Charming Pawse NS to Out It's a Family Affair

by wanderingchat

As the incarcerated club members settle into prison routine, Gemma heads out to Klamath Falls to visit her depressed father. Cat deals with her step - children and begins whipping the gym back into shape for reopening. Kozik patches in to SAMCRO, and a ghost from Cat's past emerges.

The characters and events involving the Sons of Anarchy are the creation of Kurt Sutter.

No copyright infringement is intended.

Any use of lyrics and the use and 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 imagination. Any similarities to real persons are pure coincidence.

Love and thanks go to the DH, who is very much alive and well; along with my best friend and my 'unofficial' god – daughter for being part of my family. Also, much thanks to the members of the Indy Tarts and Tartans Gerard Butler fan group, SOA Forums, Watchers of Anarchy, Kim Sisk (author of Sapphires and Whiskey), and my Facebook and Twitter friends for their support. A big thank you for those readers who have written reviews and listed me as a favorite author here at .

Finally, 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.

Please note: the Alzheimer's unit where Nate Madoc lives is modeled after a real one that exists at the United Methodist Retirement Home in Franklin, IN.

Charming Pawse

From NS to Out

Chapter II

It's A Family Affair

Dawn relaxed in a backyard lounge chair behind Colleen's rented home. It was a small backyard, nothing like the one at her father and step - mother's home. Nor was it as green. Colleen's backyard consisted of hard packed dirt with a few clumps of weeds valiantly trying to rise from the earth.

She turned the slip of paper her mother had given her over and over in her hand. The paper had her step - mother's cell phone number on it. Colleen had said that Cat Marshall had a job for her sister and her, but she had no intention of sharing the news with Fawn. 'She's got her boyfriend to take care of her. She left me to deal with Mom. Providing I can tolerate working for my step - mother, this job will get me out of the house a couple of days a week.'

Step - mother. The idea of having a step - mother was still a novelty to her. Neither of Tig's daughters had believed he'd ever let himself get close to another woman - much less marry one - after the betrayal he'd suffered at their mother's hands.

Bobby had come by the house the night before Tig was due to be released to remind the family about the welcome home party the next day. "We're takin' his bike up to him so he can enjoy the freedom of ridin'."

Fawn and Dawn were grade schoolers at the time. They were excited to hear that their father was coming home at last.

"Now Mommy will get rid of that awful man that's been coming around!" Fawn whispered to her sister.

Colleen wasn't happy by the news. "So what?" She asked in a bored tone of voice.

"I thought ya'd be interested," Bobby frowned. "We're havin' a welcome home party for him at the clubhouse. He'll expect you and the girls there to greet him."

Colleen rolled her eyes and looked away from the club secretary. She hadn't expected Tig would be coming home so soon. 'It figures he'd get out on time for once! I'm not ready to give up my fun yet!'

Dawn chose that moment to decide to tell Bobby about their mother's nightly visitor and piped up, "Mommy has had -" The rest of her comment was muffled by her mother's fingers covering her mouth.

Colleen shook her head warningly at Fawn before turning her angry glare on her other daughter, who was squirming against her hand. She definitely didn't need her children to tell 'Uncle Bobby' her business.

Fawn looked away from her mother's fierce stare to gaze at the floor. Dawn's eyes were round with fear but she stopped squirming to get free from her mother's hand. Both girls knew that there'd be Hell to pay if they said one word to 'Uncle Bobby' about her nightly visitor.

"I've not been feeling well the last few days, Bobby," Colleen lied smoothly.

"Oh? What's wrong?" His question was directed at Colleen, but he gazed intently at the children, hoping one of them would speak up. He didn't like the way Colleen had silenced Dawn, nor the sudden change in the girls' demeanor.

Neither girl said a word. They wouldn't even look at him, keeping their small heads bowed and their gazes on the floor.

"Just a virus. It'll pass. I won't be able to be at the clubhouse," Colleen assured him.

'I've got a bad feelin' about this!' Bobby thought to himself. "Chibs could come get the girls in the van," he offered. "That way, they could be present when Tig pulls in."

"I'd rather they not be exposed to what goes on during those parties," Colleen countered. "They can see Tig when he comes home."

"When can we expect Daddy?" Fawn asked softly.

'There's somethin' not right goin' on here, and the girls are too scared to tell me with that gash around!' Bobby's heart hurt from the wistful note in the little girl's voice. He decided right then and there to mislead Colleen. "Your Daddy will be gettin' out late in the afternoon. We'll hold off on startin' the party until he's come here to see you, how's that sound?"

He watched Colleen out of the corner of one eye while he spoke to the girls. His heart lifted at the eager anticipation in their faces. There was no doubt they loved their father and missed him. Colleen looked downright relieved.

'You're gonna be in for one nasty surprise if what I think is goin' on is really happenin',' Bobby thought to himself. Tig was getting released at midnight and would be home before breakfast.

'I'll have one more night with my lover. He'll be gone long before Tig gets home, and he'll never know!' Colleen reassured herself. She smiled brightly and informed the club secretary that the family would be ready and waiting for Tig.

The girls exchanged wary glances. They didn't understand why their mother didn't want 'Uncle Bobby' to know about her overnight guest. They both had a feeling something wasn't right and it frightened them.

"C'mon over and give your 'Uncle Bobby' a hug, darlin's," he grinned at the girls.

Both girls advanced slowly towards him, which made more alarm bells go off in his head. Normally they raced to hug and tickle him. He would laugh hard enough from their attack that his belly would jiggle against their heads and make them laugh.

Instead they took one slow step after another until they stood silently in front of him. He knelt so that his face was on a level with them. "Don't worry little ones," he whispered reassuringly to them. "You haven't done anything wrong."

They threw their arms around his neck and held on for dear life. He held them close to him, then kissed the top of each child's head. "Go on and play now," he instructed them, gazing meaningfully over their heads at Colleen.

The girls scampered off to their bedroom, leaving Bobby and Colleen alone. Thinking the girls were out of earshot, Bobby turned the full force of his temper on Colleen.

"What was Dawn gonna say that you didn't want her to say, Colleen?" He growled.

"Nothing, Bobby. I told you - "

"And I'm tellin' you!" Bobby interjected. "If you're messin' around on Tig because of the 'prison clause', that's between you and him. But if you're doin' it in his house, that's somethin' he's never gonna be able to forgive!"

"It's my house, too!" She snarled.

"You don't get it," Bobby sighed. Colleen's attempt to justify her betrayal of his brother defalted his righteous anger. 'She never will get it, either!'

"I get it all right! It's fine for you guys to go sticking your cocks into any pussy you want any time you want! Let one of your women even think about entertaining another dick and we're sluts!"

"That's not the point, Colleen. Sure, Tig's had 'road sex'. He's never brought it home. That's the difference, and if it's happenin' in his bed, that definitely makes you a slut!"

Bobby turned and walked out the door, followed by Colleen's foul diatribe. He gunned the engine of his bike to drown out her invective and rode away, shaking his head in dismay. 'The Hell of it is that those girls are going to be the ones payin' the price.'

Bobby took Tig aside the minute he'd exchanged the 'bro hug double back tap' with his brothers. "There's somethin' I need to tell ya, man."

"Colleen's invoked the 'prison clause'," Tig muttered. "I figured she would."

"Did ya figure she'd do it in your bed?" Bobby countered softly.

Tig's eyes filled with pain, then flashed with anger at the thought of his daughters being exposed to such a thing. "Are you sure?"

"Dawnie was tryin' to tell me somethin' yesterday, but Colleen shushed her. You'll know soon enough; she's not expectin' ya until this afternoon."

When Tig walked into his house the next morning, he didn't seem surprised to find his wife in his bed being fucked by another man. He left the house an hour later, only returning to pick the girls up for visitation.

Like any children of divorce, Dawn and Fawn had hoped their parents would get back together. Despite the years that passed and the many disappointments they suffered from Tig's continued no - shows, both girls held on to that hope until they learned their father had gotten married again.

By then, the girls were nearly high school graduates and had grown indifferent to their father from his constant no - shows. They had very little love for their mother, who had become bitter and shrewish from Tig's refusal to reconcile with her. Colleen's behavior grew worse when they got the news that Tig had remarried.

"We gave up on Daddy because it kept Mother off our backs,' Dawn observed to herself. "It was too late to change anything by the time we figured out she really was responsible for Daddy's no - shows. He'd pretty well gotten the message from us not to bother trying to make amends."

Though he continued to provide the monthly support, they didn't go out of their way to be part of his life. 'He didn't fight harder to be part of ours, either!' Dawn huffed. When they reached the age of 18, the support stopped and the girls assumed that he would stop the twice yearly visits now that he had a new wife.

They were both surprised when Cat Marshall, the woman their father had married, called to invite them to their home in Charming to get to know her. She'd called Colleen for permission, which surprised all three Trager women. Another surprise awaited the girls when Colleen encouraged them to go and offered to drive them!

'That was certainly a disastrous ride!' Dawn snorted. 'Mother spent the entire drive telling us Cat was only using us to make a good impression on Daddy. She was really upset when she saw the house they lived in!'

"Tig's certainly living in the lap of luxury!" Colleen grumbled as she pulled her ancient sedan to a stop in front of her former husband's new home. She eyed the neatly kept lawn and large, one story structure with wanton desire. It was better than the ramshackle building she rented!

"Remember everything I told you about that bitch," Colleen instructed her daughters before they got out of the car. "Don't trust her for a minute, no matter how niceshe seems to act. And for God's sake, don't listen to her if she tells you to call her 'Mom'. You have a mother!"

"We've heard you," Fawn grumbled.

"Several times," Dawn added moodily.

"I'll be hanging around at 'Hannah's Place'. If you haven't texted me to come get you by 9pm, I'm coming after you."

"We'll be ready to go long before then," Fawn snorted, slamming the back door shut.

The girls waited until their mother pulled the car away from the curb, then turned to take in their father's house. A red PT Cruiser sat in the driveway, along with Tig's Dyna and a second bike.

"Does she ride?" Dawn asked her sister.

"She must. Daddy would never own a rice burner," Fawn observed. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

They walked up the drive towards the front door, which opened before they were half way up the drive. A small woman wearing black denim and a long-sleeved black shirt with a cat face on it walked onto the porch.

"Is that her?" Fawn whispered. "She's old!"

"Definitely! And look at those thick glasses!" Dawn hissed.

"She's got weight, too!" Fawn giggled. "Daddy must've been drunk!"

"Hey! Glad y'all made it! C'mon in!" Cat Marshall smiled invitingly. She'd heard the girls' comments about her appearance, but she pretended she hadn't. "Your dad's inside primping."

"I do not 'primp'!" Tig snorted, striding out the front door and rushing towards his daughters. He wrapped his arms around both girls at the same time and hugged them tightly. "Thanks for comin'. How'd you get here?"

"Mom dropped us off. She's having dinner at 'Hannah's Place'," Dawn explained.

"We can't stay long," Fawn added. "Just a couple of hours. Mom wants to be back home by 10."

Tig's face fell at the news, but he quickly overcame his disappointment. "Then we'll just have to make the most of it. C'mon and meet Cat."

"If we must," the girls muttered.

Tig kept his arms around their shoulders as he led them to the porch where Cat waited. She was leaning against a porch rail, smiling indulgently at them. Her crossed arms hid her iPhone, which she'd just used to snap a picture of Alex and his daughters so they'd have an updated picture for the family gallery.

"Y'all are lovely!" She exclaimed, shaking hands first with Dawn, then with Fawn instead of hugging them. She sensed they wouldn't be comfortable with that. "Honestly, love! The pictures y'all showed me don't do them justice!"

"The looks they get from their mother," Tig replied, squeezing their shoulders.

"So I see," Cat replied, her eyes twinkling with good humor.

"You're gonna pay for that one, woman!" He growled menacingly. His frown melted into a wide smile when she returned his fearsome expression with a smirk.

Dawn and Fawn sighed in exasperation at the by play between the couple. "Jesus!" Fawn muttered under her breath.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Where's your manners?" Tig yelped.

"I suppose you expect us to call her 'Mommie Dearest'?" Dawn snapped.

"Nah,y'all are more than welcome to call me by my first name," Cat replied warmly. "It's a lot easier than Ms. Marshall or Mrs. Trager. Lot less formal, too." She turned her to Alex and added, "Speakin' of manners, love, are y'all goin' to escort your girls into the house, or are we goin' to stand out here and feed the skeeters?"

Dawn and Fawn exchanged confused looks. "What the Hell are 'skeeters'?" Fawn asked.

"Do we really want to know?" Dawn muttered to her sister.

"Mosquitoes," Tig informed them. "Cat comes from Southern Indiana. They use a few different words than we do."

"Southern Indiana, huh?" Dawn smirked. "Explains the fake Southern accent."

"Watch your mouth young woman!" Tig snapped.

"Tig, love, go easy on 'em. They're just testin' the waters."

"That's no excuse for 'em to be rude to ya, baby!" Tig protested. He didn't like the smirks on his daughters' faces. 'If I don't do somethin' to reign 'em in, they'll try to run right over her!'

"I'm not excusin' their behavior, love. But I do empathize with them."

"What the fuck would you know about us to empathize with us?" Fawn challenged.

"Quite a bit, darlin," Cat drawled before Tig could protest against his daughter's foul-mouthed challenge. "All from my very own experiences."

"Oh yeah?"

"I was about your age - maybe a little older - when my parents split and Daddy remarried. No matter how old they are, any step - child can't help wonderin' if the new spouse is goin' to like 'em or not. And they wonder if their parent is goin' to have as much time for 'em as before they remarried."

Fawn and Dawn gazed intently at their father's wife. They'd not anticipated she would respond to their open hostility with warmth and good humor, much less sympathize with them!

"It was hard to emotionally support my parents without takin' sides," Cat continued, evenly returning the girls' stares. "When Daddy remarried, it felt to me like my step mother's sons - who were older than me by several years - were more welcome in his life than me."

That made the girls exchange guilty looks. That was exactly what most concerned them. It was as if their father's new wife had read their minds.

"How about we go on inside and get more comfortable?" Cat inquired, opening the front door and motioning for the girls and Tig to precede her. "Better hurry inside before Ebony pulls his usual escape attempt."

The girls reluctantly followed their father inside the house while Cat kept an eagle eye out for the fleet-footed feline. The large black cat thundered to the door, only to find it closed when he got to it. "Sorry, old sock! You missed out again!"

"Is that a cat or a baby black panther?" Fawn squeaked nervously.

"It's a cat, just a very big cat," Tig assured her. "He doesn't bite, he's just very heavy when he sits on you."

Dawn bent down and held her hand out to Ebony. He sniffed her fingers, then rubbed his head against her palm in a blatant demand for attention. His purr rumbled through the room.

"I think he likes me!" Dawn exclaimed in wonder.

"He has good taste," Cat observed.

"Do you just have the one?" Fawn asked. She had also offered her hand to the large feline. He rewarded her with a lick and then butted his head against her hand.

"No, we have two others," Cat replied. "Y'all won't see much of Misty. She hides when we have new people visit."

"That Oriental potentate sittin' on the back of the recliner is 'Ming'," Tig added, pointing at the Siamese.

"He's beautiful!" Dawn breathed.

Ming blinked, then curled up with his front paws tucked under him and his tail wrapped around his body.

"They're mascots at my coffeehouse, which is behind the house on the next street," Cat explained. "I had a special room built so the customers can watch them."

"They're attention hogs," Tig grinned.

"Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable," Cat gestured to the couch."I'm just gonna check on things in the kitchen."

The girls looked around the front room, taking in the two recliners that faced each other near the picture window and the sofa. The furnishings looked comfortable and inviting. There was nothing ostentatious about the decor, nor was there Harley Davidson or other biker decor like they had seen in other club members' homes.

There were colorful paintings and framed puzzles adorned the walls. A large picture of a cat sitting in a sunbeam hung on the wall over the sofa.

"Wanna see the rest of the house?" Tig asked his daughters. He could see they were curious about his new environment and wanted them to feel welcome.

"Sure!" They responded in unison. Not only were they curious about their father's home, they knew their mother would insist on details.

Tig led his daughters on a brief tour, pointing out the library filled with books, records, and videos. The stereo was playing instrumental music. The girls were impressed that the stereo system was kept in the library while the speakers piped music to the main part of the house.

The hallway leading to the library, office, and bedrooms was decorated with framed pictures. The girls could tell that most of the pictures were of Cat and her family, including one of her first husband.

"Who's that dude?" Fawn inquired.

"That's Bill, Cat's first husband. He was murdered some time ago. That's why she moved here."

"He looks like a Chink." Dawn observed.

Tig tapped his daughter on the butt. "He's not a Chink or a Gook. He was born in Korea - "

"So he married her for a green card!" Dawn chortled. "I can see why from some of those pictures of her!"

"What the Hell is wrong with you, Dawnie?" Tig growled angrily. "You're talkin' like your mother and I don't like it!"

Dawn pouted at the insult. She didn't mind physical comparisons to her mother, but being told she was sounding like the shrew was a different matter.

"Both of you are actin' like a couple of spoiled brats, and I'm not gonna put up with it!" Tig snarled. "Cat is my wife. Ya don't have to love her, or even like her, but you're gonna treat her with respect. You got that?"

"Yeah," Dawn muttered mutinously. Fawn only nodded, stunned by the vehemence in her father's defense of his wife. Her eyes widened as her gaze settled on a picture of the two of them with Tig hanging on the wall close to the master bedroom.

"Is that us?" She breathed.

"Who do you expect?" Tig retorted, waving his hand at other pictures of his children that they'd overlooked.

"Did you put them up, Daddy?" Fawn asked.

"Nope. Cat did. She scanned a few of my photos and made larger copies to put on the wall," he explained. "There's also a framed one on the table on my side of the bed," Tig informed them.

"She did that?" Dawn whispered. "Why? She doesn't even know us!"

"I asked her the same thing, baby girl. She said because you're her family, too," Tig explained.

Dawn felt as confused as her sister about their father's wife. Colleen had prepped them to face the wickedest witch of all wicked witches. Instead they found a human being who seemed to understand their feelings and wanted them to feel included. They were in for another surprise when they saw Missy's picture in the center of the pet memorial pictures in the office. Despite the sudden insight, neither Fawn nor Dawn were ready to welcome her into their family with open arms. Their mothers' warnings continued to echo in their minds during the meal.

Alex worried about his daughters' reactions to having the cats mooch treats during the meal. He didn't worry about Misty; she'd hidden under the bed the minute she heard the girls' voices. Cat surprised him by enticing Ebony and Ming into the garage and locking the cat door.

"Are ya sure you wanna do that, baby?" Alex whispered.

"I'm sure, love. Your daughters aren't used to the antics of pets at the table."

"But this is their house!" He protested.

"Your daughters are more important, love. The furbabies will get over their snit the minute they get fed," Cat assured him.

Alex felt that familiar rush of warmth spread over him. He still couldn't get over the many quiet ways she would support him and put his needs first.

There were no uncomfortable silences around the dinner table. The girls asked many questions that sometimes bordered on rude, but Cat answered them without hesitation. Not only did she honestly answer their questions about Bill, she told them about the coffeehouse, her love of motorcycles and cats, her likes in music, and about growing up as a preacher's kid.

Tig contributed to the conversation as often as possible by sharing his favorite stories about the girls' childhoods. e felt it was only fair that they contribute as much as they were asking Cat to share. He managed to get them to laugh out loud when he mentioned the day Cat had marched across the street with her baseball bat to confront him. "Just because I'd been sittin' across the street on the Dyna to watch the renovations on the coffeehouse!"

"Did you really do that, Cat?" Dawn inquired, gazing at her with a bit of respect.

"She sure as Hell did!" Tig laughed. "She can look pretty menacing when she wants to!"

"What'd you do, Daddy?" Fawn asked.

"He took off as fast as that Dyna would take him," Cat smirked.

"I merely felt it was a good idea to leave before ya struck first and asked questions later!" Tig protested.

"Sure you did, Daddy!" They chorused in a teasing way.

Tig suggested the girls help Cat clean up after dinner while he went out back to t smoke. Both of the girls trooped out the back door after their father.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Why don't you two help clean up?" Alex stood in the doorway to prevent their exit.

"We want to talk to you, Daddy," Fawn replied.

"Alone," Dawn added, glaring over her shoulder at Cat.

"That makes sense," Cat replied calmly before Alex could explode. "All girls want a little time with Daddy without another woman present." She nodded her head slightly at her husband, indicating that she wasn't upset by the girls' behavior.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose while the girls continued out to the back yard. "I'm sorry about this, baby," he sighed.

"Go be with your girls, love. They need you more than I do," she assured him.

"Thanks, baby," he sighed before turning to follow his daughters.

Cat shook her head as she cleared the table. As much as she understood the reason for the girls' antipathy for her, it didn't make their behavior any less hurtful. 'The only thing that makes this bearable is the hope that the girls get a little closer to their father.'

Alex stormed out to the lawn chairs where his daughters were already lounging. He lit a cigarette, inhaled a deep draught of smoke, exhaled, and roared, "Start talkin'!"

"About what, Daddy?" Dawn asked innocently.

"You both know what about!" Alex growled. "Why are you two takin' such a hard-line against Cat?"

"What hard line?" Fawn asked. "We're just trying to get to know her!"

"That seemed more like an interrogation to me!" He retorted, taking another deep inhale on his cigarette.

"Nobody held a gun to her head to make her answer anything!" Dawn pointed out.

"Yeah!" Fawn spoke up. "She could've chosen not to answer anything she didn't want to!"

"Uh, huh!" Alex snorted disbelievingly. "And if she'd not answered you, both of you would've held it against her." He took another deep inhale and added, "Dammit! Cat's not tryin' to take your mother's place!"

"We wouldn't let her, anyway," Dawn muttered.

"Why did you choose her anyway, Daddy?" Fawn added. "She's not as appealing as Mom or Mama Gemma!"

"And that attire she's wearin'! Doesn't reveal anything!" Dawn snickered. "She was a cow in some of those pictures, and what about those thick glasses?"

"Honestly, Daddy! Did you marry her because you got her pregnant?" Fawn chuckled.

"That's enough!" Alex roared, walking a few feet from his daughters before he did something he'd regret. He clinched his fists to his sides in frustration. He took a deep breath to calm himself and continued, "Listen, girls. Good looks are OK, but sometimes it's not enough for a man. Your mother was easy on the eyes, and look how that turned out."

The girls exchanged uneasy glances. They were used to their father's temper and were prepared for him to blow a gasket. Hearing the pain in his voice from their unkind comments about his wife made them uncomfortable.

"Not that it's any of your business, but Cat can't get preggers, and not because of her age!" Alex continued. "She's got a lot goin' for her where it counts. Isn't it enough that she makes my life better by bein' a part of it? She just wants you to be a part of my life, too."

"Hah! She's just makin' nice with us to get in good with you!" Dawn spat.

Alex's eyes narrowed with anger. He wasn't angry at his daughters because he knew that wasn't Dawn talking. That was Colleen. 'Damn that gash! She's really poisoned my girls' minds! Cat never had a chance!'

"Do you two really think I'm that dumb?" He asked angrily.

"What do you mean, Daddy?" Dawn inquired.

"Lemme tell ya both somethin'," Alex turned to gaze intently at his daughters. "I didn't even know you two were comin' until I got home and Cat told me about it. She said it was time for the three of us to start actin' like a family!"

"Just the three of us?" Fawn echoed in disbelief. "What about her?"

"The three of us for now," Tig replied.

Fawn and Dawn exchanged knowing looks. 'It figures!' The simultaneous thought flew through their minds.

"How many times do I have to remind ya Cat is part of the family now?" Tig growled. "She wanted to give us a chance to get to know each other again!"

'How nice of her!' Dawn thought snidely. She kept her expression from betraying her unkind thoughts. 'As far as I'm concerned, that woman's never going to be part of my family!'

"I've missed you girls," Tig continued. "I dunno how things got so screwed up between us since the divorce."

"Why did you quit coming to see us?" Fawn asked softly.

"I thought that was what ya wanted. Every time I didn't make it to an event, you both got more disappointed in me. I couldn't bear it when you both gave me the cold shoulder, so I decided to limit my visits to twice a year," Alex admitted hoarsely.

The two girls exchanged an uncomfortable glance. They wanted so much to be a part of his life, but they were afraid to open themselves up to being let down again. They missed him more than they wanted to admit.

"We thought you cared more about the club than you did for us," Dawn stated softly.

"Never, baby. The club is important to me, but you two are more important. Always will be," Alex insisted brokenly. He knew instinctively where the girls had gotten that idea. He'd heard that same line and phrasing from Colleen plenty of times before the divorce.

Tears streamed down the girls' cheeks as they leapt from the chairs and ran to their father to embrace him. His arms wrapped protectively around them, gathering them close. They tearfully apologized for past transgressions and reaffirmed their love for each other.

---

Cat leaned back against the chair in her home office, content that the money transfer to Colleen's account was completed without her having to drive all over town. 'Makes me glad to live in the internet age!' She observed. 'Tomorrow I can repay the loan and put the funds back in the medical account without wearin' myself out!'

She saved the latest addition to the Excel spreadsheet that tracked all the payments she'd made to Colleen and closed the file. She'd started the spreadsheet the day she made the first payment to Tig's ex for her own safety and comfort. It was just another insurance policy similiar to her tendency to record certain in person and phone conversations. 'Better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it!'

She didn't expect to hear anything from either of Alex's daughters before the first delivery to Stockton. Fortunately, she already had Chuckie to aid her that coming Sunday. 'I wonder if Chuckie would consider helpin' out on a permanent basis, in case the girls don't accept my offer?' She made a note on her iPhone to ask him that coming Sunday.

She suddenly realized that she'd have less visitation time with Alex if both or just one of his daughters accepted her offer. Then she felt a twinge of guilt for the thought. "I don't begrudge them an opportunity to visit Alex. It's not like we're goin' to be able to get a lot of privacy in the visitin' room, anyway!" She could always bring her Kindle and read while Alex visited with his daughters. "Bobby, Happy, or Juice might appreciate a visitor, for that matter!'

Then it occurred to her that neither of Alex's daughters might accept, provided Colleen passed the message along. "She's just mean-spirited enough to take the money and not deliver the message, just to hurt Alex some more! She certainly showed her ass the first time I met his daughters!'

Cat had anticipated that her first meeting with Alex's daughters would be difficult. She hadn't expected to meet the type of hurdles she'd cleared that night."Whew!" She sighed as the back door slid shut behind Alex. "I don't think I could've held out much longer!" It had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep calm in the face of their hostility. She concentrated on the goal of the evening, to begin to bridge the large gap that emotionally separated Alex and his daughters.

She cleared the dining room table, then let the cats out of the garage. Ebony and Ming raced into the kitchen, flipping their tails in disdain before stuffing their faces into their food bowls. Cat petted their backs, then put leftovers in the refrigerator, rinsed the dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher.

She didn't usually drink, but she poured a small amount of Jack Daniels in a glass of ice and Coke Zero. She took the glass to the kitchen table and sat down so that she could watch her husband and step daughters. She felt a surge of joy when she saw the girls run into their father's arms.

"It's a step in the right direction for them!" She remarked to the cats. They looked up from their food bowls, blinked at her, then returned to their meal.

"Message taken, kids," she laughed, getting up from her chair and grabbing her drink. Alex and his daughters didn't need an audience.

She frowned at the flare of headlights in the front window. She glanced at the clock and winced at the time. 'That must be Colleen come to pick up the girls. They said they couldn't stay long.' She debated whether to meet the woman outside, or let her come to the door. 'She's goin' to take offense no matter what I do; might as well keep it outside." She set her drink down on a side table, opened the front door, and slipped out before Ebony could make another escape attempt. She leaned against the porch railing as Colleen got out of her car.

Colleen's eyes narrowed in annoyance and anger at the sight of the woman leaning nonchalantly against the front porch railing. She hoped to talk to Tig before taking the girls home. There was no sign of her daughters nor her ex, just the new wife. 'What a hag!' She thought triumphantly, mentally comparing her looks to her rival's. 'No amount of money is worth beddin' that!'

Cat could tell that Alex's ex wasn't very happy to see her. She straightened her shoulders and held out her hand as the woman approached, determined to be friendly despite the waves of hositlity radiating off the woman. "Hey! Y'all must be Colleen," she spoke in a welcoming manner. "It's nice to finally meet y'all!"

"Can't say the same to you!" Colleen hissed. "Where the Hell are my daughters?"

Cat's right eyebrow disappeared into her bangs. "They're out in the back yard with Tig," she replied evenly, dropping her hand to her side. "You're more than welcome to go through the house."

"I'd rather not! Probably smells like a litter box!" Colleen snorted contemptuously. She strode along the driveway to the back gate, pushed it open, and stepped into the back yard. Her anger and annoyance increased when she spied her children sobbing in their father's arms.

"What the fuck did that bitch say to you two?" Colleen snarled, marching up to the trio and glaring at her ex.

"Back off, Colleen!" Tig growled. "Cat had nothin' to do with this. The girls and I have worked a few things out between us."

"How precious!" She sneered. "Visiting time is over! I'm ready to go home, NOW!" She grabbed both girls by the shoulders and pulled them out of their father's embrace.

"Mom! That hurts!" Dawn cried.

"You don't have to be such a bitch about it!" Fawn added, glaring daggers at her mother.

"Don't you dare call me that!" Colleen hissed, raising her hand to slap Fawn.

Tig protectively stepped in front of Fawn so that the slap landed on his shoulder instead of his daughter's face. "You will not hit my daughters in my yard!" He snarled.

"If they're going to disrespect me, they aren't going to be making a return visit!" Colleen screamed. "Not while they're living under my roof!"

'I won't be living under your roof much longer, Mommie Dearest!' Fawn thought to herself. "Why'd you have to show up so early, anyway?" She cried.

Colleen shoved her daughters towards the gate. "I told you if you didn't text me by a certain time I'd come after you! It's time to go home, so move it!"

The girls glanced over their shoulders in shared misery at their father. Colleen snorted in frustration as she shepherded them through the gate and on to her car.

Cat shook her head and continued leaning against the front porch railing after Colleen stormed away. It wasn't difficult to hear the woman's diatribe from the back yard. 'I hope the neighbors don't hear it and think we're havin' a ruckus!' Minutes later, both Fawn and Dawn trudged reluctantly to the car while Colleen muttered angrily behind them.

Cat lifted her hand in a friendly goodbye wave, but the girls didn't return the gesture. They kept their attention on the car and piled into the back seat. Colleen continued her verbal harangue and cast a few dirty glances over her shoulder at Cat.

"Guess I should consider myself lucky that I can't hear what she's sayin'!' She observed dryly, watching the car speed away from the house.

She returned inside and picked up her drink, carrying it out to the back yard. She had a feeling that Alex needed it more than she did. Tig remained standing where his daughters left him until the sound of screeching tires announced their departure. He trudged to close the gate, then sank into one of the vacated lawn chairs. He slumped over so that his knees supported his elbows and rested his head in his hands.

The sight of Alex's dejected pose tore at her heart. She quietly walked to the vacant chair next to him and set the drink on the table between the chairs. She sat down and laid a tentative hand on his back. "I'm sorry, love," she murmured.

"Nothin' to apologize for," he muttered brokenly.

"I brought y'all a drink, figured you could use it," she stated softly, distressed by the catch in his voice. "I'll just go on inside and leave y'all alone."

"Don't go!" He breathed, reaching up to capture her hand in his. "I'm not upset with you, baby. Just with the way the evening ended."

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't have ended this way if I hadn't of caused it in the first place!" She snorted. "I just should've kept my nose outta your family business and left things alone!"

"No!" Alex retorted. "I don't wanna hear that shit!"

"It's the truth! Hell, y'all wouldn't be hurtin' right now if not for me!"

"Colleen caused this. You, woman, made it possible for me to get close to my girls again when I thought it was impossible! Shut the fuck up about havin' fucked up!" He growled.

"Frackin' Neanderthal!" She muttered affectionately.

"Damn straight, woman!" He grinned, pressing her hand against his mouth and then against his chest. He looked over to her, then at the drink on the table. He reached across with his free hand to toss the drink down his throat. "Yuck! Ya watered it down!"

"No, I added some Coke Zero to it. I had planned to drink it myself," she explained.

"I thought you were puttin' on an act in there," he observed dryly. "They were startin' to get to ya, weren't they?"

"I knew they wouldn't take to me right away, but didn't think they'd be that hostile," she admitted reluctantly. "Maybe I should've made them feel a little more welcome."

"Are ya nerts, woman?" Alex howled. "Ya did everything but bend over and spread 'em wide open for fuck's sake! Considerin' the way they talked to you, I'm surprised you didn't scalp 'em!"

"It was tempting, but they're not mine to scalp," she remarked wryly.

"I told 'em off for disrespectin' ya!"

"I wish y'all hadn't, love," she sighed. "It'll just make 'em that much more reluctant to make a return visit."

Alex gazed at her in astonishment. "You'd be willin' to have 'em back again?"

"They're part of our family," she shrugged. "Of course I'd have 'em back, any time y'all want 'em over!"

Alex set the empty glass on the table, making Cat wince at the hard contact. He glared at her and growled, "Don't be sayin' what ya think I wanna hear, woman!"

Cat glared at him, unable to believe he was accusing her of such a thing. "I've had people castin' aspersions on my motives all damn day, and I'm frackin' sick and tired of it! Believe whatever the Hell y'all want to believe! All y'all do, anyway!" She wrenched her hand out of his, leapt out of the chair and stormed off towards the house. "It really hurts when you question my motives!"

She reached out to open the door only to find herself being spun around to face him. 'Shit! I forgot he could move so fast!' She glared defiantly at him, her eyes blazed like emeralds in the porch light.

Alex realized right away that he'd said the wrong thing. Her reaction only cemented the knowledge. He flinched inwardly at the sight of the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes. "Shit! I'm sorry, baby," he stated simply. "It just sounded too good to be true, especially after the way they treated you!"

"What the Hell did you expect me to do, Alex? Tell y'all that your own flesh and blood aren't welcome in your home?"

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. His tone of voice asker what else was he to think.

"Shows how little y'all really know me, then," she replied brokenly.

"I'm sorry, baby," he repeated sincerely. "Look, all I know about this kinda shit is what I experienced. I was booted out of the house even though I was decent to the step - parent! Why should I expect things to be any different now?"

"Because history doesn't always repeat itself!" Cat grumbled. "For cryin' out loud, Alex! Have I ever said or done anything since we've been together just because I knew it was what y'all wanted?"

Alex's hand caressed the bridge of his nose. "Hah! I wish!"

"Then why the Hell would I start now?" She retorted. Though she wanted to nurse her aggravation at him, a small, reluctant grin lit her face.

"Does that mean you're not mad at me now?" He asked, reaching out a finger to trace the small smile.

She opened her mouth and nipped the finger caressing her lips.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Why the fuck did ya do that?" He yelped, shaking the injured digit.

"For pissin' me off," she remarked. "You aren't the only member of this family that can bite, mister! I just didn't draw blood - this time!"

He grinned sheepishly at her. "I guess I deserved that, baby. Are we friends again?"

"I'll think on it and let y'all know!" She snorted teasingly, slipping inside the back door.

Alex followed her inside, a severe frown darkening his features. He went around the house, checking to make sure everything was secure. When he was satisfied that everything was locked up for the night, he set his sights on insuring that he was back in her good graces.

---

Ima sat outside her apartment on the balcony, watching the sun come up and drinking coffee. She was thinking about the previous night, and the things she'd learned from Kozik.

He was fatigued and had come home much earlier than she expected. She was working on her internet studies when he trudged into the apartment. She watched him shrug out of his cut and hang in the closet, noting how it seemed that every movement took a great deal of effort. He shuffled across the room to the sofa, bending down to give her a hello kiss and nearly fell into her lap.

"Sorry, baby," he muttered, walking his hands up onto the arm of the sofa to resume an upright position.

"I'm not complaining!" She replied, saving her course work and shutting down the computer.

"Don't stop what you're doin' on my account," Kozik informed her, stumbling to the kitchen to retrieve a beer.

"I was at a stopping point, anyway," she assured him. "That's one of the good things about taking classes on line; it's done on my schedule, not the school's!"

He grunted a response while he opened the beer and tossed the cap in the trashcan. He took a long, satisfying pull from the bottle.

"I hear tell it was a tough day," Ima stated, pointing at the dark television screen.

"Yeah," Kozik shambled back to the sofa and flopped down beside her. He exhaled noisily as he settled into a comfortable position.

"Need to talk about it?"

"How much was on the news?" He asked.

"Took up the entire first segment. The lead story was that Agent Stahl and someone named Jimmy O'Phelan are dead and Stahl was going to be arrested by the ATF for the murder of her partner. There was also a story about the bulk of the club being taken to Stockton," Ima replied.

"Jesus Christ! Those fucktards don't miss much, do they?" Kozik sighed.

"They also had follow ups on Salazar's death, the hostage situation, and CPD closing," Ima continued.

"Nothin' like a slow news day!"

"No kidding! What can you tell me about all that?" Ima asked.

"The good news is that I'll be stayin' around for the next 14 months, baby," he informed her. "SAMCRO is gonna need bodies while the guys are inside."

Ima felt a thrill of excitement and relief rush through her. He wouldn't be leaving her to go back to Tacoma! She kept her expression neutral and replied, "I imagine so."

She couldn't keep her eyes from sparkling with delight, which made Kozik grin in spite of his fatigue. "A lot of people convinced me the 'hardship clause' isn't a bitch way into gettin' my SAMCRO patch. Even Tig worked on me about it this mornin'. I think he's expectin' Opie will make me actin' SAA."

"I would've thought Piney would be in charge. He's one of the founders and has the most experience!" Ima frowned.

"True, but he's not physically up to it; he's barely done enough to keep his patch. Clay made the decision, prolly to see how well Ope will do as Jax's VP when the time comes."

"Oh," Ima replied meekly. "Guess I've got a lot to learn!"

Kozik reached out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. "Don't worry about it, baby. Ya made a good observation based on what ya knew. Can't fault ya for it. Nor will I."

Ima rubbed her cheek against his knuckles, then captured his hand in hers. "How much of what happened were you involved with, lover?"

"Just the thing with Stahl and O'Phelan," he replied, taking another long pull on his beer bottle. He related about the club pulling a 'money sandwich' on Putlova to get Jimmy O, and the agreement Jax had made with Stahl with the club's full knowledge. "That's why the guys are only gonna do 14 months for the assault on that Christain Center a few weeks back, and Gemma's gettin' an easy sentence for killin' Polly Zobelle."

"Wow! That part about Gemma wasn't on the news!" Ima exclaimed. "Do the other old ladies know what really went down?"

"You're really more concerned about Tig's woman, aren't ya?" Kozik grinned slyly. "He gave Chibs somethin' to give Cat this evenin'. Jax wrote letters to Gem and Tara, so they should know by now."

"Good. I'm glad they're not being left in the dark. Gemma doesn't need another set back," Ima mused. "Are you all right?"

He smiled tiredly at her. "Just worn out, baby. I didn't pull the trigger on Stahl, if that's what you're worried about."

"I wasn't, but thanks for reassuring me," she replied softly. "I have no love for Stahl after what she did to LuAnn!"

"Yeah, I heard about that, along with that gash's other transgressions!"

"Koz, something just occurred to me. What's to keep the Feds from going back on the agreement Jax made with Stahl now that she's dead?"

Kozik frowned and set the empty bottle on the table. He'd been thinking about that and was a little surprised that Ima had considered it. 'Means she does care about what happens to the club!' He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her close to him. "Let's hope that doesn't happen, baby."

The morning newspaper lay untouched on her lap. It was basically a rehash of the news from the previous night. The only new item was that the ATF would hold a press conference later in the day about Agent Stahl. 'I wonder what that will mean for the club, and for Gemma?'

Kozik walked out onto the balcony, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and shading his eyes with the other against the morning sun. "Mornin', baby. You're up early."

"Sometimes I like to watch the sunrise," she assured him. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course," he murmured, bending down to give her a kiss. He settled into the chair next to hers, stretching his legs as far as the balcony allowed. "Kinda nice lookin' view - both of 'em!" He grinned.

"You're quite an animal!" She smiled.

"Anything new in that?" He pointed to the newspaper.

"Just that the Feds are holding a news conference later about Stahl," she replied, passing the paper to him.

Kozik set his coffee cup down and skimmed the article. It didn't tell him what he needed to know. He frowned and tossed the paper onto the floor. "Guess nobody's too worked up about it; nobody from the club's called me."

"Like you said last night, let's hope for the best."

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna be too surprised by the worst," Kozik murmured.

---

Despite her busy and tiring day, Ally managed to find time to rework the power of attorney papers. The new ones replaced Tara with Gemma as Nate's guardian. She brought them to Gemma on her way to work the morning after she got the ankle monitor removed. "All you have to do is get him to sign them, and have a notary public witness it," Ally explained.

"Did Tara give you any flack?"

Ally shook her head. "Nope, once she knew you were off the ankle monitor. She seemed glad that you were going to take over. I think she felt that it was your place to take of your Dad instead of her."

"Good," Gemma nodded, slipping the folder in her purse. "I'm going up there today. Might be gone for a couple of days."

"I'd say you've earned a break!" Ally smiled. "Take some time to be with your Dad, Gemma. You need that."

"Don't I know it!"

Gemma packed an overnight bag, loaded it in the car, then forwarded the house calls to her cell phone in case Clay called. She drove over to Jax's house to see her grandson before she left and was surprised to find Tara's Cutlass sitting in the driveway.

"I figured you'd be at work!" Gemma announced as she walked into the house. "Where's Abel?"

"Good morning to you, too," Tara replied from the kitchen where she was pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Margaret and I have paid time off to recover from our 'ordeal. Neda and the Elyda are in the nursery with Abel."

"I'll be right back," Gemma tossed her purse on the sofa and strode down the hall to Abel's room. She nodded in response to Neda's cheerful greeting and reached out to take Abel from Elyda's arms. She held Abel close, kissing the soft down of hair on his head. "Hello, baby! Sleep well?"

"He did," Neda replied with a wide grin. She enjoyed watching Gemma's soft side come out whenever she was with her grandchild.

"Grandma has to go see your great - grandpa, so you be a good boy," Gemma cooed, reluctantly giving Abel back to the new nanny.

"How is your father?" Neda asked.

"He's confused. Feels lost and lonely."

"That's to be expected. His whole world's been swept out from under him. I'll be prayin' for him," Neda replied.

"Yeah," Gemma muttered uncomfortably. She glanced back at Abel before striding out the door and back to the living room.

"Did Ally get the papers to you?" Tara inquired.

"Yeah. Thanks for not puttin' up a fuss about it." Gemma sat down on the sofa near Tara.

"I was only going to handle Nate's affairs until you were out of jail," Tara reminded her. "Now that you're free, there's no reason for me to continue in that capacity. When do you plan to go see him?"

"I'm leaving in a few minutes. Already forwarded the house phone to my cell in case Clay calls."

"Are you going to tell Opie?" Tara frowned. "You know the guys will get nervous if you take off without telling them."

"I wasn't born yesterday, my girl!" Gemma growled. "I'm going to stop off at the compound to let them know."

"What will you do if Opie wants to send someone along to protect you?"

Gemma patted her large purse. "I've got all the protection I need."

'Shit! She's not supposed to carry one of those!' Tara shook her head and cradled her hand against her forehead.

"I know what you're thinkin'. Don't worry. The serial numbers are filed off. Chances are that I won't need it."

"I called the nursing home this morning, they said you'd called last night," Tara added. "They also said Nate's been in a bad way since we left him."

"That's why I want to go up there. He feels abandoned - "

"No wonder! One minute you're sitting outside the front door and the next you're taking off in my car!" Tara interjected huffily.

"Sorry," Gemma winced. "My head wasn't in the right place."

Tara winced, but felt it necessary to remind Gemma of the ramifications of her actions that day. "I didn't know what to think when I came outside to take you around to the back of the nursing home and found the car gone!"

"Obviously you called Jax and he picked you up," Gemma observed.

"The entire club came to the parking lot. I met them there. Jax figured out that you'd gone back to Charming."

"So it worked out in the end," Gemma shrugged. "I'll see you when I get back."

Opie wasn't at the clubhouse when Gemma pulled into the lot. Chibs and the full time mechanics were working in the garage, and Chuckie was in the office. He looked up when Gemma walked in.

"You're not supposed to be here!" He squeaked.

Gemma pointed to her leg and the missing ankle monitor. "I'm free, darlin'. The US attorney dropped the sentence because of Stahl."

"I accept that!"

"You'd better," she grumbled. "Where's Ope and the others?"

"No one else has reported in," Chuckie replied. "Chibs is here. Want me to get him?"

"Nah. Tell Opie I've gone to Klamath Falls to see my dad. I'll be back in a couple of days."

"Um, are you sure you should do that?" Chuckie asked.

"Yes, I am." Gemma informed him, giving him a look that warned him not to ask any more questions.

"Oh - kay. I guess I accept that."

"You don't have any choice," Gemma retorted, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes and striding off to her SUV.

Gemma couldn't help thinking about the day she'd taken her father to the nursing home. While Tara went inside to report their arrival, she'd sat outside with Nathan, trying to help him understand why he had to live there. He'd cried and begged to go home, which had torn at Gemma's heart. He'd struggled feebly when Tara and the doctor had come out to escort him inside, still pleading to be allowed to go home.

Gemma couldn't bear to watch him being led away and fled to the car. Tara had given her the keys in case she wanted to sit and listen to the radio while she was getting Nate settled in. Gemma sat in the driver's seat, smoking and trying to calm down. The wanted poster Amelia, her father's caregiver, had printed fell out of her purse. Gemma had stared at the poster for a long time before she decided to call the ATF and make arrangements with Agent Stahl to turn herself in. Then she'd taken off for Charming, forgetting all about Tara and her father.

'Damn you, Rose! Why couldn't you have arranged for someone to stay at the house with him?' Gemma fumed to herself. She lit another cigarette, inhaled, and allowed a plume of smoke to billow through her nose.

Much as she didn't want to, Gemma had to admit her mother had done the best thing for her father. While it would've been possible to have a caregiver stay full time with Nate the way Amelia had, it would've been expensive and would've eaten up his savings.

'Rose did her homework; she knew if he had no assets, that Medicare would pay his full way at the nursing home. That's why she arranged things the way she did. She did what she had to do.'

The only other alternative would've been to bring Nate to Charming to live with her, and that would've never worked. Her father had barely tolerated John, and he'd been against her marriage to Clay after JT died.

'Not only would Daddy and Clay have been at odds, but Daddy wouldn't have been happy in Charming. He's been away too long and everybody he knew is gone. The only people who would've remembered him were Wayne, Floyd, and Lumpy. There's no guarantee that he would've remembered them!'

The nursing home was well known in the region for its' work with Altzheimer's patients. That was the other reason Rose had chosen it. 'I just hope Daddy's depression hasn't gotten so deep that I can't bring him out of it!'

She decided to stick with the story she'd given the nurse the night before. It was a partial truth; there was no need to burden her father with details he wouldn't understand. 'Besides, the news might be enough to shock him out of his doldrums!'

---

Chuckie rushed into the garage as soon as Gemma walked out the office door to her SUV. He normally hollered out the door connecting the garage to the office when he needed one of the club members. He took the more direct route in order to let Chibs know of Gemma's plans before she could leave the compound.

"Whut aire ye doin' in 'ere!" Chibs hollered. "Ye kin it isnae sayfe!"

"Gemma's leaving town!" Chuckie announced, pointing out the moving SUV. "She said she's going back to Klamath Falls to see her dad!"

"Shite!" Chibs rushed to the entrance of his bay in time to see the back of Gemma's SUV turn out of the gate. "Why didnae ye stop 'er?"

"Have you ever tried to prevent Gemma from doing something she's set her mind on doing?" Chuckie asked dryly.

"Aye, Ah kin whut ye mean," Chibs sighed, digging his cell from his pants pocket. "Ah'll tayke cair o' this."

"I accept that," Chuckie grinned, scampering back into the office.

Chibs held the cell to his ear, waiting for an answer from the number he'd dialed for the SAMRRO President.

"StoneCoyote here. Who's this?"

"Chibs. SAMCRO."

"What's up, brother?"

"We need ye ta keep an eye oot fer Gem. She's headed yer way," Chibs replied.

"Thought she was on home detention!" StoneCoyote growled. "We don't need law enforcement trouble up here! Not after that mess with the peckerwoods!"

"Relax, laddie!" Chibs grunted. "She's bin released frum tha'. She's goin' up thair ta see 'er Da."

"Do ya expect trouble?"

"Nay, boot Gem 'as a tendency o' findin' trouble," Chibs replied. "Thair's also sum bad blud wi' tha Russians an' us. Ifn Putlova gits wurd tha' Gem's in the North, 'e myte try sumthin', so ifn ye culd see yer way clear ta meetin' up wi' 'er whair we drop oof tha goons, we'd appreciate it."

"No worries, bro," StoneCoyote sighed. "We've got this."

"Tha's whut Ah wuz 'opin' ta 'ear," Chibs grinned.

"Do ya need bodies down there? Heard the news about the officers, Happy, and Juice."

"We're OK. Kozik's patchin' in unner tha' 'ardship clause. Sum o' tha Nomads aire comin' oot," Chibs assured the SAMRRO leader.

"Let us know when you're ready for the next run," StoneCoyote replied, shutting off the cell to end the conversation.

Chibs stuffed his cell phone back in his pocket and gave Chuckie the thumbs up to indicate everything was OK. Chuckie grinned and returned to his work while Chibs returned to the vehicle he was working on. 'Ah'm glad 'tisn't me who 'as ta tell Clay aboot this!'

---

The imprisoned SAMCRO members gathered together for the noon meal, settling down at 'their' table. Only Tig wasn't surprised to have Jax serve him. He grinned at the sight of the hair net covering the VP's long blonde hair.

"What the fuck is he doin' on KP duty?" Clay asked Tig as they sat down.

"He was 'sposed to join me in the wood shop, but he told the guard he wanted to work in the library or the kitchen," Tig replied, sticking his fork in the contents of the plastic tray to make sure nothing squirmed that shouldn't move.

"Can't say I like the head gear," Juice grinned.

"Better than findin' blonde male hairs in your food!" Bobby pointed out.

"How do you tell a male hair from a female one?" Juice asked innocently.

"Don't ask questions ya don't wanna learn the answer to," Jax advised, slipping into the vacant seat to Clay's right. "Gonna go to the prison barber after lunch," he added. "Short hair will be easier to deal with in the kitchen."

"What's with that, anyway?" Clay asked his step son.

"Somebody needed to make sure no one adds extra secret spices to our food!" Jax informed his brothers. "I can keep an eye out and make sure no one tries anything funny."

"Good move," Clay grinned. "Think you can do anything about the lack of flavor?"

"Sorry guys. I'm not Superman."

"I accept that!" Tig grinned.

"A man could waste away to nothin' if he has to rely solely on the food around here!" Bobby snorted. "Makes me really look forward to commissary day!"

"Wonder why none of us were assigned to the motor pool?" Juice asked after the club had spent a few silent minutes picking at their meal.

"Are ya nuts?" Happy barked. "They prolly figured we'd do somethin' dastardly to the fleet!"

"Hah! That thought never crossed my mind!" Bobby smirked. "So what happens after this poor excuse for lunch?"

"Asked our guys on the payroll. Work assignments are handled in the mornin'. Afternoons are given over to exercise in the yard, or library time, or whatever. Evenin' is for watchin' television or films in the main hall," Clay explained.

"Never a dull moment," Tig snorted.

"Any chance we'll be able to touch base with Otto or Lenny?" Happy growled.

"Only through the lawyers," Clay announced.

"That's a crock of shit!" Tig snarled.

"It's all we've got, Tigger. We prolly won't have much need to reach out to them in here."

"Think I'll check out the library," Bobby announced. "See if they have anything of interest."

"I'll come with," Juice stated. "I'd like to see what's there."

"I don't think they have any 'Dick and Jane' primers, Juicey," Tig grinned. "But you could look at the pictures in 'National Geographic'!'

"Who the Hell are 'Dick and Jane'?" Juice frowned. "I learned to read outta those SBA color coded books!"

The older men laughed at Juice's consternation. All of them had grown up with those primers that cartoonist Johnny Hart spoofed in his B. C. comics.

"Oh! I remember seein' one of those cartoon treasuries at 'Charming Pawse'!" Juice beamed. "But I was thinkin' more along the lines of findin' some Earle Stanley Gardner."

"Gonna read up on becoming a jailhouse lawyer like Perry Mason?" Tig grunted.

"You know who Perry Mason is?"

"Hell, it's only been on television forever!" Tig grinned slyly. "Besides, we've got a leather bound collection at the house."

"And you've read 'em?" Juice asked in disbelief.

"Can't read 'Playboy' all the time, Juicey," Tig retorted, getting up from the table to follow Clay and Happy out of the mess hall.

"He missed the joke," Juice huffed to Bobby. "I'm surprised he bothers to read at all."

"Why, Juicey!" Bobby hooted, pretending to be shocked. "Don't ya know all men get 'Playboy' to read the articles?"

"I do now!" Juice laughed.

"Keep that in mind," Jax advised. "It'll come in handy if your old lady ever catches ya with one in the house."

"If I ever get one!" Juice moaned.

---

Gemma looked up in her rear view mirror and frowned at the sight of a pair of Harleys behind her Cadillac. 'I hope these aren't rival club members out to cause trouble!'

She slid her hand over to her purse that lay in the passenger seat, making sure her gun was easily accessible. She continued to glance from the outer and inner rear view mirrors as one of the Harleys raced past her vehicle and pulled in front so she could see the rocker on his back.

Gemma relaxed when she saw the three piece rocker with the Reaper and the 'Oregon' designation. "Must be the 'Rogue River' chapter. Chuckie must've ratted me out to Chibs!"

The rider in front of her signaled for Gemma to follow him off the highway at the next exit. She flashed her brights to indicate she understood. She followed the rider into the parking lot of a truck stop a few yards from the off ramp. The other SAMRRO rider parked behind her SUV.

The rider that had pulled in front of Gemma's vehicle walked up as she opened the front door. "I'm Tommy Gunn," he introduced himself. "From 'SAMRRO'. And yeah, that's my real name."

"YI know. You're one of the boys who guarded Cat while she was in the hospital," Gemma acknowledged.

"The same," the other rider grinned. "Sleeved Biker at your service."

"I guess you got a call from SAMCRO about me," she huffed.

"Chibs asked us to keep an eye out for you; apparently Putlova's not real happy with the mother charter."

"Yeah," Gemma lit a cigarette and added, "Did Chibs think he'll try retaliating by hitting me?"

"We're not going to give him the chance," Tommy Gunn replied. "As far as you're concerned, we're just ridin' around and happen to come upon ya."

"That's our story and we're stickin' with it," Sleeved Biker added.

"I appreciate this, but really don't want to put you out," Gemma stated. "Especially when I get to Klamath Falls."

"No worries, Gem. Tommy, give her our phone numbers."

Tommy scrawled the numbers on a piece of paper and passed it to Gemma. "Relax, we won't be hangin' around ya while you're in Klamath. There's a couple of good places we can hang out and still reach ya in a moment's notice."

"We'll rent rooms at a decent hotel just outside KF," Sleeved Biker added. "It's off the main drag, so you'll be safe. We won't have to stand guard outside like we did at Rogue River."

"I accept that," Gemma grinned in relief. She really had no choice in the matter, but the bikers were trying to accomodate her wishes. Besides, she'd have a much easier time at the nursing home without two club members hanging around.

---

"You did the right thing, brother," Opie remarked when Chibs told him he'd called Rogue River to keep an eye on Gemma. "With Putlova out of jail and pissed, we can't afford to take any chances."

"Aye," Chibs sighed. "Ah'll be glad win tha' Nomads joyne us. We need tha' manpoower."

"No shit!" Opie sighed.

They looked up at the sound of a Harley engine pulling into the compound. Piney had finally decided to show up. "Come on into the chapel when Kozik gets here. I want to talk to Dad for a minute."

"Aye," Chibs nodded, clapping his acting Prez on the shoulder. He watched Opie stride across the lot towards Piney, who was just dismounting from his trike.

"Hey, Dad. Can we talk?"

"Sure. You can buy me a tequila," Piney rumbled, placing his helmet on the seat before removing his oxygen tank from the holder built into the back of his trike.

Chibs watched father and son walk into the clubhouse before returning to his work. He had an idea regarding the topic Opie wanted to discuss and was glad of it. 'Gud tha' Ah'm noot tha' only un tha' wants tha' two o' 'em ta talk aboot tha sitchuaythun!'

Piney led his son into the clubhouse and ambled straight to the bar where Filthy Phil and Miles were stationed. The second he saw Piney heading towards him, Phil poured a shot of tequila for the founding member and left the bottle on the bar.

"Coffee, Ope?" Miles asked, holding up the pot invitingly.

"Definitely," He watched Miles pour a cup full and place it in front of him. "Don't you two have someplace to be?"

Miles and Filthy exchanged glances, then looked back at him.

"You're supposed to help with the clean up at Lumpy's Gym. Cat's expectin' ya!" He growled. "Get movin'!"

Miles drained his coffee, wincing as the hot liquid scalded his throat. He scampered after the retreating Phil. Piney grinned at their rapid escape as he tilted his head back, downing the tequila in one gulp.

"What's on your mind, son?" He inquired while pouring another shot.

Opie gazed dubiously at the tequila bottle before answering. "I just wanted to make sure you're a'right about me serving as acting Pres. I can step down and let you take over if you aren't."

Piney slugged back the second shot and stared at his son. "Why would ya do that?"

"You've got more tenure in the club, Pa," Opie explained. "You're also first nine. That means something. I dunno why Clay put me in charge -"

"I do." Piney interjected. "This is your time to prove yourself able to lead, son. You're Jax's best friend. There's no doubt in anyone's mind that he'll make you his VP. That's all there is to it!"

"And it's not about the tension between you and Clay?" Opie insisted.

Piney shrugged. "That prolly had somethin' to do with it, too. I don't give a shit about holdin' office and never will."

"Why?"

Piney poured another shot of tequila, turned on the bar stool and gazed at the picture of John Teller on the 'Rogue's Gallery' wall. He raised it in salute, sighed, and tossed back the liquor before turning back to his face Opie. "Because, Son, SAMCRO's been on the wrong route since JT died. I want no part in leadin' it further away from his vision."

"Does that mean I can't seek your advice?"

Piney set the glass upside down on the bar. "Of course not! You're my son. I'll always be willin' to support ya when ya need it."

Opie slid off his bar stool to step close to his father. He quickly embraced Piney, giving him the double back tap, then stepped back again as Kozik and Chibs entered the clubhouse. "Thanks, Dad."

---

Tommy Gunn and Sleeved Biker didn't part ways with Gemma until they'd checked into the hotel just outside the Klamath Falls town limits. She waved at the bikers who gave her a thumbs up before racing out of the parking lot.

Gemma stored her bag in her room, then walked back out to ther car. The first place she wanted to go to was her father's house. Though Tig and Cat had retrieved the boxes of items she wanted to save, she hoped to get some cuttings from her father's garden.

She stopped the Cadillac at the head of the driveway, gazing forlornly at the house. The new owner had moved in and was making changes to the exterior. She noticed the fence had been taken down that separated the front and back yards. "I've got a bad feelin' about this!"

She slid out of the Cadillac and crept up the driveway. She shielded her eyes with her hand to keep out the sun's glare. Gemma stepped foot on the walkway leading to the back yard, tensely watching for signs of life of the house with every step.

She stopped short, her face turning pale with shock and dismay when she rounded the corner and spotted a large hole where her father's flower garden had been. A bulldozer sat quiet in the backyard near a freshly dug up pile of earth. Mixed in with the earth were plants that had once been her father's flower garden.

"Shit! Couldn't they have saved some of the plants?" She growled, dropping her purse and rushing to the pile to see if she could salvage any of the uprooted bulbs. She knelt in front of the dirt pile, digging frantically in the dirt until she uncovered a few undamaged bulbs.

Gemma hurried back to her Cadillac and retrieved some plastic containers she'd put in the hatchback specifically for the purpose of transporting the cuttings she'd anticipated taking. She used her hands to scoop fresh dirt into the containers, gently placed the bulbs in the dirt, then covered them with more dirt.

Tears streamed down her face at the desecration done to her father's garden. It had been his refuge. It was also one of the few things they shared. Gardening gave them both a feeling of of peace and contentment. To see his work dug up and tossed aside like so much trash made her heart hurt.

"Damn you, Rose!" Gemma muttered, carrying her precious containers back to her Cadillac. She'd have to carry them into her hotel room overnight. The plants would be damaged if left out in her SUV.

"I might as well check in and get cleaned up before I visit Daddy anyway!" She remarked, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine. She was relieved that the new owners hadn't confronted her.

"I hope they don't have surveillance cameras that record, otherwise I'll have some explaining to do!" She drove away from the house, intending to never return again.

The hotel she'd picked wasn't five star, but it wasn't a dump like the one Tig and the SAMRRO club had chosen for her in Rogue River. It was clean, secure, and didn't cost much. Once she checked in and received her room key, she unloaded her car, locked the hotel room door, drew the curtains, and called the nursing home.

"This is Gemma Morrow. How's my father, Nathaniel Madoc, today?" She inquired when the duty nurse finally answered her call.

"He's still depressed and confused, Mrs. Morrow. We've been trying to reach Dr. Knowles to discuss a possible treatment with her, but she's not returned our call yet."

"Dr. Knowles doesn't have to make those decisions any longer. I'm his daughter, you can discuss them with me!" Gemma retorted.

"As long as the power of attorney names Dr. Knowles, we have to contact her," the nurse explained patiently.

Gemma wanted to scream. First the garden, now this bureaucratic bull shit! She realized this was one time when bullying wasn't going to get her anywhere. She took a deep breath and replied. "All right. I'll call Dr. Knowles and have her call you. But I'll still be over to visit my father later today!" Her mouth set in a determined line as she thought, 'Try and stop me!'

"I think that's a good idea, Mrs. Morrow," the nurse observed. "Seeing a family member right now might be the best possible treatment."

"Just don't tell him ahead of time. Let it be a surprise for him," Gemma instructed the nurse.

"As you wish," she replied. "If there's nothing else, I really have to attend to my duties."

"Thank you," Gemma snorted, catching herself at the last minute so she wouldn't slam the phone onto the receiver. She paced the length of the room a few minutes, then placed a call to Neda.

"What's up, Gemma?" Neda asked worriedly.

"Where's Tara? The nursing home's been tryin' to reach her," Gemma replied tartly.

"She's taking a nap," Neda explained. "Is anything wrong?"

"Have her call the nursing home right away," Gemma instructed. "Dad's fine, they just need to discuss some kind of treatment with her. They won't talk to me about it as long as she's the only person on the official POA."

"I'll tell her now," Neda promised.

Gemma snapped her cell closed and passed the length of the room a few times. She felt filthy and annoyed. 'Nothing a good shower won't fix. I want to be calm when I see Daddy."

---

'Charles Schultz had it right when he wrote, 'I love mankind, it's people I can't stand!' Cat observed to herself. She was driving the Challenger to Lumpy's Gym. She'd already been to his bank to deposit the insurance check and to sign the paperwork officially giving her authority to handle the account. There hadn't been any trouble for her with that task, but paying off the large loan had been a different matter. Though the loan office accepted the payment, the loan officer that helped her had been surprised by the immediate repayment. "There's barely been any interest accrue!" The officer protested.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Cat inquired icily.

"N - no, ma'am! It's not a problem. We've never had anyone repay a loan in full so soon after taking it out."

"So? There's a first time for everything, isn't there?" She challenged.

"I suppose so."

"Then I'll see y'all the next time I have a need for money," she replied, handing over the bulging envelope of money to the stunned loan officer.

"Let me give you your receipt!" He replied as he opened the envelope and withdrew the cash. He hurriedly counted it, then his fingers flew over the computer keyboard.

"Was it all there?" Cat couldn't help asking, watching the laser printer spit out the receipt.

"Yes ma'am!" He ripped the receipt from the printer and handed it over to her. "Thanks for your business, Mrs. Trager," he stated. "Come back any time."

"I'll give it all the due consideration it merits."

The loan officer's reaction to her full repayment of the loan was mild compared to Colleen's earlier behavior. She could understand the loan officer's response to the situation. Colleen's continued hostility to her annoyed her.

Cat wasn't the type of person who took delight in causing another person trouble just because a relationship had ended. As far as she was concerned, it was best to let the other person go and get on with life. The closest she'd ever come to behaving like a total shrew was when 'Brownie' betrayed her. His abrupt departure hadn't prevented her from thinking up various revenge scenarios that were never carried out. They did make her feel better.

She'd seen firsthand the pain such behavior could cause. Her mother, the late Mrs. Humphries, had delighted in causing distress for her father during the first few years after their divorce. Those shenanigans came to an end when her father accepted a new assignment within the conference and moved away from their last shared parsonage.

'Mother really got pissed at me for refusin' to give her his new contact info! It was a real quiet six months until she got over her snit for tellin' her to get on with her life and let Daddy get on with his.'

Cat herself had experienced such treatment when she ended the relationship with the drunken dope fiend. The constant phone calls from him and his family begging her to take him back led her to change her telephone number. Though he didn't stalk her, she opted to move from the apartment they'd shared so he wouldn't show up at her door. After she married Bill, it was easier for her to hide in plain sight, and he gave up trying to find her.

The one thing that made the deliberate hostility from the girls and outright viciousness from Colleen bearable was that Alex benefited from the girls' visit to their home. Dawn and Fawn made more regular phone calls to him and even occasionally visited him at the clubhouse.

Fawn surprised everyone by moving out of Colleen's house and in with her boyfriend the day after the girls visit to Charming. Cat found out about it before Alex via an angry call from Colleen. Fawn's mother accused Cat of turning Fawn against her. The diatribe was loud and expletive filled.

"If y'all wanna look for someone to blame, Colleen, best look in the mirror!" Cat snarled when the woman paused long enough to take a breath. "I've got better things to do than derail your relationship with your kids!" Cat hung up on Colleen and let her subsequent calls go to voice mail. It only took five minutes of continued ringing for Cat to turn off the ringer on her cell. She automatically deleted Colleen's messages without playing them. 'The woman has to give up eventually!'

Colleen apparently had more tenacity than Cat anticipated. When she got nowhere by calling Cat's cell, she switched to calling the house phone. Cat just let it ring and go to voice mail as well, making a mental note to delete the messages before Alex came home.

She'd just completed deleting fifty screaming, foul mouthed messages when Alex walked in the door. He slid out of his cut and hung it in the closet before striding across to greet her. Before he had a chance to kiss her, the landline rang again.

"Just let it go to voice mail, love," Cat pleaded tiredly.

"If someone's harrassin' ya, they're gonna get an earful from me!" Alex growled, snatching the phone off the table. "What?"

"It's about time, bitch!" Colleen screamed. Her voice was so loud and shrill that Alex winced and held the phone away from his ear.

"What the fuck is your problem, Colleen?" He snapped into the mouthpiece.

"As if you didn't know!"

"Humor me and spit it out!" Tig growled.

"Fawn moved out today! She's living with her boyfriend! I'm sure that bitch you married put her up to it!"

"Think again, gash!" Tig snarled. "Cat didn't say anything against ya to the girls!"

"It figures you'd take her side, you son of a bitch!" Colleen screamed. "I'm not going to put up with this shit!"

"Neither am I!" He jammed his thumb against the 'off' button and disconnected the cordless base from the phone jack.

"That's not goin' to stop her, love," Cat announced.

The other house phones immediately began ringing. "Shit!" He quickly disconnected the other landline phones, sighing with relief at the silence. "How long has this been goin' on, baby?"

"Too damn long!" Cat grumbled, rubbing her forehead with her hand.

"Lemme guess, ya called Colleen from the landline to arrange for the girls to visit," Alex grinned.

"Tain't funny, Mr. McGoo!" She growled. "I didn't expect her to act like a maniac the minute somethin' didn't go her way!"

"That's one way of puttin' it!" Alex replied.

"Most sane people would've given up by now!"

"Key word there, baby. Colleen's not exactly playin' with a full deck. I could send one of the Grim Bastards over to deal with her."

Cat shook her head. "No, love. That'll just make her worse. I have a better idea."

"You're not gonna go confront her!" Alex ordered.

"Nope. Just gonna let her keep gettin' voice mail until she gets tired of it," Cat replied airily.

"I dunno, baby. That gash can be pretty stubborn."

"So can I," she stated grimly.

"True dat," Alex laughed. He was rewarded with a digital communique from his wife that he was more than happy to affirm.

"Best not think along those lines!" Cat chided herself as she pulled the Challenger to a stop behind Ima's Toyota. She and Lumpy's employees were waiting in front of the gym for her. She climbed out of the Challenger, leaving the windows open to let more fresh air circulate in it. She wasn't concerned about any residual odor from her tryst with Alex being on her clothes. She figured the gym employees had smelled a lot worse.

"Nice wheels," one of the employees whistled appreciatively as she limped up to them.

"Thanks. Present from my husband, Tig Trager," she replied, smiling warmly at Ima. "Which one of you is Lumpy's assistant manager?"

"I am," a tall, well muscled male raised his hand and stepped forward. "Eddie Cutter. Who are you?"

"I'm Cat, Tig's wife. I assume all y'all have met Ima, Kozik's lady," she stated. Ima was wearing jeans and a t - shirt that hung loosely on her form. That hadn't kept the gym employees from staring at her like she was fresh meat and they were starved wolves. The minute Cat made it known that she was taken by a member of SAMCRO, their expressions changed to wary respect.

Ima nodded her head in grateful recognition of Cat's intervention on her behalf. She was used to men looking at her with desire, but had felt more like a bug under a microscope around those men. Their demeanor suddenly grew more respectful of her, and she relaxed considerably.

"Sorry I was late, had some business to attend to," Cat murmured.

"Thanks for what you said there. I was getting a little uncomfortable, and that's a new one on me! I think a couple of those guys recognized me from the videos."

"One of the down sides to stardom they never mention," Cat murmured wryly. "They'll leave y'all alone now that they know you're Kozik's old lady."

Eddie Cutter unlocked the door and held it open for the women. Cat and Ima walked into the entry and halted just inside the door. Ima gave a little gasp of dismay at the devastation to the lobby.

"It could've been worse," Cat observed dryly. She heard the sound of motorcycle engines approach and added, "The Calvary has arrived to help us clean up!"

---

Gemma pulled her Cadillac to a stop in the nursing home parking lot and sat looking at the large, one story building. Her father was inside that building somewhere, feeling lost and alone.

"I abandoned you, Daddy, and I'm sorry," Gemma whispered, laying her head against the steering wheel. "But I've come back." She took several deep breaths to steady herself, then got out of the car and walked slowly across the parking lot to the front entrance.

The front door was locked. A large red button was installed on the frame next to the door with a sign above the button that informed visitors to push it for access. Gemma tried not to wince in discomfort when a buzzer went off to indicate the door was unlocked. It sounded a lot like the buzzers at Stockton Prison.

'I can't think about that now. I've got to concentrate on Daddy!' She reminded herself, opening the door and slipping inside. She walked up to the information desk and announced herself.

"Yes, Mrs. Morrow. The nurse at the Altzheimer's unit indicated you might be coming today," the receptionist replied. She gave Gemma directions to the unit housing her father. "I'll call ahead to inform the nurses' station that you're on the way."

"Yeah. Thanks," Gemma stated quietly, turning towards the hall the receptionist had indicated. The smell of antiseptic permeated the air, despite air fresheners and circulated air treatments. There was also the faint odor of urine and feces that made Gemma's nose wrinkle.

'I hate these places! How could Rose think that a place like this would be of any benefit to Daddy?' The words kept pace with her measured strides down the hall. The faces of the elderly patients stared hopefully at her as she neared them. Tentative smiles briefly lit their faces as they hoped she would stop to visit with them.

Gemma nodded amiably at the patients before she passed them without a word or smile. It tore at her heart to do so. If she stopped to give them a kind word she'd never get to visit her father, and he was the one she was there to see.

She finally reached the Altzheimer's unit and the nurses' station. It resembled the reception area at the front, but unlike that portion, the smells weren't as noticeable and none of the patients were sitting in the halls.

"You must be Mrs. Morrow," a soft voice stated from the other side of the counter she stood in front of. "Reception told me you were coming."

Gemma looked over the partition and down towards the desk below her line of sight. A woman wearing a dark blue smock and surgical pants gazed inquisitively at her.

"Yeah. Where's my Dad?" Gemma asked.

"In his room. Before you go -" the nurse hastily added as Gemma turned away.

She turned back, fire blazing in her eyes over the delay.

"- there's a few things you need to know," the nurse continued, not flinching at the other woman's baleful expression. "Your father's doctor wants to talk with you before you visit Rev. Madoc."

"Can't it wait?" Gemma retorted.

"No, it can't wait, Mrs. Morrow," a deep voice announced from behind her.

Gemma turned to stare at a tall, white haired man wearing a long white coat. His name was embroidered over his heart, along with the name of the facility.

"Why can't I see my Dad?" She asked fiercely.

"You'll be able to see him, but I wanted to speak to you first. If you'll come with me, please." The doctor spoke with a ring of authority similar to the way her father once spoke from the pulpit. He wasn't asking for her to comply, but telling her to do so. Despite herself, Gemma found herself following the doctor to his office.

"Have a seat, Mrs. Morrow," he pointed to a luxurious leather chair across the desk as he lowered himself into his own chair.

"I hope this won't take long," Gemma muttered.

"It'll take as long as it takes, Mrs. Morrow," the doctor replied sternly. "You might rule the roost in Charming, but I call the shots here. Are we clear on that?"

Gemma stared in surprise at the doctor. It was obvious that Rose had informed him about her. She sat back in her chair and motioned for the doctor to proceed.

"I'm not real happy about the way you ran off from here without seeing your father. He was very disappointed that you didn't come see his room."

"I - "

The doctor held up his hand to stop Gemma's protest. "Dr. Knowles explained the reason for your abrupt departure. She also talked to your father before she left with a bunch of bikers."

'Thank you, Tara!' Gemma sent a silent prayer of gratitude to her protege. "Yeah. I'm sorry - "

"I'm not done yet, Mrs. Morrow," the doctor interjected sternly. "Frankly, I wasn't sure that allowing you to visit your father was such a good idea."

"Was?"

"The nurse told me last night about your call, and that flimsy excuse about your heart," the doctor stated coldly.

"Flimsy?" Gemma snarled. She started to rise from the chair.

"Sit down and be quiet, Mrs. Morrow, or I'll have you removed!" The doctor roared. "At the time, it sounded like a flimsy excuse. Then I reviewed the medical history your mother filed with us. I also checked with Dr. Knowles, who confirmed that you'd been hospitalized and faxed the record to me." He opened a drawer and withdrew a file folder that he tossed onto the desk. "If your story hadn't checked out," the doctor continued, "I'd be showing you the door and letting it hit you on the ass on the way out."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Gemma growled.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Mrs. Morrow. I'll allow you to visit your father, but you'd damn well better return once a week to see him, and call him every day!"

"I fully intend to!" Gemma retorted.

"I wish I could trust you to do that, Mrs. Morrow. If not for the unfortunate fact that seeing family is essential to his well being, I would do everything in my power to keep you away. But if you disappoint that poor man one more time, whether you have POA over him or not, I will make sure you don't get a third chance! Are we clear, Mrs. Morrow?"

"Crystal clear, doctor!" Gemma replied coldly, staring the doctor directly in the eyes. They glared at each other for a few moments, neither one willing to look away first.

Much as I'd like to win this stare down, I'd rather see my Dad!' Gemma dropped her gaze from the doctor's, appearing to look contrite. 'I'll let that asshat think he's won this round! He'll see how wrong he is about me!'

"Yes, I believe you understand the gravity of the situation," the doctor stated, his eyes glittering in triumph. "I'll take you to him now."

---

The damage to Lumpy's lobby still looked hedious after the broken glass was swept up and removed. Cat, Ima, the prospects, and the gym employees surveyed the remaining damage and made notes of what needed to be done.

"We'll have to get the glass shelves and doors replaced," Cat noted. "Those will probably have to be special ordered."

"I found the file with the measurements and the vendor that installed them, Cat," Eddie Cutter, advised. He passed a file folder to her.

She opened the file and skimmed through the contents, closed it, and handed it back to Cutter. "Good. Go ahead and get the order in with him. The sooner that's done, the sooner we can reopen."

"I think we can repair the pictures that were damaged," Ima observed. "There's a store here in town that carries all kinds of frames."

"I wish that Lumpy's medal had turned up," Cat sighed wistfully. "Why on earth would Salazar have taken such a thing?"

"Prolly to pawn, ma'am," Phil offered. "Wasn't it a gold medal?"

"Yes," Cat nodded. "And old as well." She pulled out her iPhone and accessed the notepad app. 'Call SJSD re: Lumpy's medal'.

"What are ya doin'?" Miles inquired.

"Just makin' a note to myself to see if the sheriff's department has Lumpy's medal. They might have it settin' in their property room without realizin' it belongs here."

"I checked the answering machine, Miss Cat," Cutter informed her. "Nothing from the sheriff's office, but plenty of calls asking if we're going to reopen."

"Before we leave, be sure to make a new outgoin' recordin' that tells callers to watch the media for our grand re openin' announcement," Cat advised him. She turned to Ima and added, "Let's be sure to stay within Charmin' for the supplies. It'll keep the business owners on our side. Lumpy was a member of the business owner's association."

"We'll get the hardware stuff, ma'am," Phil stated. "Looks like we'll need paint, brushes, rollers, spackle compound, painters tape, and all that other kind of fun stuff. There's a hardware shop on Main Street."

"And keys!" Ima piped up. "You and I will need keys."

"Already taken care of," Cutter stated. "We have an extra set in the office."

"That'll do for now, but we're gettin' new locks on the doors," Cat informed him. "Who has keys to the place besides you?"

"Just the other full time guy. You and Miss Ima will make it a total of five keys."

"Six," Ima stated firmly. "Kozik needs one as co - owner."

"I agree," Cat added. "Call a locksmith to install new locks on the front and back doors, and have seven keys made."

"Why seven?"

"We'll keep an extra handy in case one breaks," Cat replied, giving Cutter 'The Look'.

He returned her stare for a few moments, then blinked and lowered his gaze. "All right. We'll do it your way," he sighed.

"Might as well understand that there's a new sheriff in town, darlin'. Things might change from what all y'all are used to," Cat informed Lumpy's former employee.

"You men know this operation," Ima added firmly. "We're going to count on your expertise. But we also want to make this a little more profitable than it was before. We owe that to Lumpy's memory, don't you agree?"

Cutter and the other gym employees nodded in agreement. They were quickly finding out that the two women had the gym's best interests in mind and weren't just going to be getting in the way.

"Glad we're on the same wavelength," Cutter murmured.

"Not much else we can do until we get the supplies. Shall we agree to meet tomorrow, same bat - time?"

The employees and prospects agreed to return the following morning. "We can get the holes filled and start painting," Phil noted.

"I'll contact the vendor and get an ETA on the replacement glass," Cutter added. "And have the locksmith meet us here tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Cat nodded. As they filed out of the building, she murmured to Ima, "Do y'all have a minute?"

"Sure."

The women waited beside the Challenger as Cutter locked the front door. Once the men left, Ima turned to Cat and asked, "What's on your mind, Kitten?"

"I'm thinkin' about makin' some coupons available at the coffeehouse to drum up business between the two places."

"What kind of coupon?" Ima inquired.

"Maybe 50 cents off a large drink of choice with the coupon and their gym membership card, showin' they took out a year's contract," she replied.

"That sounds pretty good. They can't just grab a coupon from here and get a discount on your dime. That protects your business and the gym," Ima observed.

"And maybe a punch card for the coffeehouse, buy 10 specialty drinks, get the card punched 10 times, get one free trial visit at the gym."

"How would you keep people from double dipping?" Ima inquired.

Cat wrinkled her nose. "I haven't gotten that far. Might mean a little record keepin' on both sides."

"What if each punch card is numbered, and the card holder has to record that number at the coffeehouse to make it valid. Then, when the cardholder shows up for their free visit, the gym verifies the cardholder info with the coffeehouse and 'voila!', they try to take a second free trial, they're caught!"

Cat turned the idea over in her head. It had potential to be a bookkeeping nightmare, but only if they had to rely on the telephone and log books. "I think it might work. The gym and the coffeehouse could instant message each other whenever the punch card is presented," she murmured. "The only problem is that the coffeehouse computer is in the office, not out front."

"The gym would just need to call the coffeehouse then, tell them the information's been sent, so that one of your employees could run back and validate it."

"That might have to be the workaround; I really don't want to take the chance of havin' a tablet at the counter with all that liquid."

Ima grimaced in sympathy. "Yeah, I can see where that would be a problem. You'd go broke replacing tablets!" She gazed at the empty storefronts and frowned. "Are you sure this is going to be worth the extra effort?"

"From what I've heard Hale state in the business owners' meetings about this project, the gym has the potential to be a good source of income for the guys. Especially when we add a weight room and exercise area to it!"

"Tell you what, I'll run this and the add ons by Koz tonight. Can he call you if he has questions or concerns?"

"If y'all don't mind him callin' another woman!" Cat replied teasingly.

"Oh, I'm not worried!" Ima laughed good naturedly.

"Good. Tell him Tig and I kicked the added rooms around before he got carted off to Stockton. He seemed in favor of it at the time, but I wanna make sure he's still OK with it. Then I'll bring up the punch card - coupon idea and see what he thinks."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, kitten," Ima replied, surprising Cat by giving her a swift hug before she climbed into her Toyota.

---

Jax didn't just get his hair trimmed, he had it shaved nearly completely off. He didn't go for the 'chrome dome' that Happy sported, just had the barber leave what amounted to 'peach fuzz' on his head. He glanced at his reflection in the prison barber shop's mirror. His head felt much lighter than before the cut. He shivered from the lack of coverage on his head. "I didn't realize the air was so cold around here!"

The barber grinned, opened a drawer, and removed a beanie from it that he tossed onto Jax's lap. "I keep a supply of these on hand. Every time one of you newbies gets a buzz cut, they complain about the cold!"

Jax slipped the beanie over his head. It fit snugly, and he immediately felt better. 'Now I look like Ope!'

"Did ya know you lose your body warmth though your head?" The barber asked, removing the protective sheet from Jax's body.

"Nah. Guess I do now," Jax replied. "Thanks."

He stopped in at the library on the way back from the barber shop, but Bobby and Juice were already gone. He was pleased to find a few volumes of interest and selected one to take back to his cell. He tossed the book onto his bunk, then ambled on out to the exercise yard where the rest of the club was gathered. Bobby and Clay were sitting together, watching Tig, Juice, and Happy playing three man pitch and catch.

"Did ya find anything at the library, Bobby?" Jax inquired, leaning against the chain link fence and lighting a cigarette.

"Yeah. Pretty interesting book about Elvis. Had to do with after he died."

"What's with the 'Opie' cap, son?" Clay smirked. "Get a little too much cut off?"

Jax blew a plume of smoke through his nose. "Yeah, kinda."

"Let's see!" Bobby playfully swiped the beanie from Jax's head, revealing the blonde fuzz underneath.

"Whew!" Tig whistled.

"There is a head under all that hair after all!" Juice added, running a hand over his Mohawk.

Jax endured the teasing with a rueful grin. "Laugh it up, assholes! It'll grow out."

"Why the beanie, though?" Clay repeated.

"My brain froze," Jax replied. "The barber gave me this to keep it warm."

The others doubled up with laughter. Jax retrieved the beanie and jammed it over his head. He grinned good naturedly. God knew there was little to laugh at in prison. He enjoyed seeing the worry and concern vanish from his brothers faces, if only for a little while.

---

Dawn lost no time calling her step - mother the minute Colleen left for work that evening. She waited tensely while the phone rang, mentally preparing a message if the voice mail picked up.

"Cat Marshall speakin'."

Dawn frowned at the receiver, holding it away from her ear for a moment. 'Her voice sounds a little guarded, like she wasn't expecting me to call! And why didn't she use Daddy's last name?'

"Hello? Colleen?"

"It's me, C - Cat. Dawn. Tig's daughter," she replied, stumbling over the unfamiliar name.

"Hey there, darlin'! I'm sorry about soundin' so uncertain; the caller ID displayed your mother's name -"

"Oh, that explains a lot!" Dawn interjected. "I couldn't figure out why you didn't use Daddy's last name. I didn't mean to make you nervous."

"No worries, darlin'!" Cat assured her, a warm note evident in her voice. "Are y'all callin' about the job offer?"

'She doesn't beat around the bush.' Dawn cleared her throat and replied, "Yeah. Mom said it was weekend work and included a ride to see Daddy on Sundays."

"Absolutely! The hardest work is done on Saturday. That's bakin' day. We make all the baked goods and freeze the dough for bakin' fresh product durin' the week. We'll be doublin' up on all the recipes startin' this Saturday."

"Why is that?"

"The coffeehouse has a contract to provide baked goods to Stockton. That portion has to be baked and individually shrink wrapped. Delivery day is Sunday, which is also the day I'll be visitin' Tig."

"What's involved with the work on Sunday?" Dawn inquired. 'It sounds like grunt work to me!'

"Just unload the car, inventory and replace stock, then go visit your father," Cat stated.

'I could handle that," Dawn replied. "But I'm not a good cook. In fact, I flunked 'Home Ec'!"

She expected her step - mother to laugh at her and winced at making the admission. She waited tensely for the ridicule to begin.

"Seems like we have somethin' else in common besides your father," Cat observed, much to Dawn's surprise. "I'll share a secret with y'all that Tig doesn't know. I flunked 'Home Ec', too."

"You flunked 'Home Ec'?" Dawn snorted in disbelief, thinking of the well cooked meal Cat had served during their visit.

"When I was in eighth grade, in fact. Can't sew worth a darn - no pun intended - but I was the first girl in my high school to take 'Auto Shop' and I aced it!" Cat announced proudly.

"Wow!" Dawn breathed. "What did the boys think?"

"They were pissed that I got better grades than them!" Cat laughed. "Course, that was back in the days when dinosaurs still roamed the Earth!"

"Yeah, right!" Dawn snorted, trying hard not to grin at the woman's humor. "I'll take the job, but Fawnie's not interested. I can't start this week, though."

"That's OK. I have a helper for Sunday. Next weekend is fine. Do y'all have transportation to work?"

"No. Is that gonna be a problem?" Dawn challenged.

"Not really, though I won't be the one pickin' y'all up. One of my staff will drive my PT to get you."

"That's probably best. You're not exactly one of Mom's favorite people," Dawn admitted.

"Yeah. I sorta noticed that," Cat replied wryly.

"Sorry," Dawn muttered.

"No worries, darlin'. One of my boys will be drivin' the PT. It's black with a magnetic sign on the back doors."

"I thought it was red!"

"It was. It got totaled when that truck hit me," Cat explained.

"Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that. Are you OK?"

"Gettin' there. Still a little sore and bruised in places. Thanks for the 'get well' card, by the way. Been meanin' to tell y'all that, but it's been kind of hectic around here."

"Yeah," Dawn agreed. "Daddy seemed a little worried about you whenever we talked."

"Listen, darlin', I'd like to ask a question. Is the wreck the reason you and Fawn took to visitin' Tig at the clubhouse?"

"Kinda," Dawn replied reluctantly. "Fawnie's boyfriend has been takin' us over. We figured it'd be easier to catch Daddy there."

'And prevents all y'all from havin' to deal with me!' Cat thought. Aloud she observed, "That makes sense, given the nature of your father's schedule. I just didn't want all y'all to think you're not welcome here."

"Yeah, well, I'll see you next Saturday - Cat," Dawn stated, disconnecting the line without giving her a chance to reply.

Cat relaxed in her chair and turned off the recording device. "That went better than I expected!"

Dawn stared at the phone for a moment, then smirked in satisfaction. 'That old bat was easy to reel in! She didn't even ask me for Fawnie's number! What a push over! This is gonna be fun!'

---

Kozik gazed at the 'Redwood' patch laying on the conference table in front of him. Next to it lay a larger patch that read 'California'. They were crisp and white. Brand new patches that had never been worn. His forefinger reverently traced the lettering on both patches. They were finally his. 'No one can ever take these away from me!'

It was a bittersweet moment. He'd have preferred to have been voted in by the full membership. He still felt like he'd taken the bitch way of patching in under the 'hardship clause'. Still, it was a unanimous vote, and he had his heart's desire at last. 'It's a win, no matter how dirty,' he assured himself.

Being patched into the mother charter meant that he'd have to give up his SAMTAW patches, including the 'Sgt at Arms' patch. The idea didn't phase him in the least. He'd still be filling that capacity for Redwood until Tig returned.

"Congratulations, Koz," Piney rumbled from the doorway, lifting a shot glass of tequila in salute. "Glad ya decided to patch in under the 'hardship clause' after all." He downed the shot in one gulp.

"I'm just as glad ya want me here, and didn't just vote me in because you need warm bodies around the table," Kozik replied.

"Hah!" Piney snorted. "That's what the nomads are for!"

"Still, they'll be useful for the gun runs," Kozik observed.

"I suppose so," Piney replied. "You gonna have Ima sew those patches on for ya?"

"Nah. This is somethin' I wanna do myself," Kozik stated.

"Use fishin' wire and a heavy gauge needle. Regular thread won't stand up to weather," Piney advised. "And for fuck's sake, don't try to glue 'em on! They'll fall off!"

"Thanks for the info, Piney. I definitely don't wanna lose these patches."

Piney moved towards the table and settled into his chair. "This thing with you and Ima, are ya comfortable with her havin' been with Jax?"

"He was just usin' her, Piney. I really dig her. She's takin' internet courses towards a four year degree. They're not fluff courses, either."

Piney's eyes widened with surprise. "Well! Good for her!"

"She's gonna help Cat and me with the gym. In fact, she's over there right now, helpin' with the clean up and repair." Kozik replied, grinning at Piney's obvious surprise over the news that his old lady had a bod as well as brains. 'You should be jealous, old man!'

"Any idea when you're gonna reopen?"

Kozik shook his head. "That depends on how long the repairs take. The front lobby was pretty shot up."

"Ya got nothin' to worry about. Cat built that coffeehouse from scratch, and ya know how well that's doin'. She'll have the gym whipped into shape in no time."

---

The insistent ringing of the telephone roused Cat from a nap. Without removing the sleep mask, she reached out for the telephone, never coming in contact with her eyeglasses or other items on the bed table. "Hullo?" She inquired groggily, her voice thickened from sleep.

"Did I wake you up?" Her father's gentle and warm voice sounded in her ear.

'It must be 6pm. He always calls at 9 his time,' she cleared her throat and replied, "Nah. I had to answer the phone."

"How are you feeling?" He chuckled.

"Like a truck hit me, but better," she replied. "The eye is fine, no damage from the glass."

"That's a relief. Does light still bother you?"

"Yeah, that's gotten worse," she informed him. "I'm gettin' new glasses in a couple more days with a darker tint to 'em."

"Guess we can't complain about small mercies," he stated. "I was lifting you up in prayer every day after Alex called to tell me about the accident."

"I know y'all have, Daddy. It's appreciated. How are you?"

"Tired. I have all the energy of a tranquilized tortoise," he sighed wearily.

"I guess worryin' about me hasn't helped matters," she observed dryly.

"That's not the case, Honey," he assured her. "That's part of the job of bein' a parent. I've been havin' bouts of nausea again."

Cat frowned in consternation. Her father had been having those attacks for over a year. They left him dehydrated and weak until he had to go to the hospital and then the nursing home where his wife lived for physical therapy before he could go back home. "Seems like that's happenin' more often, Daddy. Can't the doctor figure out what's causin' it?"

"Not yet," he replied. "I have some more news for you." His tone of voice indicated it wasn't good news.

"Is Mom gettin' worse?" Cat was referring to his wife; her step - mother.

"No, she's about the same. Cory's back in town. He called here looking for you. Naturally, I told him to go peddle his papers somewhere else."

"I wouldn't have wasted the breath, Daddy. He only hears what he wants, anyway," Cat growled.

"Well, there's always the chance that the message might register."

"Still, y'all are in no shape to be dealin' with him. Just tell the police and the sheriff that he's botherin' you and let them handle him!" Cat retorted.

"I already did. They paid him a visit and the calls have stopped." He assured her.

"I wouldn't let my guard down," she grumbled. "Guess it's a good thing we don't exchange letters anymore, or he'd be stakin' out the mailbox to get my address!"

"Would he really risk a Federal charge for tampering with mail?" Blaine asked.

"If he thought he could get away with it," Cat informed him wryly. "If y'all sicced the cops on him, he'll get scared and run outta town again. It can't happen soon enough for me."

They spoke about the Cubs' latest series of losses. Then the topic of conversation turned to Alex.

"He's fine, but he's goin' to be away for a few months," she announced airily.

"Oh? What's happened?"

"Nothin' serious, Daddy," she assured him. "He got a job offer as a security consultant in Afghanistan. He left this mornin'."

"Rather sudden, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but that's how these things go. It's a private contract and he wasn't given much advance warning. The money's good, and it's good experience."

"Well, at least he won't be where all the fighting is. Or is he?" Her father replied.

"I dunno, Daddy. He's wasn't able to tell me where he'll be. There's limited telephone and email contact, and no mailing address." She waited for her father to find the one item she hadn't covered. If anyone could find a needle in a haystack like that, it was Blaine Marshall.

"Well, that's a kick in the head! Will he be allowed to contact you at all?"

She pumped a fist in the air in triumph. Her father had accepted the cover story! "He thinks he'll be allowed weekly contact, probably by phone and very brief. There's a free internet web phone thing called 'Skype' that we'll probably use."

"That all sounds Greek to me. I guess you'll just have to settle for that and be happy with it. Beats having no contact at all," her father observed in an upbeat, but still tired, tone of voice. "Guess you'll be OK on your own with the kitties."

"Of course!"

"Well, when you hear from him, be sure to tell him he's in my prayers," Blaine instructed her.

"I will," she promised fervently.

They touched on details from other family, including her aunt and uncle and her cousins. Her eldest cousin's daughter had just delivered a little girl, so her aunt was full of stories about the new baby.

"Y'all sound as proud as any new great - grand uncle could be!" Cat laughed. Her father's answer was a loud yawn. It was getting late for him. "Be sure you keep yourself hydrated, Daddy," she reminded him.

"I'll try. Give the kitty cats a pat on the head so they know they're appreciated. I love you, baby girl."

"Love you too, Daddy. Sleep tight." She replaced the receiver with a sigh of relief. She hated lying to her father, but the truth would have crushed him. She felt he had enough to deal with health wise without being disappointed in Alex.

Learning that 'Brownie' was trying to find her was a bit disconcerting. Especially after all the years that had gone by since he'd tried to kill her. She couldn't figure out why he'd be looking for her again, especially after she'd opted not to press charges against him.

'It wouldn't have done any good. Assault, unlike murder, has a statute of limitations. Maybe that's why he's tryin' to find me now. Because he thinks he's safe!' Cat snorted with derisive laughter. There were thousands of miles, many decades, and several name changes separating them. "He'll have better luck trying to find a contact lens in a shag rug then he'll have findin' me!"

---

The lobby area of the main library in Evansville, Indiana, was a cavernous, silent place. A random cough could sound like thunder in the silence of the room. Patrons roamed the shelves looking for reading material while others poured through the sales racks looking for a rare find. Other patrons sat at large wooden tables reading or studying.

One man was camped out in front of one of the library's bevy of public computers. He had two internet search engines up on the screen in front of him and a spiral notebook rested to one side of the keyboard. The man would write down the information on the screens into the notebook, then use the mouse to move to the next entry on both windows and copy those entries.

The man had been at this activity for several hours in clear violation of the library's posted usage policy. He was the only patron using the public computers, but that wasn't the reason he was being allowed unlimited access to the system. None of the library staff wanted to confront the individual about his use of the computer, not after the first attempt to remove him.

One of the library staff has approached him after he'd been working for an hour at his task. Though no one was waiting to use the terminal, public use was limited to one hour at a time. The staff member had politely come up to him to explain the clearly posted policy. The man had looked up at her, turning the darkly tinted glasses her way.

"No one's waiting, what's the problem?" He challenged in a dark, deep voice that sent chills up the staff member's back.

"It's our policy, sir," the staff member replied cordially. "If you want to take a break and walk around for a few minutes, you can come back and start a new hour."

The man sat back in his chair and cracked his knuckles. The sound reverberated through the quiet library, sounding like a machine gun going off. The sudden noise made the staff member take an abrupt step back.

He smiled grimly, removed his glasses, and turned his ice blue gaze on the woman. "Tell you what, sweetheart. How about if I just stay right here and work on my project until I'm done?"

"I can't allow you to do that, sir," the staffer replied. She'd dealt with the homeless before; they often came to the main library to use the computer to send emails and look for jobs. None of them had ever challenged her authority to vacate the computers as this particular patron was doing. She felt another chill run down her spine as her eyes met his. "No matter if you're homeless or the mayor, everyone is restricted to one hour at a time."

"What makes you think I'm homeless?" He growled, continuing to glare at the staffer.

"I - I"

"That's what you're thinkin'," The man sneered. "Just because my clothes are a little grungy and I carry a knap sack! Bet if I were wearin' a suit, you wouldn't bother me at all!"

"That's not true!" The staffer retorted angrily, though somehow he'd known exactly what she thought about him. 'Was I that obvious?' She asked herself.

"I'm not plannin' on movin', and there's not a damn thing ya can do to make me move, sister, so scram!"

The man never stood up or made any threatening move towards her, but the staffer felt threatened just the same. "I'll call the police!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he growled. "The cops don't take too well to being called out for no good reason. Violatin' your petty little authority ain't a good reason, so get your bony ass outta my face!"

The staffer stumbled away from the patron, who sneered triumphantly and put his glasses back on before returning to his research. The staffer scurried to report the incident to the head librarian. Her boss took one look out her office window at the patron in question. The man was looking right at her. He had removed his glasses again, allowing his ice blue eyes to meet hers. The man had a menacing manner though he was sitting perfectly still.

She felt chilled, as if the temperature in her office had suddenly dropped 10 degrees. 'It's all in my mind. He's trying to be intimidating and its' working!'

"What are you going to do about him?" The staffer inquired in a shrill tone of voice.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" The staffer shrieked.

The head librarian winced. She didn't think it was possible for any human being's voice to reach such an ear splitting octave. "Nothing. As long as nobody has to wait for a terminal, just let him do his thing so he gets out of here."

"B - but -" the staffer stammered a protest.

"Do you really want to confront him again?" The head librarian asked dryly.

"N - no."

"Then leave him alone. He's not bothering anybody," the head librarian intoned. 'Yet.'

Other patrons did make use of the public terminals throughout the remainder of the day, but they didn't stay long. Each user sensed the aura of menace that emanated from the man in the dark clothing and glasses. Each person quickly finished their task and departed from the computer area to other, more hospitable areas of the library.

Every time he needed to change to a fresh sheet of paper, the man would drop his pen onto the table and shake his hand to relieve the cramped muscles. The sound of the pen hitting the table would echo like a gun shot, causing the customers to look up in surprise, then hastily return to their individual pursuits when they realized he was the source of the noise.

The man grinned whenever his noisy prelude to his hand massage disturbed the hush of the library. He was intent on his task, copying every single result on the two internet search engines. Come Hell or high water, he would find the object of his search, even if he had to search all 50 states to find her.

Having to flee from Vincennes once again was another strike against Cat Marshall. He'd been surprised to have the police show up at his grandparents' house just a mere half hour after he'd called Blaine Marshall. 'Obviously wasn't a good idea to call her old man and pretend to be an old friend of hers from broadcastin'! I never expected the bitch to give him any of my possible aliases!' He frowned intently at the screen in front of him, recalling the incident that had brought about his subsequent flight from his temporary base.

He'd gone to his parents' home in Vincennes first, hoping that time had cooled their anger at him. They were no more willing to shelter him than ever, refusing to let him cross the threshold into their home. Despite his second marriage and settling down for a few blissful years, it hadn't made up for the heinous crime he'd committed years earlier.

He walked the many miles to his grandparents' home in rural Knox County. Though his grandmother feared him, his grandfather had left the house to them both so that he'd always have a place to call home.

His grandmother was shocked and frightened when he showed up at the house unannounced. 'Usually my son gives me notice that Cory is on his way!' She cursed her husband under her breath, questioning once again why he'd made the decision to leave the house to her and their willful grandson. 'If you're not payin' for that, you will when I catch up with you!' She silently promised his memory.

She fixed her errant grandchild a meal, then watched in grim silence as he used the phone to make a long distance call. He'd made a stop at the campus library and found Rev. Marshall's telephone number, which was listed in the local white pages.

"Hullo?"

'Brownie' drew a deep breath and altered his normally deep, gruff voice to a higher pitch. "Hello, Rev. Marshall. You probably don't know me, but my name is 'Guido'. I worked with Cat at the radio station in Terre Haute, but we lost touch, and I was wondering -"

"Stop right there, son," Rev. Marshall interjected tiredly. "You're not some friend of my daughter's. You're that man that nearly killed her."

"No sir!" 'Brownie' denied vehemently, though his heart raced over being discovered. "Honestl I've been out of the country for the last couple of years and -"

"Give it a rest, 'Brownie', 'Guido', or whatever your name is. I'm not giving you my daughter's contact information. Goodbye."

The dial tone buzzed in 'Brownie's' ear. He snorted in derision and cradled the receiver.

"The man caught on to you pretty quick. Guess you won't be staying here much longer!" She chortled.

"That's what you think, Grandma!" He growled menacingly. "Just because the old reverend blew me off doesn't mean I don't have other options open to me."

She got up and shuffled into the bedroom, slamming the door after her. "Why don't you leave that girl alone?" She called through the door. "She's not bothered you all this time!"

"That's where you're wrong, old woman!" 'Brownie' muttered. "She's still livin', and that bothers me!"

A few minutes later, a deputy sheriff's car pulled off the roadway in front of the house. It's red and blue dome lights were flashing as the deputy got out of the car and walked up to the porch. Instead of knocking, the deputy opened the screen door and walked into the front room as if he lived there. He'd visited the home often enough as a young civilian to be comfortable with walking in like family because he was family.

"Great Grandma? Are you OK?" He called out, keeping his hand poised above his holstered service revolver.

"I'm in the bedroom!" She called out.

"Where's Dad?"

"I'm right here, 'Mouse'," 'Brownie' announced, striding out of the kitchen into the front room. "Did your grandparents tell ya I was back?"

"Don't call me that, Dad. I'm not a kid anymore. They didn't have to tell me. The department got a complaint call about you."

'Brownie' frowned and glanced at the closed door to his grandmother's bedroom. 'There's no way the old bat coulda called it in, or did she spring for an extension in there?'

"No, Great Grandma wasn't the complainant. You know she doesn't have an extension in there," Deputy Brown explained.

"Cat's father ratted on me," 'Brownie' rolled his eyes and flopped down on the couch, a wry smirk clouded his features.

Deputy Brown removed a folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket and crossed the room, holding it out to his father. "He has a restrainin' order out on you, Dad. He's had it for years and gets it renewed. It bars you from makin' any kind of contact with him."

'Brownie' took the paper from his son and scanned the contents. No telephone, mail, or personal contact was allowed. He was not to ask about the minister's daughter, either. "So did ya come here to arrest me?" 'Brownie' asked roughly.

"No. You can't violate the terms of somethin' you've never been served with. Any future attempts you make, though, will result in arrest," his son explained.

"And you thought I'd take this better from you than some stranger, is that it?"

Deputy Brown looked down at the floor, then raised his eyes to meet his father's ice blue glare. "I felt it was the right thing to do. Things have changed a lot since you were last here."

"Obviously!" 'Brownie' snarled, gazing contemptuously at the uniform his son wore.

"I'm not ashamed of bein' a cop," Deputy Brown replied. "It's my way of makin' up for all the shit you've dealt people around here all your life."

'Brownie' snickered wryly. "The son atonin' for the sins of the father, eh?"

Deputy Brown shrugged. "Listen, Great Grandma doesn't want you here; Grandma and Grandpa Brown don't want you with them."

"Tough. I'm plannin' on stickin' around awhile!" 'Brownie' retorted.

"No, you're not, Dad. I'll take you to the county line, and you're leavin' the area."

"By whose authority?"

"Read the restrainin' order again," his son replied.

'Brownie' read over the official paperwork again, then wadded it up and tossed it angrily at his son. The wadded ball of paper bounced harmlessly off his chest and fell to the floor at his son's feet. "That son of a bitch! He can't do that!"

"He can, and he did. It's official. You stay in the county and you're in violation. I'm doin' you a favor in givin' you a ride somewhere other than jail," Deputy Brown informed him quietly, bending down to pick up the discarded restraining order. He smoothed it out and added, "Go get your gear and say goodbye to Great Grandma, 'cause you're not stayin'!"

"Thank God!" Mrs. Brown opened her bedroom door, gazing in delight at her great grandson.

"Him and Rev. Marshall," Deputy Brown murmured.

'Brownie' stared at his son, unable to accept the betrayal. "My own flesh and blood."

"That's the only thing you ever gave me, Dad," Deputy Brown replied.

"And fortunately, the apple fell far from the tree!" Mrs. Brown enthused. "You're nothing like him, and I thank God every day for it!"

'Brownie' reluctantly packed his duffel and picked up his hat and coat. He didn't say a word of farewell to his grandmother. He kept his head high as he strode out the door onto the porch.

Mrs. Brown closed and locked the screen door. She stood watching as 'Brownie' led his son to the waiting cruiser.

"Toss your pack in the back seat. You can ride up front," Deputy Brown instructed his father, holding open the passenger side back door.

"You sure you want me up there?" 'Brownie' snarled.

"It's up to you. If you want to be treated like a criminal, I'll be happy to oblige," his son shrugged.

'Brownie' tossed his pack into the back of the cruiser, then slid into the passenger front seat. He watched his grown son position himself behind the steering wheel.

"KC12 to base," he spoke into the microphone attached to his uniform shirt.

"Base."

"Still 10 - 7. Taking subject of complaint to county line."

"Ten - four, KC 12."

Deputy Brown turned to his father. "North, or South?"

"You know I can't go any closer to Terre Haute," his father grumbled.

"South it is, then."

Father and son didn't speak during the drive back through Vincennes to the county line. Deputy Brown knew his father was upset at him, but that was nothing new. His father had been unhappy with him for as long as he could remember.

'Mom did the right thing in terminating your visitation rights,' he thought as he watched his father trudge along the highway from the idling cruiser. His father was now in Gibson County and would be safe from jail unless he tried to sneak back into Vincennes again.

'Maybe he'll realize that there's nothing for him here anymore and won't come back. I've done what I can for him, there's no further debt owed for his sperm donation.' Deputy Brown radioed that he was now available and turned the cruiser back towards Vincennes.

'Brownie' had hitchhiked to Evansville, where a friend listened to his tale of woe and offered him temporary shelter. That friend would pick him up from the library after work. 'Brownie' shook his head, clearing it of thoughts of the past and concentrated on the present task before him.

---

Jacob Hale scampered from his parked car to his front door, watching all around for signs of danger. His hand shook so badly that he had difficulty inserting the key into the lock. He finally gained access to his home, sighing with relief as he leaned against the solid wood door.

"Too many more days like this will make me a basket case!" He sighed, tossing his keys on the entry table and crossing into the den. He didn't stop until he'd poured a healthy dose of bourbon into a tumbler and downed half the glass.

The shrill ringing of his house phone nearly caused him to drop the tumbler. It sounded loud and harsh in the quiet house and set his heart racing. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear. "J - jacob Hale speaking."

"You sound nervous, my friend," Ethan Zobelle stated coolly. "You've been acting nervous all day."

"You'd be nervous if you didn't have anyone protecting you!" Hale sputtered.

"I'm not unsympathetic to your situation, Jacob. I, too, was once in your quivering shoes and lived to see another sunrise. This shall pass."

"Pardon me if I don't share your optimism!" Hale retorted, downing the rest of his drink before falling into his chair.

"I may be thousands of miles away, but I still have connections," Zobelle reminded him coldly. "Unfortunately, arrangements take time given the distance involved. Look outside your window."

Hale had given up trying to figure out how Zobelle knew where he was in his own house. All the bug sweeps he'd had performed came out clean, yet Zobelle seemed to know when he was home and what room he was in whenever he called. Hale turned his chair around to the window and lifted one of the slats in the horizontal blinds.

"What am I looking for?"

"Good. My men are in place. Look down the street, under a streetlamp. See the sedan parked there?"

Hale looked in the direction Zobelle indicated. A late model sedan was indeed parked under the pool of light. A shadowy form sat behind the steering wheel. "Yeah, I see it."

"Members of LOAN will be watching your back until I say otherwise," Zobelle informed him.

"And how long will that be?"

"Until the Calavarez are no longer a threat to you," Zobelle informed him. "My intel shows that won't be long."

"How can you be sure they won't come after me?" Hale asked.

"The Calavarez is a dead MC. Their new president is under Marcus Alvarez' thumb and won't fart downwind without his permission. Alvarez has no beef with you. The presence of my men is just a reminder to anyone else that you are not to be harmed."

"You have good sources. Better than Pope's and he runs most of the major underworld rackets in the area that Alvarez doesn't."

"Pope is also your biggest competitor in property development, Jacob. And that's the other reason I want you in the Mayor's office."

"To let Pope run me out of business?" Hale yelled.

"Do not raise your voice to me. Let Pope think he's king of real estate development. He'll come in handy later on down the line."

"When? How?"

"That's for me to know, and you not to ever find out," Zobelle informed him coldly. "Suffice it to say I have plans to use Pope in a couple of years against our joint foe."

"Sir, isn't it a little misleading that you are a major player in a white separationist movement but plan to use a black crime lord against a white criminal gang?" Hale asked in a more respectful tone of voice.

"It never ceases to amaze me how brave a man can be when there is considerable distance between him and his superior," Zobelle observed dryly. "I would have thought you would have realized by now that LOAN is merely a front for me. I am a venture capitalist, Jacob. Pure and simple. The only color that really matters is the color of money. The sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be."

---

"So how'd you're first day go, love?" Cat asked the minute Alex's call was connected.

"Not bad, baby," Alex replied. "They've got me in the woodworking shop."

"Beats latrine duty!" She snickered.

"No shit," he laughed. "It's really not bad there. Kinda reminds me of our country romps."

"Wonder why they didn't put y'all in the garage to work?"

"Hap thinks they were afraid we'd do somethin' dastardly to the fleet," Alex informed her.

Cat's eyebrows rose into her bangs. For once, she couldn't come up with a suitable stinging response.

"Cat, you there?"

"Yeah, just tryin' to behave myself," she assured him. "I'm just not up to pickin' on y'all tonight."

"Colleen give ya a hard time?" He inquired gently.

"No more than usual. Dawn called earlier. Startin' next week, she'll be workin' on Saturday and Sunday with me on the Stockton deal."

Alex let out a blast of air he didn't know he'd been holding. "Does that mean -?"

"All it means, love, is that she's goin' to be workin' for me as a part time employee," Cat interjected firmly. "She'll assist with the extra bakin' and makin' the delivery with me. You'll get to see her every Sunday."

"That's all there is to it?"

"That's all there is to it," she confirmed. "Look, Dawn needs a job, the coffeehouse has been down a person since JR quit. With the Stockton Concession, we need another hand on bakin' day, and I can't rely on Chuckie every weekend. It's a win - win all the way around."

Alex noticed that Cat didn't mention anything about Fawn. He decided against pushing the matter. The fact that one of his girls would be coming to see him was good enough.

"I haven't heard anything from Fawn, yet. She doesn't have a phone of her own, and Colleen wouldn't give me her boyfriend's number," Cat informed him. "I'm afraid I forgot to ask Dawn for it."

"That's a'right, baby. You're not 100% percent yet. Ya managed to do a lot in one day," Alex assured her. "More than I expected."

"It gets better," she replied. "We started the repairs at the gym. Once the broken glass was cleaned up, it doesn't look too difficult."

"Who's 'we'?" Alex growled protectively. 'So help me, if she didn't have help I'll -"

"Down, boy!" She laughed. "Ima, the prospects, and the gym employees were all there. I didn't try to do my 'Wonder Woman' impersonation."

"Good."

"That brings me to another matter, about buildin' up business for the gym," she replied, deliberately ignoring the male superior smugness in his voice. She outlined the coupon with a year's gym membership and 10 drink punch card for a free visit idea and how it would be validated between the two businesses. "Ima was really helpful sketchin' that last bit out," she added.

"Sounds good to me," Alex approved. "If Koz is OK with it, run it by the kids."

"Ima's goin' to run it by Kozik tonight. From what I've heard about the Liberty Street project, there's potential for more business for the gym and the coffeehouse if we play our cards right."

Alex felt that familiar rush of warmth from her use of the word 'we' in discussing the businesses with him. It would be more than a year before he could be actively involved, but that didn't seem to matter to her. She obviously wanted his input.

"Did Lumpy's guys give ya any guff?"

"Nah. They were a little reticent at first, but Ima and I stood our ground and they're grudgingly acceptin' our leadership," she replied. "I suspect they might balk a little about the coupon/punch card thing, but I honestly can't figure out any better way to handle it."

"Lemme talk to Juice, see what he suggests. I agree with ya that one of those laptops or even a tablet ain't a good idea at the counter. Did ya have a chance to talk to Blaine?"

"Yeah. The cover story passed muster."

"I'm sorry you're havin' to lie to him, baby," Alex stated softly.

"It's not the first time we've glossed shit over for him; it probably won't be the last," she replied. "As things stand now, it's probably just as well that he doesn't know the truth."

Something about her tone of voice set off an alarm in Alex's head. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I don't - "

"Don't do that, Cat!" He interjected sharply. "Don't keep shit from me just because I'm here!"

"All right!" She sighed in resignation. "Daddy's havin' nausea again. I called the house cleaner, she confirmed that he's as lethargic as when we visited."

'Shit!' Alex closed his eyes against the possibility, sharing her pain. He could hear the worry and fear in his wife's voice. He clenched the receiver tighter, wishing it was her that he was holding. "I'm sorry, baby."

"So am I. The periods between episodes are gettin' shorter accordin' to my aunt. She's been keepin' a diary. I expect he'll be goin' back to the hospital for another bout of dehydration in about another week or so."

"Do ya think you'll need to go be with him?" He winced at the selfishness of the question, but it was too late to take it back.

'Poor baby! He doesn't want a lot of miles between us again!' Cat smiled, thanking her lucky stars they didn't have vision phone. "Not now, love," she reassured him. "I can stay in contact by phone. There's no reason for me to go to Indiana unless he takes a turn for the worst."

"I don't wanna scare ya, baby, but maybe you'd better start thinkin' of bein' prepared to take off at a moment's notice," he advised her.

"True. Daddy's immune system's been terribly compromised by the decades of cancer treatments. A minor sniffle for you and me could really spell trouble," Cat observed. "If I do have to leave, y'all will still be able to call me."

Instead of enjoying the fact that she had put him and his needs over everyone else, Alex felt a vague discomfort. His hand rubbed the bridge of his nose and he murmured, "Shit! Dammit, baby, I didn't mean for that to come out the way it did."

"I know, love," she protested gently. "No matter the circumstance, y'all are always gonna come first with me."

"Baby -"

"Listen, this is gonna cost a mint," she interjected quickly. "Tell the guys I said 'hey' and I'll see y'all Sunday."

---

Gemma lay on her stomach across the hotel bed, staring at the patterns in the carpet. The visit with her father had taken an emotional toll on her, as had the confrontation with the doctor. Tommy Gunn and Sleeved Biker had retired to their own room. They would escort her back through Northern California the next day.

'I really wanted to pound that doctor's smug face into that desk, but he had a point. It didn't do Daddy a lot of good for me to take off without sayin' goodbye!'

After he'd read her the riot act, the doctor led her down the hall of the Altzheimer's unit to her father's room. A cabinet located right outside the room held pictures and momentos intended to jolt his memory. A plaque with his named engraved on it rested right under his picture, indicating that it was his room.

The room was more spacious that Gemma anticipated. It was a single room, complete with a small refrigerator, a private bathroom, television, easy chair, bed, and couch. She was pleased to see that the bed wasn't the standard nursing home/hospital bed. Call buttons were strategically placed around the room and in the bathroom so he could summon help when needed.

Family pictures adorned one wall, along with a wall hanging she'd made for him during some ancient Vacation Bible School craft session. 'I didn't think he still had it!' She thought, fighting back tears at the realization that Rose had kept it for him. All the decor had come from the house that was no longer his to help make the room feel more like home.

The window coverings were open, allowing sunlight to brighten the room and give it a small bit of warmth. Gemma smiled slightly to see that her father had a view of the flower garden. It wasn't as impressive as the one he'd cultivated, but it was still full of vibrant colors and well tended.

Nate was sitting in the easy chair with a home made afghan covering his legs. 'Just like I found him when Tig brought me to the house after Rose died!' The television was on, tuned to a channel that was showing a vintage episode of a drama about World War II.

"Daddy?" She called just loud enough for her voice to carry over the television.

Nate looked up at her. His eyes squinted at the two figures in the doorway. He shook his head and squinted at the female standing next to the doctor, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Gemma? Is it really you?" He asked as he stood up, allowing the afghan to crumple to the floor to puddle at his feet. He held his arms out to her.

"Yes, Daddy, it's me!" She exclaimed, rushing into his embrace.

He held her close to him for a moment, then tears streamed down his face. "You left me alone!"

"I'm sorry, Daddy. My heart acted up and I just got out of the hospital," Gemma explained. She was fighting back tears of her own. She hoped that hearing of her flare up might trigger his memory.

"Are you going to take me home, now?" He asked, hope brightening his careworn face.

"Oh, Daddy!" Gemma sighed. "This is your home now."

"No!" He cried, pushing her away from him with an unexpected amount of force.

Gemma stumbled backward, falling onto Nate's bed. All the air in her lungs escaped in a loud "Ooof!"

The doctor stepped forward and placed a comforting but firm hand on Nate's shoulder. "We've talked about this before, Nate. Rose is physically unable to care for you. That's why she made arrangements for you to live here," he gently reminded the distraught man.

"Where is my wife?" He asked plaintively. "Rose? Rosie?" He called out towards the open door.

"Rose is where she's supposed to be," the doctor replied in the same gentle manner.

'That's a diplomatic way of putting it!' Gemma observed to herself from the bed. She was beginning to regain her breath. Her heart raced a little, but not at an alarming rate. She knew it was just the surprise that was causing her increased heart rate, not her condition.

"Rose is in a place where there isn't any pain, or fatigue," the doctor continued. "She's always going to be watching over you."

"When can I see her?"

The doctor gently forced Nate back into his chair. "You'll see her again when the time is right, Nate. You need to settle down, now. Your daughter is here to see you. Don't you want to have a nice visit with her?"

Nate looked in the direction the doctor indicated and smiled joyfully. "Gemma! When did you get here?"

'He doesn't remember pushing me away just a few minutes ago!' Gemma fought back tears of frustration. "Just a little bit ago, Daddy," she replied shakily.

"Where have you been all this time?"

"I was sick, Daddy," she explained patiently. "My heart."

"But you're OK now, Honey?" He asked in genuine concern.

"Yes, Daddy. It was just a problem with my medicine," she assured him.

"How's my little grandson, Jax?"

Gemma's smile turned into a grimace. "He's not so little anymore, Daddy. Jax is an adult and he has a son. You're a great grandpa now!" She withdrew a recent picture of Abel from her purse and held it out to her father.

The doctor moved quietly to the door, watching Gemma's interaction with her father. It was obvious that the woman had some experience in dealing with her father's fading memory and abrupt attention changes. He continued watching them from the doorway until he was assured that the visit would continue to go well.

"I am?" Nate queried, holding out his hand for the picture.

Gemma placed the photo in her father's waiting hand. "His name is Abel," she replied.

"Abel. The same name as Adam and Eve's son," Nate murmured, gazing lovingly at the picture in his hand. "He's beautiful." He started to hand it back to her.

Gemma shook her head. "No, that's yours, Daddy. We'll put it with the other family pictures," she stated firmly.

"Does he have the heart condition?"

"He did, but he's OK now. He's got a great doctor," Gemma assured him.

"How's that friend of yours that I shot?" Nate asked suddenly.

Gemma glanced at the doorway in case the doctor was still standing there. To her relief, he'd already left them alone. "He's fine, Daddy. You remember that?"

"Things are coming back to me," he replied. He looked down at his hands and added, "Sometimes I wish they wouldn't. I remember, and it hurts to know how much I've lost."

Gemma slid to her knees in front of her father's chair. "But you haven't lost me, Daddy. I always come back to you."

His hand covered both of hers. "Yes, baby girl. You always come back."

Gemma turned over onto her back and raised the important document to her face. While her father had been lucid, she'd explained the purpose of the new POA paperwork, and gotten him to sign it. A nursing aide had entered the room just as he'd signed it, and she agreed to sign off on the part of the paperwork that noted her as witnessing that he'd signed of his own free will.

The paperwork was now properly notarized. She'd taken a copy to the nursing home so that it could be placed in her father's file. 'Now I'm in charge of making decisions about him. That's as it should be!"

The chirp of her cellphone jolted her out of her reverie. She looked at the caller ID and smiled. The call was coming from one of the Stockton prison pay phones.

---

Tig stared at the receiver in his hand. The dial tone hummed like a lazy bee hovering over a flower. He shrugged and replaced it, then whirled at the sound of the receiver next to him being slammed onto its' cradle.

"Dammit!" Clay muttered darkly. His fists were clenched tightly to his sides.

"Runnin' into some female drama on your end, bro?" Tig inquired, falling into step beside his friend.

"Yeah. Gem took off to Klamath Falls without an escort!" Clay snarled once they were clear of the line of prisoners waiting their turn at the payphones.

"Shit!"

"It's a'right. Chibs called SAMRRO. Cat's boys are keepin' an eye on her," Clay explained. "She needed to see Nate; he's been down in the dumps since he was admitted."

"Left behind is more like it," Tig muttered.

Clay glared angrily at his friend.

"It's the truth. Gem took off in Tara's car; we took off like bats outta Hell after her. Ya saw how fragile Nate's memory was! He had to feel abandoned," Tig explained.

"I 'spose so," Clay sighed. "What kinda drama's goin' on with your old lady? She get into a cat fight with Colleen?"

"Not funny, bro!" Tig protested.

"I thought it was!" Clay grinned. He sobered quickly at his friend's sour expression. "C'mon, Tig, what's wrong?"

"Cat's dad is gettin' weak again," Tig grunted. "Prolly gonna be back in the hospital before too long."

Clay grimaced and lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. Tig had told Clay about his father in law's health problems after he and Cat had returned from Indiana so many months ago. "Sorry to hear about that. Is it gonna be a bad one?"

"Dunno. Cat didn't seem too upset."

"So she's stayin' put." Clay observed. "Guess that makes ya relieved."

"It does, and that makes me feel like a shit," Tig replied dryly.

"If it bothers ya that much, call her back and tell her to go!" Clay retorted.

"She won't go," Tig sighed. "She said by the time she'd get there, Blaine would be gettin' back home again. Guess she's savin' the trip for when she's really needed."

"So why the long face, bro?" Clay inquired. "If Cat's OK with the decision, why aren't you?"

"I guess it's because I'd want my girls to be around if I were that bad off and didn't have Cat in my life," Tig shrugged. "There's somethin' about girls and their dads. No matter how old a woman gets, they're always their Daddy's little girl."

Clay thought about his own wife taking off in order to be with her father. "Guess I'll have to take your word for it."

"Sometimes I wish I'd had a closer relationship with my girls," Tig admitted. "I love 'em, but they feel like I abandoned them. Maybe I should've fought harder for 'em."

"Like any court would've let you have custody of them?" Clay snorted.

"Joint custody would've been OK with me!"

"You would've been disappointed. The judge would've given full custody to Colleen just because of your record."

"As if he didn't anyway!" Tig muttered.

"Yeah. Think Cat co - erced Colleen to get the girls to contact ya?"

"She seemed pretty confident it would happen," Tig shrugged. "Guess I'm takin' a wait and see attitude."

"Ya need to do the same thing about Cat's father," Clay announced. "She's makin' the choice she feels is right for now. The woman's got a good head on her shoulders; look at the cover stories she'd given ya the last couple of times you've needed one!"

"I know that Cat wouldn't allow wild horses to keep her away from Indiana if she were really needed!"

"And if she does have to go, there's nothin' ya can do about it, Tig! Save your worries for other matters!" Clay assured him.

'That's easy for you to say! Gem's not lookin' at the possibility of losin' her Dad and not havin' you to lean on like my girl is!' Tig thought to himself. 'I'm not lookin' forward to the fallout if that happens while I'm here!'

---

Misty fled from the bed when she heard the shrill ring of the landline phone. Cat groped for it and raised the receiver to her ear. "Hullo?" She inquired groggily. She wondered if it were bad news from Indiana.

"Cat? It's Fawn. Why in the Hell didn't you tell me Daddy's in prison?" Fawn's voice was loudly accusatory. "I had to hear about it on television!"

Cat inched herself up against the headboard and drew off the sleep mask. 'At least it's not a late night rant from Colleen!' She squinted at the digital clock across the room. The large red numbers showed it was well past midnight. "You must've been watchin' a rerun of the late news then. Don't y'all talk to your sister?"

"Not since her cell phone was shut off!" Fawn retorted. "Too much chance I'll get an earful from my mother."

"And Dawn obviously doesn't reach out to y'all, either," Cat noted dryly. "Would've been nice if she had; I talked to her earlier this evenin'."

"Oh," Fawn's anger cooled a few degrees. "You did?"

"Yeah. I called your mother and gave her the news, then asked her to have both of y'all call me if she didn't want to be the one to tell y'all."

"Mother doesn't have my boyfriend's telephone number!" Fawn explained. "He doesn't want to deal with her."

"Smart man," Cat replied approvingly. "Guess I assumed your sister would pass the message on. Surely she knows the number."

"Well, you assumed wrong!" Fawn snorted. "So what's the deal with Daddy?"

"All the club officers, along with Juice and Happy, are unwillin' guests of the Stockton Prison for the next 14 months," Cat explained.

"What in the Hell for?"

"That fracas at Morado. It's Federal time."

"Christ! Daddy is such a fuck up!"

"Watch that tone, young woman! Tig's your father and doesn't deserve to be second guessed by y'all!" Cat growled. "Granted, he did make a major mistake that night and I'm not real happy about it. But what's done is done."

"I suppose you expect me to write and visit him!"

"I don't 'expect' y'all to do anything!" Cat replied. "It's be nice if y'all would think about your father's morale, but it's your decision."

"He obviously expects to hear or see us once in awhile if you reached out to my mother!" Fawn observed dryly.

"He hopes you two might write or call, seein' as how all three of you seemed to have mended a few fences when you were here," Cat admitted. "Trust someone who has been around a little longer than all y'all. Give your Dad a break; you don't wanna have to look back and wish y'all had done things differently."

A very long silence met that comment. "Are you speakin' from experience?"

"Sadly, yes," Cat replied softly. "Daddy and I didn't always see things eye to eye when I was your age. We had a period where we weren't speakin' and I'd give anything to have that time back."

'I forgot I have a step grandpa. Wonder if he knows anything about us?' Fawn sighed.

"Daddy has seen your pictures," Cat informed the girl. "Tig met my father a few months ago, and bein' a proud papa, showed off his daughters' pictures. Daddy was enchanted."

"He was?" Fawn asked in disbelief.

"Sure! As far as he's concerned, step grandchildren are just as much a part of the family as blood grandchildren. He has a step grandchild that lives in the same town, and he stays in touch with her each week."

"Wow," was all Fawn could say to that. "Is he the dude with glasses in all those pictures on your wall?"

"He is. We left some pictures of you and Dawn with him," Cat replied.

"For real?"

"Honest. So if you find it in your heart to at least write to Tig, you'll be all the better for it," Cat yawned. "If y'all want a ride to Stockton, I'll be happy to take you."

"Nah. I'll have my boyfriend take me, if I decide to go."

"Well, the offer's open if y'all ever need the ride," Cat yawned. "Sorry 'bout that, darlin'."

"That's OK. It is a bit late," Fawn replied contritely. "I probably should've waited for a more convenient hour. Hearin' about Daddy going to prison on the news kinda set me off."

'No kiddin'!' Cat thought to herself. "That's OK, darlin'. You and Dawn are welcome to call anytime!"

"You lie well, Cat," Fawn laughed. "Nobody likes to be woken up with angry call in the wee hours of the mornin'."

"True dat, but I'm serious about you two bein' welcome to call. You're part of my family, darlin', so don't think y'all aren't welcome just 'cause your father's locked up."

"OK. I'll keep that in mind," Fawn promised. "Good nite, Cat."

"Good mornin', darlin'," Cat grinned, replacing the receiver on the cradle. She slid back into a comfortable position on the bed. Neither Ebony nor Ming had been disturbed by the call and once Misty heard the reassuring sound of her person's voice, she hopped back onto the bed and curled up into a furry ball at Cat's side.

It never occurred to Cat during the conversation with Fawn to bring up the job offer. She had no reason to doubt Dawn's word, and Fawn had already indicated she didn't need her step - mother's offer of a ride to Stockton. As she drifted back to sleep, Cat believed things with Alex's daughters were about as good as they could get.

---

'Brownie' completed his internet research an hour before his friend was due to pick him up. He decided to wait outside, where he could smoke and relax. 'I'm sure the library staff will be happy to see the door shut behind me!' He found a shaded bench on the lawn, withdrew a cigarette, and lit up. He leaned against the tree trunk behind him, stretched his legs out, and allowed his thoughts to roam while he waited for his ride.

Many people would disagree with him, but Cory Brown firmly believed in his dark heart that Cat Marshall was responsible for all the disappointments that had occurred in his life since he'd been forced to flee Terre Haute so many years ago. Members of his own family, including his cop son, would point out that it was his own drug abuse and criminal activities that were at fault, but their efforts would go to waste.

News of the assault he'd performed on her and the search for him made news all over Indiana and much of Eastern Illinois. He had fled West and then South so that neither law enforcement nor the MC would apprehend him and make him pay for his crimes.

'That fat assed bitch robbed me of my dream! All I wanted to do after I got that bike was patch into the MC, and she stole it from me!' He reasoned - rightly or wrongly - that patching into the MC would put him on Easy Street. He believed he'd never have to work a regular job to earn a living and would've had access to all the drugs and pussy he could possibly want. That dream died the minute he tried to kill his benefactress in front of the club's hangarounds. He plunged head first into a never ending living nightmare.

His motorcycle finally broke down for good in Colorado two years after he left Indiana. All the money he'd accumulated had run out; there were no funds to repair it. He took it to a shop for an estimate and learned that the bike was beyond repair. He sold it for junk metal and resorted to his usual hustles to survive.

Those hustles failed to work for him. Whatever had attracted women to him like flies to honey was gone. Women reacted warily about him, and often ran off in the opposite direction when he started to woo them in hopes of getting both into their pants and their purses.

Eventually he took a minimum wage job and lived out of a homeless shelter until he could manage to save up enough money for a bus ticket back to Indiana. It took years for him to achieve that goal; most of his meagre paycheck went to feed his drug and alcohol habit.

His luck wasn't much better when he finally returned to Vincennes and knocked at his parents' front door. They refused to allow him to stay and slammed the door in his face. After he knocked and pleaded for several minutes, his younger brother ventured out into the front yard to talk to him.

"What's wrong with them?" 'Brownie inquired hotly, pointing at the front window where his parents stood looking out at him. He frowned at the expression of disgust on their faces.

"They're upset over what you did in 'Haute'," his little brother explained. "The whole family was in an uproar about it. Cops came here looking for you several times. The folks don't want anything to do with you because of it!"

'Brownie' gazed intently at his younger brother. "Do you feel that way?"

"Hell, no!" His little brother, who had just celebrated his 13th birthday, stated loyally. "If you beat the fuck out of that Marshall bitch, she deserved it!"

"At least someone understands!" He complained.

"You never shoulda hooked up with that fat bitch in the first place, bro!" His brother replied. "She was nothin' but trouble!"

"No shit!" 'Brownie' sighed. "Do ya have any idea where she is?"

His little brother shook his head. "I know that she refused to press charges against ya when she got outta the hospital, and that she moved around Southern Indiana."

"She still in broadcasting?"

"No," his little brother shook his head. "Rumor has it she got outta that after a job near Louisville turned sour. No one around here is willin' to say where she's livin'."

'That's not good!' 'Brownie' frowned intently. "Shit! What about her old man?"

"Guess he's still in the ministry. I know he and his wife divorced, but dunno where he is."

"That shouldn't be too hard to find out," 'Brownie' pointed out. "He's still in the state, and in that Methodist Conference. If I find him, I'll find her."

"You gonna get even?"

"Do bears shit in the woods?"

"Can I be there when it happens?" His little brother asked. His face lit with excitement at the prospect. He gazed at his older brother with a worshipful expression.

"Nah. This is personal, little brother. But there's other ways you can help me."

"Name it,"

'Brownie' requested that his little brother meet him later that night after their parents were asleep. "Get as much money together as ya can. I'm gonna go by the University library and see what I can find out."

"Want to meet at that Campus Christian Center ya used to hang around?"

"Yeah. I'll camp out in their basement."

"You won't get caught, will ya?" His little brother asked worriedly.

"Nah. I doubt they've changed any of the locks to the basement, and those were always easy to pick," 'Brownie' assured him.

The University library had an extension religious information section that included all the published journals for the Indiana Methodist Conference. It was through that journal that 'Brownie' learned where Blaine Marshall was assigned, along with an address. The telephone directories the library kept for all the towns in Indiana enabled him to find a telephone number.

Later that night, after the Campus Christian Center closed for the night, he easily picked the lock to the basement door and slipped inside. He knew the layout of the building and moved easily through the dark interior until he found the receptionist's desk.

The center had a special telephone on that desk. It only received incoming calls. There was no rotary dial or touch pad on it. That didn't stop 'Brownie' from making his call. He'd discovered how to make calls from that phone years earlier and put the knowledge to good use in calling Blaine Marshall's telephone number.

"Hullo?"

'Brownie' didn't say anything. His heart raced at the sound of the familiar voice. No doubt about it, he'd found Cat's father!

"Hullo?" The voice on the other end of the line asked again, a note of concern in his voice. "Is someone there?"

"Sorry! Wrong number!" 'Brownie' stated in a high falsetto before hanging up.

His brother appeared later that night with a few dollars, some food, and a change of clothes he'd stolen from a Goodwill donation box.

"Grandma is in the hospital; she had a faintin' spell when she found out you're back," his little brother reported.

"Is Grandpa OK?"

"Yeah. The folks brought him here so he can be with Grandma."

"So the house is vacant," He stroked his chin as he thought of his next move. "I can get there by shanksmere in a couple of hours. They still keep the key in the same place?"

"Yeah. That's a good idea, Cory! Safer than stayin' here!"

"True. The joint's isolated from the highway and pryin' eyes. You be sure to call if the parents head that way so I can make myself scarce."

"You got it!"

'Brownie' hid out at his grandparents' house until his grandmother recovered and was able to go home. By that time, he had managed to make contact with Blaine Marshall during a more reasonable time of day, pretending to be an old friend of Cat's who had lost contact with her.

"The last I heard was that she was livin' near Louisville, sir. The last letter I sent came back 'no forwardin' address'," 'Brownie' explained as earnestly as he could make himself sound. He used the name of one of her radio friends that he knew was now working in another state to lend credibility to his claim.

"I don't give my daughter's contact information to anyone just because they claim to be a former co - worker of hers," Rev. Marshall replied. "She's very cautious considering what happened to her a few years ago."

"I don't blame her," 'Brownie' exclaimed. "It was a terrible thing!"

"I was against her dropping the charges, but she insisted on it. She wanted to get on with her life, difficult as that's been for her," Rev. Marshall added. "She'd prefer to decide whether to contact you, so if you'd leave me your telephone number, I'll pass it on to here."

'Shit! I didn't plan on this!' Brownie thought quickly, and came up with what he hoped was a plausible lie. "I'm only in town for the day, then I have to head back out to Colorado. Just let her know that I called, and I wish her well."

"If that's the way -" 'Brownie disconnected the line in the middle of the minister's statement.

When he learned from his little brother that his grandparents were returning to the house, he grabbed what cash was on hand, packed his knap sack, and started walking. He was able to hitch a ride to Greencastle so that he didn't have to walk through Terre Haute and risk being caught by the MC.

The town Greencastle is located half way between Terre Haute and Indianapolis. The town had its' own college, DePauw University, which was affiliated with the Methodist Conference. 'Brownie' could keep tabs on Rev. Marshall's appointments within the conference more easily in that town. He could also use the campus facilities to track his prey. He was able to get a menial job at the university, which enabled him to eke out a living.

During his sojourn in Greencastle, he met and managed to sink his hooks into a young, lonely coed. Unlike Cat Marshall, the young woman was easy on the eyes, and believed every lie he told her without question. They married a few weeks later in a civil ceremony and moved in with her parents.

'Brownie' found himself completely in love with someone besides himself for the first time in his life. He worked to rid himself the drug and alcohol habit and completed work on his college degree so he could provide better for his wife.

He also made an effort to get back into his son's life. His ex-wife had successfully filed to have his visitation privileges revoked in his absence, fearing for both her safety and that of his son's.

'The gash would've never thought of doin' that had it not been for Cat!' Brownie fumed. 'She cited that assault as the basis of her fear and the judge just took her word for it! I never even knew about it until I tried to get to know 'Mouse' again!'

Thinking of his son pained 'Brownie'. Before he'd tried to kill Cat Marshall, his little 'Mouse' had looked up to him as the greatest man in the world. 'Mouse' fiercely loved his 'Daddy Mouse' after his parents split up. The few times 'Brownie' managed to visit, 'Mouse' would come running straight into his embrace, laughing and throwing his chubby little arms around his father's neck.

As 'Mouse' grew up, his feelings towards his father changed. He grew less enthusiastic to see his father when 'Brownie' would return to Indiana to pay a visit to him. He was always reserved and formal, referring to his father as 'Sir' instead of 'Daddy'. The supervised visits were difficult enough for 'Brownie'. The cold shoulder from his son was far worse.

'Mouse' was a teenager by the time 'Brownie' married again. The young man was happy that his errant father had settled down, but was adamant that he didn't want to be a part of his father's life.

"You've been away so long, Dad, that I don't know you anymore!"

"But we can fix that,'Mouse'!" 'Brownie' protested.

"No, we can't," the boy replied. "And I don't like that name anymore."

"So that's how it's goin' to be?"

"I'm afraid so. You had a lot of choices, but in my opinion, you made all the wrong ones. You didn't take care of me the way a father should. Mom had to work hard to make sure I had a roof over my head and food to eat. And you could've chosen not hurt that woman all those years ago. How can I be sure you won't turn on me like you did her?"

'Brownie's' eyes narrowed in anger. "Did your mother tell ya about that shit?"

The young man remained silent, stoically meeting his father's gaze.

"Well, she's lyin'!"

"She didn't have to tell me, Dad," the youngster retorted. "I heard about it every day from the kids and teachers at school. It was brought up every time I got into trouble." The teen glared angrily at his father and delivered his hardest verbal blow. "It's one of the reasons I don't want to grow up to be like you!"

'Brownie' was crushed by his son's declaration, and rarely saw him after that confrontation. He chose to concentrate on making a new start with his second wife, and put the past behind him. Once he finished his degree, he got a better job on campus that enabled him to buy a small house for his wife. They decided to start a family of their own. 'Brownie' was desperate to recapture the unconditional love 'Mouse' had taken away from him. He was determined not to make the same mistakes he'd made with his son.

Unfortunately, his years of drug and alcohol abuse made his sperm unstable and his wife was unable to carry a child to term. She suffered a number of miscarriages, the last of which took her life after the doctors were unable to stem the hemorrhaging which was a complication of the miscarriage.

'Brownie' walked away from the straight life following his wife's funeral. His heart and soul were full of rage. He'd lost all that he cared most about, but instead of acknowledging his own fault, he laid it all at the feet of one person. His determination to make her pay for his disappointments flared into a red-hot, steady fire.

He fled the state once more to metaphorically lick his wounds, hitching rides with truck drivers or hopping freight trains. He traveled across the country several times, growing more despondent and wild. He became a skilled cat burglar, breaking into people's homes and stealing all the small valuables that were easy to pawn. He'd use the proceeds to drown his sorrows and escape his pain for a while until withdrawal and the need to escape roused him from his stupor to steal again.

Sometimes he wasn't successful in his criminal activities and was often caught in the act. 'Brownie' became the proud owner of a criminal record for breaking and entering. He did several prison terms for his crimes.

Eventually his wandering brought him back to Indiana. His parents still refused to have anything to do with him, and his once adoring little brother - who had been burned one time too many by his older brother's hustles - also turned his back on 'Brownie'. That left his grandmother's house as his last respite until his son took him away, resulting in his current situation. It made finding Cat Marshall more important to him than ever. He was confident that he'd be able to find her at long last.

'One good thing about this digital age, it's so much easier to find a person than in the old days!' He looked down at his aching writing hand. 'I prolly wrote 50 pages of possible matches, but they'll eventually come down to one.' He took off his glasses and raised his face to the light blue sky as if swearing an oath. 'I've waited this long, a few more months won't hurt, and when I find her, she'll pay for what she's taken from me!'

---

The following morning, Cat met up with Ima, the prospects, and the gym staff to work on the clean up and repairs. Kozik accompanied Ima, though they traveled in separate vehicles. Once the prospects and gym staff began work on removing the bullets and spackling the holes in the wall, the trio met together in the office.

"Ima told me about the coupon thing between your coffeehouse and here. If Tig's OK with it, I'm in," Kozik announced.

"Then it's a go. Tig is definitely in favor."

"When do you wanna start the promotion?"

"When we reopen," Cat replied.

"What about the current members?" Ima interjected.

"Huh?" Both Cat and Kozik stared at her as if she'd just spoken in a foreign language.

"The current members. What are we going to do for them?" Ima replied.

Cat lay her head down on the desk in front of her. "Christ! I didn't even think of that!"

"Hell, ya can't think of everything!" Kozik snorted.

Cat lifted her head enough to glare over her glasses at Kozik. "I don't hear y'all contributin' anything of use!"

"Claws in, Kitten!" Ima laughed. "I gave it a little thought last night. Since the current members are already on deck, why don't we reward 'em with one free specialty drink a month for a year?"

"Damn, woman!" Kozik hooted. "Are ya always that generous with other people's money?"

Ima glared at him in shocked surprise. "It's just an idea!"

"And it's a good one," Cat interjected, sensing a fight was brewing. "Kozik put his mouth in gear without engagin' his brain first, right?"

"Huh?" Kozik looked at Cat in confusion. A well-aimed kick to his shin got his attention. "Yeah! Right!" He yelped. "Sorry, baby. I think it's a swell idea!"

"Don't try to placate me!" Ima hissed.

"Neither one of us are placatin' you, Ima," Cat explained. "In fact, it's a great idea. It'll show that we appreciate the current members for hangin' in here with us. Besides, once they get in the door of the coffeehouse, they just might buy somethin'!"

Ima narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

"Trust me, baby," Kozik interjected before Cat could reply in a huff over having her motives questioned yet again. "Cat never says anything just to make someone feel better!"

Ima gazed doubtfully at them, then shrugged her shoulders. "Well, that's my contribution to the cause, for whatever it's worth."

"And it's worth a lot, Ima. Thank you," Cat assured the actress. "I can tell y'all are goin' to be an asset to this venture!" She turned to Kozik and added, "She really helped yesterday when the gym employees got their feathers ruffled."

"My girl has that effect on guys," Kozik stated proudly.

"Let's get back on track here," Cat growled. "I've got an artist on staff, so I'll have him make up the coupons and the coupons for both businesses. I can send 'em to y'all by email for approval."

"Sounds good to me," Ima replied.

"Just send 'em to Ima. I can read 'em with her. Save ya a little time and effort," Kozik stated.

"Fine by me," Cat replied.

Kozik departed after the locksmith arrived to change the locks and he received his key. The glass vendor came through to verify the original measurements. That's when the women and the gym employees learned it would take a week for new shelves and display case doors to be ready.

Cat and Ima retired to the office with Eddie Cutter and the other full-time employee to discuss the latest roadblock.

"We can't stay closed that long!" Eddie protested the moment the door closed behind them. "We're losin' enough money as it is! Our members will get tired of waiting and find someplace else!"

"We know that," Cat grumbled. "Pacin' and fumin' isn't goin' to change things, so y'all might as well cop a squat!"

Eddie complied, but he didn't stop worrying aloud. "That's easy for you to say! You've got another business to fall back on! This is all I've got!"

"C'mon, man! I'm well aware of what's on the line here! No one's said the gym is goin' to stay closed until the front lobby is completely repaired!"

"That's not what you said yesterday!" Cutter protested.

"That's before we knew how long it would take to replace all the glass," Ima replied. "It won't look pretty, but we can go ahead with re opening and make the lobby functional until the glass is replaced."

"Right," Cat added. "We can put the trophies and things in storage until the display cases are ready for 'em. In the meantime, I don't see why we can't open by the end of the week."

The two employees gazed at the women, then at each other. "OK, then," Cutter acknowledged.

"So how are we going to get the word out about our re opening?"

"Advertisin', my dear," she grinned wickedly. "Good ole fashioned advertisin'."

"A newspaper ad?" Ima ventured.

"And radio and television," Cat confirmed.

"Television time's expensive," Cutter protested.

"So is not havin' any clients," Cat pointed out. "I'd rather spend a little up front to make sure that we keep open than run the risk of closin' later on."

Cutter pondered that for a few moments before nodding his reluctant agreement. "OK. We go the full media blitz, then."

"We can also put a blurb on the 'Charming Pawse' website about the gym's re openin'," Cat added.

"It'll coincide nicely with the coupon promotion," Ima stated.

"What in thunder are you two broads -"

Cat and Ima glared at Cutter, who gulped audibly and visibly groped for a different adjective to use.

"-um, uh, women talking about?"

"We've come up with a cross promotion between the Tragers' two businesses, the gym and the coffeehouse," Ima explained. "The established members will get a punch card giving them a free specialty drink every month for a year at the coffeehouse as a 'thank you' for staying with us."

"Meanwhile, anyone who visits the coffeehouse and buys 10 specialty drinks gets a free visit here. If they take out annual memberships, they get the punch card."

"How are you gonna keep someone from cheatin' the system?" Cutter inquired.

"That's where the work comes in, I'm afraid," Cat admitted. "It'll mean a bit of extra bookkeepin' on both businesses' parts, and some communication between all y'all."

"We figured that keeping a log book at both places is the best way to do this," Ima explained. "The client's name and punch card number or free visit coupon is written into the log books. When the bearer of a free visit coupon turns it in, a call gets placed to the coffeehouse to verify the coupon, and vice versa."

"Sounds like a lot of extra work to me. Can't we do some of that by computer?" Cutter grumbled.

"Depends on if all y'all have Excel installed. I prefer usin' it for spreadsheets of that nature," Cat replied.

"We've got it. Guess I need to set you two up with access to the computer." He huffed.

"It'd just be better if we both have the password to the administrator site," Cat instructed. "I don't have need of a personal window. Do you, Ima?"

The actress shook her head. "I can't see any reason for it."

"Lumpy had one," the full-time employee pointed out.

"Well, unless y'all know his password, it'll just stay there as a memorial to him," Cat replied.

"It only makes sense for you and the two of us, plus Tig and Kozik, to have the administration password and access," Ima noted. "Too many users on one computer mainframe can clog things up."

"I still don't understand why we can't instant message the coffeehouse and them us?" The full-time employee insisted. "It would save time!"

"True, but there's a lot of moisture in the service area. A tablet, smart phone, and/or laptop would be in constant danger of gettin' soaked!" Cat explained.

"Her employees aren't able to sit in front of the computer in the office very long anyway," Ima added. "They're out front tending to the customers."

"OK, how about this, the customer turns in their card or coupon, someone calls the other business, reads off the number on the thing, then the business being called checks their log?"

Cat and Ima exchanged glances. "It's your coffeehouse, Cat. You know the demands on your people better than I do," Ima remarked.

"Let me run this by my staff, see if they have any suggestions," Cat decided.

"You mean you haven't even told them about it?" Cutter hooted incredulously.

"No, but they're pretty good kids; they've never let me down on any venture we've gotten ourselves into," Cat informed the assistant icily.

"No offense intended, Cat." He stated apologetically.

"Well, just remember that y'all are handlin' this aspect of the joint venture and let me worry about the coffeehouse," she advised Cutter.

"Speaking of this aspect, we do have a webpage," Cutter announced. "I updated it with the same announcement as on our outgoing voice mail greeting."

"I noticed that this mornin'," Cat replied approvingly. "Would all y'all object to doin' some cross advertisin'?"

"You mean our webpage promoting your coffeehouse?" The other full-time employee asked.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Ima inquired.

The full-time employee shook his head. "I guess not," he muttered.

"It makes good business sense to cross promote," Ima explained. "Especially when we start the coupon/card deal."

"I suppose so," the full-time employee sighed.

"Better let us have your email addresses so we can send y'all updates," Cat added, writing hers out on a notepad.

Ima wrote hers out and handed the slip of paper to Eddie Cutter. He wrote out the gym's email address. "I just use it, My personal one gets nothin' but spam."

"Good enough. Let's check out the progress on the lobby," Ima replied. "I want to start repairing those pictures today."

---

Deputy Sheriff Cane reviewed the items that had been taken from Hector Salazar's body by the coroner and sent to the SJSD headquarters. Salazar's family was making arrangements to have his body retrieved for burial, the department had to make sure none of the possessions on his person were stolen.

'Not a lot to show for a life,' he mused to himself. The envelope contained the man's wallet, a prepaid cell phone, some coins, and an Olympic medal that was decades old.

'What the Hell would a Hispanic biker be doing with an ancient gold medal?' Cane wondered. Something in the back of his head nagged at him. 'Wasn't there a recent burglary where such a medal was listed as missing?'

He turned to the computer and accessed the file of Charming police reports. He scrolled to the date of the vandalism and assault at Lumpy's Gym and opened the report. "I thought so!" Cane muttered to himself. "That medal belonged to the gym owner!"

The gym's assistant manager, Eddie Cutter, was listed as the contact person. Deputy Cane tried the gym's number first, in case Cutter might be there cleaning up.

"Thanks for calling Lumpy's Gym. We're closed for repairs after the recent vandalism, but watch local media for announcements about our grand re opening coming soon!" A male voice announced after three rings.

Cane pushed the receiver button down to disconnect the call and tried Cutter's other contact number.

"Hullo?"

"Eddie Cutter?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Deputy Cane, San Joaquin Sheriff's Department. I'm calling to let you know we recovered your late employer's Olympic medal."

A wide grin broke out on Cutter's face. "You did? Terrific!"

"I'm sure you'd want to have it for your re opening. You can pick it up anytime during regular business hours here at our HQ building," Cane replied.

"Thanks!" Cutter disconnected the line, then dug a card out of his pocket and dialed the unfamiliar number.

"This is Cat!"

"This is Eddie, from the gym," he announced. "I just got a call from the Sheriff's Department. They have Lumpy's medal!"

"Oh, I'm so glad!" Cat replied enthusiastically.

"Do you want to go after it?"

"No, darlin'. You go get it and keep it safe until we get a replacement frame for it," Cat informed him.

"You sure?"

"Please?"

Despite their earlier disagreements, Eddie found himself melting from the entreaty in the woman's voice. "Sure. I'll take care of it today."

"Thank you. I'll let Ima know so she can add one of those display boxes to her list," Cat assured him.

"OK. I'll talk to you later."

Cat disconnected the line, then dialed Ima's number, sharing the good news that Lumpy's medal had been found.

"Wonderful!" Ima gushed.

"I agree. Think it would look good in one of those shadow boxes?"

"Definitely! Especially if we put some tissue behind it!"

"That would really make it stand out. Another thing I was thinkin' about to honor Lumpy's memory is to transfer the drawin' Adrian made of him to the gym."

"The one that was on display at the 'shiva'?"

"Exactly. Maybe have the portrait above his medal, or vice versa," Cat suggested.

"We'll try both ways and see what works best," Ima decided. "What are the prospects going to do? Complain?"

"Vociferously," Cat laughed.

"Well, they won't have much choice but to do what we ask, will they?" Ima remarked.

"Not a bit!"

Cat decided to go to the coffeehouse before returning home to rest. She wanted to bring her staff that was on the job up to date on the latest news. 'I can cover things with the ones who are off by phone,' she thought, making another note on her iPhone. 'This is not the kind of thing they need to learn about at the last minute!'

---

Kozik walked into the apartment he was sharing with Ima. Instead of haning his cut in the closet, he folded it over his arm and grinned triumphantly at his girl. "I got 'em, baby!" He announced, hoisting a small plastic bag in the air.

"You're patched!" She cried, rushing to wrap her arms around his neck.

"I'm patched, or will be when I put these on my cut," he grinned, returning her embrace.

"Want me to sew those on for you?"

He shook his head. "No, baby. This is something I gotta do myself."

Ima felt a momentary pang of disappointment at the gentle rebuttal. She fought it back and smiled brilliantly. "Do you have what you need for the job?"

"Stopped off on the way home to buy the supplies, baby," Kozik announced, releasing her and moving out to the balcony for the best light. "Fishin' wire, a heavy needle, and wire cutters."

Ima grimaced over the list. "Are you sewing patches on your cut or trying to land a shark?"

Kozik laughed heartily. "I know, it sounds weird, but fishin' wire is the best thing to keep the patch attached to the leather. Glue just comes apart, and I'm not losin' these patches for anything!"

She leaned against the sliding door frame, watching him placed his equipment on the balcony floor within easy reach. He spread the cut on the table, then removed his knife from the belt holster at his side. He slid the edge of the knife under his 'Sgt at Arms' patch and cut the wires holding it to the leather. He did the same thing with the 'Tacoma' patch before turning the cut over and removing the 'Washington' piece.

"What are you going to do with those?" Ima inquired.

"Retire 'em," he replied. He placed the patches on the chair next to him, then placed the new 'California' patch in the area where the 'Washington' patch had been.

"How do you do that?"

"Some guys return 'em to the charter, others burn 'em when they transfer. I'm gonna keep 'em in my box." He was referring to a wooden cigar box with a metal clasp that he kept on the nightstand on his side of the bed. It contained some pictures of his family, his prospect patch, his high school ring, and a few other momentos of his life.

Kozik squinted at the eye of the needle as he tried unsuccessfully to thread the fishing wire through it. "Shit! How do you women manage?" He grumbled.

"Let me," Ima offered softly, reaching past him to take the offending needle and wire from him. She wet the end of the wire and easily inserted it into the eye of the needle. She pulled on the wire until she felt there was enough length available that wouldn't snarl. "I've always found a double thread like this holds better," she explained.

"Thanks, baby," Kozik sighed, accepting the needle from her. "Looks like I need your help after all."

"Just call me when you need the needle threaded again," she replied, stepping away from him to return to the living room.

"Hang on, baby!" Kozik protested. "I'm gonna need your help to keep these patches straight 'til they're attached!"

Ima stared at him for a moment, then nodded slightly and placed her hands on either side of the 'California' patch. Kozik rubbed his cheek against her bare arm, then placed a kiss on the inside of her elbow before he began sewing the patch to his cut. When she was assured that the patch wouldn't bunch up and lie smoothly on the leather, she stepped back and watched him work.

When he had firmly affixed the back patch, Kozik turned his cut over, smoothed it flat, and lay the 'Redwood' patch on the left side, just above the pocket.

"Why didn't you get an 'Original' patch, too?" Ima asked. "Didn't you say you originally prospected with SAMCRO?" She placed her fingers on the patch to hold it in place while Kozik began sewing it to the leather.

"I did," he acknowledged. "Transfers don't get 'Original' patches."

"Couldn't you put your old 'Original' patch on?"

Kozik shook his head. "Can't, baby. It's not allowed."

"Well, I think it stinks!" She huffed.

"Thanks, baby. And not just for the help," he grinned, sitting back and admiring his work. The 'Redwood' patch fit perfectly where the 'Tacoma' patch had rested, and lie flat and smooth against the cut. He was proud of his workmanship, and happy that Ima had been interested enough to help. The fact that she felt offended on his behalf over the 'Original' patch made the blood run like wildfire in his veins.

"It looks good, lover," Ima observed. "If you cook as well as you sew, I might just keep you around!"

"I can't cook worth a damn, but I've got some better talents to bring to the table!" He smirked, eyeing her in a lecherous manner.

His obvious interest in her didn't alarm her like the gym employees' had. 'He gives a shit about me, instead of just wanting to brag about tapping a porn star,' she observed. 'And I like that!' She grinned back at him and purred, "I think a little show and tell is in order!"

"I like that way ya think, baby!" Kozik laughed, scooping her up in his arms.