system. The doctor had been very upset with her the day before for "dumping her emotional baggage" on her father. Though she'd edited the problem with her step - daughter and her father had given her good guidance, the conversation had fatigued him more than he'd let on. Cat had argued with the doctor that her father seemed to appreciate being treated and consulted as her parent, instead of being treated as a patient.

All those factors had weighed heavily on her mind and heart. She had teetered on the edge of depression until she spoke with Alex. Cat was determined not to allow herself to fall into a major depression in the light of the new day. 'The meds are goin' to help, but I've got to take care of myself, too! Alex is right about a ride bein' a good thing for me. Bitch ridin' isn't goin' to be enough of a therapy, no matter how willin' the guys might be!'

She decided to call the Harley dealership that rented bikes the following morning. She'd try to reserve a bike for the weekend and get in a good ride both days before hospital visiting hours. She smiled at the memory of her plan to surprise Alex with a rented Harley when they'd visited Indiana a few months ago. That surprise fell through because she'd left her bike insurance card in California and the rental agency wanted the original copy, not a faxed document. She was carrying it with her on this trip, but it was too early to call the store.

She heard a knock at her front door while she was having breakfast. She let her guardian answer the door, figuring that it just a change of shift. When she went out to the front porch to check in with her guardian, she was surprised to find her old riding friend 'Big Bird' sitting with BZ.

"Hey, darlin'!" 'Big Bird' stood up and enfolded her in a warm hug. "It's been awhile!"

"i'd say so!" She replied. "I can see the Goldwing brought you here," she added, gesturing out the window at the bright yellow motorcycle parked out front. "But what else brings y'all here?"

"One of your friends yesterday told me that you were feelin' a little down in the dumps and could use a visit from someone 'in the life', so here I am!" He explained, sitting down in a chair across from her on the porch and gesturing back over his shoulder at BZ, who appeared completely innocent when she glared at him.

"That's nice of them," Cat grinned. "Yesterday was a pretty rough day. A lot of family crap came up that had to be dealt with back in California."

"I'm sorry to hear that your father's sick," he stated sympathetically. "It must be serious to have you come all the way back here to be with him."

"Thanks, darlin. It is."

"Wanna go somewhere and talk?"

"Not today," she replied. "But I am plannin' on rentin' a bike at the Westside Harley dealer and goin' out this weekend. Care to join me?"

"Sure! Saturday work for ya?" Ron grinned.

"It'll have to be like a mornin' run, so I can go to hospital in the afternoon," she advised him.

"Weather's gonna be good for a mornin' ride. We can take a long ride and have a picnic before you have to go to the hospital. How's that sound?"

"Purrfect," she replied, using her best Eartha Kitt/Catwoman imitation. "I'm really glad to see y'all, and we'll play catch up on Saturday. I've gotta get to the hospital."

"I'll see ya then," Ron waved as she ran out of the apartment to her father's Chrysler. He glanced inquiringly at BZ, who was getting up to follow her. "She seems OK for someone who needed a friend yesterday."

"Trust me, she's hidin' it well. She'll appreciate bein' with ya this weekend," BZ assured him. "I've gotta go with her, but you're welcome to hang out with the fellas."

Ron followed BZ from the porch. "Don't let Cat make that call to the Harley place," he announced.

BZ stopped short and turned to stare at the blonde biker. "Care to tell me why?"

"Nothin' against Harleys, but Cat rides rice burners. Always has. I can get a loaner for her for the weekend so she's not out a lot of money," Ron explained.

"Oh, man! Ya don't know what you're askin'!" BZ moaned.

"I know. But you're a bad ass, so you oughta be able to handle a ball of fire like her!" Ron grinned merrily. "Got some things to do before the weekend, but I figure we'll be hangin' out then. Tell Cat to call me anytime she needs to."

"I will," BZ called back over his shoulder.

'Big Bird' watched the outlaw follow after the retreating Chrysler. Then he pulled out his cell phone and pressed a number on his contact list. "You available?" He asked when the party answered.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I'll tell ya when I see ya. I'm on my way. Should be there in a few minutes."

---

Tig couldn't get to sleep after the call with his wife. He wasn't happy that his daughter had treated Cat the way she had. It also upset him that she would consider their marriage at risk because she'd acted on Dawn's behavior without waiting to consult him. 'I don't understand how she could still have doubts after all the shit we've gone through!'

Bobby found him lying on his upper bunk, staring at the ceiling while ash drifted to the floor from a lit cigarette that dangled in his hand. "Ya wanna be careful not to start a fire?" Bobby growled, using his hand to sweep the ash from the floor and depositing it into the toilet.

"Yeah, whatever," Tig grunted, lifting the cigarette to his mouth and inhaling before tossing the butt towards the toilet. It fell short of the mark and landed on the concrete floor in front of his cell mate. "Wanna douse that for me?"

Bobby glared at the SAA, but picked up the offending butt, ran water over it and tossed it in the toilet. He flushed the ashes and the butt then sat down on his bunk to reomve his shoes. "You a'right?"

Tig only grunted a response.

Bobby shrugged, placed his shoes under his bunk and stretched out on the thin mattress. The lights went out a few minutes later and the silence continued between them. Two hours later, Bobby reached his limit of listening to his cell mate restlessly toss and turn. The club burly biker sat up and punched the mattress above him with both fists. "It's obvious somethin's buggin' ya, so spit it out so I can get to sleep!" He growled.

"Clay told ya about what Dawnie pulled?"

"Most of it," Bobby admitted.

Tig filled his cell mate in on the rest of the story, adding, "It's the first time she's ever doubted our relationship!"

"Hell, man! It's also the first time she's had to deal with one of your crazy daughters!" Bobby pointed out, shoving the mattress above his head with his feet. He'd planted them right where he believed Tig's butt was resting.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Watch where you're puttin' those things!" Tig protested.

"Just makin' sure you're payin' attention," Bobby grinned.

"Shit!" Tig muttered. "Look, man. I just don't get it. She's taken action without my input before. What makes this any different?"

"Listen, brother. It's one thing for Cat to take on Zobelle and that ATF bitch on her own. Dealin' with your crazy ass kid is a whole different can of worms. Ya can't blame her for worryin' about how you'd react to it."

"It just caught me off guard that she'd think I'd dump her!"

"Lemme explain somethin' to ya about step families," Bobby sighed. "When ya don't have custody and remarry, discipline of your kids can throw a real monkey wrench into the works."

"Clay didn't seem to think so," Tig remarked.

"You can't gauge your circumstances by Clay and Gem," Bobby stated. "When Precious got married again, I wasn't happy about the idea of her guy punishin' Tiki. He's my kid, and he wasn't gonna have anything to do with the punishment part if I could help it."

"Makes sense to me. I wouldn't want an outsider makin' decisions about disciplinin' my kids," Tig muttered.

"And that's why Cat was afraid of how you'd react, brother," Bobby pointed out. "She's the 'outsider' to your girls and she didn't seek your input before she acted."

"But my kids are older than Tiki!" Tig protested. He could feel his skin heat with embarrassment and he was grateful that Bobby couldn't see it in the dark.

"Yet you just reacted the same way I did about Tiki," Bobby insisted. "It's natural to feel that way, Tig. Our exes do everything they can to keep us outta our kids lives while drainin' our wallets. But we try our best to be there for them anyway."

"True dat, but Cat's a product of divorce! She should've known it's different when your kids are older!" Tig replied.

"You're tryin' to generalize again, brother," Bobby sighed. "Ya just can't use someone else's experience as a ruler to measure your own experiences. It can be a guide, but it's not somethin' ya can definitely rely on. Besides, ya said yourself Cat's folks divorced after she was over 18. Your girls were still small fry when you left Colleen."

"But to think that I'd dump her for somethin' like this after all the shit I've done includin' -!" Tig broke off, realizing he was about to mention 'the mistake'.

"She knows about Donna," Bobby observed softly.

"Yeah. I know we said we'd keep it in the chapel, but I had to come clean with her. She didn't run away," Tig admitted. He didn't mention that his wife had already found out the truth the night he'd ingested the tripping 'shrooms.

"Shit, if she didn't run away when ya first came sniffin' around, what the fuck would make her run?" Bobby grunted.

"Watch it, asshole!" Tig growled good-naturedly.

"Prolly was a good idea to come clean with her. Keepin secrets when you're supposed to have full disclosure brings nothin' but trouble."

"Ya just said a mouthful, brother!" Tig sighed. "I told her to rent one of those Harleys like she wanted to do last time we were there and go for a long ride. Seems like that always helps clear her head."

"Somehow I can't see Cat ridin' a Dyna or a Fatboy," Bobby snorted. "But you're right about the ridin' part. A good long jaunt always helps me. And the Illinois guys will make sure she's a'right."

"True dat," Tig sighed tiredly. He crossed his arms behind his head, staring up at the dark ceiling above him. He smiled at the thought of his woman piloting a Dyna similar to his, rolling through the lush green Hoosier countryside. The only thing missing from the picture as he drifted off to sleep was the presence of his own Dyna beside her.

---

Cat slipped on the plastic sheath then walked into her father's room. His eyes were closed and the bi - pap mask was over his face again. The nurse on duty had updated her on her father's condition. His oxygen saturation had gone down during the night so the doctor ordered a return to the bi - pap machine. "It's likely a temporary thing," the nurse assured her. "That additional infection has weakened his lungs. The forced air flow will send more oxygen through his system and help strengthen him."

Cat was annoyed to find the television tuned to a cable channel that her father would never choose to watch. 'Likely one of the cleaning staff or a CNA tuned it there and didn't change it back,' she thought. The channel was running an action movie with plenty of swearing, though the cruder words had been changed to something less lewd. She changed the channel to one featuring classic movies from the 30s and onward which she knew her father liked better.

The minute the audio feed changed, her father opened his eyes and smiled at her. "I hoped you'd do something about that when you came in. I couldn't change the channel." The words were slightly muffled from the forced air flow.

"Y'all couldn't reach the control!" She snorted, moving the bed control closer to his restrained hand. "That would certainly have helped. I'll make sure the staff knows which channels you prefer in the future."

"It was certainly an educational listen. I wonder what a 'mothertrucker' is," her father smiled.

"Y'all don't want to know," she replied, flushing slightly at the idea of telling her father the true meaning of that particular colorful metaphor!

"I see," her father smiled again. "You seem a little more chipper today."

"How can you tell without your glasses?" She countered.

"Your tone of voice always gives you away," he explained, his eyes twinkling with merriment. "I take it Alex understood."

"Very much. He made a suggestion to do somethin' for myself to relieve some of the stress."

"And what is that?"

"Promise y'all won't worry, otherwise I won't tell you."

His smile shone behind the mask. "I can't make that promise. You're my daughter, I always worry about you."

"I don't want your doctor givin' me unholy heck for stressin' y'all out," she admitted.

"I heard about that. The doctor was out of line, and I told him so," he informed her. "I'm your Father, and you're allowed to tell me anything you need to!"

"Don't get yourself worked up, Daddy!" She admonished.

"Then I suggest you tell me what Alex suggested you do," he countered.

"Oh, all right!" She sighed. "I'm goin' to rent a bike and go for a couple of long rides this weekend before visitin' hours. One of my old ridin' friends from here is goin' with me."

"That figures," he grinned. "You always went for rides in the country on your bicycle whenever something bothered you. Stands to reason you'd still do that with a motorcycle. I trust you'll ride carefully."

"I always do. Remember what y'all once told my cousin Geoff?

" "I told those boys a lot of things," her father remarked.

"Y'all said that the driver to watch out for was the nut one directly behind the one he was followin'," she smiled.

"Oh, that one." They both enjoyed a good laugh over the old story. It had taken Geoff a few seconds to realize who his uncle was referring to at the time. Geoff had frowned at his uncle when he realized that so - called nut was him!

"I've got to remember to tell that to Alex some time, just to see his reaction!" Cat chortled.

"He might be a little faster on the uptake," her father smiled. "You should consider taking the whole weekend instead of trying to rush around to get back here for visiting hours," he added.

"But I don't want y'all to be alone," she protested. "Honey, it's hard to be alone here with nurses and staff coming and going at all hours," he reminded her. "You had a rough day yesterday, and Alex is right that you need a little decompression time."

"I hate it when you men stick together!" She grumbled good naturedly. "All right, then. I'll make a day of it Saturday."

"No, you'll make a weekend of it. Take a long ride, maybe go fishing. You always like to fish at the side of a body of water," he insisted.

"We'll see what Sunday brings," she replied diplomatically. "If it rains, I'm not ridin' anywhere."

Her father nodded agreement, though he hoped for good weather for both days. He was aware without asking that his daughter was still unhappy by whatever her step - daughter had done to betray her trust. He wanted her to relax while there was an opportunity. "You're worried about this set back with the oxygen and I don't want you to be," he added. "I shouldn't have lost my temper with the doctor, and that caused it. I want you to take some time for yourself, baby girl."

"Well, I'll take tomorrow, 'cause I've already made the plans with my friend," she replied. "We'll see what happens Sunday. Maybe one of the Conference ministers will stop by to visit with you."

"Are they supposed to?"

"I put in a request with the Conference Office the minute I knew y'all were comin' here," she informed him. "God knows you did a lot of visitin' when you were full time, it's only fair someone reciprocates!"

"Then I'm sure they'll follow up before long," he assured her.

'Seems to me they should've already sent someone to visit,' she thought to herself. They spent the day talking about everything of mutual interest, including the Cubbies and IU Basketball. There were many times that the conversation lapsed when her father fell asleep and she'd take a walk or go to the potty.

During one of his wakeful moments, she couldn't resist showing off a picture of the vintage Challenger Alex had rebuilt for her.

"Why did he do that?" Her father asked in puzzlement. "You replaced the wrecked PT with a new one, didn't you?"

"He wanted to do something nice for me, Daddy. He found it abandoned in a tow yard and bought it because he knew how I love Mopar muscle cars. He fixed it up with the intention we'd use it as a pleasure car."

"It's purple," he observed. "And I'll bet it uses a lot of gas."

"That's why we're only goin' to use it for pleasure," She pointed out.

"I suppose it's not getting a lot of use with him overseas. Unless Dawn got into it."

"She wasn't allowed to go near it," Cat explained. "She's not on the insurance."

"That might not have stopped her," her father replied ruefully.

"The car had nothin' to do with her havin' to leave," Cat replied tersely. "She's gone, and that's all I can say about it, except that Alex accepted it."

"Whatever it was had you really worked up," her father observed. "Though you were more worried about Alex's reaction to what you decided over what Dawn did to you."

"It doesn't matter anymore, Daddy. What's done is done."

"It does matter," her father stated firmly behind the bi - pap mask. "You opened your heart and she hurt you. That hurt me. I still love her, but I hope you won't be as trusting of her the next time."

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?" Cat growled.

"Because she's Alex's daughter. You'll give her a second chance because of that. Just like your step - mother gave you another chance."

She tried to call the Harley dealership during one of her father's naps, but BZ prevented it. "Why the Hell shouldn't I call 'em?" Cat complained.

"Because your bird friend said for ya to save your money. Guess he's lookin' into gettin' a loaner ricer burner for ya instead," BZ explained.

"Ron never did have a good opinion of Harleys," she grinned reminiscently. "I hope he doesn't come around with one of those big honkin' Goldwings!"

"Why would anyone have a low opinion of Harleys?" BZ mused.

"That, my dear, is somethin' y'all will need to ask him!" She laughed before returning to her father's room. He was tired but happy when she prepared to leave at the end of visiting hours. He reminded her that she wasn't to cross the threshold of his room until Monday's visiting hours unless she was called in.

"Not that I'm going to do anything to make that happen!" He stated.

"Well, I may be back on Sunday to spend time with you anyway," Cat replied, bending down to give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek.

"Guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," he observed. "Have fun tomorrow, honey."

"I will, Daddy."

---

Ron pulled into the driveway leading to the garage that housed 'Vintage Asian Bikes'. He'd met the owner and only mechanic, Vic, through Cat and the two had formed a strong friendship. He parked his Goldwing, dismounted, and walked up to the open garage. "Hello!" He shouted.

Vic's head popped up from the side of a 1970s era Honda that he was restoring for a customer. "Hey, Ron! What's goin' on? You were kinda sketchy on the phone."

Ron sauntered into the garage and leaned against a workbench. "Got a surprise for you. Cat's back in town."

"Really?" Vic's face lit with a wide smile. "I didn't think she'd back for some time!"

"Her Dad's pretty sick and in the hospital," Ron replied, sharing what he'd learned from BZ. "The club guys and I are takin' her on a ride tomorrow to help her relieve stress," he added.

"Poor kid! That's one Hell of a load!" Vic whistled sympathetically. "Nice of those guys from the club to seek you out, though. At a time like this, a gal needs friends." He wiped his hands on a rag and walked up to Ron. "I don't see her gettin' much satisfaction from ridin' behind one of you, though."

"I thought maybe you'd know where we could get a loaner for her," Ron shrugged. "Otherwise, she'll try to rent one of those Harleys from the westside dealership."

"Oh Hell! They'll charge her a mint just for the deposit and take forever to refund it!" Vic sighed.

"No shit!" Ron grinned. "Can you help?"

"I think I have just the ticket," Vic grinned, moving to a tarp covered mound. He removed the tarp to reveal a black Yamaha Vstar.

"That's Cat's ride!" Ron exclaimed. "I thought she took it with her!"

"Nah, she asked me to sell it for her when she left. No one's wanted to pay what she's askin', and I won't take less, so it's still here."

"She's goin' to love ridin' that!"

"It'll do a lot to relieve her stress, and she won't have to worry about keepin' from gettin' it damaged!" Vic observed.

They made arrangements for Vic to bring the bike to the apartment after visiting hours ended at the hospital. "I'll be there, too. Can't wait to see her reaction," Ron grinned.

---

Kendra crept silently past the sofa where her childhood friend was sleeping soundly. They hadn't stayed up very long when they got to her apartment after dinner. They had agreed that Dawn would accompany her to her job to meet with the powers that be and start her own career in what Kendra called the 'erotic entertainment' business.

Kendra started the coffee and put bread slices in her toaster. She glanced across the counter at the girl sleeping on the couch and shook her head. After a full night's sleep, she still couldn't find a way to justify Dawn's theft from her step – mother. The only thing she had managed to do was convince herself to drop it.

"It comes down to this, Kendra," Dawn explained after the waitress took their order at the restaurant. "I took the money to start my life over. I can't do that in Sanwa County! You know what it's like there!"

"True dat, but it still doesn't justify what ya did to her!" Kendra protested.

Dawn shrugged. "She claimed she cares about my happiness. You call it theft, I consider it an involuntary investment in my future. What do you say we talk about somethin' else and agree to disagree on this subject?"

The waitress brought their salads and drinks, then the two women began catching up with each other. "You seem to be doin' well for yourself," Dawn observed.

"What do you mean?"

"You've got a car, a place nice apartment," Dawn explained, waving her hand around the area. "You must be workin' in show business. That's what I wanna do."

"You and every sweet butt that comes into town on the bus," Kendra muttered darkly.

"It's what I've wanted for a long time, Ken," Dawn replied. "Remember?"

"Sure! I can't count the number of skits and shows we did for the club when we were little," Kendra recalled, smiling slightly at her friend's use of her old nickname.

"So what do you do for a living?"

"Erotic films," Kendra replied simply.

"You're a porn star?" Dawn giggled.

"You sound surprised," Kendra frowned.

"A little. I figured you'd go for the more legitimate type of entertainment."

Kendra waited until the waitress set their main courses in front of them. She pushed her plate to one side and leaned on the table so that she could speak without their neighbors overhearing. "Lemme tell ya somethin', Dawnie. To make it in the legitimate arts, you gotta have more than a pretty face and some talent."

"I know that!" Dawn sniffed.

"Not just head shots and an agent. You gotta go on auditions, and tons of people will be at those same auditions. Sometimes you don't get to audition at all because you're not the right height, or weight, or your hair's not the right color or length."

"So?"

So after a few months of that bullshit, I got tired of being rejected without a try. There was this ad, and I answered it, and that's what led me to become a porn star," Kendra explained.

A few minutes of silence passed between them. Both women pushed their food around on their plates. "Is it bad?" Dawn asked softly.

"The pay's good, obviously. And the job's really not that bad," Kendra admitted reluctantly. "Some of the actors can be genuine assholes. Especially the ones with overinflated egos. But I won't lie to you, some of the male talent can be kinda mean."

"How so?"

"Pinching and biting where the camera can't pick up; slamming hard into you because he can't make the 'money shot' on demand. On occasion you get a fucktard producer or director who treats you like a piece of meat instead of a person. It's not always a bed of roses."

"Sounds like it beats walkin' the streets and turnin' over the majority of your take to some pimp," Dawn mused.

"True dat," Kendra grinned reluctantly. "If you're really sure this is what ya wanna do, you can come to the studio with me tomorrow. I'll introduce you to the owner. You're on your own from there."

Dawn started to reply, but Kendra held up her hand to stop her. "Don't answer now. Sleep on it and tell me in the morning."

The smell of brewing coffee drifted through the apartment, rousing Dawn from her sleep. She sat up, looking somewhat surprised by her surroundings before she remembered that she'd had to leave Charming and her father's house. 'Oh, yeah! This is Kendra's pad!' She got off the couch and folded up the bedclothes, laying them in a pile on the sofa until Kendra told her where to store them, then she sauntered into the kitchen. "Mornin'."

"Back atcha," Kenra replied. "Sleep a'right?"

"Yeah. thanks. Coffee about ready?" Dawn replied.

"It's done," Kendra replied, turning to a cabinet to take down a pair of cups. "How do you take yours?"

"Black." She waited until Kendra poured the liquid into the cups, accepting hers with a nod and taking a sip. "Not bad. Regular store bought, I take it?"

"Yeah. Prolly a come down after the fancy stuff your step - mom makes," Kendra shrugged.

"Not really. Coffee's the same as far as I'm concerned, no matter how pimped up it is," Dawn snorted.

"I thought we might go out after breakfast, let you see the area before we go to the studio. We can pick up a paper so you can see what the apartment situation is. That is, if you still wanna talk to the studio owner," kendra stated.

"It's what I came here to do," Dawn replied flatly.

"Then we've got a plan," Kendra announced. "I'll shower first, let you get some breakfast. Help yourself to what you want." Kendra headed for her bedroom, stopping to pick up the folded bedclothes to store in her room.

---

After Cat left that night, Blaine Marshall didn't sleep. Though they'd talked about a lot of things during her visit, they hadn't fully discussed his number one concern. Cat was purposefully not telling him everything about her life in California, including the drama that had occurred with her step – daughter.

'I can't force her to confide in me, nor do I want to crush her spirit by telling her I know the truth about the man she married,' he observed to himself. 'All I can do is give her as much emotional and spiritual support as possible.'

He'd known the true nature of Cat's new lifestyle for months. His nephew Alan, who worked in law enforcement, had run a background check on Alex out of curiosity. What he'd found had concerned him enough to alert his uncle a few weeks after the ceremony when his nephew, Alan, called with the news.

"Cat's not bein' completely honest with y'all about her husband, Uncle Blaine," Alan announced.

"That's nothing new," Blaine sighed. His daughter had a habit of 'editing' information she shared with him. He couldn't say she outright lied to him, but she was adept at giving him only what she felt he needed to know, especially if she thought it would cause him to be too concerned about her welfare. "I assume you ran a background check on Alex."

"I sure did!" Alan confirmed. "And what I found is pretty alarmin'."

"You might as well fill me in," he replied.

"Are y'all sure you want to hear this? It's not very pleasant." Alan inquired.

"I need to hear it, Son. Besides, it can't be any worse than some of her previous associates."

"That's up to you to decide," Alan stated "Alex has a criminal record, and has ties to an outlaw motorcycle club in Charming."

"She's always had a thing for bad boys," Blaine remarked. "As well as motorcycle riders. What else did you learn?"

"Well, she did tell the truth about his employment. The report indicated he works as a mechanic at Teller - Morrow Garage and he served in the Marines, honorably discharged. I suspect that his main income comes from whatever crimes the club performs. He's served time in jail on a felony."

"You're right, it isn't very pleasant information. It definitely sounds like he chose a violent path in Life," Blaine observed.

"I'm afraid she's goin' to end up like she did with that 'Brownie' creep, Unclo Blaine. Now I wish I'd run the check before you married 'em!" Alan retorted.

"It wouldn't have made a difference; they were already married. The service I did was a reaffirmation of their vows."

"Oh, yeah," Alan sighed. "He really had us all fooled."

"Then why did you run the background check?" His uncle inquired.

"Because of Cat's past history with guys. First 'Brownie', then that drunk guy in Indy. I wanted to make sure she was goin' to be safe," Alan admitted.

"Did you run a background check on Bill?"

"Yeah. He was clean as a whistle!" Alan laughed. He sobered quickly to add, "Thing is, Alex didn't give off any kind of weird vibe when they were here."

"Cat probably had him on his best behavior," Blaine chuckled. "He definitely didn't behave like a hooligan. At least now I know why she referred to his extra income as being a part - time entrepreneur!"

"I guess that's one adjective for what outlaw bikers do these days," Alan lamented. "Something you show know about 'em, they do have a strong regard for family, though they often put the club family before any other," Alan explained.

Blaine shook his head, sadly realizing that his daughter had chosen another man whose very lifestyle interfered with a normal family life, much as the needs of the Church and Conference had done during her childhood. Her marriage to Bill had been filled with last minute work requirements that kept him from attending a special event or family gathering.

Blaine had often had to juggle the church calendar in order to be present for her piano and chorus recitals, school plays, and other important events, including her graduation. He had misssed out on her athletic endavors in volleyball and basketball.

"I always regretted never attending any of your games," he informed her many years later. "I should've at least attended one of the sectional or regional games!"

'Hah! Y'all would've watched me playin' the bench' than bein' on the floor, Daddy!" She laughed. "Believe me, y'all didn't miss much. You made the more important things, that's what matters."

Blaine always believed his daughter had used him the yardstick by which she measured all other Methodist ministers in her life. It turned out she'd used that same measurement tool to size up the most of the men in her life.

Unaware of his uncle's self recrimination, Alan broke into Blaine's reverie by inquiring, "I don't get it, why would someone with a reputation like Alex's want to hook up with Cat?"

"He might've been drawn to her because she's his exact opposite," Blaine observed.

"The old opposites attract thing?"

"I believe so, Son. Eventually a person caught up in a violent lifestyle wants something good in their lives, and are drawn to it like a moth to a flame."

"You're not afraid that he's goin' to turn out like that 'Bronwie' creep?" His nephew inquired worriedly. "And is just after her for money?"

"Not at all."

"Why not?"

"Alex behaved like a complete gentleman. Besides, you saw for yourself that he's devoted to her. 'Brownie' never gave me that impression."

"Guess she wouldn't have married him if she felt she was in any danger," Alan remarked.

"I give her that much credit. Glad to see you are too."

"I remember meetin' that creep she was with in Terre Haute. I didn't like him on sight." Alan recalled. "None of the family could stand him. Thank God she had the sense not to marry him!"

"Amen to that. He's turned out to be a problem ever since he tried to kill her," Blaine remarked.

"I'm glad you followed my advice and took out the restraining order on him," Alan sighed. "I feel better knowin' you're protected."

"I appreciate your concern about Cat's welfare, but don't understand why you're suddenly so cautious about Alex. Especially after the way you two got on well at the ceremony," Blaine pointed out.

"He was knowledgeable about mechanics in general, and seemed friendly enough. I've got to admit that if I hadn't pulled the record, I never would've thought he was a criminal. So now that you know, what do you intend to do?"

"Nothing, son."

The answer startled Alan. That was the one response he hadn't expected. "Wanna run that by me again?"

"I'm not going to do anything about it unless there's a reason, and you're not to say anything to the rest of the family. Cat seems content, the guy cares about her. That's all that's important."

"B - but -!" Alan began to protest, sputtering like a motorboat running out of gas.

"No 'buts' about it, son. Cat's made a few unwise choices in her life, but we're all guilty of that. Alex deserves a chance to prove himself unworthy as much as anyone else in this family. Until he proves otherwise, he's worthy of our trust."

"If that's the way you want to handle it," Alan replied doubtfully.

"It is. But I appreciate the heads up."

Following that conversation, Blaine contacted his lawyer to make an amendment to his will, something he'd intended to do after Bill had died, but hadn't gotten around to doing. Now he felt he had no choice but to make an important change to protect his daughter's future.

While he was on the phone with the lawyer, Blaine dictated a letter to Alex to be delivered upon his death. He would leave it to the lawyer to figure out how to find Cat's legal advisor in Charming and get the letter to that person, who in turn would be charged with delivering it to his son-in-law.

'I've done what I can to make sure her interests are protected after I'm gone. She's resilient, always has been. She'll be OK. I hope and pray she never has reason to turn to the criminal life herself,' Blaine observed. 'Dear Lord, loving the sinner and hating the sin can be very hard when it's happening right within your family. I pray I've made the right decision!'

He turned his head towards the door, sensing a presence in the room. At first he thought it might be one of the medical staff checking on him. Then he realized that the person standing in the doorway wore a suit and tie and was carrying a well – used Bible.

---

When Cat returned to the apartment building that night, she found Big Bird and another man waiting for her in the back parking lot. They were standing in front of a travel trailer. The combined Illinois charter riders were standing with them, so that all she could see of the contents was a tarp covered shape. She instantly recognized the other man as Vic, her mobile motorcycle mechanic who had kept her0 original bike in tip top shape before she ;left it in his care to sell when she moved to California.

"So what's goin' on?" She asked as she walked up to the men, giving Vic a quick 'hello' hug.

"Ron told me you were back in town and why," Vic replied while returning the hug. "Your father will be in my prayers."

"Thanks, darlin'. Now just what are all y'all tryin' to hide? I can see the back end of the trailer, so you're not makin' very good doors," she grinned.

The men gazed at each other in confusion at her comment.

"Oh for -! Didn't any of your parents ever say that you made a better door than a window when you sat in front of the TV and blocked their view?"

Ron, Vic, and BZ grinned and nodded their heads. The other riders and Cavey just shrugged and muttered denials.

"Well, y'all can now disperse so I can see what's on the trailer!" She snorted, making a waving motion with her hand. The men parted like the Red Sea parting at Moses' command to reveal the tarp covered mound. Vic removed it with a flourish to reveal a shining black motorcycle. It wasn't just any black bike, it was her 2000 Yamaha VStar, Blackie.

"I can't believe it! Didn't you advertise him?"

"I did, but no one was willing to come close to your asking price," Vic explained. "I wasn't going to sell him for anything less. Been thinking about keeping him for my own use."

"We can discuss that while I'm here," Cat grinned, running a loving hand over the bike's seat.

"Let me unload him so you two can get reacquainted," Vic smiled, leaping onto the trailer. In a matter of minutes he had the tie downs removed and the bike unloaded onto the pavement.

Cat walked around the bike, performing a visual inspection of her old friend. The bike looked the same as the day Vic had taken it from the home she'd shared with Bill.

"I changed the oil and did some other routine maintenance. The tank is full, and the registration is still good," Vic informed her, passing the registration form to her. "You'll want to keep that in your wallet, just in case."

"I intend to," she replied, withdrawing her wallet from her back pocket and stuffing the folded white form inside. "Just hope the police don't get their drawers in a wad because my addresses don't match!"

"Don't do anything to get their attention and it shouldn't be a problem," Ron remarked.

"Yeah, real helpful there, pal!" She snorted. "So, anyone up for a ride to the 'Sugar Shed'?"

"Wait a minute!" BZ protested. "Didn't ya bring a brain bucket for her?"

"I don't need one in Indiana," she snorted. "It's not required, and I want the wind in my hair!" She mounted the bike and reached down to turn on the ignition.

"But Cat! Tig will have a fit if he finds out!" Cavey reminded her.

"What Tig doesn't know doesn't have to bother him!" She replied, turning the key in the ignition then pressing the start switch.

Any other protests from the riders were drowned out by the roar of the Yamaha's engine. She twisted the throttle to make the engine roar, partly to make it harder for them to protest her lack of helmet. Mostly just to hear the engine's power.

The men gazed at each other and shrugged. They wordlessly agreed there was no reason to try to persuade her to wear a helmet on that night's trip and scrambled to their own bikes.

Cat turned off the engine and smirked in satisfaction. "He sounds great, Vic. Wanna come with us?"

"I'll follow you there," he smiled. "I've got another job waiting on me. Is it OK if I join your ride tomorrow?"

"Sure," Cat replied. "We'll meet at the 'Sugar Shed' tomorrow, is 11AM OK for all y'all?"

Assorted noises of agreement came from all the men. "We'll see y'all then, Vic. I can't wait to see what you'll ride!" She lifted her hand in the air and pumped her fist. "Let's ride!" She cried, pressing the start button.

The Yamaha's 750CC engine roared to life. She twisted the throttle again, grinned, and put the bike in gear. One Goldwing and the Harleys met the Yamaha's challenge as the bikes fell into formation behind her. Cat couldn't help grinning with joy as she led the riders to the bar. Having the wind in her hair, the sun in her face, and piloting the bike she still technically owned was exactly the tonic she needed.

The group pulled into the parking lot for the 'Sugar Shed', parking in a small group. Vic had followed them in his truck so he'd know where to meet the next day, and honked his horn in farewell. The riders all waved at him and dismounted from their bikes. Just as Cat got off her bike, the distinctive ring tone for Alex issued from Cat's iPhone.

"All y'all go ahead, someone order me a Coke Zero, and I'll be with y'all shortly," she informed them while she pulled her cell phone from her pocket.

Ron gazed questioningly at the other riders when he heard the ring tone. "Who did she assign to that?"

"The mother SAA who 'appens to be 'er 'usband," Cavey grinned. "'E's doin' time in California on a federal weapons charge, along with the rest of the mother officers."

Ron shook his head as he walked to the outdoor patio. 'I forgot that the woman has a wicked sense of humor! That's definitely one way to know her old man's calling! I wonder if she used the 'Sesame Street' theme for me!' He ordered a Coke for himself and Cat's Coke Zero, then mused to himself, 'Maybe I'd rather not know!'

Thanks to the recently passed anti - smoking laws in the city, bar patrons had to go outside to indulge. Many of the bikers chose to stay outside during good weather such as they were enjoying that evening. The music from the jukebox inside was piped out to them. Friendly waitresses would pass in and out the door to take orders and deliver drinks and/or food to the outdoor patrons.

---

Brownie' was more than pleased when he met the girl belonging to the voice he'd arranged the ride to Indianapolis with. She was waiting at the spot they'd agreed on at the appointed time, right outside the student union entrance in front of the parking lot. She wore low rider blue jeans and a halter top that left her midriff exposed and gave him a good look at her best assets. The girl, who introduced herself as Diane, had all the things he preferred in a woman besides a good rack. She had curves in all the right places and not an ounce of extra weight on her. More importantly, it looked ot him like she had access to money, if her designer duds and purse were any indication.

"C'mon, my car's parked a couple of rows away where it won't get hit," she spoke invitingly. He followed behind her, enjoying the way her ass jiggled just right as she led the way to her car. His belief about her ties to money were confirmed when her 'two door car' turned out to be a new Maserati Granturismo.

"When you said you drove a two door, I pictured something different than this!" He exclaimed, gazing in admiration at the car.

"It is a two door," Diane shrugged, as if she were talking about a standard Ford or Chevy sedan. "You don't sound too disappointed."

"I'm not. But why sell rides to Indy in a car like this?" He asked, stowing his back pack in the trunk. An expensive leather suitcase was already inside. .

"So I can meet and get to know real people," she shrugged, closing the trunk and sliding behind the steering wheel. "I hate all the snobbish assholes my folks want me to hang with. I want to get to know real, down to earth people like you."

"Poor folks you mean," he observed wryly as he climbed into the passenger seat. He couldn't help but run his fingers along the wood grain to make sure it was real. The seats were made of rich, luxurious leather. 'Nothin' Corinthian about these leather seats!' He thought, thinking back to the late Ricardo Mantalban's pitch about the Chrysler Cordoba.

"No offense meant," Diane pouted.

"None taken. At least with us 'poor people', you know what to expect out of us," he replied. "Aren't you afraid you might meet the 'wrong' kind of poor person?"

"I thrive on it!" She grinned, keying the ignition and putting the car in gear. "

"Don't you worry about someone hurting you?" He pressed.

"Physically? I'd like to see 'em try!" She scoffed.

'Brownie' filed that tidbit of information away in his mind. He was already liking the package, and he had a feeling the girl had a slanted attitude about people in general, never letting them get too close to her emotionally. 'Which is perfect for me!'

"As for people here on campus, most of 'em just wanna talk about the next party they're going to or which frat or sowhority to pledge. I can't stand that kind of shit!" She added scathingly.

"So what do you do when you're not in class?" He asked.

"Make my own friends and hire myself out as a cabbie to Indy. It's a lot more exciting than anything else the campus has to offer. I've met a lot of interestin' people this way," she explained. "Some of 'em I socialize with."

A brief silence settled between them as she piloted the sports car through the heavy traffic on the main drag. A large number of cars were heading out of town, some to Evansville, but most were heading East towards the newly opened extension of Interstate 69.

"Aren't you taking US 50?" 'Brownie' inquired when Diane merged onto US 41. The last thing he wanted to do was get near Terre Haute.

"Nah. Don't like it. I'm just taking this to State Road 67. I like it up to Indy; lots of things to see along the way," she explained. She set the cruise control and settled back in her seat, glancing at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the front. "So what program are you studying?"

The question caught him momentarily off guard. He recovered quickly and replied suavely, "General studies for now. I haven't really decided on a major yet."

"Aren't you a little old to be undeclared?" She frowned.

"Military service, my dear," he inclined his head as a slight bow. "Had to save money for college. Using the GI bill to pay my way."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really? What branch?"

"Air Force," he lied smoothly.

Her eyes lit up in excitement. "Hold on, darlin', don't get too excited!" He admonished. "I was in a support unit, ferryin' supplies. I didn't get in the air."

"Still, you served. Did you go to Afghanistan or anyplace like that?"

'Brownie' could see that Diane was highly interested in his so-called military service, but he knew he had to be careful not to say anything that she could try to trace. "No, I wasn't so lucky," he replied gloomily, acting disappointed about the direction his tour of duty had taken. "My time was spent away from the action in Turkey."

Diane laid a comforting hand on his thigh. "Still, you took time out of your life to serve. Not a lot of people willingly do that."

'Brownie' looked down at the hand resting on his thigh, then gazed at Diane and smiled before covering her hand with his own. "It's nice to be appreciated whether they send you to where the action is or you're providing support," he replied.

"Support is just as important," she remarked. "Without support, the troops doing the fighting won't get very far, will they?"

"That's true," he smiled, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. 'She's so easy to take in. This is gonna be a pleasurable weekend in more ways than one!'

They spent the remainder of the drive getting to know each other better. Diane was studying in modern foreign languages. "I'd like to work in an embassy somewhere as a translator, you know, get out and see the world and new people."

"That sounds admirable," he remarked. "How many languages are you studying?"

"I learned Spanish in high school, so now I'm trying French and German. Did you learn any Turkish?"

"No, dear. Except to ask where the bathroom was located," he joked, inwardly hoping she wouldn't ask him the word, as he had no idea what it was. The moment passed without her asking and he relaxed.

They passed through Mooresville with it's many shopping centers and restaurants as the sun began to set. Before reaching the freeway that ran around Indianapolis, Diane inquired, "Do you have a place to stay when you're not visiting your friend?"

"Not yet, I was going to check out the 'Y'," he replied. 'Here it is, the make it or break it moment!'

She glanced slyly out of the corner of her eye at him. "My parents are away. Would you like to stay with me?"

"That depends on how far you live from the hospital," he replied smoothly. He didn't want to show his hand too early, but he definitely wanted a piece of that ass she'd wiggled in his face.

"My parents have a condo downtown," she assured him. "You can easily get a bus if your friend is at Methodist or the VA hospital. If it's in the suburbs, I could drive you there before the convention."

"But you hardly know me," he protested. The protest, of course, was a pretense intended to keep her off guard. Given the choice between some hole in the wall place to crash and a luxurious condo complete with pussy, he'd take the second choice any day.

"I know all I need to know," she purred, laying her hand on his thigh. This time, her hand rested a bit closer to his crotch. They were stopped at a red light just before the entrance to the freeway. "I know you're interested. So am I. We'll have the whole condo to ourselves. The decision's up to you."

"Forget about the 'Y'!" He murmured huskily. "Let's go to your place."

---

"Hey love!" Cat stated happily. She sat sideways on the original 'Blackie's' seat with her legs stretched out. The music from the outdoor speakers of the biker bar was audible, but didn't prevent her from being able to hear him clearly.

"Hey back!" He exclaimed. He frowned slightly over the background noise. He could hear the music and voices in the background. "You havin' a party?"

"No, love. The guys, my old ridin' buddy 'Big Bird', and I are hangin' out at a biker friendly bar this evenin'. We just got here,"she explained.

Alex's frown deepened at the idea of his wife bitch riding behind any other man but him. He doubted she'd had time to get to the dealership for the rental before it closed. 'I was unhappy enough about it when she returned the rental car, but this is worse!' He made a huffing noise into the phone and added, "I'm not sure I like the idea of ya bein' with all those men on your own! And who is this 'Bird Brain' fella?"

"Oh, love! Y'all don't needs to let the green - eyed monster loose!" She laughed. The sound was music to his ears. "Besides, I didn't bitch ride tonight."

"Ya already rented a Harley for the weekend?" The relief in his voice was enough to make her smile widen. 'Maybe they're open late!'

"Not exactly, love. To answer your other question, 'Big Bird' is a friend. Bill trusted me with him, so there's nothin' for y'all to worry about."

"Oh," Alex grunted. She rarely compared him to her deceased husband so it wasn't difficult for him to recognize the gentle admonishment lurking in her reply. He couldn't help feeling possessive of her given the distance between them and her professed fear the day before about their relationship. "Copy that, baby. So ya drove?"

"No, I rode," she laughed. "Big Bird called my former mechanic, who was supposed to sell the original 'Blackie'. No one bought him, so I'm usin' him this weekend."

"Sounds good, saves ya some money," he grinned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Somehow, I can't picture ya ridin' a Dyna anyway."

"Oh, really?" She drawled playfully. "And why is that?"

'Looks like that call's goin' to go on for a bit,' Ron thought, picking up her glass and bringing it to her. "Say 'hi' to your old man for me, hon. Tell 'im not to worry about you," he murmured loud enough for Alex to hear.

"Thanks, darlin', I was beginnin' to feel a little parched," she grinned, lifting her glass in salute. "Don't worry, love, it's just plain ol' Coke Zero."

"I wasn't worried about what you're drinkin'," he replied. "Was that your 'bird' pal?"

"Yes, it was."

"Tell him thanks for me, will ya?"

"I fully intend to, love. I'm still sittin' on the bike, by the way. He brought my drink over. If I were sittin' with the guys, y'all would never be able to hear me!" She laughed.

Alex basked in the knowledge that his wife was relaxing and having a good time, even though she was on her own with a bunch of other men, one of which wasn't a brother. "Guess you're gonna take that long ride tomorrow before visitin' your dad?"

"No, I'm goin' for a good, long ride tomorrow, period," she replied. "Daddy's orders. He doesn't want to see me at all tomorrow."

"I knew there was a reason to like the man!" Alex observed.

"So bein' my father isn't enough of a reason?" She chuckled.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! You know better, woman!" He growled.

The easy banter between them didn't feel strained or forced. It felt good to Cat to joke with him and hear the rumble of his laugh or his frustrated groans over her jokes. "Just testin' y'all, love."

"You sound a little more cheerful, baby."

"Ridin' always makes me happy," she assured him.

"I know. Aren't ya glad I suggested it?" He gloated.

"Yes, love. Very glad," she replied sincerely.

He considered telling her about Fawn's visit, but decided against it. 'It'll only add to her stress, and she's had enough of that, even though Fawnie seemed to be in Cat's corner. I'm afraid my girl's gonna be a little leery of both of my girls for awhile.'

"Everything OK on your end, love?" She inquired a bit nervously to break the silence.

"Everything's fine, baby," he hastened to assure her. "Was just debatin' whether you'd wanna know that Dawnie reached LA safely last night."

"That's good," Cat replied guardedly. "That must've been a relief for you."

Alex winced at the guarded tone in her voice, but plunged ahead. "Kozik delivered the news. Said Kendra's offered to let Dawn stay there for a week to get settled."

"Oh - kay," Cat stated noncommittally.

"Here's the best part, baby. Kendra's chargin' her rent!"

"Good for Kendra," Cat muttered dryly. "The girl's a lot smarter than I am!"

"I'm sure it'll give Dawnie incentive to get her own place!" Alex remarked. He flinched from the lack of joy in her voice that had been present before he brought up his daughter. Fearing that she still might be harboring doubts about their marriage, he asked, "Are ya really OK about what happened yesterday?"

"I may never be OK with Dawn stealin' from me, love!" She snorted.

"I don't expect ya to be," Alex assured her. "I just wanna make sure you're still not worried about us."

Cat frowned and took a sip of her drink. She didn't like the direction the conversation was taking. "I thought we ironed this out last night, love. Why are y'all bringin' this up again?"

"To be honest, it really floored me that ya thought we'd be quits because of this shit, baby! You've never had doubts about us, no matter how much shit we slogged through," he admitted softly.

"I never had to deal with somethin' like this before, love," she reminded him.

"True dat," He slammed his hand against the wall beside the payphone loud enough that she could hear it on her end. "It really upsets me that ya opened your heart to her and she tore it to pieces!"

Cat felt a flush of pleasure at his admission, but she still felt there was no need to rehash the matter. "It's not your fault, love. Y'all didn't have much to do with raisin' her, and I really don't want to go over that ground again."

"What I don't get is why you never considered filin' charges," Alex persisted. "Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but most people wouldn't have thought twice about doin' it."

'I really didn't have much choice,' she thought wryly. "Y'all forget, I'm not like most people," she replied.

The acid in her tone wasn't lost on him. "And ya think you didn't have any other choice," he added. "I know ya feel that way and you're wrong!"

"C'mon now, love!" She scoffed in exasperation. "Do y'all really expect me to believe you would've been happy if Dawn was sittin' in SJCCF right now by my request?"

'She knows me too damn well!' He rubbed his chin reflectively. "OK, maybe not right away," he admitted. "But I would've eventually come around to agreein' with ya."

"Yeah, like when we had that argument about Kip?" She drawled. "I told y'all I didn't want to rehash this, but if you're goin' to insist on it, you're goin' to get both barrels, lover!"

"Ya obviously haven't forgotten that asshole move of mine," he sighed. It was the only fight they'd ever had as a couple. It occurred while he was recovering from his leg injury after Bobby's Fatboy ran him off the road. He'd spoken roughly to Half – Sack in front of her employees and Cat had called him on it. He'd told her off for questioning his authority in public and stormed out, intending to limp around the block to give them both a cooling off period. Cat took off on her bike in a huff. He followed after her in the Cruiser, only to find she'd gone off with Gemma and Piney had given him a few pointers in dealing with the fight. They discussed the matter on her return and came to a mutual understanding. "Was that what made ya so worried?" He inquired.

"Partly," she admitted. "I've watched enough court television shows to know that step - parents have limited punishment rights - if any," she admitted.

"Hell, woman! If I didn't leave ya after that fight, and you didn't leave me when ya found out about Donna, why the fuck would ya think I'd dump ya over my daughter?" He cried.

"Because Dawn is your daughter," she explained simply. "People don't like an 'outsider' - which is what the girls consider me - makin' decisions about punishment for their children. Hell, schools aren't even allowed to paddle anymore in spite of being in charge of kids several hours a day."

"Shit," he exhaled. "Bobby was right."

"So that's why my ears were burnin' last night!" She laughed. "All y'all were talkin' about me behind my back!"

"Well, ya weren't here to be talked about in front of your back!" Alex retorted, relieved that she was back to bantering with him.

"Y'all have a point there, and before you make some kind of sexual comment or we both get all maudlin and reopen old wounds best left alone, why don't we just consider this incident behind us and not talk about it anymore."

"I won't argue with ya on that point!" Alex replied amiably.

"Holy shit! I think Hell done froze over again!" She remarked.

"Watch it, woman!"

"I'm so scared!" She gushed. "Tomorrow's bringin' good weather. The Illinois boys, Big Bird, my mechanic, and I are goin' on a nice, long ride and have a picnic somewhere. I promise to be careful, love. There's not much I can get into when it's eight against one!"

"I like those odds, as long as those men don't become octopussies!"

"Trust y'all to get a sexual innuendo worked into the conversation after all!" She laughed. "Better hope the Illinois boys don't find out y'all called 'em pussies!"

"I didn't call 'em pussies! I called 'em octopussies!" He protested.

"A pussy is a pussy, whether eight - armed or four footed with fur," she retorted. "Guess that gives me a wee bit of leverage over y'all!"

"You are so gonna pay for that woman!" He growled.

"I should hope so, stud! Be good now!"

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Wait a minute! I wanted to ask if -" The dial tone buzzed in his ear before he could ask if she had a helmet to wear. "Shit! She's just too fuckin' quick with that 'end call' button! The Illinois boys had better keep an eye on her and keep her safe!'

---

Diane expertly piloted the GranTurismo through downtown Indianapolis to the canal district, coming to a stop in front of a gated parking garage. She touched a button on the instrument panel and the gate began to rise.

'Brownie' gazed in wonder at the size and newness of the building. The canal area had been vacant except for a few businesses the last time he'd been there. Now it was a thriving high end residential and retail district serving both the downtown and IUPUI campus. "Your family lives in this building?" He whistled.

"Honey, we own the building!" Diane laughed, sliding the luxury roadster into a reserved parking space next to an elevator. "We live in the top floor penthouse. This elevator is for our private use."

"Nice," he remarked, opening his door and going around to the trunk to retrieve his backpack. 'No wonder they can afford such a swanky car like this for her!"

Diane removed her small suitcase and closed the trunk, using the remote to lock the Maserati. She inserted a key into the elevator lock to activate it. The door opened soundlessly, revealing a wood paneled and lushly carpeted interior illuminated by a bright overhead light.

"Step into my parlor," she cooed invitingly.

'Brownie' complied and she followed right behind him. The elevator doors closed and whisked them straight to the penthouse, opening onto a lushly appointed entry with a shining marble floor and large bay windows allowing the natural light inside. A tall man of undeterminable age wearing black pants, white coat, and a bow tie met them at the elevator door.

"Good evening, Miss. You are here for the convention I trust?"

"Yes, James," she replied, handing her suitcase over to him. "This is my friend, He'll be staying with us for the weekend."

'Brownie' was inwardly elated that she didn't identify him by name. James seemed used to Diane bringing home 'friends' when her parents were away, as he merely nodded and replied, "Very good, Miss. Shall I put his 'bag' in your room?"

"Of course!" She laughed.

"Yes, Miss. Dinner is ready in the dining room," he replied, nodding slightly at them both before taking the bags away.

"Dinner?" 'Brownie' inquired.

"Yeah, I alerted James to make dinner for two after we talked, just in case you wanted to stay here," she grinned, leading him to the opulent dining room.

"You seemed awfully sure of yourself. What if I had changed my mind?" He laughed.

"Then I'd have been eating a lot of leftovers this weekend!" She retorted.

The long, gleaming mahogany table was set for two, one place setting at the head of the table, and another full setting to one side of the head place setting. Silver plated covers were keeping the contents of each plate warm. Gleaming sterling silver utensils and crystal goblets completed the setting, with linen napkins folded in an intricate design resting on the plates.

"Wow!"

"Yeah, he earns his pay," Diane shrugged, pulling out her chair. 'Brownie' held it for her and pushed it in after she sat down, then settled in the seat next to hers.

A sliver bucket filled with ice and an already uncorked bottle rested on a stand next to Diane's chair on the opposite side from her companion's setting. "Do you drink wine?" She asked, pouring an ample serving into one of the goblets.

"I prefer beer," 'Brownie' grinned.

"Not a problem. Do you have a preference?"

"Japanese rice beer, if you have it, otherwise whatever's available. I'm sure it'll be good."

Diane rang a small silver bell. Seconds later, James appeared at her side. "Yes, Miss?"

"A bottle of our best beer for my friend, please."

"Yes, Miss." James disappeared and quickly returned with a brown bottle of beer. James held it out for 'Brownie's' approval. He nodded and started to reach out for the bottle, but James picked up the goblet and poured for him, allowing a creamy head to form at the top of the liquid. Once full, James set the goblet in front of 'Brownie's' plate and the bottle next to it.

"That will be all, James," Diane stated cordially.

"Yes, Miss," he sniffed, turning on his heel and disappearing as silently as he'd arrived.

"I don't think your 'Man Friday' approves of me," he remarked, taking a sip of the cool beverage. It was malty and crisp and traveled smoothly down his throat. The label indicated that the beverage was a high end brand that he would never purchase for himself due to the cost.

"He never approves of any friends I bring home," Diane admitted. "But he won't say anything about it to my parents. He values his job too much.'

'Brownie' nodded understanding and turned his attention to his meal. 'So she's one of those privileged princesses who might like to befriend the poor, but still treats us like dirt!' He observed angrily to himself while keeping his features calm and friendly. 'I'm gonna enjoy takin' this one to the cleaners! These asshats probably have so much shit they'll never miss the stuff I take!'

They ate in a companionable silence, occasionally talking about mundane matters. Diane didn't ask for a lot of personal information, and he didn't volunteer any. When she did ask a more deeply personal question, he had a lie ready to give her. After she'd commented about his age, he'd used the quiet time during the trip to come up with a plausible backstory to satisfy her feminine curiosity. His answers seemed to please her, as she continued to touch him in an intimate manner under the table throughout dinner.

After they ate, Diane took him on a tour of the house, unwittingly displaying their vast treasure trove of trinkets to the unrepentant thief. 'Brownie' made a mental list of the items he could easily pocket and where he'd be able to find them again. He could sell them later at a pawn shop.

"Remember the parking garage?" She inquired as she led him around the penthouse. It took up the entire top floor of the building, as large as a football stadium in his estimation. There was even a swimming pool built into the roof patio.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"There's a Cadillac Escalade in there that you can use while you're in town," she replied. "It's also mine, and fully insured. There's a key on the keyring to operate the elevator."

"Why the generosity?" He inquired suspiciously. It had taken Cat several weeks before she'd considered allowing him to use her Plymouth Satellite, yet Diane was offering him her Caddy right off the bat!

"Because I like you, a lot," she smiled slyly, looking directly at his crotch and running her tongue over her lips in a hungry manner. "I want you to consider anything I have as yours to use while you're here."

He glanced out of the side of his eye at her, Her hungry gaze and the emphasis she put on the word 'everything' told him she wanted him badly. He found the idea pleasurable, but was willing to wait. He wanted her to be hot and ready for him when the time came.

The tour ended in the entertainment room. A large flat screen television took up one entire wall, with luxurious leather theatre seating in front of it. "Interested in a movie or something like that?" She offered.

"Sure, whatever you want; it's your house," he smiled, lowering himself into one of the theatre seats and gesturing in an expansive manner. He watched Diane open an artfully crafted wood cabinet and select a slim DVD case. A sly smirk crossed his face as he thought of the fun he'd have with her later. 'Glad I didn't opt for the make up after all! Would've been a little embarassin' to have to explain it later when it rubbed off. This is turnin' out to be a pretty nice racket!'

He stopped smirking when she turned around from the Blu – Ray player and sat down next to him. "The sound system is gonna blow your mind!" She announced, removing a gold toned metal cigarette case from her shirt pocket. She opened it to reveal a neat row of hand rolled joints and removed one, lighting it with the crystal lighter on the table next to her. She drew in some smoke and handed the joint to him.

'Brownie' took a long drag before handing the joint back to her. They shared the joint while the opening credits to The Beatles 'Yellow Submarine' rolled across the screen. The joint helped relax them from the long ride and made the colorful animation that much more enjoyable.

Eventually, their attention turned to each other and they began making out on the couch. Before things got too far, Diane stood up and led him to her bedroom.

"What about the movie and the grass odor?" He inquired.

"James will take care of it," she shrugged carelessly, leading him into her bedroom and closing the door behind them. "That's what he's paid to do."

---

Tig began looking forward to the weekend from the first day of the club's incarceration, Saturday meant one more day until he could spend time with his wife and forget about prison for a little while. It became doubly special to him when Dawn began to visit each week. He counted on those visits to make the boring daily prison routine a little less bleak. He wasn't looking forward to the coming weekend because neither his wife nor his daughter would be coming. He felt as if he were the last man alive on the planet. He knew that wasn't true. 'But it is possible to feel alone in a crowd after all!' He observed to himself.

He tried to push the empty feeling away by joking around with his brothers during the day. But at night, after he'd made his nightly call to Cat, returned to the cell he shared with Bobby, and the lights were turned out, it was hard not to feel the emptiness in the pit of his heart. That's when he felt the most lonely.

'Gem'll spend a little time with us before she and Clay go off on their own. She's good about that. Plus Chibs and Koz will be there,' he consoled himself while standing in the chow line waiting to be served. 'It's just not gonna be the same.'

He sternly reminded himself that it was Dawn's fault that she wasn't going to be visiting that - or any other Sunday - for a long time. He had his lady to thank for his daughter's continued freedom. 'Otherwise, Dawnie would be locked up too, and that's somethin' I never wanted her to experience! I'll just have to endure this shit until Cat gets back.'

The club met at their usual table in the cafeteria. Most of his brothers knew that Tig's carefree demeanor was a cover for his melancholy mood, especially as the weekend drew closer. They were at a loss to figure out a way to boost his morale. He looked more rested than he had when the whole debacle with Dawn erupted, but they were reluctant to make too many wisecracks that might upset him.

Clay felt that he could nudge his friend safely out of the minor funk. After all, Tig wouldn't dare flare up at his Prez! "Everything a'right with the old lady now?"

"Yeah," Tig grunted, shoving the bland breakfast around in his tray.

"Then why are ya so glum?"

"Ah, she's takin' a couple of rides this weekend," Tig shrugged.

"You realize it'd be kinda hard for ya to be there and here at the same time, brother," Clay observed.

"Yeah," Tig sighed.

"Besides those will be short rides if she's tryin' to get 'em in before goin' to the hopsital," Juice remarked.

"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, brother! Her dad forbade her to go anywhere near the hospital this weekend. Wants her to do somethin' relaxin' after yesterday."

"He knows what happened?" Clay inquired sharply. He was surprised that Cat would've told an outsider - and a minister at that - the details of 'club business'.

"You know her better than that. She edited the story. Like a lot!" Tig growled.

"Good for her," Clay nodded, wincing at the taste of the bitter coffee he'd swallowed. "Sure wish they'd have bought some of Cat's whiskey blend!"

"They'd find a way to fuck it up," Bobby mused dryly.

"No shit!" Happy agreed.

"How'd your father in law manage to get Cat to obey him?" Bobby inquired slyly.

"That's what I'd like to know!" Tig exclaimed.

"Maybe it's a father/daughter bonding thing," Clay offered.

"Neither of my girls have been very good about obeyin' me." Tig shrugged, adding to himself, 'and Cat's not much better at times!'

"Cat's father didn't have reason to divorce her mother early in her life," Bobby replied before anyone else could make a snide comment. "That might've made a difference."

"I 'spose so," Tig grunted.

"Are the charter guys goin' with her on the ride?" Juice asked.

"What kind of question is that?" Happy growled. "Where else do ya think they'd be?

"They won't let her outta their sight if they know what's good for 'em!" Tig smirked. "She's gonna be surrounded by bikers. Includin' a couple of her ridin' friends from Indy."

"And you're OK with her bein' with men that aren't in the club?" Clay inquired, waggling his eyebrows at his SAA.

"If her dead old man could trust 'em, I have nothin' to worry about." Tig snorted. Though he appeared calm and cool about the matter, the steely glint in his eyes warned the Prez that he'd rather not talk about the matter any further.

Clay shrugged and replied, "Well, ridin's always been her way to relax. It's been that way since we've known her. I hope they have good weather for it."

"She said they would. Indiana's got some nice ridin', not all flat and dry like we've got here," Tig informed them. "At least, what I saw of it when we were out there."

"I just can't picture her ridin' a Harley," Juice worried.

"She's not. She didn't rent one. Turned out her mechanic hadn't sold her rice burner, so she's ridin' that," Tig informed his brother. "What's the deal? Ya act like you're married to her!"

"She's a neat lady, Tig," Juice stated. "She nailed that down that business matter for me before she left Charming. That couldn't have been easy, but she did it."

"Just what is that business matter anyway?" Clay inquired, turning his stern gaze on the young intel officer. "You've kept pretty mum about it."

"It's not fully off the ground yet," Juice replied. "But don't worry, the club will get it's fair share of the proceeds once it's fully operational. Until then, I don't wanna jinx it!"

"Sounds like a load of shit to me!" Bobby mused.

Juice merely smiled and kept his own council, though he couldn't help noticing how close to the mark Bobby's observation was, as the cleansing of colons was one of the services the business would offer. Medical marijuana was another sideline under consideration.

Clay lay a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder as the club filed out of the cafeteria. "I know it's gonna be a hard day for ya tomorrow, brother."

"It is what it is," Tig shrugged. "Just means I can spend more time with the guys for once."

"Hey! That line of bull might work with the rest of the guys, but this is me you're talkin' to!" Clay growled.

"Dunno why you're bringin' it up," Tig growled.

"Because you're moonin' around like a love sick teenager!" Clay grumbled good naturedly.

"I don't 'moon' unless the situation calls for it!" Tig protested.

"Bullshit! It's OK to miss family, brother. No one's gonna think any less of ya for it," Clay assured him.

"Like I care what anyone thinks!" Tig huffed.

"Still, it's not like Cat's abandoned ya. She'll be back."

"I know that!" Tig snorted.

"Then try not to act like you're goin' to your best friend's funeral!" Clay suggested. "It's not the first time you've been in jail without visits from family. It's likely not gonna be the last time, either."

Tig grimaced as they walked into the sunlit exercise yard. 'Man, ya really know how to make a brother feel better!'

---

Diane smiled down at the man still sleeping in her bed. 'He might be older, but he's not a bad lover. Quite experienced, just the way I like 'em!' She set the note and the keys to the Escalade on the night table on his side of the bed, bent down, and kissed his forehead.

'Brownie' turned over and buried himself in the covers. He let out a long sigh of satisfaction, before muttering, "Have a good time, kiddo."

"I will, unless you'd like for me to hang around," she cooed invitingly.

"Go on and have fun," he sighed. "You wore me out!"

Diane slapped his rump and laughed, "You did a pretty good job on me, fella! See ya tonight!"

She slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her. 'Brownie' let out another sigh, this one of relief. He was happy to have the woman gone for awhile. It would make things a lot easier for him without her hanging around. 'What is it with women that they get all clingy after a good fuckin'?' He mused. 'Cat was the same way. I hope this isn't goin' to be a repeat of history after all! This act is tough enough to keep up without gettin' back in that sickening grind!' He sat up and reached for his jeans, which were laying in a heap on the floor next to the bed. He slid into them, then reached for the note Diane had left.

"Hi, stud!' She wrote. "Here's the keys to the Caddy and the elevator. If you need anything, use the phone to call James. He'll provide whatever you need. See you later tonight. Dinner's at 8. Dress is optional, lol!"

He rolled his eyes at the last line and tossed the note back onto the night stand. "At least she didn't sign it with any kind of affectionate wording!" He consoled himself. He rolled across the bed and dialed the number Diane had provided for James.

The houseboy answered the phone on the first ring. "Yes, sir?"

"I'm going to take a shower in a bit, there'll be a suit lying on the bed that needs to be pressed," he announced briskly, using the same delivery Diane had used.

"Yes, sir. Will you require breakfast before you leave?" James' tone of voice remained stiffly polite, with the same undertone of disdain 'Brownie' had sensed the night before.

"Sure. Just dish up whatever you have available. I'll eat in here."

"I assumed as much, sir," James sniffed disapprovingly.

'Brownie' smirked and hung up the phone without saying anything else. Diane had assured him the houseboy wouldn't say anything to her parents about his visit, so he didn't care whether the hired help liked him or not. 'He can be as disapproving as he wants, as long as he keeps his opinion to himself!'

He retrieved the suit from his back pack and laid it out on the bed where James would be sure to see

it. Then he took his disguise supplies into the bathroom and shut the door. He was able to hear James' move about in the bedroom through the door as he shaved. 'Brownie' had a brief scare when James tapped lightly on the door.

"I'm not dressed!" He called out in warning.

"I just wanted to inform you that your breakfast is sitting on the desk, sir," James replied through the door. "If you're still 'indisposed' when I return with your suit, it will be hanging in Miss Diane's closet."

"Very good, James," 'Brownie' called out.

He listened at the door a few moments to make sure the manservant left before turning on the water in the 1shower. Diane's bathroom was almost as large as her bedroom, which was pretty big. Not only was there a sink and cabinet, mirror and commode, but a separate shower and whirlpool tub big enough for two people. 'Maybe we'll try that out tonight!'

After showering and toweling dry, 'Brownie' carefully applied the pancake makeup to his face, arms, and hands, making sure that he covered any skin that would show from the suit sleeves. He stood stock still, waiting for the makeup to dry and admiring his profile in the mirror.

He wasn't muscular by any means. Some people thought he was painfully thin. But that thin build hid a wealth of strength that he used when he had nothing else to fall back on. Strength that his early years of drug and alcohol abuse hadn't harmed. His recent endeavors at the hospital had put a little meat on his bones, and increased his stamina so that he was able to keep up with Diane's sexual appetite.

'She certainly didn't have any complaints!' He grinned to himself, mentally reviewing their overnight adventure. She had no qualms about sex, engaging willingly in everything he wanted to do. Her only request was that he use condoms and she had a drawerful of them on hand. He was more than happy to oblige, as he didn't want any unwanted kids to bind him to her. "If I keep the bitch happy enough, maybe she'll let me stay here when she goes back to Vincennes. Wouldn't that stick in James' craw!'

It was definitely worth considering as long as Diane didn't become annoyingly clingy, it'd be worth his while to convince her to let him stay in the apartment. It would give James something to do, and he wouldn't have to find another place to stay while he tormented Cat and her father. 'But if she starts gettin' all possessive and shit, I'm outta here like greased lightinin'!'

Assured that his makeup was dry, he opened the bathroom door enough to peek out and insure that the manservant wasn't lurking in the bedroom. The enticing aroma of breakfast filled his nose, making his stomach rumble. He padded barefoot across the room and lifted the silver dome covering the tray. A pile of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon filled the plate. A silver carafe of coffee rested beside the tray. A silver dish of butter and another of jam stood next to a smaller pot of cool cream and a sugar bowl.

'All the comforts of the rich!' He snorted. He sat down at the desk, not caring that his bare ass rested on the crushed velvet. He'd washed, so there shouldn't be any stains on it, not that he cared one way or the other.

'Brownie' ladled a forkful of eggs in his mouth and smiled in delight. He hadn't had cooking that good since the restaurant! He wolfed down the food and guzzled the coffee, lacing it with the sugar he craved but ignoring the cream. When his hunger was soothed, he returned to the bathroom to wash his hands, then dressed for the day.

The suit was still warm from James' attentions. The pants had been ironed so that a sharp crease ran down the pants legs. 'They must have one of those new fangled dryers that does dry cleaning!' He mused, noticing how fresh and wrinkle free the suit coat appeared. 'Bet he'd have put a mirror polish on the shoes if I'd told him to shine 'em!'

The shoes that completed his outfit looked like what he believed a minister's shoes should look like. Basic men's dress shoes anyone would find at Sears or JC Penny. Not expensive, but not cheap either. The soles had a bit of wear, but that was to be expected of a minister. No one would be looking at his shoes anyway.

He checked his appearance in the mirror, satisfied that he looked nothing like the college student of the night before. He stored all his disguise materials in his back pack, certain that the manservant wouldn't snoop while he was gone. He decided to store the back pack in Diane's large walk-in closet just to be safe. 'No sense in puttin' temptation in front of the man! I doubt he goes though his employer's personal space!'

He picked up the old, well worn copy of the Bible that he'd picked up at Goodwill in Vincennes, opened the door to the bedroom, and stood listening for a moment. The cavernous apartment was quiet. There was no indication that James or any other employee was about and he hoped James wasn't lurking anywhere between Diane's room and the elevator. The suit would be easy to explain to the girl; he already had her wrapped around his finger. The change in appearance might be harder for him to pass off to the manservant.

Fortunately, James never appeared at the elevator to wish him a good day. 'Brownie' made an easy escape to the elevator. The doors opened as soon as he pressed the button. He stepped into the car with a feeling of elation.

His intention was to drive to the hospital, inquire about Blaine Marshall's room at the information desk, and pay the old man and his cunt daughter a visit. 'Maybe I'll just play the friendly chaplain dropping by for a visit, just to fuck with 'em for awhile! It'll be classic when they find out I'm not who they take me to be!'

He wasn't nervous about driving the Escalade. He was experienced with all manner and type of vehicles. This one just happened to be full of expensive bells and whistles that didn't mean squat to him. The a/c and stereo worked, and it ran, that was all that mattered.

He wasn't too far from the hospital when he spied the unmistakable form of Cat Marshall on a motorcycle a few yards ahead. She was with a group of bikers traveling in the far right lane, apparently heading for the interstate loop. He couldn't resist the urge to toy with her by driving alongside the bikers and swerving into her lane several times. He laughed at her first reaction, as well as the heated shouts between her and the rider next to her.

He kept pace with her, decreasing speed when she did so she couldn't stay behind him. He continued to swerve into her lane, coming so close to her bike once that she was able to place a well – aimed kick on the Escalade's side. 'That could've left a dent if she were wearin' true biker boots instead of those seude pieces of shit!'

The light turned yellow and the bikers slowed for a stop. He floored the accelerator, realizing that he didn't want to be idling next to the group after taunting Cat and her companion. There weren't any vehicles ahead of him, and he passed through the light as it changed from yellow to red, leaving the line of motorcycles behind. A loud double blast of horns followed behind him.

He glanced in the rear view mirror and smirked at the group. Both Cat and the male companion next to her wore angry expressions. He rolled down the driver's side window, raised his hand above the roof of the SUV, and extended his middle finger into the air.

---

The day turned out as nice as the weather forecasters promised: bright, clear, and warm for a Saturday in Indiana. It would be a great day to go on a motorcycle ride. Cat was looking forward to spending the day with 'Big Bird', Vic, and the 'Illinois Boys', as she'd dubbed the charter riders. She had a couple of water bottles and a light jacket to take along in 'Blackie's' trunk. She also took along her wrap around shades and iPhone.

Ron, the riding friend she knew as 'Big Bird', had forbidden her to pack a lunch for their picnic. "I'm the one with the trailer hitched to my bike, so I'll take care of the foodstuffs, girl. You just worry about ridin' and relaxin'." He informed her as the group was preparing to leave the 'Sugar Shed'.

"You're the boss!" She grinned.

"Better not let Tig 'ear that!" Cavey chuckled.

"He won't, unless one of you rats me out," she growled.

Hoots and catcalls from the 'Illinois Boys' met that comment. They were relieved to see her smiling and happy after the previous day's events. They were also looking forward to a run; just riding back and forth to the hospital was getting on their collective nerves.

She didn't have to wait long that morning for the charter riders to join her outside. All of the men offered to give her their helmet, but she waved them off. "Indiana doesn't require a helmet, and this is one time when I need to feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face without a brain bucket!"

"B - but, what if –"

She waved a hand to cut off BZ's concern. "With all due respect, BZ, I'm not worried about 'What if's' today. All I'm worried about is havin' a good time!" to emphasize her point, she climbed onto 'Blackie' and started the engine, drowning out their continued protests with the revving engine and the cranked up stereo. She waved merrily at them and put the bike in gear, cruising out of the parking area.

There was nothing they could do except mount their own bikes and follow her to the bar where they were going to meet Ron and Vic. The Goldwing with it's yellow trailer attached was already parked in the lot, along with a large vintage Yamaha Cruiser. Cat recognized it as a Seca II, which came out in the 90s. Vic was standing next to Ron. Both of them were drinking coffee and watching the parking lot entrance for them.

Cat and the Illinois outlaws parked their bikes and walked up to the other two riders. "Where on Earth did y'all find that old thing, Vic?"

"It's one of my clients, I rebuilt it for them, and have the owner's permission to take it on a road test," he explained.

"It's a beauty, that's for sure! Have any trouble findin' parts?" She asked. She knew from experience with the first bike she'd bought when she returned to riding, a 1980s era Honda, that finding good parts for older bikes could be difficult.

"A little here and there, but she's runnin' well. I just want to see how she'll work on a long road trip," he replied.

Cat glanced at her companions in uncertainty. They hadn't discussed how far they were going, but if the Seca gave Vic any trouble, the tow bill could be expensive if it broke down in another county. She shuddered as a flashback of Bobby's Fatboy acting up and running Alex's bike off the road months ago. 'We definitely don't need somethin' like that happenin'!"

"Vic and I were discussin' this before you folks showed up," Ron explained. "He's got his cell all charged up, so he can call for a tow back to his shop if he has to. The owner'll cover the cost. So we were thinkin' about goin' down to Brown County."

"Where's that?" Cavey asked.

"South of the city, about an hour's ride. Nice countryside, trees, plenty of curves in the road," Cat explained.

"Sounds like a good ride to me," BZ nodded. The others nodded in agreement. "Hell of a lot fewer semis to contend with."

"There's a couple of waterin' holes in Nashville we could stop at," Ron added.

"That's Nashville, IN, Cavey," Cat grinned slyly.

"I knew that!" He protested.

"Just makin' sure," she quipped.

They discussed riding order, with Ron leading and Cat directly behind him. They decided to put Vic and the Seca in the middle so some of the outlaws could keep an eye on him. "Wouldn't it be better to put the Seca up front, just in case of trouble?" Cat inquired.

"I was thinkin' the same thing," Vic admitted. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of a major pile up if the bike acts up." So the line up was changed to enable the Seca to be at the head of the line next to the Goldwing. Vic would ride on the shoulder side of the road so he could pull over if he had a problem with the bike.

Vic and Ron had female companions. Cat was the only woman pilot in the group. Ron's trailer s sported a large 'Big Bird' sticker, which added some color to the otherwise very yellow two wheeled vehicle.

"I've packed some campin' supplies and food in case we decide to stay over," Ron explained.

"I remember you takin' that to Bean Blossom a few times," Cat remarked.

"What the Hell is 'Bean Blossom'?" Mudball asked.

"It's an actual town in Central Indiana, not too far from where we're goin'," Ron explained. "They have a three day biker event there."

"Like Sturgis?" GB grinned.

"Or Daytona?" BZ remarked.

"Not quite as crowded, but that's the gist of it," Cat remarked. "A few vendors, lots of skin - "

"Boobies?!" Shank grinned evilly.

"-that too," Cat grimaced. "Though I wouldn't know. Never went to the festival."

"Campin', live music, booze, all kinds of fun," Ron added.

"Sounds like my kind of party!" Shank laughed.

Vic decided he wanted a ceremonial picture of the group before they left, so the riders gathered into a small group. Ron and Cavey were on either side of Cat, with the two women taking the men's other side. The remaining Illinois riders crouched in front of them. "OK, say cheese!"

"Roqeufort!" Cat grinned, causing all the others to laugh.

Vic snapped two of the pictures for posterity. "OK! Looks good!"

"You know I'm gonna want a copy," Cat informed him, wiggling her finger at him for good measure.

"Of course!"

"Then let's ride!" Ron called out.

The group mounted their bikes and started the engines. The roar of three Asian bikes and six Harleys, along with two stereo systems - Ron's and Cat's - filled the parking lot, causing the patrons under the awning to look up from their drinks and conversations and give the group a thumbs up for a good ride. Cat was directly behind Ron, with Cavey beside her. Vic and his Seca were towards the back, with two of the 'Illinois Boys' following behind him.

Ron piloted the Goldwing to the parking lot entrance, watching for enough clearance for all the bikes. Even though he was making a right turn, he didn't want any cars interfering with the riders on the four lane road running in front of the bar.

The bikes rolled out onto the road behind him, merging into the left lane once they'd left the parking lot. Ron led them around the curve to another four lane street that ran North and South, turning South to head towards the loop, known as Interstate 465.

The small group stayed in the right lane after they made the turn, allowing four wheeled traffic to pass them in the left lane. Occasionnaly another rider would pass the group, and would give them the traiditonal wave as he passed, which the group responded to with a friendly toot from their horns.

A Cadillac Escalade with dark tinted windows began traveling alongside them and weaved close to the line that divided his lane from the bikers. He had come up next to Cat, who - contrary to proper etiquette - was riding close to the lane instead of the curb. The Cadillac continued to move from its' lane to hers and back again. She and Cavey decreased speed to avoid being hit.

"What the fuck is that asshat doin'!" Cat hollered out to Cavey after the third near miss in as many minutes.

"I dunno, darlin', but 'e's gonna wish 'e were somewhere else if 'e keeps it up!" Cavey shouted back.

The Escalade made the same move again, but the two riders were prepared for him and immediately let off on their throttles so that they fell behind him. Cat kicked out with her left foot in frustration, connecting with the passenger's side door but making no dent in it. 'Should've gotten some biker boots!' She thought grimly. They both let loose with a blast from their horns.

"I'm keepin' this asshat in my line of sight!" She hollered to Cavey, easing off on the throttle some more to allow the Cadillac to go ahead of her. The Cadillac slowed down to keep abreast of her and continued toying with her until they neared the traffic signal controlling the flow of traffic entering and exiting the freeway look.

The light changeed to yellow and the line of bikes slowed to stop. The SUV sped through the intersection as the light changed from yellow to red, leaving the bikers behind. The driver rolled down the driver's side window and lifted his arm above the roof, middle finger extended.

Mudball revved his engine in frustration and prepared to break out of formation to go after the Cadillac. 'Big Bird' gave the hand signal for the group to pull into a nearby fast food parking lot and Grim Bastard put out a hand and pressed the safety cut off switch on Mud's bike, shutting off the engine.

"What the fuck!" Mud cried.

"Cool it, man. Bird gave the 'pull over' signal. No need to go chasin' that idiot cager and gettin' your ass in trouble," Grim explained.

Mud engaged his starter just as the light turned green for the riders. They followed the Goldwing into the parking lot where they'd be out of harm's way from passing motorists. Big Bird had watched the situation transpire from his rear view mirror and wanted to make sure Mudball wasn't going to go after the cager. He also wanted to make sure Cat and Cavey were calm from the encounter.

"Are all y'all OK?" Ron asked Cat and Cavey.

"He didn't come near enough to touch us, much less me touch him," Cat growled. "Just some fucktard in a fancy car with more balls than brains to mess with motorcycles."

"Could you see the asshat driver?" BZ inquired gruffly.

"Nah, windows were too dark. That 'and looked like a guy's." Cavey replied.

"That fucktard wouldn't have dared tried that if we'd been wearin' our cuts!" Mud fumed. He was still sore that he'd been prevented from following the SUV and introducing the driver to 'Mr. Mayhem.'

"Well we aren't, he did, and there's nothin' ya can do about it!" BZ retorted. "Except to cool your jets or go back to the apartment!"

Before Mudball could issue a heated reply, Cat interjected with some questionable wisdom, "Besides, chasin' after that asshat would give him the satisfaction of knowin' he annoyed us!"

"Seems to me our 'orns told 'im that!" Cavey sighed.

"Well, y'all know what I mean! He's long gone anyway, and likely hidin' in some mega store parkin' lot!" Cat replied. She looked at Mud and asked, "Do y'all honestly wanna go prowlin' through all those lines of cars lookin' for an asshole when we could be enjoyin' our ride?"

"I guess not," Mud acknowledged a bit reluctantly.

"The likelihood of us meetin' up with that whanker again are two, anyway," Cat consoled the rider.

"What's that?" Mud asked.

"Slim and none."

Cavey suppressed a grin at her use of the word 'whanker'. He'd never heard a Yankee use the term so well since he'd crossed the border.

Unaware of her companion's secret delight in her turn of phrase, she added, "Let's just get back on the road and forget about that jerkwad, I'm not lettin' some cager spoil my day!"

The 'Illinois' boys and Vic agreed with that assessment and returned to their own bikes. In a matter of seconds the group was ready to leave again. Ron checked for enough clearance, then led the group back onto the street and onto the interstate entrance ramp. The bikes formed a double line in the right lane once they'd merged onto the highway.

They stayed in the far right lane until they reached the exit for US Highway 31 South, which they took and were able to maintain the same formation along the four lane stretch of highway.

They were forced to stop every once in awhile for traffic signals until they reached Columbus and turned onto State Road 46. Vic and the vintage Yahama Seca had no trouble keeping up with the group. The Seca ran as well as any new vehicle. The entire group eventually relaxed their vigilance when it was obvious the Seca wasn't going to break down..

The group had to resume a single file line when they exited the highway onto the state road, which took them from Columbus into what was advertised as 'Scenic Brown County'. The state road, though paved, was curvy, keeping all the riders on the alert for the changes in the road.

Cat enjoyed the ride immensely and put the incident with the Cadillac driver out of her mind as one of those things bikers had to contend with from time to time. She had no reason to think the SUV driver had something personally against her. Having the wind in her hair and the sun in her face, along with the feel of the engine under her helped her relax better than any massage treatment would've done. Being in the company of good friends helped as well.

The group rolled into the town of Nashville and followed the Goldwing to a large gas station with several pumps and a general store. They parked at the pumps, taking up both sides of a set of three, and went about the business of topping off their tanks.

They gathered in a group away from the pumps so those who needed to smoke could and they could discuss their next stop.

"I thought we'd go on to the state park for lunch," Ron explained. "The entry fee is nominal for bikes, and we can stay there the rest of the weekend if we choose for the same price.

"Sounds like a plan to me," BZ murmured.

"OK! Next stop, Brown County!" Ron called out, giving the signal to head out.

---

Brownie' had considered finding someplace to hang out until visiting hours at the specialty hospital ended to visit Blaine Marshall. He wanted to avoid running into Cat and possibly have his plan go to pieces if she recognized him. 'Nah, I don't have time to fuck with that shit,' he decided. 'Diane's goin' to be expectin' me at the penthouse this evening and I can't mess that up. Besides, if Cat didn't recognize me in the student guise, there's no way she's gonna know it's me in this pastoral get up!'

After he'd won the game of vehicular chicken with her and her friends and realized they were heading out of town, he became more confident of the success of his plan. 'It's obvious she's not gonna be comin' here anytime soon!' After he blew through the red light and left the group of bikers behind, he continued on to the hospital and parked the SUV near the entrance. He strode confidently to the information desk where the elderly volunteer was talking on the phone. He waited patiently, placing the worn Bible on the counter in her line of sight.

The volunteer completed the call and smiled up at him. "May I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm 'Reverend Jones'," he explained, using a slightly nasally tone he'd decided to adopt for this disguise. "Come to pay a pastoral call to the sick."

"Oh, how wonderful!" The volunteer gushed. "The minister that was supposed to be here this weekend fell ill, and no one was able to replace him! Are you here to see anyone in particular?"

"I wasn't aware that there was a schedule, but God seems to have sent me here to cover the vacancy," he replied suavely. "I came here to complete some of my clerical training, so I think the most recent admissions could use cheer the most, don't you agree?"

"Oh, yes!" She cooed. "The poor things are always so scared and apprehensive when they first get here! Especially if they are transferred from an out of town hospital, which is often the case. I just happen to have a list of this week's admissions, would you like a copy?"

"Yes, please," 'Brownie' replied cordially. Inwardly, he was amazed at how easily the woman had fallen for his ruse. 'She didn't even bother to ask for the name of my church or what denomination I'm with! What a fucktard!'

The woman handed over a neatly printed piece of paper that listed the names and room numbers of the week's admissions. 'Brownie' looked it over, noting the room number for his prey was near the top. "Yes, this will do nicely. Thank you."

"I always make copies for the clergy!" She smiled.

"Bless you," he bowed slightly at the waist to hide his expression. 'Fuck you, bitch!' He smirked inwardly. Then he turned and strode briskly to the elevator bank. As soon as he was out of the volunteer's line of sight, he crumpled the paper into a tight ball. He had committed Blaine Marshall's room number to memory and no intention of visiting any other patients . He tossed the refuse paper into the trash can and stepped into the elevator car that would take him to the second floor.

He exited the elevator and walked past the nurse's station without being questioned by the two scrub wearing nurses sitting behind the desk. They merely looked up at him, saw the Bible in his hand, and returned to their paperwork. 'So far, so good!' He crooned, looking for the correct room number as he strode down the hall. He found the room he wanted and stood in the middle of the doorway looking at the prone elderly man in the bed.

The bi – pap machine was running full blast, and the minister's eyes were closed behind the thick lenses of his glasses. Both hands were restrained against the sides of the bed with lambskin covered binders. A Cubs game played on the television hanging from the ceiling.

'Brownie' rolled his eyes at the television and sat down in the chair next to the bed. 'So predictable!' He sneered inwardly. He'd just wait until the minister woke up. He put the Bible in his lap and folded his hands on top of it. If anyone walked into the room, he could quickly bow his head and appear to be praying.

Several minutes passed, then Blaine opened his eyes and looked around the room. His gaze started at the doorway and moved around until he focused on the figure sitting next to his bed. "Do I know you?" Blaine inquired through the plastic mask over his mouth and nose. 'For a moment, I thought Cat was sitting there. She actually obeyed me for once!'

'Guess he was expectin' someone else.' the fake minister observed to himself, unable to miss the fleeting expression of disappointment on the patient's face. "No, Rev. Marshall, but I know of you," 'Brownie' replied in the same voice he'd used with the information desk volunteer. "I'm here to pay a pastoral call."

"Are you from the district superintendent's office?"

'Brownie' was momentarily caught off guard by the question, but he quickly realized that Blaine thought he was a member of the United Methodist Conference. 'I could lie but there's always the chance that he might ask the medical staff or that cunt to check me out. I'm not ready for that, yet!' He smiled confidently and replied, "No, sir. I'm Presbyterian. But we serve the same God, right?"

"Definitely," Blaine assured him. "I hope you can understand me through this mask."

"I can hear you just fine," 'Brownie' replied. "How are you feeling, Rev. Marshall?"

"Tired and weak," he admitted. "I've fought cancer for over two decades, but this virus is taking a lot out of me."

"I imagine it is," the disguised minister agreed. "I hope you're not here alone! Do you have any family to visit you?" 'Brownie' already knew the answer; he wanted to see what the patient would tell him.

"My daughter is staying in town," Blaine replied.

"I'm surprised she isn't here now," the fake minister remarked in a disapproving tone.

"She's been here every day since I arrived," Blaine stated defensively. "She had to deal with some issues back home, so I told her to do something fun this weekend!"

'This is gonna work out better than I imagined!' He knew he needed to placate the upset patient before the increase in his heart rate and blood pressure brought a nurse to the room. He placed a hand on the agitated patient's arm and patted it condescendingly. "No offense intended, Rev. Marshall. I misinterpreted the situation."

"You should know better," Blaine remarked, his eyebrows furrowing in consternation. He didn't like the criticism of his daughter that was evident in the other minister's voice. No minister that he'd associated with would make such a vocal judgment. 'I might've thought such a thing myself, but never said such to an ill parishioner!'

Before 'Brownie' could come up with a suitable reply, one of the nurses he'd passed earlier entered the room to check the IV flow and her patient's vital signs. She didn't comment on the elevated vitals except to ask the patient, "Did your Cubbies manage to pull ahead after all Rev. Marshall and make your heart race?" She glancing at the television as she asked the question to look at the score superimposed on the screen. "No, but your heart rate could've risen with them being so far behind the opposition!" She answered her own question. "If you're going to overreact like this, we'll have to block that channel!"

"It wasn't the game that upset him," the fake minister spoke up. "I came to the wrong conclusion about his daughter's absence and blurted it out without thinking."

"Are you a family member?" The nurse inquired.

"No. My name is 'Rev. Jones'. I was just visiting Rev. Marshall as part of my pastoral training," he explained earnestly. He smiled winningly at the nurse, giving her the impression that he was truly apologetic for his mistake.

"Please try not to upset my patient any further, 'Rev. Jones'. I'd hate to have to bar you from future visits." She scolded before leaving the room to continue her rounds.

"I guess she put me on notice!" 'Brownie' remarked in a fake sheepish manner. "And you were right to admonish me earlier, Reverend Marshall. I had no business giving voice to my opinion like that. I apologize." The act nearly made him gag, but he managed to keep his face from mirroring his displeasure.

"You'll learn the ropes before long," Blaine assured him.

"Yes sir," 'Brownie' simpered. "I'm sure I will."

---

"You sound happy, baby," Alex observed when he called that night. In fact, she sounded more than happy. She sounded downright relaxed.

"I feel great, love!" She replied enthusiastically. "Today was just what the doctor didn't order!"

"Blaine'll be pleased to know he was right." He laughed heartily because it felt so good to hear the lack of concern and worry in her voice, temporary though the respite was going to be.' Dammit! I'm not gonna let myself go there! Just enjoy the feelin' and let her enjoy it too!' He scolded himself.

"Y'all don't have to be so bloody smug about it!" She retorted happily. "I'm surprised there isn't a new star in the East, seein' as how you men are usually in the wrong!"

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!" He protested laughingly. "I resemble that remark!"

"You resemble it quite well, dearest," she quipped.

"You really are rackin' up the points, woman!" He growled. "Just remember, you're gonna have to pay up eventually!"

"Oooooh, I'm so scared of the big, badass biker!" She laughed merrily.

He heard men hooting and laughing in the background, which told him that she wasn't alone. "Are ya still out fuckin' around?"

"I wouldn't call it that, stud muffin!" she snorted. "More like 'still havin' some fun'." She lowered her voice to add a statement intended only for his ears, "It would've been a lot more fun if y'all had been here."

"It won't be long before we'll be ridin' together again baby!" He promised, his voice thick wit motion from her admission. He hadn't wanted to admit to her that he'd not been happy with the fact that she was going on a joyride without him. Knowing that she didn't find it as enjoyable stroked his wounded male ego. He cleared his throat and inquired, "So are ya back in Indy?"

"No, love. We're campin' out tonight in Brown County," she replied.

"You're doin' what?" Alex growled, his possessive nature roaring to life. It was difficult enough for him to tolerate her riding with a bunch of men, even though most of them were brothers. Knowing she was spending the night under the stars with them was another matter!

"English!" She laughed, recognizing the alpha male lurking in his response. "We're campin' out tonight and goin' back tomorrow."

"Is that really such a good idea?" He asked in that same tone of voice. "What about Blaine?"

"Yes, it is, love. I've talked to the nurse. She said he had a restful day, and even had a clerical visitor!"

"Really? About damn time!"

"Don't get too enthusiastic about that, love," she replied sourly. "The visitor was a divinity student, not a rep from the Conference."

"Shit!" He sighed. "At least someone in the business came to see him! That's gotta boost his morale!"

"I'm sure it does, but don't let the Conference off so easy!" She growled. "He hasn't had any pastoral visitors since he went into the hospital at Vincennes. It annoys the Hell out of me 'cause he gave 'em more than 37 years' full time service and several more as a retired pastor. A body would think they'd care a little more than to ignore him when he has a need!"

"Whew!" Alex whistled. He couldn't help feeling a little sympathy for the Conference, even though he agreed wholeheartedly with her sentiment. "Ya sound more than annoyed, baby!"

"Sorry, love!" She exclaimed. "I didn't mean to dump my frustration on y'all."

"Ya gotta let it out to someon, baby. If not me, who else are ya gonna talk to?" He inquired soothingly.

"The frackin' Conference office on Monday mornin'!" She snorted. "They're goin' to get a piece of my mind!"

"Thanks for the warnin'! If I hear an explosion from Indiana, it'll just be you!" Alex laughed, hoping that a joke would help her get over her anger with her father's employer. He didn't want anything upsetting her on a day that was supposed to be relaxing.

"I definitely intend to make an impresson on 'em," she vowed.

"Then let's talk about somethin' more pleasant," Alex replied. "How about tellin' me about everything about the ride? I need somethin' to take my mind off ya bein' outdoors with a bunch of wolves!"

"Damn! I was hopin' y'all had forgotten about that part," she sighed. "There's nothin' for y'all to worry about, love! There are other women here!"

"You didn't tell me that!"

"The girls that rode with Vic and Ron and I have a whole tent to ourselves. The guys have two tents alloted to them. There won't be any nighttime manuevers on my part!"

"I know that!" He protested, though he was pleased by her reassurance.

"Sure y'all do! And I've got swampland in Arizona to sell on the cheap!" She chortled.

"Well, Hell! If I find ya desirable, those asshats would too!" He growled.

"I'll take that as compliment!"

"You'd better!" He grumbled.

"Don't worry, love. I'm not interested in the guys that way!"

He heard more laughter and groans of protest from her male companions. "I hope to Hell ya don't have me on speaker phone!"

"I know better! Y'all have a bad habit of droppin' sexual innuendoes when I least expect 'em!" She retorted. "They're just reactin' to my deflatin' their male egos."

"As any proper old lady should do!" He crowed.

"Y'all forget that there's nothin' proper about me!" She reminded him dryly.

"True, so are ya gonna tell me about the ride?"

"It was great!" She enthused. "The weather was purrfect and none of the bikes broke down."

"That always helps," he agreed.

"Especially since Vic was testin' out a 1990's era Yamaha Seca II that he rebuilt for a customer. I was worried that it might pull a stunt like Bobby's Fatboy, which he'd better keep away from me when all y'all get out!'

"You're never gonna forgive Bobby for that minor misfire!" He chuckled.

"I forgive Bobby, the Fatboy is another matter!" She explained. "And I don't consider what happened minor in any way, size, shape, or form!"

"Then it's a good thing your mechanic friend is good with repairs and there wasn't any trouble from that ancient rice burner," Alex pointed out. "Now tell me more about the ride woman! I'm dyin' of curiosity here!"

She described everything ide from the feel of the wind in her hair and the sun on her face, along with the sound of the engines' combined roars and the feel of the bike under her and how happy she felt to pilot her own machine on the warm asphalt.

Alex closed his eyes and let himself imagine the sights, sounds, and feelings as she described them, until it seemed that the prison had melted away and he was flying alongside her, experiencing the sam sights, smells, and feelings as she had.

The only thing she left out was the incident with the SUV, which aroused the curiosity of her companions. Black Robbin started to protest, but she stopped him with a deep frown. She emphasized her desire to not discuss the matter by holding up her hand in the 'stop' gesture and mouthing 'Later!' He shrugged and raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. 'I hope she's got a good reason for keepin' quiet on that!'

"I forgot how good it feels to be out in the country amongst the green and the trees," she added.

"You've been stuck indoors awhile," he agreed, feeling the freedom she'd felt for a moment. "It's amazin' how free ya can feel when you're out on a bike."

"True dat," she sighed. "I didn't even mind swallowin' the occasional bug!"

"You're 'sposed to keep your mouth shut, woman!" He joked.

"I couldn't stop grinnin', love!" She explianed.

'God knows she's not had a lot to smile about lately!' He thought. "Well, there's somethin' to be said about 'free meat'!" He laughed. "Did y'all bring campin' stuff with ya?"

"No, but Ron - Big Bird - has a trailer attached to his bike, and brought down some fishin' gear and tents. I suspect he might've been a Boy Scout in the past, 'cause he was well prepared, includin' everything needed for a great cookout!"

"Sounds like ya had a great time. Reminds me of our weekly jaunts," he replied wistfully. He fervently wished he'd been the only man riding with Cat that day, stopping at some isolated pond or lake to fish and hang out, including a little skinny dipping. "What made ya decide to stay overnight?"

"Y'all are like a dog after a favorite bone!" She sighed in exasperation. "It was a majority vote, love."

He could imagine her shrugging it off as no big deal. 'Likely she didn't wanna stay in case somethin' happened with Blaine, As usual, she didn't wanna spoil everyone else's fun. Why doesn't she ever demand somethin' for herself?' Alex didn't bother to ask She'd explained it a long time ago that her motto was the needs of the many outweighted the needs of the one. 'That one always seems to be her, dammit!'

Cat sensed his where his thoughts were going. "It's goin' to be OK, love," she assured him soothingly. "I've slept outdoors in tents lots of times in my life. It's probably goin' to do more good for me than a sleepin' pill!"

"Do ya have your meds with ya?" He asked worriedly.

"Do brown bears shit in the woods?"

"Guess that answers that question!" He snorted. "I'm surprised they have cell service in the boonies!"

"Hey, now!" She cried. "Indiana may not be California, but we're not that far behind the times!"

"It is more rural than I'm used to," he admitted.

"Well, that's true, love, but we do have indoor plumbin' and only a few places don't have cell service." Her mood sobered and she lowered her voice again so he had to strain to hear her. "Are y'all goin' to be OK tomorrow?"

He winced at her reference to his first visitation day without her or Dawn coming to visit him. "Yeah. It'll be a'right, baby. Hearin' that you're enjoyin' yourself helps a lot," he assured her. His voice took on a teasing tone as he added, "Besides, I'm lookin' forward to some male bonding with the brothers for once!"

Her eyes glinted merrily in the dim light of the campfire. "You poor depraved baby! How awful of us females to inflict our presence on y'all and prevent you from spendin' time with the boys!"

"Yeowtch!" He winced. He wasn't sure which was worse, her sarcasm or the raucous cat calls and laughter of her companions in the background following her retort. "Hey! I wasn't complainin'!"

"I know, love," she laughed. "And as much as I'd love to continue this witty banter, I've got a battery that needs conservin'. There aren't any electric outlets out here in the boonies! Say 'hi' to the guys for me tomorrow!"

He started to reply, but the dial tone was already buzzing in his ear. He replaced the receiver and sauntered away from the pay phone banks. He felt as good as if he'd just gotten a good blow job. 'Which isn't a bad idea! There's that guy from the showers that's always willin' to suck cock. He's almost as good as my girl. As the sailors say, any port in a storm!'

"Why didn't ya tell 'im about that ass'at cager?" Cavey inquired after Cat turned off the iPhone.

"Nothin' he could do about it from Stockton except get upset. Tomorrow's goin' to be difficult enough for him without worryin' about that!" She shrugged.

"Ya don't think he's entitled to know?" Cavey insisted.

"I'll tell him about it when he's out and we can both laugh about it," she explained. "Right now, he's got enough on his mind without worryin' about someo random cager wantin' to play chicken with a female rider."

"You're some woman, Lady Cat," Cavey remarked. "We all should be so lucky to 'ave an old lady like you."

"Keep lookin', darlin'! Someday your queen will come!"

"Honey, we always get the ladies to come!" Shank called out.

"Jesus Christ! That wasn't what I meant and all y'all know it!" She grumbled.

"Give it up, Cat!" One of the women called from their tent. "You know how little boys get when they think they've got us outnumbered!"

"But we do have ya outnumbered!" Yum protested. "Look at alla us, and look at the three of you!"

"Watch it, Yum! Ya know Miss Cat's smart, these other women are prolly as smart as you!" BZ warned.

"I'm staying out of this discussion!" Ron chortled, nudging Vic in the ribs.

"Me too! I've gotta ride with mine behind me tomorrow!"

"And they say men never learn!" Cat observed wryly.

---

'Brownie' couldn't believe his ears. Blaine Marshall had just asked him to offer a prayer! 'I should've known he'd ask!' He fumed to himself. It galled him to pray to a God he had no more belief in than he believed in honest work.

"Son, did you hear me?" Blaine inquired softly. "It'd really help if you'd lead me in a prayer."

'Oh, I hear you all right, old man!' The fake divinity student thought. He forced himself to smile and reply assuringly, "Yes, sir. I was just trying to think of one."

"A piece of advice, son. Carry a prayer book, or if the Presbytery offers a ministerial devotional guide, invest in it. It'll help you in the future."

"I appreciate the advice, sir," 'Rev. Jones' replied suavely. "If you'll just bow your head, I think I've got an appropriate one to offer." He murmured a heartfelt prayer for healing.

"Amen!" Blaine sighed at the end of the prayer. He closed his eyes and fell asleep as if the visit had worn him out.

'The old man bought it!' He thought elatedly, listening for a moment to the patient's steady breathing. He considered sabotaging the bi - pap machine like he had at the Vincennes hospital, but decided against it. He wasn't familiar with the comings and goings of the care staff yet and didn't want to take a chance at being caught in the act. 'I've got time before I have to go back and service Diane!'

He walked out of the minister's room and walked on down the hallway in the opposite direction from the nurses' station, familiarizing himself with the floor layout. There was an office at the very end of the hall where a patient relations official worked. That door was closed, but there was a window allowing the employee to see out into the hallway. The official wasn't in the office when 'Brownie' passed by, much to his relief.

'I'm gonna have to keep my eye on that office! Don't need that official witnessin' my presence and linkin' me to any 'mishaps' with the old man's equipment.' He fumed to himself.

His tour of the floor indicated that there was only one corridor of patient rooms. One end of the corridor began with the elevator bank that opened onto a small waiting area/lobby. From there, a short corridor led visitors past the nurses' station to the only corridor. To the right of the nurses' station, 'Brownie' found a set of double doors that were locked when he tried them on his departure from the elevator.

'Stands to reason they'd be locked with the rest of the hospital bein' shut down!' He mused. 'The nurses are probably so used to people tryin' those doors that they don't bother to pay attention to 'em.' He believed he wouldn't have much trouble picking the lock to gain access to the closed off area, which would be beneficial to him.

The specialty hospital was the only part of the large building in the heart of Indianapolis still in operation. Most of the facility had moved to a newly constructed campus on the far Southside, leaving only the speciality hospital area open for business. All the labs, operating rooms, the pharmacy, and the majority of the hospital patients had made the move. The administrative offices were due to be moved in another week, though 'Brownie' had no way of knowing that. He only knew about the move from what he'd managed to research before making the trip.

After he scoped out the floor plan and noted where the stairwell door and vacant rooms were located, he traveled back down to the main floor. He familiarized himself with the offices he needed to access and their proximity to the information desk, the security office, or any nurses' station.

One of those offices was the one holding inpatient records, an office he had accessed many times during his employment at the Vincennes hospital. 'It's possible they're just as tightass with patient records as Good Sam, but it's worth a try to get what I need!'

It annoyed him to find that the inpatient records office was close to the security office, though the door to security was closed. 'Great! Now I have to track not just the care staff, but security as well! Fuck!' His displeasure vanished when he read a small sign near the security door explaining that the office was only staffed during business hours and gave a telephone number to call off site security.

'Hot damn! Somethin's finally workin' out!' He could break into the records office to look for the information he wanted, which was Cat Marshall's local address and phone checked his watch, just to make sure he still had plenty of time before he had to return to Diane's penthouse, then he used his lock pick tools to gain access to the records department. He found no filing cabinets in the office. Shit! Everythin's on computer!'

He glared at the desks and the blank computer screens. He'd have to power one of them on and try to hack his way into the system. 'I knew it was lookin' too easy!' He fumed, settling into a chair at the desk farthest from the door that didn't face the doorway. No one happening to pass by and looking through the office window would notice the tell tale glow from the screen.

He wiggled the mouse experimentally in hopes that someone in a hurry to get out for the weekend had left the machine powered up. 'It'll be just my luck for the damn thing to need to login ID and password!' He thought when the computer screen began to come to life.

To his surprise and delight, he'd chosen the one computer in the office that didn't require such credentials to enter the hospital's databases. 'This is gonna be easier than I thought!' He found the program that contained patient records, pulled up the file for Rev. Marshall. The file didn't give him any intel he didn't already possess, which included the minister's name, address, telephone number, and next of kin. What it didn't give him was her local contact information. That part was protected.

"Shit!" He muttered through clenched teeth. "Double damn and shit!" He got out of the program and left the computer just as he'd found it, knowing it would eventually go into 'sleep' mode from lack of use and slipped out of the records office.

He still had time before he had to clean up, change, and return to the penthouse. He decided to stake out the corridor on the second floor from one of the unused rooms so he could get an idea of the care staff's routine on weekends. 'Then I can have some fun with the old man before I leave!'

One of the advantages he had over the staff was that he could hear the squeak of their rubber soled shoes on the linoleum floor whenever anyone came near the room. The minute he heard approaching footsteps, he ducked into the bathroom or hid behind the open door until they passed. HIding was nearly an unnecessary evil; no one looked into the room he was hiding in.

'Better to take the precaution than to assume,' he reminded himself. 'The one time I think I'm safe, someone will find me!' He soon knew when to expect the nurses to check vital signs or give medicines, or when a custodian might be working in the hallway.

After a few hours' observation, he strolled quietly into Blaine Marshall's room, deliberately neglecting to put on the required plastic garment. He really didn't care if he transmitted any germs to the ill man.

He stood next to the bed with his back to the door, looking down at the sleeping patient. He felt a sense of deja vu, as he'd done the same thing at Vincennes during the early morning hours before his shift and work assignment was changed.

'If any of the staff questions me about the damn smock, I can always plead ignorance and say I came back to spend a little more time with the minister. They're so stupid they'll buy it with no problem!' He assured himself.

Knowing that he had a little more time before the next caregiver would come into the room, 'Brownie' withdrew his pocket knife and made a small slit in Blaine's IV line. He leaned across the bed and removed the restraint on the arm opposite the IV line to make it look like the patient had done the deed. He smiled evilly at the thought of the consternation the medical staff would feel to think that the frail man had slipped out of the restraint.

For added spite, 'Brownie' pulled the IV needle far enough out of the minister's arm to allow a small amount of blood to run onto the bedclothes. He knew such an act could cause problems for the patient and might even kill him. 'If he dies, so be it. That's one less pain in my ass to contend with. If he survives, then I can still have fun!'

He stepped to the door and glanced down the hall at the nurses' station. No one was at the counter and no one was in the hall. He strode swiftly down the hall to the stairwell door, making sure that he wasn't visible to the patient relations officer.

The office door was open this time, but the officer had her back turned to the hallway and was working on her computer. In a matter of seconds, he was safely in the stairwell, making sure the door closed soundlessly behind him. He moved swiftly down the stairs to the first floor.

---

"Is your girl enjoyin' herself without ya?" Clay inquired as Tig stopped by the cell the Prez was sharing with Juice. The SAA was still grinning from ear to ear.

"Not really," Tig smirked, leaning against the metal opening to the cell.

"Then why the Hell are ya smilin' like the cat that ate Gemma's bird and got away with it?" Clay growled.

"I think he's just shittin' us!" Juice remarked. "Just look at the way he's grinnin'!"

"True," Clay mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He puffed on his cigar for a few moments before growling, "So what's goin' on that has ya so happy?"

"She misses me," Tig boasted. His chest puffed up with pride.

"Oh, man!" Juice moaned "As if he doesn't already have a big head!"

"That's what the jerk - off guy with the soft hands in the shower said," Tig grinned happily.

Clay rolled his eyes at the intel officer. "So she misses ya. Did ya really think she didn't?"

"Never. She missed ridin' with me though she was with all those men!" Tig explained.

Clay nodded sagely. He understood what Tig meant. Juice still looked bewildered. "I'll explain it later, Junior," he murmured to the intel officer. "They get back to Indy a'right?"

"Nah. They're campin' out in the boonies tonight. Some state park south of Indy."

"And you're a'right with that?" Juice squeaked in surprise.

"Hell, yes!" Tig grinned. "I trust my woman. Besides, there's two other women with her and all those men."

"Oh," Juice sighed.

"Did ya really think I'd be standin' here like nothin's wrong if she was the only woman there?" Tig inquired menacingly.

"Um," Juice shrugged and looked to his cell mate to bail him out.

Clay grinned at his room mates's discomfort. "Sounds like she's havin' a good enough time without your illustrious presence!"

"She's relaxed, that's the main thing," Tig admitted. "They had a great ride, went fishin', all that outdoors shit. They're goin' back tomorrow."

"I'm surprised she's not goin' back tonight, considerin' her father's condition," Juice observed, moving so that Clay's presence was between him and Tig.

"You forget Blaine told her to stay away this weekend. Even though he doesn't jave the full intel, he knows her well enough to know when she's stressed," Tig explained. "She needed this weekend and everything fun that goes with it!"

"No argument from me. She handled things as well as Gemma would've done," Clay remarked.

"Better. Cat didn't kill anybody in the process," Tig retorted.

"Get on outta here!" Clay snarled in mock outrage. "Go torment your own cellmate!"

"Oh yes I will!" Tig smirked, slipping out of the doorway and sauntering down the hall.

---

"Looks like Rev. Marshall is due for another IV and antibiotic mix," the nurse in charge of the shift informed her subordinate.

"I was just going to do that," the other nurse replied, handing the drug slip to her supervisor for review and signature. It was a safeguard for the hospital to insure the right patient got the right medication before any nurse entered the floor's drug room.

The supervisor reviewed the slip, nodded, and signed off on it. "OK, here you go. Didn't he have a visitor earlier?"

"Yes, a divinity student. Probably from Christain Theological. His daughter is sure to be pleased that her father finally received a pastoral call," the nurse replied, heading for the drug room. She entered the code that unlocked the door and stepped inside, then proceeded to inject the antibiotic into the saline IV bag. The antibiotic was a powerful one, and the doctor had ordered it be mixed with a full bag of saline enable a constant feed into the patient's bloodstream.

The nurse carried the bag out of the drug room and walked down the hall to the patient's room, pausing to use some antiseptic solution to clean her hands. She noticed the patient seemed to be asleep then noticed something more important as she started to change the IV bag, a thin redline of blood running from the patient's arm where the needle had been inserted. She also saw that the patient's other hand had come out of the restraint.

She stepped out into the corridor and called, "I have an urgent matter in here!" Then she rushed back into the room, laying the new IV bag on the tray table. She checked the IV line and found that it was leaking from a small cut. "How in the Hell did this happen?"

'I can tell you,' Blaine sighed through the bi - pap. His weak state kept his voice from carrying to the nurse's ears. He had been aware of what 'Rev. Jones' had done during his return visit. Something had warned him to play 'possum' while the man had been in his room. He'd only opened his eyes a little, but it was enough for him to witness what was taking place. It was terrifyingly similar to what he'd endured at Good Samaritan Hospital. 'I don't know how he got here, but that has to be that janitor! His action are too similar to be anyone else!'

The nursing supervisor rushed into the room and announced, "I paged the on call doctor. What on earth happened?"

The other nurse pointed to the undone restraint, the cut IV line, and the blood. "It looks like Rev. Marshall's been busy!" She murmured, blotting the patient's arm with an antiseptic wipe.

"He couldn't have gotten out of that restraint! He's not strong enough!" The supervisor protested.

"She's right, I didn't!" Blaine whispered, struggling to get the nurses' attention. The rush of air from the bi pap muffled his words so they couldn't hear him.

"How else do you explain this?" The other nurse inquired dryly. She had removed the IV needle and was pressing a gauze pad to the wound to stop the bleeding.

"That's a good question, nurse," the on call doctor stated as he walked into the room. "Didn't something like this happen at the hospital in Vincennes?"

"It did, Doctor," the supervisor explained as she took down the damaged IV line. "I'll have to get another line."

"Has his daughter been in to see him today?" The doctor inquired of the other nurse.

She lifted the pad from the wound to see if it was still bleeding. It wasn't, so she stepped aside to allow the doctor to examine the patient. "No, she's out of town."

"Has he had any visitors?"

"Yes, Doctor. A divinity student was sitting with him earlier and they were chatting. I doubt the visitor would've done something like this, he was too nice!" The nurse replied.

"Don't judge a book by it's cover," the physician replied. "Just because it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck doesn't mean it's not a goose. Did you get a good look at the man?"

Cat had provided the nurses' station with a written description of the janitor the day her father had been admitted. All of the staff assigned to his care had been required by the patient relations officer to read and sign off on the paper, to show that they were aware of what to watch for. The description was taped to the wall just under the counter where visitors couldn't see it.

"I did, Doctor," the nurse replied. "The student looked nothing like the description we read. He seemed to get along fine with Rev. Marshall, save one minor incident that caused the patient's heart rate and BP to escalate."

"What's that?"

"The student had said something about Mrs. Trager's absence that caused the patient to get worked up. I warned the student, Rev. Jones, to avoid a repeat. Rev. Marshall calmed down after I gave him a mild sedative and I assume the student left when the patient fell asleep."

"There's something about this situation that doesn't feel right to me," the physician murmured.

"Should we keep an eye on him or call security if he comes back this weekend?"

"I don't think security is necessary, Nurse. I'd definitely keep an eye on that minister if he comes back tomorrow," the Doctor decided.

Blaine stirred in protest. 'They have it all wrong!' He thought frantically. He realized his arm was still unrestrained and raised it in the air to get their attention and wheezed out a vehement "No!" His shout managed to get the nurse's attention this time.

"It's all right, Rev. Marshall," the nurse entrusted with his care replied soothingly, laying a soft hand on his head and stroking his hair. "You just had a minor accident."

Blaine moved his head from side to side and moaned in denial. He tried to summon the strength to tell the medical staff what had really happened, but he was much too weak. He clenched his hands in frustration and wheezed forcefully, "Not me. Him!"

Alarm bells pinged on the monitor, showing that his heart rate and blood pressure had risen dramatically. The alarm diverted the medical team's attention from him. The doctor frowned and shook his head. "This conversation has agitated him, nurse. Go get that tranquilizer I ordered for such a situation!" The Doctor snapped.

"NO!" The patient shouted through the mask while the junior nurse left the room to get the syringe. "Please listen!"

"It'll be all right, Rev. Marshall. This medicine will calm you down," the doctor assured him, misinterpreting the reason behind his patient's agitation.

The nurse returned bearing the syringe filled with liquid tranquilizer. She plunged the contents into the bubble on the new IV line that allowed the drug to rush into the patient's bloodstream through the IV.

"Please!" Blaine pleaded, trying unsuccessfully to resist the immediate effect of the drug. "Tell Cat that it's him. She'll - unner -standdddd." His eyes closed as the drug took effect. The monitor reflected that his heart rate and blood pressure were returning to normal.

The nurse stared inquiringly at the doctor. "What did he mean by that comment, 'it's him'?"

"According to the report from Vincennes, he claimed he saw someone threatening when his IV line and bi - pap machine was tampered with. There was only a janitor doing routine cleaning, but the daughter insisted that the worker be reassigned. That was just before Rev. Marshall was transferred," the supervisor explained.

"But look at how fresh fresh this damage is!" The junior nurse protested. "That ministry student visit was hours ago, so he couldn't have done this!"

"True, the time line doesn't fit to hold him accountable," the doctor mused. 'But I still have a bad feeling about this!' He shook his head and supervised the clean up of the patient and the restoration of the IV line in the patient's arm. The nurse was able to use the same arm, just a different vein. The restraint was checked for any kind of defect, then placed back around Rev. Marshall's wrist.

"There's no sign of tampering, I don't see how he managed to get his hand free!" The supervising nurse protested. "It's not unbuckled, and there's no way he could've slipped his arm out!"

"Are you sure? It's not unusual for a patient's limbs to swell from taking in IV fluids," the Doctor reminded her. "Judging from the amount of fluid in that urine bag, he's not retaining fluids, so it's possible there could've been some swelling followed by shrinkage."

"His arm wouldn't have shrunk that much!" The supervisor scoffed. "Just because the patient is old and sick doesn't mean that he's delusional."

"We'll keep an eye on his vitals for the next few hours, there's nothing we can do about the restraint except make sure it stays where it's supposed to be," the doctor sighed. "Watch the original IV site for any signs of infection. He doesn't need that added burden."

He trudged back to the nurse's station and wrote up his notes for the chart, then placed a call to the daughter's cell phone. He rolled his eyes when he reached her voice mail, but kept his voice professional when he got the beep to begin recording.

"This is the doctor on call at specialty hospital. Your father had an incident this evening. He's all right, but somehow got one hand free of his restraints and damaged the IV. You don't need to come in tonight, but we wanted you to be aware of the situation." He didn't mention the delusional state her father was in. 'Best she learn about that in person and only if she has to.'

---

The men remained seated around the campfire after Cat and the other two women retired to their tent for the night. They shared a hand rolled joint and passed around a pint of whiskey, relaxing and sharing tales. Vic and Ron were asked to relate how they'd come to meet Cat. The 'Illinois Boys' had become curious about her life in Indiana and welcomed the chance to learn more about their friend.

"I met Cat at the county fairgrounds," Ron explained, taking a deep inhale on his own cigarette. He'd politely declined to share the joint and was smoking his own choice of tobacco. "The staging point was not far from her house. She was leaning against her bike, looking a little lonely, so I stopped and chatted with her. It was her first big ride and she was a little nervous."

"How big?" Yum asked. "More than 500 bikes?"

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Try more than 2000. It was the largest ride of the year to raise funds for cancer research."

"Sounds like somethin' close to her heart," BZ murmured.

"Yeah. I just didn't know that at the time. She had a vintage rice burner, not the one she's ridin' now," Ron replied. "This was a yearly event where we traveled around the loop. The cops would close the entrance ramps for us while we made the 55 mile run."

"Wow! Sounds like a lot of fun!" Mud exclaimed. "The cops actually cooperated?"

"Hell, some of the cops joined the ride!" Vic grinned. "I've done it a few times myself. There's somethin' about hearin' the roar of thousands of bikes start up that gives a body goosebumps."

"Harleys?" Shank asked.

"Harleys, Hondas, Yamahas, Victories, Indians, Beemers, vintage and brand new. Crotch rockets, racing bikes, touring bikes, trikes, even a scooter one year!" Ron stated. "That's why the county fairgrounds was the staging point."

"Whew!" GB whistled. "Guess that could be a little intimidatin' for a first timer."

"The ride didn't concern her," Ron pointed out. "She could handle that old Asian bike. It was just that most of the riders were gathered in their own groups, talkin' and havin' a grand time. She didn't know anyone. After we'd chatted for a bit, I moved my bike out of the front of the pack to ride next to her, kinda give her a little company."

"That's pretty decent of you. Didn't the other riders reach out to her?" BZ inquired, thinking of the 'Biker's Code' that all riders adhered to all over the country.

"They did, but just to say hi. They didn't ask if it were her first ride or much of anything else," Ron replied. "After the ride, we ate together, and I introduced her to a few of my buddies. We did a few more rides consisting of us and my friends, and by the end of the reason we were pretty comfortable with each other."

"By friends, were you in the club at the time?" Cavey asked.

"Yes, but we weren't one percenters," Ron pointed out. "We were just a bunch of guys who rode together, like that movie 'Wild Hogs'. We were tame compared to the Outlaws MC."

"What about you, Vic?" Cavey turned to the mechanic.

"Cat was one of my first customers when I started my mobile motorcycle service. She needed work done on that vintage bike and didn't want to tow it to the only shop in town that specializes in older bikes," Vic replied. "The first job I did for her was a replacement four into one exhaust. The original one had rusted out and one of the pipes had a hole the size of my fist in it. She liked my work and referred me to any riders she met, which really helped my business."

"You two obviously knew each other," GB remarked. "Was that before or after ya met Cat, Ron?"

"After. Ron was one of those referrals." Vic replied.

"Yeah, I usually do my own work," Ron added. "Installin' the LED lights was givin' me fits. I remembered the glowin' praise Cat gave this guy, so I called him and he got all the bugs worked out. We shared a beer and been friends since."

"We both met her husband, Bill. He didn't ride, but he respected us and didn't give us any shit about ridin' with her. He knew she was safe with us. He was a really great guy," Vic recalled. "We both rode in the procession to the grave as a sign of respect."

"We were really sad to see her leave after her husband died," Ron continued. "Don't get us wrong, we're glad to see her again, but not happy with the reason for it."

"Nobody's 'appy with the reason, mate," Cavey observed quietly. "especially 'er."

The group fell into a mutual sad silence. They felt bad for her. This was one menace they all felt helpless to protect her from.

"So what's the deal that all y'all are lookin' out for Cat in the first place?" Vic asked to break the silence. "Ron told me about your origins."

"Yeah, it's your turn to share!" Ron grinned.

The 'Illinois boys' glanced at each other, then shrugged as a unit. If the secret was out, it was out. They instinctively knew they could trust the pair.

"We're charter members of the Sons of Anarchy," BZ explained after the others indicated he should be their spokesman. "The mother charter is located in Charming, California."

"The town Cat moved to," Vic observed. "That's on the PO Box Cat gave to me to send the payment for the bike."

"Yeah. You've probably guessed we're true one percenters. We just don't feel the need to advertise it with the diamond," BZ continued. "Cat's married to mother's Sergeant at Arms. Mother reached out to us to keep her safe while she's here."

"Mother?" Vic frowned.

"The originating club," Ron supplied. "Often referred to as 'Mother'."

"Oh. Why on Earth would Cat hook up with an outlaw?" Vic inquired. He'd forgotten that the majority of his companions were outlaw bikers.

The 'Illinois boys' glared at him then BZ growled. "You'd prolly be better off askin' her that!"

Vic held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. "No offense meant, guys. It's just that Bill was as opposite to all y'all as light is to dark, and she seemed pretty content with him."

"I agree," Ron added. "Knowin' Cat, she 'hooked up with 'im cause she cares about the guy, no matter what he is."

"No doubt," Vic muttered. "Still doesn't explain why it takes six of you to watch out for her."

"She ever tell you much about her past?" Yum inquired.

Vic and Ron exchanged looks and shrugged. "Not a lot," Ron added. "I know she used to work in radio and print journalism, but got out of it."

"That's about all I know, too," Vic stated. "She didn't say a lot about her past. She talked of home and family, natch. But not about anything of great importance. Somethin' from her past threatenin' her?"

Before BZ or any the club could reply, Ron interjected grimly, "More like someone!"

Now it was the 'Illinois boys' turn to exchange glances. 'Big Bird' had hit the nail right on the head, though it was obvious to them he didn't know the details. It was one thing to confide in the two men about their club, they weren't sure about sharing intel that wasn't theirs to share.

"Look guys, I can tell from your unspoken reaction that someone's posin' a threat to our friend," Vic remarked. "Surely ya don't think we're gonna tell whoever you're protectin' her against how to find her!"

"If all y'all know that someone's out to hurt her, better tell us what ya know," Ron added quietly. "We can help protect her."

"Can? Bullshit! We will help protect her!" Vic cried.

That was good enough for Cavey. "Go ahead and tell 'em, bro," he advised BZ. "They've got the right."

---

Brownie' hustled down to the first floor of the hospital after tampering with Blaine Marshall's IV and restraints. He had just enough time to shower and change before he was due back at the penthouse to attend to his benefactress' needs. He'd appropriated a designer bag from Diane's closet to carry his change of clothes and bath supplies, which he'd stashed in an empty room far from the first floor nurses's station and the administration offices while he'd scoped out the floor plan.

He closed the door behind him and slipped into the bathroom, locking the door against any curiousity seekers. He shed his pastor's clothes and stuffing them into the bag, not caring if they got wrinkled. He'd just have Diane's houseboy press the suit again. He turned on the water, grabbed his personal hygiene supplies, stepped under the stream of water and lathered his entire body to remove the pancake makeup. He also thoroughly washed his hair. His scalp itched unbearably from the wig he'd been wearing. 'God only knows what kind of shit people have had on their heads. Those shitbirds at the University probably never cleaned 'em since the day they were bought! I hope to Hell whoever used it last didn't have ringworm!'

He'd also taken the liberty of 'borrowing' a couple of towels from Diane's bathroom closet. He used them to dry off, then wrapped the supplies in them so the suit wouldn't get wet. He dressed quickly in his student garb, picked up the bag, and tiptoed to the closed door. He listened for the sounds of footsteps or voices in the hallway. All seemed safe, so he opened the door a crack and peeked into the hall. Finding it clear, he opened the door wider and looked both directions of the corridor.

He'd purposely chosen a room close to the stairwell door that would take him to the basement He could exit the building from the service entrance at the back of the building and walk around to the front where the Caddillac was parked with no one being the wiser. 'Apparently no one's found what I did up on the second floor. No alarms and no security searchin' for the culprit!' He congratulated himself.

He reached the safety of the Cadillac, threw the bag into the back seat, and climbed behind the steering wheel. He drove sedately from the parking lot, grinning in triumph at his success. The entire day had gone better than he'd expected. 'I wish I could see the reaction of the medical staff when they found my handiwork!' He sighed. 'I'm sure they put all the blame on him! Now I've got to concentrate on puttin' up with the twat.'

Part of him was revolted at having to 'make nice' with Diane. But it was easier to get what he wanted by stroking his mark's ego and she wasn't as hard on the eyes as some of the marks he'd used in the past. If he had to satisfy her curiosity about his day with a made up story, he do it. 'At least I get a little somethin' outta it,' he consoled himself. 'She's not a bad lay. Lots better than most. Definitely better than Cat.'

His dick grew hard at the thought of getting some more pussy, and ached from images of all the ways he wanted to violate Cat Marshall when he got the chance. As much as he abhorred her, there was a part of him that yearned to possess her the same way he had when they'd first met. He was able to relieve some of his sexual craving with any willing woman he came across, imagining he was doing to Cat the acts that he was performing on his partners. Sometimes the sex got downright abusive, but his partners didn't seem to mind. The only woman he'd never felt the need to dominate like that was his dearly departed wife.

"Had it not been for Cat's money way back then, I wouldn't have done so much 'H', and my wife wouldn't have miscarried so many times!' He thought grimly, tightening his hands on the steering wheel. 'It's her fault that she died, and she's gonna feel every ounce of loss that I've felt!'

He pulled into the parking garage for the luxury condo complex, using the automatic keyless entry installed on the Cadillac's dash. He parked the SUV in its' spot and walked to the private elevator that would take him to the penthouse. He didn't worry about explaining the borrowed suitcase to James. He knew the man would never ask. Even if he did ask, 'Brownie' didn't owe him an explanation. 'If Diane asks, I'll tell her I borrowed it to take some things to my 'friend'.

The elevator opened to an unoccupied foyer. James was not hovering near the door to greet him, which was fine with 'Brownie'. He didn't like the snotty attitude the house servant displayed to him, and the less he had to deal with James, the better 'Brownie' liked it. He hurried to Diane's room, unloaded the borrowed luggage, and stored it where he'd originally found it. He hung the suit where Diane wouldn't be likely to find it unless she was really looking, and stuffed his supplies back in his back pack.

He strolled through the penthouse like he owned it, admiring anew all the expensive trinkets on display. 'It'll be so easy to take this shit and pawn it off somewhere! There's plenty of places that will buy this shit with no questions asked!' He smirked broadly, helping himself to a beer from the mini refrigerator under the bar. He sauntered into the entertain room, turned on the television, and channel surfed until he found something that held his interest for more than a few seconds.

It wasn't long before James ventured into the room to check on him. "Do you require anything, sir?"

'Brownie' held up the beer bottle. "Nope, I'm good."

"Very good sir. Miss Diane called, she is on her way home," James announced before turning and walking away as quietly as he'd arrived.

'Brownie' shrugged, then downed the rest of the beer in a few gulps. He'd need the yeasty fortitude to endure the non stop prattle he expected. A few minutes later, Diane came waltzing into the entertainment room and plopped onto the couch next to him with a contented sigh.

Instead of immediately launching into a non stop marathon about her day, Diane surprised him by asking, "How's your friend?"

'Day - um! Not what I expected at all!' He quickly recovered from his momentarily surprise to sigh sadly. "Not good dear. I'm afraid he's failing."

She placed a sympathetic hand on his arm. "I'm sorry to hear that. He must be a close friend for this to affect you so deeply."

"He has been," 'Brownie' lied smoothly. "He's older than me and been fighting cancer for a long time." He didn't see a reason not to add some truth to the story. It was easier to remember and he didn't have to continue spinning a full web of lies.

"Will you be going back tomorrow?" She asked.

"I'd like to," he replied softly. "I don't think he has a lot of time."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It must be very difficult," Diane stated.

'Brownie' was again momentarily taken aback by the girl's understanding, sympathetic nature. He could tell she wasn't putting on an act. She was genuinely concerned for him. It was disquieting, as it was exactly the way Cat had responded all those decades earlier to every tale he'd told her to gain her trust and get money from her. He realized that he could use Diane's good nature to his best advantage, and just might not have to relocate to the 'Y' or a shelter when she returned to Vincennes. "It is. He was quite a vibrant man, now he's just wasting away."

"Then I think you should spend as much time with him as you can," Diane stated. "I don't even think you should worry about going back to school for now."

'Brownie's' heart nearly skipped a few beats. Diane was playing right into his hands, molding to his plan like clay on a potter's wheel! He would wait a few hours to see whether she would bring up his future accommodations or if he'd have to try to wheedle it out of her himself. 'Even if she winds up givin' me money for a hotel room, it beats the alternatives!'

"In fact," Diane continued thoughtfully, unaware of her companion's thoughts, "I'll be happy to explain things to your instructors for you when I get back to Vincennes."

'Brownie' assumed a suitable expression of gratitude on his face and patted the bare leg resting close to his on the leather couch. "I appreciate that, but let's see what tomorrow brings," he suggested softly.

"Oh, dear! Is he that close?" Diane's eyes widened with sorrow.

"Anything's possible at this point," he replied, taking her hand in both of his. "Why don't you brighten my mood by telling me about the convention?"

---

Cat awoke to the sound of birds singing in the surrounding trees and the wind rustling through the leaves. She lay in the tent with her eyes closed, listening to Mother Nature's morning symphony and thinking back on the summer mornings spent at the church camp her father co-directed and later directed for a week in Southern Indiana. She half expected to hear his hearty voice announce it was time to wake up in his own unique way: "Rise and shine! This is a day the Lord has made! Let us rejoice and be glad in it!" A slight smile crossed her face at the memory. She could picture her father, comfortable in chinos, a short sleeved shirt, and boots standing in the middle of the campground so that his voice would carry to the tents. The rounded tents that resembled giant covered wagons of the Old West and rested on raised wooden platforms were scattered around the pasture. Red, green, and blue making splotches of color against the green and brown of the campground in the early morning sunshine.

Her father would have already showered and shaved for the day, with his contact lenses already in his eyes and his sunglasses perched on his nose. He'd stand with legs spread apart and hands on his hips, a great smile on his face as he waited to see sleepy faces poke out of the tents to acknowledge his wakd-up call. He always had a special smile waiting for his only child, who would wave at him from her tent.

'Those were seven of the best summers we ever spent!' She thought to herself. 'Just Daddy and me with the other kids, living in God's world for a week that never rained. We had crafts, went swimming, built learning centers in the woods, communed with nature, played different sports games for fun and found a closer path to God. Then we'd have to go back to the real world and it seemed like that connection to God was gone.'

She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. It was a treasured memory, but she was a grown woman and her father was no longer the hearty, robust man of her youth. He was lying in a hospital bed back in Indianapolis, possibly losing his hold on Life after years of fighting cancer. As much as she had enjoyed the ride and the camping out, she wanted – no, needed - to go back to him.

She slipped her glasses on, then reached for her iPhone in order to call the hospital to check on him. He didn't have a phone in his room, but she had the number for the nurse's station stored in her contacts list. She just wanted to reassure herself that he'd had a quiet, uneventful night. She pressed the power button, expecting to see the time and a picture of Alex greet her. Instead the display showed a faint picture of a black battery with a thin red circle on the left hand side of it. Then the display went completely black.

"Shit! I thought I turned this damn thing off!" She growled, shoving the useless device in her pocket.

"What's wrong, hun?" Emily, the lady who'd accompanied 'Big Bird' asked.

"The damn phone's dead!" She complained. "I was goin' to call the hospital to check on Daddy!"

"You can borrow mine," Kayla, Vic's daughter, offered.

Cat shook her head. "I don't know the number and don't wanna use up your minutes with a directory assistance call. I've waited this long, a few more minutes to get this charged at the restaurant won't hurt."

"If you say so," Kayla replied, stuffing her flip phone in her pocket.

"I say so," Cat grinned. "But appreciate the offer."

"You wimmin gonna yak all mornin' or what?" BZ called from the tent opening. "We're starvin' out there!"

"I'm surprised all y'all aren't still sawin' logs!" Cat retorted.

"We've been up for hours!" BZ protested.

"Just like y'all didn't stay up for hours, blowin' doobies and passin' the bottle around!" She laughed. "I know how you guys are. Get all y'all out in the country and you become cavemen."

"Hey! I resemble that remark!" Ron laughed.

"We all do!" Cavey added in his clipped British tones. "And we're also 'ungry cavemen!"

"Then we'd better get packed and get all y'all fed!" Cat retorted.

It didn't take long for them to break down the tents and store all the supplies in 'Big Bird's' trailer. Ron supervised the packing, making sure all the gear was properly placed so the load was even.

Cat noticed that both Vic and Ron were more protective of her than before. She gazed inquiringly at Cavey and he nodded slightly, confirming that they knew about 'Brownie'. 'I figured it'd eventually come out, just wish it had stayed under wraps a little bit longer!' She sighed.

With camp broken, the trash cleared, and the trailer properly packed, the group mounted their bikes and headed for a chain restaurant for breakfast. They were seated in a group at a large table, Cat selecting a chair close to an electric outlet so she could put her iPhone on its' charger. She knew it would have enough juice for her to make her call by the time breakfast ended.

The group laughed and talked together as they broke their fast. Their waitress was jovial and kept the coffee carafes flowing. The only topic that wasn't discussed, though it was on everyone's minds but the other two women's, was 'Brownie's' shadow. Cat was just as happy that it didn't come up for discussion. The day was sunny, she was relaxed and happy. 'Why spoil the moment?'

They discussed their plans for the day. A leisurely ride along the state roads was agreed upon, with a few stops long the way for gas and rest room breaks.

"The latter is mainly to accommodate you girls," Shank grinned evilly. "Unless you're brave enough to squat behind a tree."

"That doesn't bother me," Cat snorted.

"Spiders do, I'll bet," Shank challenged.

"I'll admit to preferring indoor facilities when I have a choice," Emily replied.

"I agree!" Laughed Kayla.

"Well, guess I'm outvoted," Cat replied amiably, shrugging aside the men's superior snickers. 'I'd never admit it to them, but I'm gettin' too old to use the great outdoors for a latrine!'

When breakfast ended and the group had received their checks, Cat removed her iPhone from the charger and turned it on. Alex's familiar features gazed out at her, while the battery life showed it had gotten a 70% charge. More than enough for her to check her messages and call the hospital before they took off for the day.

There were no texts, but her voice mail showed two messages waiting. She pressed the voice mail button to find that both her aunt and the specialty hospital had called within minutes of each other the night before. 'I've got a bad feelin' about this!' She sighed, pressing the playback feature for her aunt's call as she waited in line to pay her restaurant bill. Her frown deepened as she listend to her aunt's message.

"Cat, this is your aunt. I'm worried. Just talked to the nurses about Blaine and he had another one of those episodes. I know you're out having fun at his direction, but if you get a chance, call the hospital as soon as you can."

She slipped the iPhone into her pocket so she could pay her bill. Then she stepped outside the restaurant and away from the door to listen to the hospital's message, which was a repeat of her aunt's message. 'Shit!'

Cavey started to amble over to check on her. She shook her head and held up a warning hand. He nodded at her and stepped back to the group.

"Somethin's up, mates," he murmured, jerking his head back at Cat, who was holding her iPhone to her ear.

"Uh, oh," Vic sighed. "I've got a bad feelin' about that."

"We all do, mate," Cavey replied.

Cat waited for the call to be connected, tapping one finger against the phone in agitation. She hated waiting on hold, and the scratchy sounding music didn't help her temper. The nurse finally picked up the line and she identified herself, listening intently to the nurse's report.

"That doesn't make sense, Nurse," Cat protested when the nurse completed her report. "Daddy's not the type of person who'd harm himself like that! He disagrees with the feedin' tube, but he'd never get himself loose from those restraints and pull his IV out!"

"There's no other reasonable explanation for it," the nurse replied.

"Oh yes there is!" She argued. "All y'all kow somethin' similar happened in Vincennes!"

"You really don't expect us to believe that some bogeyman followed him here from Vincennes to tamper with his IV?" The nurse nearly hooted in disbelief.

"I know a certain 'bogeyman' followed him here!" Cat snarled. "That's what Daddy meant by puttin' so much emphasis on the word 'him'! Why do y'all think he was so agitated?"

"Because he was caught in the act of trying to remove what he thought was extraordinary means," the nurse explained.

"That's bullshit! If he was goin' to do that, he would've tried when he first got there, not wait until yesterday!" Cat pointed out.

"Your father is very ill, Mrs. Trager, so you can't expect him to think like an alert person."

"With all due respect, nurse, I do expect him to behave like an alert person. He may be ill, but he still has his sanity!" Cat retorted angrily. 'The only member of the family that was delusional is dead and buried anyway!'

"Never the less, we're keeping him sedated so he won't have another episode," the nurse informed her. The doctor would like to see you as soon as possible," the nurse sniffed.

"Fine!" Cat hissed angrily. "I'll be there in two hours. I'm comin' back from Southern Indiana."

"I'll let the doctor know."

Cat pushed the power off button, made sure the phone shut down this time, and stormed to her bike.

"Ut, oh! Storm approachin'!" Vic remarked.

"What's wrong, hun?" Ron bravely asked.

"I've gotta cut out and get back to Indy," she explained tersely. "Some shitbird tampered with Daddy's IV yesterday, though the hospital staff is blamin' him!"

"Shit!" BZ growled.

"Ya don't think -" Yum added at the same moment, only to be interrupted by Cat.

"That's exactly what I think!" she snarled. "Daddy's not delusional, even when he's sick. Nor is he the type to pull his own IV out!"

"Then we'll just take the fastest route back," Mudball stated.

"No reason for all y'all to change your plans on account of me," Cat protested. "One or two of you comin' back with me is all that's needed."

"Nah, we're goin' back with ya," GB retorted.

"And if they're goin' back, we might as well join you," 'Big Bird' added before Cat could draw breath to protest. "There's more safety in numbers, and you're goin' to have plenty of numbers at your back."

"What he said!" Vic snorted.

"Aw, Hell! I hate majority rule sometimes!" Cat muttered, though she was inwardly grateful to them.

"OK, gang!" Ron called out. "Change of plans. We head back to Indy via the fastest route possible as soon as everyone's filled their tanks!"

---

Gemma usually looked forward to visiting day at Stockton. She missed her 'boys' almost as much as she missed her husband and son. Though she couldn't get the physical closeness with her husband that she craved, just being able to see and hold Clay's hand and to be held by him was enough to sustain her through the lonely days and nights in between. Not that those days weren't full enough with running the garage office and traveling weekly to see her father.

Nate was holding his own at his new home. He seemed to have come to terms with life in the nursing home, but still had lapses in memory where he believed his wife, Ruth, would be coming to get him at any time. His continued references to Ruth and asking when she'd be coming to take him home made the weekly visits difficult for Gemma. She discussed her concerns about her father's refusal to accept Ruth's passing with the doctors that specialized in Altzheimers'.

"What's the best way for me to handle this? It's been weeks, and he still talks about her as if she's still alive!" She fumed.

"Just tell him that she's where she is supposed to be, and he's where he's supposed to be," the doctor advised.

"Does that really work?" Gemma asked doubtfully.

"We've found it satisfies him so that he'll go on to another topic of conversation for awhile," the doctor assured her. "Whenever he asks about Ruth, we repeat the same comment."

Gemma remained doubtful until she gave that answer to Nate the next time he asked about her mother.

"Oh, that's right," he replied softly. "So how is my grandchild?"

"He's fine. He's a father now, you have a great grandson," Gemma reminded him, pointing to the framed picture of Abel hanging on the wall. She would then tell him about Abel's latest accomplishment, enjoying the look of pride on her father's face at the child's development.

She found the suggested routine a lot easier on her and figured it was probably kinder for her father. Still she was ready for a peaceful visit with her men by the time visitation day arrived.

Gemma was extremely worked up when she arrived for visitation that Sunday. Her anger at what she perceived as personal slights against her by Tig's wife had grown white hot ever since she'd learned from the prospects why Dawn had been sent out of town. She was hurt that she'd not been consulted about the situation, especially when the club got involved. As far as she was concerned, it was just another addition to a long list of resentments Gemma had against Cat.

'It's bad enough she refuses to take my advice on hair and clothes, going back to her normal hair color and un-revealing clothing!' She fumed to herself. 'She's gone and made friends with those porn gashes Opie and Kozik hooked up with. One's bad enough, but to have Ima ride shotgun on the big artillery runs is an insult to me and Tara!'

She complained to Clay about the club's women doing gun runs the very first weekend visitation. "I just don't think it sends the right message to have Cat doin' it with that bitch!'

"It wouldn't be necessary if Unser were still in charge of Charming's law enforcement," Clay replied. "From what I've heard, the new sheriff has a hard – on for the club and his eyes wide open. You bein' involved would be a dead giveaway!"

"And Cat isn't? Tig is the club SAA!" Gemma snarled.

"Cat doesn't have a criminal record," Clay pointed out. "She can fly under the radar."

"Not with that blonde gash she won't! Why Kozik decided to hook up with that slut is beyond me!" Gemma raged, glaring icicles at the former Tacoma member. His back was turned to the Queen, so he couldn't see the daggers her eyes were throwing at him. "It certainly didn't take the gash long to find a new dick!"

"Kozik's sex life is none of our business, Gem," Clay rumbled. "As long as he's happy and the bitch isn't causin' trouble. Besides, ya hate shoppin!"

"What the fuck does that have to do with it?"

"Ya hate shoppin'!" Clay reminded her. "That's the cover story Cat's usin' for the runs. To make it work, she and Ima are actually goin' shoppin'!"

"But for her to cozy up to Ima!" Gemma protested. "You know how she mistreated Tara!"

"Your loyalty to family is fierce, baby. In this case, it's misplaced. Ima is no longer in the race for Jax's affections.

"No shit!" Gemma fumed. "I really thought Herman had more sense!"

Clay didn't bother to point out that what women generally believed about a man's thinking abilities. "Look at it this way, Tara has nothin' to worry about where Ima's concerned."

"It's still annoyin'!" Gemma retorted.

"Only if ya let it," Clay replied grandly.

Gemma had no choice but to let her frustrations simmer on the back burner until she could confront the source of her anger. She intended to do that the following day, but was Cat was constantly on the go and Gemma could never get a private moment with the woman before her father got sick and Cat had to rush to Indiana.

Gemma wouldn't have known about Dawn's eviction from the Trager home and subsequent relocation out of Charming had she not noticed the increased comings and goings of the boys form the compound. She used her considerable influence on the prospects to find how what was going on. Learning that Cat hadn't bothered to consult her was unacceptable to Gemma. She'd been the mother figure to Tig's daughters for years and wasn't ready to give that authority away. As soon as she and Tara were cleared to enter the visiting room, Gemma strode right past her waiting husband and son to confront the SAA.

Tig hadn't planned on joining his brothers in the visitation room that Sunday. "I just don't wanna watch Gem and Tara with their guys," he informed Bobby.

"There's no gettin' outta this, brother," Bobby replied. "Gem's gonna expect to see ya, and the guys will be here. It'll be better for ya than sittin' in here by yourself and bein' miserable."

"You're sayin' I can be just as miserable in a crowd, eh?" Tig smirked.

"They say misery loved company!" Bobby grinned.

Tig had second thoughts about accompanying Bobby when he saw the look on Gemma's face. He gathered all his limited reserves of patience about him like a shield. 'I don't need three guesses to know what's got Gem's panties in a wad!'

"Just what the Hell is goin' on in your household, Tig? Why didn't Cat consult me before sendin' Dawnie away?" Gemma asked angrily, spitting out one question after another without giving him a chance to answer. "Dawn's looked to me as a mother ever since the divorce! If any decisions were to be made about her, I should've been the one to make 'em and have the club carry 'em out!"

"Jeezus, Gem! Calm down" Tig pleaded when she stopped to take a breath. "Ya weren't consulted because it was my woman's business and she handled it with my full support!"

"It wasn't her place!" Gemma insisted angrily. Her eyes flashed with hurt from being left out.

"Excuse me?" Tig hissed, gazing over the Queen's head at his Prez, silently beseeching Clay for help. He didn't want to lose his temper with Gemma, but she was pushing his buttons with her implied criticism of Cat's handling of the matter. The fact that she wouldn't accept his answer as sufficient reason felt like having the scab on his healed shoulder wound ripped open again. It hurt. A lot.

Clay took pity on his SAA and ambled over to intercede with his old lady. "Hold up, Gemma. The only involvement the club had was to make sure Dawnie got outta town. Cat did everything necessary by phone from Indiana. Like Tig said, there was no reason for you to be consulted. Dawn has a step - mother now and Cat was the injured party!"

Gemma looked at Clay, then over at Tig's stern expression. She suddenly realized she'd pushed him too far with her diatribe and reigned in her temper. She didn't like being reminded that she wasn't the number one woman's in Tig's life anymore. She'd found it difficult to let go of an honorary position she'd held since his divorce from Colleen. "I'm sorry to go off like that. Not being asked felt like a slap in the face!" She explained bitterly.

Tig was still seething over Gemma's unprovoked attack on his woman. He knew Gemma had treated his daughters like her own kin, and she felt a little jealous that he'd gotten married. He knew she felt threatened by Cat's place in his life because he'd focused his attentions on the Queen for so long.

'I didn't complain about Cat comin' home with those highlights in her hair, though if I'd wanted a copy of Gem, I'd have hooked up with the real thing! Thank God she let it go back to normal and didn't listen to Gem's comments about clothes, either! I like my woman the way she is.' He struggled to hold his temper in check with the Queen. He slammed his fist into the palm of his hand to alleviate his anger.

The move got the guard's attention. This one wasn't on the club's payroll. He moved menacingly towards the angry prisoner, but stopped when Clay lifted a placating palm at the guard and shook his head slightly.

"If he doesn't keep his cool, he's gonna get cool off time in solitary!" The guard snarled, stepping back to his original position near the door

"He will," Clay replied soothingly.

The guard didn't reply. His posture indicated he intended to keep a wary eye on the fuming outlaw.

Unaware of the interaction between his Prez and the guard, Tig glared fiercely at Gemma and snarled, "If Cat had wanted your help, she'd have asked for it! Unlike some of the women in this club, she doesn't need you for a tutor!" Tig abruptly turned his back on Gemma and Clay in order to put some distance between them before he completely lost his cool and did something they'd all regret.

Jax's head jerked up in response to Tig's comment. He glared warningly at the SAA for criticizing his 'old lady'. Another placating gesture from Clay kept the explosive Vice President in his seat, though his eyes flashed with anger.

"What's all that about?" Tara inquired, rubbing her protuding stomach soothingly.

"Damned if I know or care!" Jax sniffed. "Trust Mom to make things interesting!"

"So what else is new?" Tara laughed before resuming her description of the new offices being added on to the hospital. It was being funded by Hale Properties and built by Oswald Construction. The addition would allow all the staff doctors to have a place to store and write up their files and interview patients instead of using Margaret's office. The construction would be completed about the time their son would be born.

Gemma stared after the SAA in surprise. She'd never seen him get that angry at her. There had been times when he'd been annoyed and frustrated with her. That wasn't unusual, especially when he was charged with the task of keeping her safe and under the radar. This side of Tig was a little frightening.

Clay pulled her into a comforting embrace, then set her down in a seat and took the one next to her, holding on to her hand. "I've never felt threatened by your close relationship with Tig, but it's time for you to concentrate on grooming Tara to be part of the family and butt out of Tig's affairs, so to speak."

"What are you saying, Clay?"

"You heard me, baby. I know you two are close. Sometimes you tend to go a little too far where Tig's concerned. You really need to back off, especially in your comments about his old lady. Ya can see he's protective of her!"

"No shit!" Gemma grumbled, glancing at the still fuming SAA who'd retreated to the table where all the unattached club members were sitting with Chibs, Opie, and Kozik.

"Just how in Hell did ya find out about it, anyway?" Clay rumbled. As far as he knew, none of the other 'old ladies' had knowledge of the event, and the lawyer wouldn't have violated attorney/client privilege!

"I have my ways of finding things out!" She retorted.

Clay stared at her until she reluctantly gave in. She admitted that she'd taken advantage of her powers of intimidation to wring the intel from Filthy Phil. "He told me everything he knew about the situation, even though he knew he shouldn't, so don't be too hard on him," she added.

"That's for Opie to determine," Clay growled. "You've really gotta quit intimidating the prospects for your own gain! It's not fair to them."

"It helps 'em grow a pair," she retorted. "If you don't want 'em tellin' me shit, they need to be man enough to tell me 'No'."

"And run the risk of pissin' me off and not gettin' their patch? You know better!" Clay snickered. "That's why ya do it!"

"Damn straight!" She grinned back. "Dammit! Why didn't Cat come to me like she did the last time she had issues with Tig!"

"Come off it, Gem! Cat's issues weren't with Tig this time. His kid caused the trouble, and Cat handled it like a pro! Just what the fuck would you have done differently?"

Gemma glared defiantly at her husband before looking down at the table. She hated to admit it, but Tig's wife had done everything by the unwritten 'old lady handbook,' and she couldn't have done anything differently. "Nothin'," she muttered.

"Then quit your bitchin', woman! Be glad you didn't have to deal with Dawnie for once!" Clay grinned.

"I guess you're right," Gemma sighed.

Tig was shaking in anger. His eyes flashed sparks as he sat down at the table with his brothers. His scowl warned the men not to even think of making a smart remark.

"'Tis jist Gem's way, Teeg," Chibs consoled him quietly. "Ye kin she lykes ta roon evvythin'!"

"How the fuck did she find out about it in the first place?" He growled. "It was none of her business!"

"She works right there at the compound, Tiggy," Kozik replied. "Naturally she'd get curious about all the comin' and goin' we did that day! She prolly bullied the prospects into tellin'!"

"True dat," he sighed. "She has 'em pretty scared. Unlike Sack who admitted to gettin' a chubbie around her."

"All she has to do is look at 'em and those two will spill the beans." Opie added.

"I guesso. What really rankled was her implied criticism about my girl. Cat did a'right in my book!"

"Best to let it go, Tig," Happy advised.

Tig snorted in frustration but he didn't pursue the matter any further. He'd just take out his frustration on a punching bag in the workout area later. Gemma's verbal assualt had wiped out all the good feelings he had over Cat's report about her ride. He'd counted on those feelings carrying him through the visitation period. It was more difficult than he'd expected to see Gemma and Clay alone together, It was even more difficult to witness Jax and Tara billing and cooing in another part of the room.

He missed his wife's visits more than he wanted to publicly admit. He also missed seeing his daughter. It was the first time in weeks that she hadn't come to see him. The knowledge that she was safe from the long arm of the law was the only thing that made the visiting area bearable. Plus, he had the unspoken support of his brothers sitting around him.

---

Cat sat beside her father's bed, holding one of his hands in both of hers and waiting for him to wake up. Her father's eyes were closed but his breathing seemed regular. He wasn't wearing his glasses and the bi - pap mask covered his nose and mouth. His hands were restrained to the bedside in the same lambskin covered enclosures. A small locking mechanism had been placed over the buckles.

"Why are y'all doin' this to him?" She snarled at the doctor when he appeared in the room to talk to her.

"It's for his safety, Mrs. Trager, so he won't undo them again."

"He never undid 'em in the first place!" She snarled.

"Until we determine the validity of his claim of seeing someone tampering with his IV, we feel it's best to take the proper precautions to ensure his health and safety."

'More like all y'all are coverin' your respective asses!' She thought dryly. All her arguments on her father's behalf seemed to fall on deaf ears. The staff hadn't seen anyone tamper with his IV line and restraint, so they could only rely on the facts at hand. They believed that the weakened, ill patient had managed to free himself from one of the restraints and pulled the IV out of his arm.

"It seems to me that if he were goin' to remove anything, it would've been the feedin' tube!" She pointed out, making one more attempt to get the doctor to think beyond the box. "All y'all know he doesn't agree with the need for it, so it stands to reason to reason he would've removed that instead of his IV line!"

"I concede that point to you, Mrs. Trager, but the fact remains we've been unable to verify that anyone other than medical staff and the visiting divinity student were in your father's room yesterday. Until we can verify that someone is out to harm your father, we have to take the precautions that we see fit."

"Hold on a minute!" Cat raised her hand and frowned intently. "Daddy had a visitor yesterday?"

"Yes, ma'am. A divinity student. Said it was part of his training to call on the sick," the doctor informed her.

"Did anyone get a name of this 'divinity student'?"

"You'll have to ask the nurses that were on duty." the doctor replied.

"I intend to!" Cat growled. It seemed strange to her that a divinity student had suddenly come to visit her father when his own religious affiliation had yet to do so.

The nurses provided a very general description of the visitor. They gave Cat everything they could recall about the visitor, including that he'd referred to himself as 'Rev. Jones'. "Honestly, Mrs. Trager, I don't see how you could think he had anything to do with your father's IV line!" The nurse added. "Rev. Jones left long before that happened."

"I can see how it might seem that way to you," Cat replied. "However, after what happened to him in Vincennes, I'm not willin' to take chances."

She alerted her friends to the situation, and those that stayed at the hospital with her promised to keep a lookout for the pastoral student. There was nothing more she could do until Monday when she could check with the various colleges in town to track down the mysterious minister. 'Unless the whanker shows his face here again today! Then I'll have a better idea of what's goin' on.'

Cat imagined that she looked quite a sight to the medical professionals with her windblown hair. She hadn't thought to carry a comb or brush, so she'd tried to smooth her wayward strands with her hand. Her skin was also glowing slightly red from exposure to the sun. Her riding buddies had tried to convince her to go home to freshen up first, but she didn't care about her looks. She was more concerned about her father's welfare to worry about making herself presentable to the mundanes.

Two of the 'Illinois boys' waited down the hall in the family waiting room near the elevators along with 'Big Bird' and Vic. Those two had returned to the hospital to wait for word about Cat's dad after they dropped Emily and Kayla at their respective homes.

After she gave everyone the rundown on what had happened to her father and a description of the mysterious divinity student, Cavey and BZ sent Grim and Shank down to the first floor to keep watch.

"If ya see that guy, don't stop him, just let us know he's comin'," BZ instructed.

"Copy that," Shank growled.

The group had returned to Indianapolis in what amounted to record time. Once everyone had filled their gas tanks, they made haste along the state road until they could access the dual lane federal highway that led back to Indianapolis. The motorcycles made good time on the highway, maintaining their speed right at - or some cases a little above - the speed limit. Traffic was light, and they were fortunate that no police were patrolling their route.

The 'Illinois Boys' had paced the family waiting area while Cat was briefed by the doctor about her father. They gazed at each other in concern when she stopped to drill two of the nurses before rejoining them. They understood why once she filled them in.

"I'm goin' to sit with Daddy for awhile. I'll trust all y'all to keep an eye out for the shitbird," she added.

"Do ya really think a man of the cloth would've messed with your father?" BZ inquired.

"No, but then I don't believe the visitor was no more of a divinity student than I'm 'Miss Universe'!" She snorted before striding down the hall to her father's room. She slipped into the plastic sheath that was required of all visitors and then pulled a chair up next to her father's bed. She had the wall to her back and a direct view of the open door.

"Hey, Daddy," she stated softly, stroking his hair in a comforting gesture. "I'm here with y'all. You're safe. Can you wake up and talk to me?"

Her father's eyes remained closed, though his hand squeezed hers to indicate that he could hear her. She'd informed the doctor to hold off on having it administered for a few hours and to her surprise, he'd complied.

"I'm not unreasonable, Mrs. Trager," the doctor informed her. "We'll keep him off the sedative while you're here. Whether you believe it or not, we want to get to the truth of the matter as much as you do."

'He's always been slow about comin' out of any anesthetic, includin' sedatives!' She thought wryly, glancing again at the bandage on his arm where the IV had originally been placed. The skin around the bandage appeared OK, but she feared the possibility of an infection from her father's compromised immune system.

Several hours passed while Cat waited for her father to wake up. The nurses came and went to check his vital signs and the IV. She took an occasional break to stretch her legs and use the necessary or get a drink of water. Otherwise she stayed right next to her father's bedside.

Cavey appeared in the doorway, standing just at the threshold so he didn't have to don the plastic sheath. "'Ey, darlin', the guys downstairs just reported seein' some guy in a suit walkin' to the elevators. Want me to keep an eye on 'im if 'e comes 'ere?"

"Just hang around nearby, Cavey," she replied. "If it's trouble, I don't want to scare the whanker away."

"I've got this," he assured her, taking out his cell and calling BZ.

"Let the suit pass," he informed his brother outlaw. "Tell the others." He snapped the burner closed and added, "The boys downstairs 'ave standin' orders to let 'im pass. BZ will tell the others down the 'all what to do. I'll be just down the way." He walked down the hall to stand in front of a bulletin board, pretending to be fascinated by the fliers and advertisements on display while keeping watch over the room out of the side of his eye.

---

'Brownie' didn't expect to see a horde of motorcycles parked in the hospital parking lot as he approached in the Cadillac. He slowed down when he spotted the unmistakable shape of the Honda Goldwing with it's trailer amongst the Harleys and the two Yamaha's. 'Well! They came back after all!' He continued on past the hospital at a leisurely pace in case anyone was watching out for him from the first floor lobby.

He didn't panic at the visible confirmation of his suspicion. He anticipated that the hospital staff would alert Cat to the damage done to her father's IV. 'I wonder if they came back last night,' he thought, piloting the SUV through the roundabout and continuing to a nearby restaurant parking lot. He pulled into a space as far from the building as possible and sat thinking for a few moments about his options.

He would have to access the hospital without using the front lobby so he could store his bag of supplies in the first floor room he used yesterday. He'd also have to park the Cadillac away from the hospital lot. He didn't want any of the riders - much less Cat herself - to recognize the vehicle and tie him to it. It was entirely possible that one of them had jotted down the license plate number the day before. He wasn't willing to take any unnecessary chances. 'Just means I'll have to wear out some shoe leather,' he consoled himself, chalking up another grievance to his nemesis. 'Dealin' with Diane and her houseman are less of a hassle!'

He smiled in triumph to recall how easily he had gotten what he wanted from Diane that morning. The only fly in that ointment was the ever sour looking houseboy. Other than his presence, 'Brownie' was set up with a sumptuous place to crash and a source of easy money if he needed to bolt town right away.

After Diane had told him about her adventures at the convention, they'd shared another meal, but this time they ate in the entertainment room instead of the formal dining room. This was at 'Brownie's' request which Diane happily agreed to.

"To tell you the truth, I don't like eating in that big old cavern myself," Diane admitted. "James likes to show off when I bring people over, otherwise we'd have eaten in here yesterday."

"Maybe he's trying to rattle your friends," 'Brownie' remarked.

"I know he is!" Diane sniffed. "I've told him it's not necessary to use the dining room when the 'rents aren't here, but he insists on holding court for the first meal."

"This room is much more comfortable," 'Brownie' admitted. "A body can relax in here without feeling like they have to have their 'Sunday manners'."

Diane burst out laughing " Good Lord! I haven't heard that phrase in years! My grandma used to say that all the time!"

"It fits," 'Brownie' shrugged.

"That it does."

They retired to Diane's bedroom for the night after supper for other means of enjoyment. James never ventured into Diane's suite when she was home. They could make all the noise they wanted.

"How'd things go with James today?" Diane inquired later that night.

"Not bad. I still get the distinct impression that he doesn't approve of me, like I'm somethin' he'd find on the bottom of his shoe after walking through a cow pasture," 'Brownie' replied. "It made no difference since I never saw him after he brought breakfast."

"Wish I could've seen you in the suit," Diane smiled slyly. "I'll bet you clean up nice."

'Figures he'd rat me out on that!' He observed to himself. "I wanted to look nice for my friend," he explained.

"I'm sorry," she crooned sympathetically, moving close to him so that their bodies touched. She slid her hands up his chest to his shoulders, clasping her hands around the back of his neck. "I'm sure he appreciated the effort, though."

He found a lot about Diane to be appreciative of that night. She allowed him to use her body any way he wanted to find solace, and while he wasn't really feeling bereft, he wasn't about to turn down a chance to indulge in willing pussy. 'I can certainly pretend to be depressed if it'll get me laid!'

And it did. Several times that night until they were deliciously exhausted and fell asleep.

The next morning when they awoke, Diane had James bring breakfast to them, and requested that he press 'Brownie's' suit.

James agreed with a disdainful "Yes, Miss Diane," and departed with the slightly wrinkled suit, holding it away from him as if it were something diseased.

"Man, he really doesn't like you!" Diane giggled.

"I've tried to tell ya!" 'Brownie' pointed out.

"He's goin' to be more disappointed when I tell him you're stayin' on when I go back to school tonight," Diane replied, batting her eyelids at him flirtatiously.

"I am?"

"Sure! You need a place to stay, and your friend obviously isn't any better. Seems to me that you need to stay in town awhile. Why spend money on the 'Y' when it's so much nicer here?" Diane explained.

"Are ya sure?" 'Brownie' pretended to be concerned while he was inwardly smiling with glee. Diane was offering what he wanted without so much as a single hint! 'Some women are just so easy!'

"I wouldn't let you stay here without me if I wasn't," Diane stated. "You didn't try anything in the car, or drop one of those tired old pick up lines when you first saw me. That tells me a lot. I've got the means to do something decent for someone, so there you are."

"I wouldn't want to make any trouble for you with your parents," 'Brownie' continued.

"What trouble?" She shrugged. "They won't be back for several weeks, maybe even months. The staff needs someone to look after, and I'll be back on the weekend anyway. It's a win - win for both of us."

"If you're sure," 'Brownie' replied with the right amount of doubt in his voice.

"I'm sure. No more arguing!"

He decided to park the SUV a block from the hospital on a residential street. The Cadillac would be safe from being towed, which could easily happen if he left it in the drug store or restaurant parking lot for any length of time. He walked to the back entrance, slipped inside and stored his bag in the room he'd selected. Then he slipped back out the door and walked around to the front of the hospital, making it look as if he was walking from the nearby bus stop.

'Gotta remember not to act like I recognize those fuckers,' he sternly reminded himself as he approached the front entrance. He had the same worn Bible tucked under his arm that he'd used for a prop the day before. 'They shouldn't have any way of knowin' I'm the one that flipped 'em off yesterday!'

He took a deep breath and stepped past the threshold, standing in the doorway for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. There was no one staffing the information desk, and no sign of any security or other staff members. He did notice two of the bikers from yesterday lounging in chairs near the entry, but they merely looked up at his entrance before returning to their card game.

'Brownie', now disguised as 'Rev. Jones', nodded amiably at the two outlaws. He turned from them to walk towards the elevator bay, dismissing them as no threat to his plan. 'If they were gonna mess with me, they'd have given up their game to confront me. Likely they just wanted someplace to spread out and not bother civilians.'

He kept his ears tuned to catch any sounds of movement or footsteps behind him as he walked to the elevators. He heard nothing but the occasional 'slap' of cards hitting against each other. He didn't relax his vigilance until he reached the elevator bay and stepped into a car to take him to the second floor.

His relief was short lived when he stepped into the second floor waiting area to find three more of the men from the previous day's ride lounging around. He nodded cordially at the men, who gazed intently at him but said nothing to him. He rounded the corner to pass the nurses' station when he was halted in mid step by the nurse on duty.

"Just a moment, Rev. Jones!" The nurse called out, rising from her seat to confront him.

'Brownie' stopped next to the counter and waited, gazing inquiringly at the nurse. "Yes, ma'am?" He was glad that his voice didn't reflect his nervousness. He could see another one of the riders from the previous day standing down the hallway a few feet from Rev. Marshall's room. Though the man was pretending to be engrossed in the fliers on the bulletin board in front of him, 'Brownie' had a feeling the biker was waiting on him. 'I've got a bad feelin' about this!'

"I wanted to advise you that Rev. Marshall had a minor set back yesterday after you left," the nurse explained, casting a significant look down the hall at the lone man standing in front of the bulletin board.

"Really? He seemed fine when I left," 'Brownie masterfully feigned surprise. "What happened?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," the nurse stated. "He claims you were the one who undid one of his restraints and damaged his IV line."

"Me?" 'Brownie' echoed incredulously. "How could that be? I visited a few other patients but didn't come back to his room at all!"

"I realize that, sir," the nurse assured him. "We just wanted you to be informed in case Mrs. Trager, his daughter, asked you about it."

"Ah," he exhaled. "Forewarned is forearmed."

"Exactly. She's a bit protective, which is understandable."

When the nurse didn't add to her comment, 'Brownie' inquired, "Why is that, nurse?"

"Something similar happened at the previous hospital," the nurse admitted. "The daughter lives in another state."

"Hmm," 'Brownie' rubbed his chin speculatively. "That's certainly reason enough for her to be protective. I appreciate you taking the time to inform me, nurse."

The nurse stepped back to the work table while 'Brownie' remained standing by the counter, contemplating his next move. He could either continue to his destination and possibly be confronted by the biker standing in the hall or he could turn and go back the way he came. 'But if I do, those assholes will confront me!' He thought, treading water as he thought over his choices. 'Best to 'Bogart' my way through this,' he decided as he walked purposefully to the room and pulled a plastic sheath from the container near the doorway. He put it on over his suit, then stood in the threshold of the room.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Trager," he announced calmly. "I'm Rev. Jones."

---

Cat looked up as a form wearing a plastic sheath stopped in the threshold to her father's room. The form was tall and thin, but appeared nothing like her former nemesis. The hair was coal black, which she attributed to either a wig or dye, but the eyes were definitely not the ice blue she remembered. 'He could've gotten colored contacts,' she advised herself.

She glanced at her father, who was still asleep. She let go of his hand and patted his arm before speaking to the visitor. "You visited my father yesterday," she observed quietly. "Come in and cop a squat. I think we need to talk."

"Yes, the nurse already told me what happened yesterday," 'Rev. Jones' acknowledged as he stepped into the room and lowered himself to a chair near the wall across from Cat. The patient's bed was directly between them. "I'm really sorry someone would do such a terrible, evil thing to your father."

The voice sounded nothing like the voice she remembered. It was soft, and higher than the voice that often plagued her nightmares. 'He was always good at imitatin' other voices, so that doesn't mean this couldn't be him. Damn!' She momentarily felt like a cornered animal with no escape route available when she spotted Cavey standing out in the hall.

He had strolled casually over after 'Rev. Jones' entered the room, leaning against the wall opposite the doorway. He had an unobstructed view of Cat and her father. Cavey nodded to let her know he was ready to come to her aid if needed. He also held up his cell phone to show that someone - presumably BZ - was also listening and could come to her aid.

Knowing that she had back up enabled Cat to relax in the divinity student's presence. She wasn't sure that he wasn't 'Brownie' in disguise, but she was hesitant about accusing him outright. 'I'd feel like a damn fool for doin' so, even though Daddy seemed certain of it. Best to play the hand as it's dealt for now,' She sat back against the chair and intently studied the visitor.

"Mrs Trager? Are you angry with me?" The fake divinity student inquired. He was inwardly worried that Cat had managed to recognize him as either the harassing driver from the previous day, or as his true self. He managed to keep his fear from being reflected in his voice, injecting just the right amount of professional concern in his tone.

"No," she sighed. "I'm actually grateful that someone in the professionl cared enough to pay a call on him. I don't know why the Conference hasn't sent anyone to visit him."

"I understand your father is a retired United Methodist minister," the ersatz minister stated.

"That's why I'm a bit annoyed with 'em right now," she acknowledged. "He gave so much of his time and energy to others, and it seems like he's gettin' treated like a red headed stepchild with freckles!"

'Brownie' suppressed a grim smile at her reply. He'd nearly forgotten how descriptive she could be about things. Even mundane things could bring out that ability, much like Spock calling curse words 'colorful metaphors'. He cleared his throat and stated. "I'm sure there has to be a logical explanation for it, Mrs. Trager."

'That's weird!' She frowned slightly. 'How many divinity students refer to somethin' as logical?'

'Brownie' winced inwardly at his slip. He'd often used 'Trekkie' comments with her when he was earning her trust. He needed to cover up for his error right away. "That wasn't a very ministerial term to use, was it?" He laughed nervously. "I'm a 'Star Trek' fan."

Cat smiled slightly to ease the tension that had suddenly come up. "Well, you must be a serious fan, as y'all didn't refer to yourself as a 'Trekkie'."

"There's a difference?" He actually knew the answer to that. Cat had explained it to him long ago, but the divinity student he was portraying wouldn't know.

"Well, it doesn't make much difference these days," she admitted with a wry grin. "But back in fandom's early days, 'Trekkers' were the serious fans that wrote and published fanfiction and artwork. 'Trekkies' were the squealers on a par with the girls who went wild when the Beatles first came to America."

'Rev. Jones' smiled and nodded. "I'm not really either. Never wrote or drew, and I'm certainly not a squealer."

"But you're a fan," she acknowledged. "We're gettin' off the subject here" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why would Daddy think that you tampered with his IV and restraints?"

'Brownie' felt his stomach turn to ice. 'Fuck! The bitch has the memory of the elephant she used to look like! I thought she'd forgotten!' He desperately thought for an answer, then recalled what Bill Vaughn at Vincennes had said to the Good Samaritan security chief. "Your father had been sedated, Mrs. Trager. He must've woke up during the event, and his mind conjured up my image because it was the one he last remembered."

Cat crossed her arms over her chest as her frown deepened. Cavey took a step towards the door but stopped when she shook her head slightly. To 'Rev. Jones', it looked like she was trying to process his explanation. Cavey knew the gesture was meant to ward off his interference.

'I 'ope the gurl knows what she's doin'!' He thought, nodding reluctant acceptance of her wishes and stepping back against the wall.

"As y'all said earlier, that seems like a logical explanation," Cat admitted slowly.

"Trust me, my dear," her disguised nemesis purred. "I would no more harm your father than I'd harm you." He inwardly laughed at the irony of that comment, as it held some truth. 'Rev. Jones' wouldn't hurt either of the Marshalls.

A shiver ran up Cat's spine. She sensed something sinister lurking in the divinity student's comment, though she couldn't pin it down. The phrasing seemed off to her.

Her father stirred and moaned, blinking his eyes several times before managing to get them open and looking towards the sound of her voice.

"Hi, Daddy. Do you want your glasses?" She opened the bed table drawer and removed the glasses case from it, sliding his eye wear from the protective confines.

He nodded and watched her closely as she settled the glasses over his face, securing the temples over his ears and making sure the frame wasn't hampered by the bi - pap mask. She settled back in her chair and saw her father's eyes bulge in fear at the sight of 'Rev. Jones.' He opened his mouth to protest, but Cat stopped him before he could say a word.

"It's OK, Daddy. You're safe," she assured him, gesturing with her eyes at the hallway where Cavey stood. She had turned in such a way that the visitor couldn't see her face. She mouthed "Just look in the hallway, Daddy! The man standing there is watching over us! Just don't let on that you see him!"

Blaine turned his head, pretending to look at the visitor. He caught a glimpse of the tall, strong biker who lifted an encouraging thumb at the patient. "OK," he sighed weakly, turning his face back to her. He squeezed her hand to show that he understood her perfectly.

'He's not as medicine fuddled as they think!' She thought with angry relief. Her face briefly reflected her thoughts before settling into a more pleasant expression. She wasn't absolutely certain that their visitor wasn't just what he claimed to be, and until she knew for certain, she intended to play her cards close to her chest. To do otherwise could be dangerous for them both.

"So I'm curious, are you studyin' at the theological seminary in town?" She inquired of their visitor.

"No, I'm taking courses at DePauw in Greencastle," he explained. "I hope to go on to the seminary here after graduation."

Blaine glanced at his daughter. DePauw didn't have a pre-seminary course of study, no more than any other state university. He had graduated from Indiana University before going on to seminary. His degree was in history, with a minor in religious studies. He nodded slightly at her, indicating the visitor's story was plausible.

Cat patted her father's arm to show she understood, though she planned to check on the story herself later. "So are these pastoral visits part of your classwork?"

"Partly. The other part is just that I felt compelled to visit the sick who might not have family to visit them. Seemed to me that a hospital in a state of transition would be a likely place to start."

Blaine increased the pressure on his daughter's hand. She squeezed back to reassure him. She was convinced that the alleged divinity student wasn't everything he presented himself to be, but she just couldn't be certain that it was 'Brownie'. She wished there was more time to try to bait a verbal trap for their visitor to fall into, but she didn't want to put her father through any more stress to get the visitor to trip up and reveal himself. "Well, I want to tell y'all that it's very nice that you came to see my father. You're probably right that there's a logical explanation for the Conference not followin' through, which I certainly intend to look into tomorrow," she squeezed her father's hand again as she spoke, hoping he wouldn't protest her comment. 'I plan to look into a lot of things tomorrow!'

If the man she suspected might be her former attacker caught any hidden meaning to her comment, he hid it well. "I've interrupted your time with your father enough, dear lady," the ersatz student announced. He stood up to move close to the bed, standing directly in front of Cavey's view of the patient and his daughter.

Cavey stepped to one side, trying to get a clear view of the pair, but the thin form of the student successfully blocked his line of sight. He tread water for a moment, speaking softly into the cellphone. "That guy's standin' right in front of Rev. Marshall's bed, blockin' my view! Should I intercede?"

"Let Miss Cat handle it, Cavey. That's what she said to do," BZ declared. "If she needs help, she'll let ya know."

"I 'ope so," Cavey sighed, resuming his position against the wall. He remained tense, waiting and ready to act if he needed to.

Inside the room, 'Rev. Jones' took Blaine's hand in one of his and reached across the bed, offering his other hand to Cat. "I'd like to offer a prayer before I leave. It seemed to comfort your father yesterday, and may do so again."

Cat looked at the offered hand. It was thin but appeared strong, maybe strong enough to do someone serious harm. Her father's hand tensed in hers and his eyes were wide with fear. She nodded encouragingly at her father and replied to the student. "If you think it'll help."

"I know it will," the student assured her.

She took his hand in her free one and immediately felt as if she'd touched liquid nitrogen. She was barely able to suppress the shudder that threatened to rack her body. She held in a gasp of shock through sheer force of will and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her eyes met her father's in a gaze of mute understanding.