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 mention of songs and performers in this text is also not intended to infringe upon any copyrights held by any of the artists.
All original characters that are not part of the SOA universe are products of my own imagination. Any similarities to real persons are pure coincidence.
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 FanFiction. Net.
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.
NOTE: The information about Jewish funerals and the practice of 'shiva' were taken from the internet site 'My Jewish Learning'. The use and reference to these practices is meant to inform and educate. No offense is meant to the Jewish community.
Charming Pawse
Book III
Chapter XX
Sitting Shiva
As soon as he was finished talking with his employer, Pete conference called the rest of the coffeehouse employees on his cell. Once he'd had everyone together on the same line, he explained why he'd called and they began brainstorming.
"From what I understand, Jewish funerals are held by sunset of the day the person dies," Pete reported.
"Hmm. Looks like we missed that one a bit," CJ noted wryly.
"Be serious, will you?" Pete growled.
"We'd best anticipate that it'll be held tomorrow, if not the next day. No matter when the funeral is held, Miss Cat is going to have the place open that evening for a Jewish wake."
"We should plan on it being tomorrow so we can be ready," Miss Anna advised.
"I agree. The biggest job is going to be putting up a 'Kosher' area. We have to keep the 'Kosher' and non 'Kosher' foods separate. That includes having separate utensils, plates, and cups. "
"Oye!" Adrian sighed.
"It's not going to be that bad," Miss Anna noted. "We can use paper plates, napkins, and cups, and plastic utensils. That'll make clean up pretty easy. We'll just have to keep the serving ware separate."
"Didn't Miss Cat purchase 'Kosher' cook and dinnerware last Passover?" Adrian asked.
"I think so," Miss Anna nodded. "She had a Passover supper for Mr. Feldstein. Why do you ask?"
"Just thought we might be able to use some of that service," he replied.
"Good thought. I hope someone's keeping notes so we have something to refer to when Miss Cat comes in tomorrow," Pete stated.
"I'm on it," Miss Anna assured him. "What about decorating?"
"I don't think we should do anything in the way of decorating. No black bunting, or anything else," Pete observed. "Just plain covers over the serving tables."
"What about -" Adrian stopped short before he spoke further.
"What were you thinking of, Adrian?" Miss Anna urged. "Was it your drawings?"
"Well, yeah. I have a pretty nice pencil sketch of Lumpy. Was pretty close to getting it finished the last time he was here. Do you think Miss Cat would mind if we displayed it like we did the Prospect's picture?"
"I think she'd love it," Pete exclaimed. "Go ahead and buy a suitable frame for it tomorrow. I'll make sure you get paid back for it. We'll eventually hang it where we put the Prospect's portrait."
"I was thinking we could put it in front of the ATM the night of the wake," Adrian offered.
"Good idea, you might want to get an easel to put it on," Pete suggested.
"OK," Adrian acknowledged. He greatly appreciated any opportunity his employer gave him to display his artwork. 'I just wish it wasn't under these circumstances,' he sighed. His memorial portraits of Half - Sack and the fallen Deputy Chief had led to serious inquiries for him to do work for many of the coffeehouse patrons, but it didn't make him feel any better.
"Now comes the good part, who's willing to work the extra hours? You know Miss Cat will make it worth your while," Pete stated.
"I'm closing, so I can stay extra," Adrian offered.
"I'm off tomorrow, but I'll come in if it's held tomorrow night," CJ added.
"Now, the thing we have to remember," Miss Anna stated soberly, "is that this is a solemn event; it's not like the other after hours events we've hosted. People are going to be hurting, especially those who were close to Mr. Feldstein. Miss Cat will expect us to be on top form."
"Naturally," CJ observed. "Do you think she'll want background music?"
"I don't know. I'm going to do some research on the internet about these things. That will point us in the right direction," Miss Anna replied.
"It sounds like we've covered all the bases, then," Pete noted
"Do you think the cats should be returned to the house during the wake?" Adrian asked.
"Definitely. They're amusing during the regular work day, but I get the feeling they won't be as appreciated for something as serious as this," Miss Anna explained.
"I'm sure Miss Cat will give us more guidelines once she has things finalized," Pete added.
"Are we expected to have snacks ready for the customers? Will they be paying for their drinks, or will they be free?" CJ asked.
"Good question, and I don't know the answer," Pete replied. "Knowing Miss Cat, she'll probably foot the bill for the drinks. We'll have to be sure to ask her."
"I'll email you the write up of this conversation, so you'll have it in the morning, Pete," Miss Anna informed him.
"Why didn't she call us about this? Is she still at the hospital?" Adrian inquired.
"No. She's out. She went to some emergency city council meeting. I took an auto dial call on it earlier today," Miss Anna reported. "They're voting on whether to keep CPD in operation or not."
"Oh, Lord!" CJ moaned. "Who's gonna watch out for the town if CPD is closed?"
"Supposedly the county," Pete muttered darkly. "Miss Cat's gonna speak against the idea."
"I hope they don't do something so bone headed, but with government, one never knows," CJ remarked.
"Anyway, I'll bring Miss Cat up to speed the minute she makes contact with me. Thanks, folks, see you tomorrow." Pete replied, ending the conference call.
The law firm's former receptionist glared at her buzzing cell phone. 'I'm really not in the mood to talk to anyone!' She hadn't informed her husband of her demotion yet. She was happy to still have a job, but she knew he wouldn't be happy about the reason. She'd only done what she'd been told to do by the higher ups in the League of American Nationalists that she'd joined some time ago. She embraced the group with open arms after attending a meeting and finding kindred souls who shared her feelings. When Ethan Zobelle himself had approached her about funneling information to him about any legal dealings involving the Sons, she was more than happy to comply.
'OK, no one from LOAN had asked me to delay any messages from the Sons for their lawyer, but it seemed like a good idea at the time! It certainly made me feel better!' she thought to herself as she went about her new duties. 'I'd do it again in a heartbeat if any of them had talked to me the way that Trager asshole did!'
She pulled out her cellphone and gazed at the caller ID. It was a blocked call. She was tempted to allow it to go on to voice mail, but dared not, in case it was Mr. Zobelle. The last time he'd called her, he'd used a blocked line. "Hello?"
"This is Ethan Zobelle. Are you alone?"
"Yes sir. I got demoted and put to the file room," she replied.
"I'm sorry you were demoted, but that puts you in an excellent position to assist me." Zobelle stated. "In fact, you'll be better able to assist me now than when you were a receptionist."
"What can I do for you, sir?"
"I need everything you can find on one Ibrahim Feldstein. Especially if there's a will. Can you do that while I'm on the line?"
"Sure. Give me a moment." She walked to the file cabinet marked 'F', opened it, and placed her cell on top of the cabinet while she searched through the folders. She finally found the one Zobelle had requested. She picked up her cell and announced, "I found it!"
"Good. Is there a fax machine in the file room?" "Yes sir!"
"Very good. I am going to give you a telephone number. Fax everything in the file to that number. The recipient will see to it that I get the paperwork. It's local, so there's nothing to worry about."
The former receptionist looked out the doorway. No one was near the room, but she didn't dare close the door while she faxed the documents. "Do you need it now?"
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
She winced at the displeasure in Zobelle's voice. She certainly didn't want to let the head honcho down, but she didn't want to put her job any further in jeopardy. "Well, I - I could get in more trouble, sir. I - I'm not sure that I'm allowed to fax anything."
"I see," he replied coldly. "You will be duly compensated for your effort on my behalf if that helps."
"How will you do that?"
"I'll make it happen. Don't worry. It won't be in any form will the government will take their unfair share, much less know of the 'gift'. If you are successful, there will be more such work in your future."
"What's the number?" She asked, stepping in front of the fax machine. She keyed in the number Zobelle gave her, then fed the papers into the fax. She waited and watched while the file's contents went through the machine, and quickly gathered them back together, replacing them in the file folder. "All done, sir," she sighed in relief. No one had passed by the open door while she'd been occupied with Zobelle's work.
"Good," Zobelle murmured approvingly. Give me a moment."
She replaced the file folder in the cabinet and returned to her original work while LOAN's top officer had her on hold. 'I hope everything went though OK, cause I sure don't want to risk that again!'
"I'm informed all the pages came through perfectly. Well done, my dear. Did you get a confirmation sheet?"
'Oh, shit! I forget that!' She rushed back to the fax and found the confirmation sheet sitting in the output slot. "Yes, sir. Shall I shred it?" She stuffed the sheet in her pocket for safe keeping until she could get to the shredder.
"Yes. Immediately. A member of LOAN will meet you at 'Hannah's Place' after work today, and will give you your reward. You have done well, my dear. Thank you."
"No sir, thank you for trusting me," she gushed. The line went dead in her ear. She slipped the cell phone back into her pocket and looked up in time to see Ally Lowen standing in the file room.
"Who were you talking to?" Ally inquired grimly.
"J - just my husband," she stammered. "I - I was just letting him know why I'm not working the phones. You know, in case of an emergency."
Ally frowned at the woman's obvious lie. She doubted the employee would call her husband 'sir', but she had no way to prove her suspicions. "In the future, you need to keep your cell phone in your purse while you're working in here," Ally instructed. "There's a lot of confidential information stored here."
"I would never take pictures of any files, Ms. Lowen!" The employee denied hotly.
"I didn't say you would, but we want to avoid any appearance of violating the privacy of our clients," Ally explained. She walked to the file cabinet marked 'F' and opened it, removing the file for Ibrahim Feldstein.
"May I ask what you're doing with that file?"
"You may ask, but I don't owe you an answer," Ally retorted, glaring intently at the employee. "Since this is your first day working in this position, I'll explain this only once. All attorneys in this office are authorized to remove files at any time, for any reason, and can return them at any time. We don't have to go through you or anyone else to do so. Are we clear?"
"Crystal clear, ma'am." The employee stated flatly.
"I would keep that in mind from now on; you're on thin enough ice as it is." Ally tucked the file under her arm and strode out of the file room.
The employee glared angrily after the lawyer. She took a blank sheet of paper out of the fax machine and scrawled a quick note on it. Before she used the fax, she peeked out into the hallway to make sure no one was approaching, then she pushed the redial button, sending her note to the number where she'd sent the 'Feldstein' file.
'That'll show her!' The employee thought acidly as the confirmation sheet slid into the slot. She shoved the original note and the confirmation sheet into her pocket and shred the papers the first chance she got.
Zobelle's crony frowned at the sound of the fax machine starting up. He wasn't expecting another incoming fax, and was scanning the paperwork he'd just received to send in an encrypted computer file to his boss.
His frown deepened as he read the missive from the woman at Rosen's law office. 'This isn't good! Zobelle needs to know this!'
He picked up his phone, engaged the scrambler Zobelle had sent him, and dialed the overseas number he'd been given for emergencies. 'If this doesn't count as an emergency, I don't know what will!'
"This is Zobelle."
"The girl from the law firm just faxed a note to me. I felt you should know about it."
"Read it."
"'Mr. Zobelle. Just after I faxed the file, one of the partners, Ally Lowen, removed it from the cabinet. She now has it in her possession. It might have to do with the fact that the subject of the file was attacked last night and is in serious condition at the hospital. I felt you should be made aware of this.'
Zobelle silently pondered the significance of the note for a few moments before responding. "You were right to call me. Add five additional bills of the same denomination we discussed to the woman's packet. Tell her I'm pleased by her resourcefulness and quick thinking."
"Will do, sir."
"And give yourself a similar bonus for having the foresight to contact me on the emergency line with this information," Zobelle instructed.
"Yes sir!" The crony replied happily. "The file is coming your way as we speak."
"Excellent."
The crony replaced the receiver and selected 'Send to' on the program that would send the encrypted file to Zobelle's email address. He then deleted the file from the program and the hard drive, along with shredding the faxed papers he'd received from the law firm.
Zobelle sat back in his office chair, a grim smile of satisfaction lighting his face. Things were slowly moving in the way he wanted in Charming, with minimal effort on his part. His plant in city hall had prevented CPD from receiving the email about the emergency city council meeting, insuring that Chief Unser wouldn't appear, much less any of his officers.
'It's unfortunate that my informant in Rosen's law firm was demoted. Unfortunate for her. It works out much better for me in the long run. Having SJSD take over law enforcement in Charming will be a major thorn in that club's side. How I'd love to be able to witness the difficulties Clay Morrow and those thugs will have in the near future! Alas, it is not to be done firsthand. I have to adjust and adapt to witnessing it second hand.'
If there was anything Ethan Zobelle was most experienced at doing, it was adjusting and adapting to sudden changes. He'd adjusted and adapted to the loss of his wife, just as he was now adjusting and adapting to the loss of his beloved daughter, Polly. He missed her dreadfully. Their home in Hungary was too quiet without her presence. 'Getting revenge on SAMCRO for her death will make my adjustment and adaptation complete!'
Kozik and Ima waited with Lumpy's body until the orderlies arrived to take him to the morgue. When he called Ally Lowen, the lawyer had assured Kozik that she would contact the proper synagogue authorities to make sure Lumpy's body was handled in accordance with Jewish tradition. Kozik hoped that would be the case, as he wasn't allowed to go to the morgue with Lumpy's body.
There was nothing else for them to do at the hospital once Lumpy's body was taken from his room. He and Ima took Lumpy's few personal possessions with them and walked out of his room for the last time.
Kozik walked with Ima to the parking lot and slid dejectedly into the passenger seat of her Toyota, staring silently out the passenger window. He had difficulty believing that his good friend was gone for good. His emotions changed with each passing minute from anger at Salazar for the killing and sadness at losing his good friend.
He felt bereft and some guilt at allowing time and distance to come between himself and Lumpy after he'd transferred to Tacoma. 'I always meant to pick up the phone and call, or write a letter, and never had the time to do that often enough!' He mourned to himself. 'I should've made the time!'
Ima could tell that he was in emotional pain and refrained from speaking during most of the drive. She emphasized with Kozik's feelings of loss and hurt, despite her never having known Lumpy. She'd felt much the same when she lost her grandfather. Before she pulled out of the hospital parking lot, she asked if he wanted to go to the clubhouse.
"If I do, I'll take the bike," he replied quietly. "Right now, I don't feel like being around them."
She nodded and turned her attention to her driving. 'At least he's not talking about taking off on his own. Maybe I should make a stop to pick up some beer or hard liquor for him.' She signaled a turn and pulled into a large liquor store. "I'll be right back, just thought I'd pick up a few things."
Kozik merely nodded, still staring out the passenger window at nothing.
Ima walked into the store, made her purchases, and returned to the car in record time. She carried a case of beer and a large bag. She placed those in the trunk and climbed back into the car.
"Sorry I'm bein' such a downer, baby," Kozik murmured before she could turn on the ignition. "
It's OK, lover. You're entitled," Ima assured him. "I'm here if you need me."
"I know," he replied. "Let's go home." He'd already decided that he would stay with Ima. No cruising the bars and drinking himself to oblivion. He hated drinking alone, and didn't relish doing so with the prospects. 'Piney would be OK, at least he knew Lumpy, but he wasn't as close to the old man as Tig. He'd be the only guy I'd feel comfortable mournin' Lumpy with, and that's just not gonna happen.'
Despite the situation, Ima felt a small thrill run through her at Kozik's request to go home. She took that as a sign that he was going to let her in to share his grief and pain. She wanted to help him any way she could.
Kozik helped her carry the booze in from the car, then stretched out on the couch with what would be the first of many beers.
Ima made tea for herself and settled on the couch beside him. She didn't try to touch him or offer any physical comfort. She wasn't sure how to proceed and felt content to let him call the shots.
Kozik leaned over to rest his head on her shoulder and sighed. A shudder passed through him that nearly shook the sofa from its' intensity. "I can't believe he's gone, baby," he whispered brokenly.
"He was pretty special to you," Ima observed quietly. She put her free arm around his shoulders and stroked his hair in a soothing manner.
"He taught me how to box, said it was better than basic street fighting. I liked him a lot."
"How did you meet him?"
"Ya really wanna know?" Kozik asked incredulously.
"Sure!" Ima replied. "Just because I'm a porn actress doesn't mean I'm not interested in people!"
Kozik smiled a little and related the story of his first meeting with Lumpy, just after the gym had opened. After he'd completed that story, she skillfully inquired into other memories he had of the boxer, allowing Kozik to find many happy memories to relive. She listened intensely to everything her lover shared, laughing and crying with him throughout the night until they were both exhausted and stumbled to bed.
Neither Stahl nor Tyler attended the emergency Charming city council meeting, though they'd heard all about it through the office grapevine. Some of their co – workers were betting on the outcome of the meeting.
It didn't matter to Stahl whether she wound up working with CPD or SJSD. The day had wearied Stahl. She'd had to find time alone in the office to obtain the information Jax Teller had requested on the Irish priest.
Kellan Ashby had a considerable pedigree within the Catholic Church, but there was a dark side to his dossier. He was high in the Irish Mafia, an entity that fought Jimmy O'Phelan tooth and nail for manpower and money on the Emerald Isle. Researching the information was one thing, getting it to Teller was a different problem. She couldn't email or fax it, either would leave a trail for some dedicated hacker in the tech unit to find and report. Nor did she dare call from her office phone. Every time Stahl had tried to call Jax on her cell, Tyler managed to be within hearing range.
Eventually, Stahl was able to grab a few moments alone in their room to work on some files. Her cell phone trilled to reveal an unknown incoming call. She gave Jax all the information on the priest she was able to dig up.
Jax gave her another name to look into, that of SAMBEL's SAA. Stahl was aghast to learn that another attempt had been made on the Redwood club but hid her concern by tersely reminding Jax that she needed him and Jimmy O'Phelan back in the states in one piece.
Jax snorted as he closed his burner. 'All she cares about is that God damn deal! She's never gonna learn!' Any further thoughts of Stahl were replaced by the presence of Maureen's daughter, Trinity.
He gave her one of his cigarettes, lit it for her, and sat with his arm around her, comforting her over the recent loss of several SAMBEL lads, including Chibs' nephew.
As Stahl was providing intel to Jax Teller, Tyler crept up the stairs to lean her ear against the closed door, listening in to her lover's side of the conversation. She heard Stahl hiss that the caller needed to return alive with Jimmy O or the deal was dead. She wondered anew if her lover had made an under the table deal with the SAMCRO VP. Such a deal went against all their agency's rules and regulations.
'I don't see how she can make such a deal work! Any information she gets will be tainted, and Jimmy O will go free! Surely she realizes that!' Tyler returned to her duties in the kitchen, but her mind continued to worry over her lover's behavior. She was past scared and venturing into frightened. Not just for Stahl, but for her own well being.
The more she thought about it, the more certain Tyler felt that Stahl was setting her up to take the rap for the bad shoot at the Hayes' house in Galt. She'd been waiting for the boom to be lowered on her since Gemma Morrow had given her statement at the hospital.
'Just because I've heard nothing from the investigating officers doesn't mean a thing!' She thought morosely. 'Nor does it mean much that I'm still on active duty with the unit! That just makes it easier for Stahl to keep an eye on me!'
Tyler had considered talking to the other members of the unit, ask them if they'd been questioned about the shoot. Fear of what she might find out and fear that her inquiry would get back to Stahl had kept her from doing so.
'I feel like there's no one I can trust within my own department, and that's the worst feeling a cop can have! If I can trust my own fellow agents, who the Hell do I trust?'
Hours passed in the dark, stuffy attic. Margaret and Tara were prevented from talking to each other by the duct tape the woman had plastered over their mouths.
'I guess we should be thankful she didn't cover our noses, too!' Tara thought moodily.
On the plus side, neither of their captors had returned to the attic to torment them. That was also a negative, as they could both use a stretch to alleviate cramped muscles, much less use the facilities.
When it was apparent that the man and woman weren't going to return to the attic, Tara began trying to work the knots binding their hands loose. The longer she worked, the harder the knots seemed to be to loosen and her fingers began cramping. She tried to soothe the cramps by opening and closing her hands a few times, wincing in pain from the pins and needles feeling.
She had no idea if Margaret was still crying. She knew her supervisor was scared, and she had every right to be. 'No matter what that tattoo is all about, I doubt that Margaret's ever experienced anything like this before!' Tara mused grimly.
Tara was scared, but also angry. She had no idea what the pair wanted with her except that it had something to do with Jax. 'What kind of cowardly asshole takes out his anger on women?' She snorted with derision when she recalled Colin Hayes had been just as cowardly, choosing to take innocent Abel from his home and family in revenge for his own son's death at Gemma's hands.
'These guys make SAMCRO look like angels!'
Margaret was indeed frightened, but she tried to think clearly. They were still alive, even if they were tied up and helpless. Eventually their captors would make their demands to their loved ones.
'I'm only of use to them to force Tara to go along with them. If she denies them, they'll threaten to hurt or kill me. No matter what their motives are for taking Tara, there's no way we're going to get out of this alive. We can identify them.'
She felt Tara's fingers touch her own in a comforting manner. Tara's skin felt warm and dry. She knew her fingers were cold and clammy, a sure indicator of shock.
'I guess I am in shock,' Margaret observed wryly, weakly returning Tara's gesture.
'This is going to be a very long night,' Tara thought as she tried to make herself as comfortable as she could against the post.
Neither woman could hear their captors anywhere in the house below them. Tara sensed they were still present; she hadn't heard either of the cars or the motorcycle leave the garage.
Eventually, fatigue wore on both women and their heads dipped against their chests as they slipped in a light sleep.
"Jesus! That bites!" Cat grumbled as she and Alex, accompanied by Ally Lowen, strolled to their cars from city hall. The council had voted unanimously to terminate CPD effective the end of the week, with the SJSD taking over the law enforcement in Charming.
"I really didn't believe Hale had the entire council on his side!" Ally remarked dejectedly. "It's almost like the public hearing was just for show."
"It prolly was," Alex growled, leading Cat by the elbow to the PT. "Knowin' how Hale operates, he had to have done somethin' to win the entire council to his side!"
"Maybe he used his powers of 'persuasion' like he did on Lumpy," Cat remarked. "It's the only thing I can think of that would result in a unanimous vote."
"Whatever he did, the vote's a done deal," Ally conceded. "Unser is going to take this hard."
"No kiddin'. Hale was so close to doin' a victory dance that I thought someone had dropped a can of ants in his drawers!" Cat remarked.
"Is that what it was? I thought he had to pee," Ally smirked.
"Jesus Christ! You women bein' catty enough?" Tig grumbled.
"Well, that is my name!" His wife grinned wickedly.
"Besides, we've got to let off a little steam, Tig!" The lawyer added. "A little cattiness between friends isn't always a bad thing!"
Tig shook his head and leaned against the hatch of the PT. "No matter how much caterwaulin' you wimmin do, it's not gonna change anything. CPD is history in a week."
Tig's comment dampened their mood quicker than a cold bucket of water. It also reminded them that they had yet to share the sad news with him.
"I'll look into that driving class to get Tig's license reinstated, Cat. I should have some news for you tomorrow morning."
Cat nodded and turned her gaze on her husband. "Wanna wait for me in the car, love? I'll be right with ya, just wanna discuss somethin' personal with Ally."
"Nope. You two can whisper if ya want, but I'm stayin' close to make sure nothin' happens!" He growled, crossing his arms over his chest.
Cat shrugged and turned her back on him, speaking in low tones to Ally. "This isn't goin' to be easy to tell him. He really loved that man."
"I told Chuckie and the prospects when I picked up his duffel," the lawyer explained.
"Good thinkin'. He might wanna drown his sorrows at the clubhouse as opposed to bein' around me. I'm gonna give him the option; it's the right thing to do."
Ally shook her head, "You're a lot more tolerant than I'd be."
"It's not like he's goin' to be able to take off on the bike; not with CPD keepin' an eye out for him!" Cat grinned conspiratorially.
"Let me know if you need any help," Ally replied.
"There is somethin' y'all can do for me. Light a fire under the coroner's ass to get the autopsy done so Lumpy can be buried in accordance with tradition."
"I already did. The coroner wasn't happy, but the burial committee is already at the morgue. The service will be tomorrow. I put the ad in the paper for the wake for tomorrow night. It'll be in the morning edition."
"Good. Knew there was a reason I like y'all," Cat remarked approvingly.
"Are you wimmin gonna flap jaws all night?" Tig called. "I'd like to get back to Lumpy before midnight!"
Cat winced and Ally laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Good luck with that, kitten." She waved at Tig and walked to her car.
Cat turned to her husband with a bemused grin. "Y'all are such a charmer, love!"
Alex's gaze softened as he grinned unrepentantly at her. "You got that right, baby!" His grin vanished in an expression of concern as he added, "Are ya gonna be a'right about goin' back to the hospital to be with Lumpy?"
"We're not goin' back to the hospital, love." She announced quietly.
"Oh, you're gonna drop me off and go home to rest, I hope?"
Cat shook her head and stepped close to him. She laid a hand on his chest and gazed up at him. "No, love. We're not goin' back to the hospital. Lumpy died earlier this evenin'."
Alex's face revealed his shock and sudden grief. "How? When?"
"A little earlier. Ally told me. She got the news from Kozik. He called us and then called her when he couldn't reach us. He slipped away between one breath and the next," Cat explained in the same quiet manner. "Ally has the synagogue people who handle burials at the morgue now. The coroner wants an autopsy because Lumpy died as a result of a crime."
"Makes sense," he muttered brokenly.
"I know it hurts, love," she added softly, running her hand over his chest. "I knew y'all would want to get away from here once you knew, so I made an out of town reservation for us where y'all could come to terms with this without people watchin' y'all."
Alex couldn't respond. He was reeling from the news, though he appreciated hearing it from her instead of Kozik. He was also amazed that she had somehow taken the time to consider his comfort in dealing with the loss.
Cat knew the news was a shock to Alex, and wondered if she'd made a mistake in planning a getaway for the night. This was the first major loss he'd suffered since Half – Sack had been killed. She'd hosted the entire club at their home that night because Gemma had gone on the lam and the clubhouse was crowded due to the lock down.
This was a much more personal loss for Alex. For all she knew, he might prefer drowning his sorrows at the clubhouse instead of letting her see him in a moment of weakness. "I guess that's not gonna be much help to y'all, now that I think about it," she stated quietly. "C'mon, I'll drop y'all off at the clubhouse, and go on home." She started to move past him to driver's side door of the PT. Her shoulders were slumped in dejection that she'd not let show in her tone of voice.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Wait a minute!" Alex reached out and gently grabbed her by the elbow, forcing her to turn back to him. He reached out to cup her cheek in his hand before crushing her body to his. "I can't think of anyplace I'd rather be right now than with you, baby. I – I was just overwhelmed for a minute. Didn't expect ya to do somethin' like that for me."
Hot tears slid down her cheeks at his admission. "It's part of my job to look out for y'all when you're hurtin' like this, love," she explained.
"Then let's go make use of that reservation," he replied, opening the car door and waiting for her to get inside. He didn't give her the chance to buckle the safety harness, choosing to do it for her. Then he closed the door and walked around the front of the car, settling into the passenger seat.
"Are y'all sure, love? I really don't mind if ya want to go to the clubhouse."
"Have ya changed your mind about bein' alone with me?" He growled. "Shit, woman! I figured you'd jump at the chance to have me all to yourself!"
"Just tryin' to be fair, love," she replied as she keyed the ignition.
"I'm sure, baby. Let's go." he replied, leaning back in the seat and making himself comfortable.
'It must be all the noise in here!' Cindy Eglee thought to herself, shaking her head and rubbing one ear with her free hand. Her other hand clutched a beer bottle as she gazed in surprise at her friend.
"You're looking at me like I've just grown a second head!" Nickie stated with a slight laugh. Her amusement quickly faded as she took in Eglee's shock. "I'm telling you the truth, Cindy! I had to be there as part of my job. The city council voted unanimously to replace CPD with the sheriff's department, effective the end of the week!"
"I – I don't believe it! The next council meeting wasn't for another two weeks!" Eglee gasped.
"This was a special meeting. The mayor had me send emails to all the city employees, and activate the auto dialer to send an announcement to the citizens. I was surprised that your boss wasn't there. That might be what caused the council to vote in favor of it."
Eglee shook her head again, this time in disbelief. If such an email had been received at the department, someone would've gotten the word out to dispatch and the officers would've attended the meeting with their chief.
"There's no way he wouldn't attend something that important!" Eglee insisted.
"Well, it's a done deal now, girlfriend. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."
"No, it's OK. I – I'd better go," Eglee got up from the bar stool and slipped her jacket onto her shoulders.
"Are you all right?" Nickie asked.
"Yeah. It's just a shock. I'll talk to you later," Eglee replied, stumbling through the crowded bar and on out the door. She breathed in gulps of the night air in an attempt to steady herself. She still couldn't believe what she'd heard, much less that Unser hadn't shown.
'I'll go check the computer at the station; it's possible the email might've landed in the junk folder by mistake,' she thought as she walked to her car. She knew better than to drive after drinking one beer, but the shock had pretty well sobered her up.
Eglee didn't see Unser's patrol car in the parking lot, which wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that his pickup truck was still parked in the lot. 'Maybe he had trouble with it and had one of the unis take him home,' she mused.
The station house was quiet when she entered through the back door. The dispatcher and a couple of the night shift officers were the only occupants of the building. The dispatcher was busy with a call, the two unis looked up at her in surprise.
"What are you doing here so late?" One of the officers asked.
"Just needed to check something," Eglee replied, sitting down at her desk and booting up the computer. Once it warmed up, she accessed the station email and checked her in box and the spam filter. There was no email announcing the special city council meeting.
'It's possible they might've just sent the notice to the chief,' she thought, squelching her momentary thrill of elation she felt at the discovery. She knew the state open door law was such that if proper advance notice wasn't given, the vote wouldn't be valid. 'I doubt they would hold the vote if there was any question of legality,' she observed wryly. 'Think I'll check the chief's email account, just to be sure.'
She walked towards the closed door of the chief's office. She knew his password for the computer and email as he often relied on her to handle some of the less pressing emails for him. She wasn't surprised to find that the chief's office was dark; she expected that since it was after business hours. What she didn't expect to find was Chief Unser asleep on the couch, and that made her gasp in surprise.
Her outburst woke Unser from his sleep. Unser was just as surprised as Eglee over the news of a special city council meeting. He recalled seeing no email about the special meeting and realized that Hale had been planning to pull CPD all along.
"Tell the unis to find Hale. I don't care if he's in bed naked, I want him here in half an hour!" Unser commanded, his eyes sparkling angrily.
"With pleasure, boss!" Eglee replied, gleefully striding out to the bullpen to issue the order to the uniformed officers.
Alex remained quiet until they passed the Charming town limits. "Pull over, woman!" He ordered, pointing to the side of the road.
"Are y'all OK, love?" She asked anxiously. He didn't usually ask her to pull over when she drove, unless something had upset him.
"Just pull the fuckin' car over!" He growled.
Cat hurriedly complied, signaling and decelerating in order to bring the car to a safe stop on the shoulder. She put the car in 'Park' and turned to gaze at him in concern. "What's wrong, love?"
"We're tradin' places!" He explained, unhooking his seat belt and opening the door.
She blinked owlishly in the sudden glare of the overhead light. "What the Hell are y'all doin'? Y'all can't drive on a suspended license!" She protested.
Alex stormed around the front of the car and opened the driver's door. He reached in and unhooked the seat belt before crouching next to her. "As long as I'm not in Charming, I doubt Sanwa or CHP are gonna give a fuck who's drivin' the car!" He reached out to place a hand along her cheek. "Baby, you're tired. It's been a long, difficult day for both of us. I'm not about to sit here like a bump on a log and let ya do all the work. I'm drivin', and that's it! Now move your ass!"
She glared defiantly at him for a moment, then sighed and got out of the car. "When y'all put it so lovingly, how can I refuse?" She remarked dryly.
"Ya can't, so don't bother tryin'!" He grinned, escorting her to the passenger side of the car and making sure she was comfortably settled, including buckling her into the safety harness and positioning the seat so she could rest comfortably. He closed the door and walked back to the driver's side, smiling in smug satisfaction. "This is much better!" He noted, starting the car and pulling back out onto the highway.
He turned on the radio and glanced over at his wife from time to time during the short ride to Stockton. He worried that she might have done too much. Her face looked pale and drawn in the soft light from the instrument cluster. He placed one hand on her leg as he drove, which she covered with her own.
"Thanks, love. Just let me know when y'all need directions to where we're goin'," she murmured, keeping her eyes closed.
"Absolutely!"
They remained quiet until they reached the Stock city limits, then he nudged Cat awake. "We're in Stockton, baby. Where am I takin' us?"
She reached for her iPhone and accessed the map, scrolling until she found the pin that showed their position. "Do y'all mind if I don't play navigator?" She asked tiredly, holding her phone out to him.
"I've got this," he assured her, taking the iPhone from her and glancing at the directions. He managed to work with the map and handle the car without difficulty, arriving unscathed at their destination.
Cat didn't want to admit it, but she was tired, and grateful that Alex had taken over the driving chores. She kept her eyes closed and relaxed against the seat, content that her man had everything under control.
Alex had expected to find that Cat had booked them into a hole in the wall hotel like the one the bounty hunters had used in Eureka and the SAMRRO charter had booked for Gemma. He was surprised and impressed when the map led him into the drive of a four star hotel complete with valet parking.
It unnerved him a bit to see a strange man open the door for his wife. He would've shot first and asked questions later had Cat not warned him in advance. He opened the hatchback to collect her bag and got another surprise when he spied his duffel sitting next to her small travel bag. "What the Hell?" He growled. "When did this get in here?"
"Earlier tonight," Cat grinned. "I had a little help from Ally. She retrieved some things for me as well."
"I'm not sure I like havin' another woman pawin' through your drawers," he frowned.
"Would y'all have preferred Pete or one of my other male employees to go pawin' through my drawers?" She laughed.
"Hell, no!"
"Well, there y'all go. Better another woman gettin' into my drawers than another guy!"
"Real funny, woman!" He glowered. "You do know you're gonna pay for that, don't ya?"
"I fully intend to!"
"And ya say I've got a one track mind!" Alex pulled the two bags from the hatchback and closed it while Cat handed the car key to the valet. She kept the rest of her keys on her. The valet handed her a claim ticket and climbed into the car, pulling away from them.
Alex surveyed the opulent surroundings while Cat was busy with the valet. He would've been happy with something less luxurious, and wondered if his cut might cause problems for his wife. 'Mundanes can be uptight about things like that,' he thought.
"This place looks a little swanky, baby. Maybe I should wait out here while ya check in."
"Are y'all nertz? You're my husband. Naturally, y'all are comin' in with me!" She retorted, taking him by the arm.
"Are ya sure?"
She led him toward the entrance, leaving him no choice but to follow along with her. 'OK, I guess she's sure,' he laughed to himself as they fell into step and walked up to the check - in counter.
The desk clerk took one look at the patches on Alex's cut and frowned momentarily before turning his aloof manner to Cat. "May I help you, 'madam'?" His tone of voice indicated he wanted to do anything but assist her.
Cat bristled at the clerk's demeanor. She narrowed her eyes and replied, "Yeah, first y'all can wipe that snotty attitude off your face," she replied.
'Uh, oh! Ole boy's gone and pissed her off!' Alex grinned inwardly. He was going to enjoy seeing his woman take the stuffy clerk down a peg or two.
"I don't know what you mean, madam," the clerk retorted, putting emphasis on the word 'madam' to indicate he wasn't being complimentary with the word.
Cat glared at the officious clerk, she knew he wasn't being polite and she didn't appreciate his attitude.
Alex tensed as he sensed that his wife was being disrespected. She squeezed his arm to let him know she appreciated his support, but to let her handle it.
"Y'all have a reservation under the name of 'Trager'. I called in earlier and paid in advance with my credit card," she stated coldly. "So don't even think of tellin' me all y'all are booked up, unless y'all want a major scene in your lobby!"
The clerk's face turned a bright shade of red, as he'd considered telling her that there was no room. His fingers flew over the computer keyboard and brought up her reservation. To his chagrin it was indeed paid in advance. "I have your reservation right here, madam," he replied stiffly.
"That's 'Mrs. Trager' to y'all, youngster. I'm not takin' too kindly to the way you're usin' that word," Cat snarled. "I'm sure y'all are no more sanguine about 'madams' in your lobby than y'all are about motorcyclists!"
The clerk's face turned even redder as he activated the key cards for the room Cat had reserved. There was nothing he could do or say, as he knew she had him by the short hairs over his behavior. 'I'll be lucky if she doesn't report me to the manager!' He placed the key cards in a packet and slid it across the marbled counter to her. "Please excuse me for any misunderstanding," he stated, "and do enjoy your stay."
"We'll certainly enjoy it," Cat assured him, glaring at the embarrassed clerk, "But there wasn't any misunderstandin'. Didn't your parents ever teach y'all not to judge a book by its' cover? In this case, just because my husband is wearin' a cut doesn't mean we're second class citizens!"
Alex grinned evilly at the clerk as he picked up the bags and proudly escorted his wife to the elevator area. He was still grinning as they stepped into the elevator car that would take them to their floor.
"What the Hell are y'all grinnin' like the Cheshire Cat about?" She inquired crossly.
"You," he replied, giving her his most wolf – like grin.
"I wouldn't be gettin' any ideas about ravishin' me in the elevator. Places like these tend to have security cams," she warned.
"Shit! That takes all the fun outta it!" He pouted.
"I'm sure y'all can wait until we get to the room," she replied with her own wolfish grin, glancing at the tell tale bulge in the front of his pants.
The elevator doors opened to their floor, and Cat led the way to their suite. She unlocked the door and turned to Alex, taking his hand in hers. "When we step inside, just drop the bags on the floor. I've got things set up especially for y'all."
They stepped over the threshold and Alex dropped the bags as she'd instructed. The room was completely dark, except for the glow coming from the flameless candles.
"Are we gonna play 'Blind Man's Bluff'?" He asked.
"In your case, it's more 'Blind Man's Buff'!" She retorted, still holding onto his hand. "Take a deep breath, and tell me what you smell."
He did as she requested. "Pine like a forest, and salt air, like the sea."
"That's right," she replied, moving forward now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. "Now keep your eyes closed and trust me." Her hand moved from his to cover his eyes. She had to stretch to do so, but managed it.
"What kinda talk is that? Of course I trust ya!" He sputtered. "And why are ya puttin' your hand over my eyes?"
"I'm just makin' sure y'all don't peek." She slid her free hand over the light switches, which caused the desk and bedside lights to come on. There was just enough light for her to tolerate without the insert. "Wait right there, and no peekin'!"
"This better be worth it!" He growled.
"It will be," she promised.
The Jacuzzi stood across the room from the bed. It was made of polished marble in a light sand color. The bucket of iced down beer was on a stand next to the whirlpool. There was a television and a fancy stereo, which was already pre set to her favorite radio station.
The concierge had included a snack tray of mini sandwiches, fruits, and cheeses. There was a second ice filled bucket of non alcoholic beverages sitting on the Jacuzzi ledge.
Cat turned on the stereo and started the water running in the Jacuzzi. The haunting strains of Gerry Rafferty's 'Baker Street' poured from the speaker, but didn't mask the sound of the water running.
"What the Hell are ya doin', takin' a bath while I'm standin' here like a statue?"
"Not quite, love. Be patient," she replied, walking back to stand beside him. She took his hand in hers and led him towards the Jacuzzi. Keeping one eye on the filling whirlpool, Cat slid Alex's cut from his shoulders and placed it reverently on the back of a chair. Then she slowly unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his tempting chest.
"Can I open my eyes?" He asked excitedly.
"Nope. And y'all can't touch me, either," she instructed, smacking at the hands that were trying to work her own buttons free. "Just enjoy what I'm doin' to y'all."
"Oh, I am, baby!"
"I can tell," she laughed as she unhooked his belt. She worked slowly, heightening his anticipation over what was to come.
"Step outta your britches, love," she instructed, holding on to his hands as he complied. She picked up one foot, slid the boot and sock from it, then guided it to the floor only to repeat the motion with his other foot.
Alex was now naked and fully erect in front of her. His cock waved invitingly in front of her face as she helped him out of his boots. She planted a kiss on the tip that made him suck air through his teeth.
"Damn!"
"Stay right there, love, don't move a muscle," she ordered, turning off the water faucets and quickly slipping out of her own clothing. She found a piece of plastic that she wrapped around her cast and climbed the steps into the whirlpool.
The water was just the right temperature, so she slid into the tub and turned on the jets. The water frothed around her, enhancing her own anticipation. It felt like small fingers were massaging her all over, including places she didn't know she had. "OK, love, open your eyes and come join me!"
Alex opened his eyes to take in the Jacuzzi, and his wife sitting in the swirling water of the tub, grinning invitingly at him. One hand rested on the bucket of cold beers.
"Wow!" He grinned with delight at the scene before him. He'd never expected his wife to come up with something like this!
"Are y'all gonna stand there lookin' like a clothes hook, or are y'all gonna come in?" Cat taunted.
In seconds, Alex was splashing his way across the Jacuzzi to her. "You bet I'm gonna come in!" He growled, taking her in his arms and pushing her against the back of the Jacuzzi.
"Don't y'all want a beer?"
"Fuck the beer! I wanna be inside you!" He retorted, putting his words into action as he kissed her passionately and matched his actions to his words, settling into a smooth pulsing rhythm.
He rode her hard and fast, the pulsating jets of water driving them both to a rapid, crushing climax. At the very moment that he spilled into her moist cavern, Alex collapsed against her while giant sobs of grief over the loss of his friend shuddered through him.
Jacob Hale was in high spirits. He'd finally gotten something he wanted. In this case, it was the termination of CPD. By the end of the week, CPD would close, and the SJSD would take over law enforcement matters in Charming.
'There's probably a few members of the Sheriff's department who are on Clay Morrow's payroll,' Hale thought to himself as he enjoyed a celebratory pie and coffee at 'Hannah's Place'. 'Still, that's not like having the head town cop on the SAMCRO payroll. The impact to what I want to accomplish will be minimal.'
A shadow fell across his table from the overhead fluorescent lights. Hale looked up into the face of the deputy in charge of SJSD's gang intervention unit.
Eli Roosevelt slid into the booth onto the bench across from hale without waiting for an invitation. Roosevelt was dressed in civilian attire, but there was no mistaking the no – nonsense vibe the lawman gave off.
"I hope I haven't left my wife alone for nothing," Roosevelt stated as he stared at Hale.
"CPD is history. SJSD will take over next week. I've already suggested to the mayor that he specifically request you take the reins of the Charming substation." Hale explained.
"Suggested? I thought you said this would be a done deal!" Roosevelt growled.
"Relax, Eli," Hale replied expansively. "It's a figure of speech. To all intents and purposes it is a done deal. The current mayor is a lame duck. He can't be re elected to another term, I've got the office virtually won. The mayor's not going to rock the boat now after I managed to shut down our town's police force through a unanimous vote!"
Roosevelt waved the approaching waitress away. He wasn't interested in food or drink. He just wanted to get out of there and back home. "You'll forgive me for a lack of faith after that wild dope chase you sent me on the other day," he replied scornfully.
"Hey, even Superman has an off day," Hale grinned. He wasn't going to allow anything to take him down from his emotional high, not even bad intel. "Like I told you, the tip seemed genuine at the time. No one's going to blame you for following up on a tip. That's what the county expects."
Roosevelt stared at the property baron. "I've been hearing about some shady dealings on Liberty Street, lots of property being bought up under questionable methods," he stated.
"Really? I wouldn't know anything about that. That area's been in need of revitalization for a long time, so I wish whoever's buying the properties well."
'The man is lying through his teeth, but he's good at it,' Roosevelt thought. 'If I get the post here, he's definitely going on the 'watch' list. I don't trust him any further than I can throw him.' He slid out of the booth to stand beside the table, staring down at Hale. "I'm sure you don't. I'll be waiting to hear about the posting."
"I'm sure you'll hear something favorable in the near future," Hale assured him, holding out his hand. Roosevelt stared at the proffered hand, then snorted and turned his back on Hale. He walked to the door and on out to his Jeep without looking back.
Hale lowered his hand to the table and smiled grimly. That had gone about as he expected. Roosevelt would run the Charming sub station, but it was obvious he wouldn't run things the way Hale waned them run. That didn't mean he wouldn't get his way about eliminating SAMCRO from the picture. He just needed help from a higher authority than Roosevelt.
He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number to the Federal Government. It was time for him to call in a favor he was owed. It would take time to set things up, but once everything was in place, life as SAMCRO knew it would get very difficult in Charming.
Hector and Luisa dumped the contents of their captives purses onto the floor, sorting through the contents. The first thing they checked were the women's wallets for their IDs. The one for Tara matched up with the address where she'd parked the vintage black Olds. They also found her work ID, identifying her as Dr. Tara Knowles.
"She was telling the truth," Luisa huffed, throwing the wallet onto the floor in disgust. "She is a doctor!"
Hector had unearthed Margaret's driver's license and hospital ID. "This one, too. Despite the ink. She's an administrator after all." He let the wallet slip through his fingers to join Tara's wallet.
"So what do we do now?" Luisa inquired.
"We wait until morning. There's no one we can contact right now with the club until then." Hector explained.
"Are you sure that's wise? What if they're missed?"
"Nobody will miss them tonight," Hector assured her.
"Jax Teller is out of town for at least 10 days."
"What about the supervisor?" Luisa asked worriedly. "She might have family that will worry about her."
"Let them worry. So what if they call the cops?" Hector chuckled nastily. "They'll never find her unless they search every house in the county! For now, we sleep, and then we'll deal with those bitches in the morning. After a night up there, they'll be jumping all over themselves to co operate with us!"
"Mmmm. I like the way you think, baby," Luisa purred.
"Then you'll really like what I have planned for SAMCRO tomorrow!" Hector laughed, drawing her into his arms to cuddle with him.
"What's that, Hector?" He filled her in on his plan not only to make SAMCRO sweat, but to get revenge against Marcus Alvarez for taking his cut and his club from him. "SAMCRO won't be able to get the money unless they kill Alvarez. When they do that, they'll breach the agreement with the Mayans, and Charming will be ripe for the picking – our picking! We won't need our traitorous club that wouldn't stand behind me!"
"Sounds good to me, baby," Luisa agreed. Hector could say they were going to relocate to the moon, and she'd go with him. Her one and only loyalty was to him.
A series of loud bangs penetrated Hale's slumber. He opened an eye to groggily stare at the alarm clock. "Who in God's name would be knocking on my door at this time of night?'
The banging persisted, sounding all through the house with such intensity he feared the pictures on the wall would fall to the floor. He sat up on the side of the bed, reaching for his robe with one hand and sliding his feet into his slippers. He stumbled to the door and down the stairs, blinking from the harsh overhead lights he'd turned on to light his way. Another series of insistent bangs rattled his front door.
"All right! All right! Hold your horses! I'm coming!" He shouted angrily, rushing down the stairs to the front door. He threw on the porch light, hoping to put whoever was standing there at as much of a visual disadvantage as he was in. He peeked out the security window and sighed in resignation at the sight of two CPD uniformed officers on his front steps. He opened the door far enough to stick his face through the opening. "What the Hell do you want at this time of night?" He snarled.
"Chief Unser has requested your presence in his office, Mr. Hale." One of the officers replied.
"Fine. Tell him I'll be there at a more decent hour later! Hale started to close the door, but the other officer slid his foot directly between the door and the frame, preventing him from closing it.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" Hale roared.
"The Chief has requested your presence now, sir." The officer whose foot was keeping the door open stated. "We have orders to bring you in. If you won't go willingly, we have authority to bring you in involuntarily."
"Which really wouldn't look very good to someone with designs on the mayor's office," the second uniformed officer remarked with a nasty grin.
Both officers had their hands resting on their holstered guns and on the handcuff pouch on the back of their belts. "So you have two choices, the easy way, or the hard way," the grinning officer continued.
"Either way," the other officer promised, "you will be coming with us."
"Do you mind if I put on some street clothes first?" Hale inquired dryly.
"If you insist," the first officer replied. "My partner will go with you, just as a precaution."
'So much for sneaking out the back door!' Hale thought angrily, turning his back on the officers and heading back up the stairs. "Am I at least allowed some privacy while I change?" He snarled.
"Certainly, as long as you don't use the phone or try to sneak out a window," the officer jovially replied. "Just leave the door open so I can hear what's going on."
Hale grunted and stepped into his bedroom. He thought about texting his lawyer but decided against it. He wouldn't put it past the officer to suddenly decide to keep an eye on him instead of being content to stand just outside the bedroom door.
He slid into a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt, and stuffed his feet into a pair of moccasins. At this late hour, there was no chance that anyone would expect him to be wearing a suit. "All right, let's get this over with," Hale muttered to the waiting officer.
"After you, Mr. Hale," the officer invitingly gestured at the stairwell, indicating Hale should precede him down the stairs. They met the other officer who was waiting in the foyer, just inside the doorway. He opened the door and allowed Hale to step out onto the porch, the two officers followed behind him. Hale locked his home, then looked inquiringly at the two officers. "Am I driving myself?"
"Oh no, sir," the officer who'd been upstairs with him replied. "We're driving you." He held the back door open for Hale, like a chauffeur holding the door open for his employer. "If you'd please, sir?"
"You're going to put me in the back seat like any criminal?" Hale gasped in disbelief.
"Unfortunately, it's the only seat available," the officer replied. His tone of voice indicated his surprise that Hale would suggest one of the officers ride in the back seat.
Hale glared angrily at the officer, whose expression remained calm and somber. His partner, who was already sitting in the driver's seat, was shaking with suppressed laughter.
Hale shrugged his shoulders and climbed into the back of the squad car. 'Thank God it's the middle of the night. There won't be any people to see me in this contraption!' He tried to reassure himself, but his face still burned with embarrassment as he slid as far as he could into below the door frame.
"Please sit up straight, Mr. Hale," the cop behind the steering wheel stated. "It's for your safety." Hale straightened up with a snort of disgust. Unser was definitely going to get quite a piece of his mind!
Ally Lowen sank onto her sofa, exhaling in a long, tired sigh. She was completely exhausted from dealing with Lumpy's death and the city council meeting.
Convincing the coroner to push through Lumpy's autopsy hadn't been as easy as she'd led Tig and Cat to believe. The coroner hadn't objected to the need for a speedy autopsy, but had balked at allowing the Jewish burial committee to be present. "It's not standard procedure to have anyone witness an autopsy!"
"That may be, but this isn't a standard circumstance. The deceased happened to be Jewish. They have very strict guidelines pertaining the death of their own," Ally had argued.
"It's still not proper, and I'm not going to allow it!" The coroner insisted.
"I'm afraid you don't have any choice," Ally persisted. "Mr. Feldstein has a legal right have his faith recognized in this instance. I really don't want to have to get a court order to make you allow the committee to be present." Before the coroner could argue further, she added, "Technically, Rabbi Lichtenstein didn't have to agree to the procedure at all. The fact that he is allowing this puts you in the position of needing to reciprocate in a like manner."
"In other words, I have to allow witnesses," the coroner grumbled.
"They won't interfere, unless you try to keep back any organs," she explained.
"OK, OK! I'll do it!" The coroner huffed, slamming the receiver in the attorney's ear.
She felt satisfied about her efforts on Lumpy's behalf. He had trusted her to see to his final wishes, and so far things had gone well. The funeral was set, the burial committee was on the job, and Cat Marshall was handling the wake.
She poured a glass of wine and reached out to pet her cat. When she'd first come home, the finicky feline had snubbed her when he smelled a 'strange cat' on her hands.
"Yes, I was unfaithful, and petted another kitty!" Ally exclaimed, laughing at her cat's haughty behavior. "You'll come around when you want something, just like most men!"
True to her words, her cat hopped up next to her on the couch, placed a paw on her thigh, then curled up on the couch next to her, purring contentedly. Ally sipped her wine and finally allowed herself to grieve the loss of her client and friend.
Alex awoke from a deep sleep, momentarily startled to find he wasn't at home. He was reassured by the presence of his woman curled up in the bed beside him. Cat's head rested on his chest while his arm was curled around her shoulder. He remembered they were in a luxury hotel in Stockton. Cat had brought him there after he'd learned of Lumpy's death.
His body heated as he recalled how she'd helped him relax enough to be able to grieve for his friend. Though he hadn't slept long, he felt as refreshed as if he'd slept more than eight hours. He'd sated many of his physical desires that evening, but one was starting to make it's need for attention known again.
'I really wore her out earlier. Not sure if she'd be up to another round so soon,' he thought affectionately, running his hand along her bare arm. Cat had really come through for him in his moment of need. She'd given him a safe place to mourn his loss where none of his brothers would hassle him.
'She fed me in more ways than one without even knowin' if I'd stay with her tonight!' He mused in wonder. 'It's damn sure I wouldn't have gotten this kind of treatment at the clubhouse!'
She'd allowed him to cry on her shoulder, literally and figuratively. Never once did she make him feel any less of a man for showing his feelings over losing Lumpy to show. She made sure he ate, gave him beer to settle his nerves, and her body as a balm to his soul. 'I'm damn lucky to have her!'
He stretched again, allowing his muscles to expand and contract. The bed was larger than theirs at home. As usual, Cat was snuggled against his warmth while she burrowed under the covers. She moaned slightly as he shifted against her.
"I'm a'right, baby," he murmured soothingly, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "Go back to sleep."
He glanced across the darkened room to the whirlpool, now standing silent and empty. 'We definitely gave that thing a workout!' he grinned. His cock rose in steady agreement, making a peak in the mountain of bed covering. 'Easy boy. There's plenty of time for that later!'
When he'd first learned from Cat that Lumpy had passed away, he'd wondered how he'd be able to get through the funeral service. Now he felt that he could meet the challenge without falling apart on the inside. 'This beats gettin' wasted and pickin' a fight at some cheap bar!
Hale spent the ride home from CPD thinking over his early morning interview with the police chief. He had anticipated that Unser would be upset over the unanimous vote to replace CPD with the sheriff's department. What he didn't expect was to find out that Lumpy Feldstein had died from his injuries.
'Shit! If it ever gets out that I hired that thug, I'll be charged with accessory to murder!' He'd thought when Unser hinted that he suspected either Hale or the other Liberty Street investors of the crime.
Jacob had quickly overcome his shock and fear to play a bluff much as he had earlier when Cat Marshall had challenged him in public about the attack on Lumpy. "Good luck selling that story to the prosecutor!" He retorted scornfully. "You've got nothing to prove that."
"True, I don't have anything concrete at the moment," Unser replied stonily. "Funny thing about evidence, you never know what you'll find when you start digging in the right place."
Hale laughed mirthlessly, commenting how such shoddy police work had caused the unanimous vote. He stood up and walked to the door before firing a parting shot over his shoulder, "I'd think you'd want to do something more productive with your last week in operation than go on a wild goose chase."
"Yeah? Maybe I like the taste of wild goose," Unser countered. He called out to the uniformed officers that had brought Hale in. "Get him out of my station house!"
Hale now stared out the patrol's car side window and wondered what effect Lumpy's death would have on the insurance claim. He'd already tried to find out who had called in the claim for Feldstein from the insurance adjustor assigned to inspect the damages at the gym. The adjustor had refused to talk to him.
Hale wasn't worried about being seen riding in the back of the patrol car on the return trip to his house. It was very early in the morning and very few people in his neighborhood were up that early. No one would notice the patrol car pulling into his driveway, much less him getting out of it.
He walked tiredly to his front door, keyed open the lock and stepped inside. The small hall lamp on the table brightened the darkness a bit. He walked into his den, turning on the light as he stepped over the threshold to and walked to his bar. He poured a stiff two fingers of straight bourbon and sank into his leather recliner. He didn't take a sip of his beverage. He merely held it while his mind raced over the new impediment to the Liberty Street project.
'I should demand Salazar repay half of the money I gave him!' Hale mused. 'I never told him to kill the old man, just scare him into selling!" The thought comforted him for all of two seconds before reality set in. He snorted and took a large gulp of the bourbon, feeling its warmth run through his veins.
'Hah! The minute I suggest it, Salazar would kill me as soon as look at me!' He thought grimly. 'That's just not going to work at all.'
He guiltily recalled that Salazar had demanded he provide Tara Knowles work address. He had a suspicious feeling that the killer had nothing good planned for the doctor. He thought again about telling someone in law enforcement about the possible threat.
'Won't do any good. If I call it in as an anonymous tip, there's not a lot that Unser or anyone else could do about it except to send a patrol car by once in awhile. That's a great deterrent!'
He really didn't want to go out again in the early morning darkness to find a payphone to make the call. He wasn't dumb enough to call from his home, office, or cell phone. The cops would just trace it back to him and that would open doors that Hale wanted kept closed. He determined it was wiser to keep his mouth shut instead of rocking the boat.
He turned his thoughts back to the gym on Liberty Street. 'If Lumpy died without a will, I'll have to wait for the State to determine what happens to his property. That's going to take time I don't have. But how in the Hell am I going to find out if there was a will or not?"
His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned and dug it out, staring at the caller ID. The call didn't register any location at all, nor did it show a number. He immediately knew who was calling. "This is Jacob Hale."
"This is Zobelle. I'm using a scrambler so this call can't be traced, but am not going to take long. Congratulations on killing the Charming Police Department."
"Thank you, sir."
"Feldstein's death poses a problem. There are new obstacles in the way that will be difficult to overcome."
"I was just thinking about that myself, sir," Hale replied. "As you know, a lot hinges on whether he had a will or not."
"He did. He left the gym to two members of the Sons of Anarchy: Alexander Trager and Herman Kozik."
"Jesus Christ! Those two will never sell!" Hale exploded.
"It gets better," Zobelle replied coldly. "He made Cat Marshall, aka Mrs. Trager, the executrix."
"Shit! We're doomed!" Hale moaned.
"While none of them will give in to any form of 'persuasion', the project is definitely not 'doomed'." Zobelle intoned.
"I know what I could do!" Hale replied excitedly, hoping to earn some points with the LOAN shot caller. "I could hire another person to threaten that bitch! Then they'll be convinced to sell! Maybe get somebody brawny and menacing, like those bounty hunters you bought a few months ago!"
"You were not paying attention, Jacob. I don't like to repeat myself. Mrs. Trager doesn't back down from any cause she believes in. I learned that when she stood up to me about her employees. Have you forgotten that she managed to hold that peace rally against me in spite of your interference?"
"I haven't forgotten," Hale shrugged. "It was just a suggestion."
"And this is my suggestion, which you will carry out. Go to Mrs. Trager tonight and tell her that the gym is no longer being sought for purchase. We will integrate the gym into the project."
"But if I do that, she'll know I was behind Feldstein's death!" Hale protested.
Zobelle drew in a deep, audible breath. "You have a very bad habit of jumping to conclusions, Jacob. You tell her that the investors asked you to forward the offer on their behalf. Tell her any renovations necessary to integrate the gym into the project will be paid by the investors."
Hale remained silent a few moments. "Do you think she'll believe that?"
"I see no reason why she shouldn't," Zobelle assured him. "If you are able to present it logically and calmly."
"So you expect me to enter the lion's den by calling on her at her home tonight?" Hale inquired haughtily.
"No. I expect you to read your morning paper and pay particularly close attention to a full page ad that will inform you where to find her this evening. And Jacob?"
"Yes, sir?"
"When the gym exterior is renovated, you will pay the cost. Consider it reparations for the grave error you committed in hiring the Hispanic."
"We have another problem," Hale replied, inwardly seething at the idea of having to part with his own money.
"Unser knows the identities of all of the Liberty Street investors," Zobelle finished for him. "He's suspicious about Mr. Feldstein's death. Unfortunate. However, Unser has no proof other than what he found in the records. It is nothing to worry about. Do not fail me this time, Jacob," Zobelle intoned coldly, ending the call before Hale could reply.
Hale stared at his cell phone in disbelief. 'How in the Hell does he know what's going on around here before I do?' He thought to himself. 'He's in Hungary for cryin' out loud!'
Dawn began to color the sky in pastel shades outside his window. The sound of the newspaper hitting the front porch roused him from this thoughts. He walked slowly to the door, opened it, and retrieved the rolled up newsprint. He returned to his den, poured another two fingers of the expensive bourbon into his glass, then sat in his recliner to look for the ad.
Cat stretched luxuriously as she awoke. She'd expected to be stiff and more sore from the night time exertions. Apparently the whirlpool had prevented that from happening. She reached out beside her, expecting to find Alex lying beside her, but found nothing but cool sheets and an empty pillow.
"Alex? You OK?" She sat up as she called his name, squinting around the room. Without her glasses, everything looked out of focus. The smell of fresh coffee drifted to her nose and she sniffed appreciatively. "Smells like someone's been busy!" She grinned. "Now where in the Hell did I put my cheaters?"
"I put 'em on the bed table next to ya," Alex announced through a mouthful of Snicker Bar Muffin. He crossed the room from the coffee maker, placed a cup on the table and handed her glasses to her. "Nothin' but that powdered creamer around, baby. Figured you'd prefer it straight for once," he added, sitting on the bed next to her.
Cat slid her glasses into place and smiled at him. He was only wearing his jeans and boots, leaving his bare chest for her to enjoy with her coffee. "Thanks, love. It smells familiar!"
"It should. It's your whiskey blend."
She frowned in consternation. "Don't recall havin' shipped any coffee to this joint," she observed.
"You didn't. I found your 'care package' in my duffel," he explained, holding up his nearly demolished muffin as evidence.
"Aw, Hell! Busted again!" Her face turned a delightful shade of pink over having her good deed discovered. "Forgot I packed that for y'all."
"Glad ya did. I wasn't really lookin' forward to the 'continental breakfast'. Some places only offer stale bagels and cheap ass coffee that tastes like shit!"
She took an appreciative sip of the coffee. The whiskey blend was certainly an excellent source of that needed caffeine jolt, but she missed her white chocolate creamer. "Wish I'd thought about packin' a scone," she sighed, glancing hungrily at the muffin.
"I'll share with ya, there's one more muffin left," he offered.
"Y'all have been busy, then!" She laughed, shaking hear head at his offer. "But I can't eat that thing, love. Not unless y'all want me to be sicker than a dog."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot," he replied. He stood up and returned to the table where he'd left the other muffin and a copy of the morning paper. "Actually, this place has a pretty decent spread for their free breakfast. I scouted it out and brought some food back for ya."
"I hope y'all put on more clothes!" She laughed. Then she frowned as she imagined the appreciative looks he would've received from the female guests.
"Relax, I put on my shirt and boots. Didn't see our not so friendly clerk at the desk, either."
"Shift change, most likely. At least the concierge came through! Did y'all get the paper then, too?" She inquired, sliding out of bed and slipping the hotel provided robe over her.
"Nope. Found it outside the door," he replied, frowning that she'd covered up. He'd been enjoying the unhindered view of her naked body, not to mention what the sight was doing to him.
"I'm cold, love. Otherwise I'd co - operate a little more with your fantasy," she grinned.
"Mornin's still young," he replied slyly.
"There he goes again!" she sighed, limping to the table and sitting down in the seat he'd pulled out for her. She looked at the plate Alex had brought. It was filled with strawberries, a ham and cheese omelet, and a small cup of grits. "Y'all got grits! Thank you!"
"Don't like 'em myself, but I know ya love the shit. Brought ya a couple of pats of what they claim is butter for 'em."
She stood up and climbed into his lap to give him a kiss good morning and to show proper gratitude for his foraging efforts. "Good mornin', love," she murmured a little later.
"Ya keep that up, baby, and your breakfast will be stone cold," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.
She yelped and scrambled off his lap, landing back in her chair. She noticed that the paper was the San Joaquin Chronicle. "Hmm. Would've thought they'd provide the Stockton paper."
"They do. I bought this one. Wanted to see the write up about last night's meeting."
"Dunno why. It's not gonna change anything," she huffed.
"I know. Still makes for interestin' readin'," he replied. He opened the paper to a page and placed it in her hands. "That wasn't the only interestin' readin' I found this mornin'."
Cat's fingers gripped the paper so hard that her knuckles turned white. The full page ad Ally Lowen had authorized about the wake was staring out at her. She glanced at Alex, belatedly wondering if she should have sought his input first.
Alex couldn't believe what he'd read when he first came across the ad. It took two full reads to realize what it meant. 'Damn that woman! First she pulls off this getaway and then she does this!' He had to swallow a couple of times to clear a lump from his throat, grateful that his wife was still asleep and couldn't see the effect her gesture had on him. Waves of emotion washed over him at yet another piece of intangible proof of the depth of her feelings for him.
'Is he pissed or pleased?' Cat wondered to herself. She couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "Well? What do y'all think?"
Alex gazed intently at her. "It's – it's awesome, baby. I can't begin to find the words to describe how this makes me feel."
Her eyes shone brightly across the table from him as she relaxed her death grip on the paper and folded it closed. "I think y'all just did."
"Are ya sure this isn't gonna be too much on ya on top of the funeral?" He asked concernedly. Despite all their night time maneuvers, she looked more rested and less pale than she had since before the wreck. Still, he couldn't help worrying about her taking on too much too soon.
"I spoke to Pete yesterday, he called 'the kids'. Knowin' my staff, they're gettin' things set up at the coffeehouse. I'll go in to make any adjustments, then all I have to do is be present and pleasant."
"Ya make it sound easy. Why do I have a feelin' it's gonna be everything but?" Alex inquired before sinking his teeth into his second Snicker Bar Muffin.
The discovery of the stash of treats in his duffel had been a pleasant surprise. Until the moment he opened it to retrieve his clean clothes, Alex had no idea that Cat stashed a 'care package' into it for his Belfast trip. He'd gotten that warm feeling all over at the sight of the individually wrapped Snicker Bar Muffins and single pot bricks of whiskey and Snicker blend coffee. Just knowing she'd wanted to see to his creature comforts while he was away made him happy. 'I'm just glad none of the guys rooted around and found these!'
Cat smiled at his obvious delight in the chocolate confection. "Funeral services are never easy, love. We'll get through this one. We'll just take it one step at a time."
Alex shrugged and pushed the folded paper to the side. "I just don't want ya to overdo, baby. That's my biggest worry."
"I know, love. I won't overdo. You and Kozik will be able to make the service, I hope."
"Barring anything that suddenly comes up, baby."
She nodded and sipped some more of her coffee. "I figured as much. Did the obit give the location of the funeral service?"
"Yeah. Dubrowski's," he assured her. "I have the time and place noted on this phone's calendar so I'll get an alert."
Cat took a bite of her omelet before placing a pat of butter on her still warm grits. "Don't worry, love. If somethin' does come up that prevents y'all from bein' there, I'll handle things with Lumpy's employees."
"That's why I'm worried. I don't want ya stressin' yourself out."
'A girl can get used to this kind of over protectiveness instead of the caveman type!' Cat smiled indulgently. "Don't worry, love. All I have to do at the service is sit down and listen, if it's like most funerals."
"Maybe you'd better use that fancy smart phone to double check!" He scoffed. "Ya know what happens when you assume."
"And I certainly don't wanna make an ass of you!" She laughed.
"You're livin' dangerously, woman!" He growled.
"Oh yeah? Just what do y'all intend to do about it?" She challenged.
Alex swiftly stood up, nearly knocking his chair over. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, tossing her into the center of it.
Cat shrieked and laughed uncontrollably at the fierce expression on his face. "My breakfast is gonna get cold!" She gasped.
"Tough shit! Ya shoulda thought of that before you tempted fate!" He growled, shucking off his jeans and climbing towards her from the foot of the bed. He looked much like a hungry lion sneaking up on its prey. Seconds later, he had untied the robe and thrown it open, revealing her nakedness to him. He covered her body with his, running his hands all over while his mouth suckled first one breast, then the other until she was wiggling with desire under him.
"If this is what I get for temptin' fate, remind me to do it a little more often!" Cat remarked, returning his caresses and enjoying the response it generated from him.
"I'll hold ya to that, baby," he sighed as he slipped into her welcoming wet warmth and began to slowly plunge in and out, settling into the rhythm they both liked.
Tig smiled like the cat that ate the canary as he strode into his bay from the PT. He waved at Cat's cheery farewell horn toot. He was looking forward to getting the last of the work done on the Challenger so it could go to the paint shop and felt rested and relaxed from the small getaway with his wife.
He wasn't relishing the funeral service for Lumpy, but he knew what to expect. 'Glad I had Cat look that shit up on her smart phone. Don't wanna admit it, but the damn thing's useful at times!'
He nodded a greeting at the other TM employees and glanced at Kozik. The rider looked pale and tired. "Tough news last night, bro. Sorry you and Ima had to go through it," he observed.
"Ya didn't have any choice, man," Kozik acknowledged through a yawn. "The important thing is that he wasn't alone when he died. If it's any comfort to ya, he never woke up."
'Whew! I was worried about that,' Tig sighed inwardly with relief. "Still, I'm glad ya were there with him." He shrugged out of his cut and laid it on top of his tool box, sliding his arms into a TM work shirt. He grabbed some tools and started working on the Challenger's underside.
"How'd it go at the meetin' last night?" Kozik asked.
Tig grunted as he worked to tighten a loose bolt before replying, "Bad. CPD's out in a week. Sanwa Sheriff is takin' over. Unanimous vote."
"Shit! How the fuck did that happen?"
"Hale!" Tig spat.
"That explains a lot," Piney added as he strolled up to join them. He'd read about the meeting and wanted to learn as much as he could firsthand from Tig. "That shit heel had to have pulled in every favor he was owed on that council to get that vote."
"Didn't help that Unser wasn't there to plead CPD's case," Tig replied.
"Where in Hell was he?" Piney huffed.
"No one knows for sure," Tig shrugged. "Cat's got a few ideas, none of 'em good where Hale's concerned. We won't know anything til Unser says somethin'."
"Kinda serves him right after refusin' to consider our intel," Piney snorted.
Tig glared over his shoulder at the founding member. "He got confirmation from a more reliable source."
"Who?" Piney inquired as Tig silently continued inspecting the car's underside.
"Oswald. He was at the meetin', told us that he talked to Unser, set him on the right path," Tig stated.
Piney's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected anyone else in the community would have that intel, much less a community icon like Oswald. "Well, I'll be damned!"
"It happens," Tig shrugged, nodding in satisfaction and walking out from under the car. He hit the controls to the hydraulic lift holding it in the air and watched as the Challenger slowly settled on its' tires, then slid behind the steering wheel to start the engine. The Hemi roared to life on the first try, issuing a throaty challenge to the garage workers.
"Sounds wicked!" Kozik exclaimed approvingly after Tig shut the engine off.
"It's gonna look wicked when it's painted," Tig acknowledged.
"Present for Cat, right?"
"Yeah. Speakin' of her, what's your girl doin' today?"
"Gettin' ready for Lump's funeral, I guess. She didn't say anything about workin'."
"Call and tell her to go help Cat at the coffeehouse with the wake tonight," Tig ordered.
"There's a wake at your lady's place tonight?"
"Is there an echo in here?" Tig growled. "Don't ya read the fuckin' paper?"
"No," Kozik snarled back. "I haven't read the paper yet, smart ass! Otherwise I wouldn't have asked!"
"Well there is, so ya need to call your woman and tell her to help my girl. She's still too weak to handle that shit on her own."
Kozik glared angrily in response to Tig's overbearing manner. "I'll ask my old lady if she'd be willin' to to go over and help," he replied tersely. "She's not a dog to be told what to do!"
Tig shrugged. He didn't care how the message was delivered. Just as long as Ima agreed to give Cat some badly needed help.
Piney shook his head and laughed at the pair before lumbering to the key grinder. He had to get an order of duplicate keys ready for a customer. He nodded a greeting to Chuckie through the window separating the shop from the office.
Kozik glared at Tig's back before he dug his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. 'I understand he's concerned for his woman. She's takin' on one Hell of a lot fresh outta the hospital! That doesn't give him the right to order my old lady around through me!' A grim smile crossed his features. 'Guess he knows better than to order Ima around at all, so it's better that he is goin' through me!'
"Hey, lover!" Ima greeted him warmly. The sound of her voice made the blood race warmly in his veins. "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine, baby. Just called to ask if you'd do somethin' for me. Turns out that Cat's hostin' a Jewish wake for Lumpy at the coffeehouse tonight. She's gonna need a little help, so I wondered if ya'd go over and volunteer?"
Ima looked at the receiver for a moment, then put it back to her ear. "Well, sure, if you think she would want me. I'll call her first and check, just to make sure."
"Why worry? You two seemed to hit it off last night!"
"But that was on neutral territory. Women tend to be protective about their own turf, especially when it comes to preparing for a get together like that," she explained. She didn't tell Kozik that Cat was one of the few women in the county that didn't treat her like a second class citizen. 'Maybe she doesn't know that I'm a porn actress, but I don't see how that would escape her notice. Either way, I don't want to do anything to mess that up!'
"You're prolly right, baby. Handle it the way ya see fit. Just let me know either way," Kozik replied. "See ya later." He closed the cell and glared at Tig who was smirking at him. "Satisfied?"
"I'll be more satisfied when she tells ya she's on the way."
Piney had taken a call in the office while Kozik was on the phone with Ima. He lumbered out of the clubhouse, his face whiter than Tig had ever seen it.
"You a'right, man?"
"Clubhouse. Now!" He wheezed, heading across the compound.
The two looked at each other as they shrugged out of their TM shirts and slid into their cuts.
"I've got a bad feelin' about this!" Tig growled as he raced across the compound.
'So do I!' Kozik observed, following in Tig's wake.
Cat enjoyed the drive home after dropping Alex at the clubhouse. She felt as if she hadn't driven for weeks instead of a few days. 'Just like the guy said in the movie 'Christine', 'Ain't nothin' finer than bein' behind the wheel of your own car!'
She'd also missed her cats, and felt like she'd been away from them and the house for a long time. 'The furry ones are already be in their window room showin' off for the customers,' she observed, disappointed not to get a greeting from them.
She unloaded the contents of the bags into the dirty clothes hamper, and then carried the unused coffee and muffins to the kitchen and put them away.
'I know Alex expects me to take a rest before the funeral, and I plan to. Right now, I need to touch base with 'the kids'. I'm sure they've got pressin' questions about the 'shiva' tonight.'
She limped through the back door and across the back yard to the gate, then across the small enclosure to the back entry. She stood just inside the closed back door, allowing her eyes to adjust to the change in light and listening to the sounds of her business. The lull between the morning and lunch rushes was in full swing. It was the perfect opportunity for her to talk with her staff about the wake.
She limped to her office, but Pete wasn't working there, so she limped on to the front area. She found all her staff hard at work, spiffing up the customer area for the coming evening. Two tables had been placed under the cat window, both covered with plain white paper. End tables and chairs were rearranged to allow for groups of people to sit and talk comfortably.
Cat's eyes were drawn to a framed portrait set on an easel beside the ATM machine. That was a recent addition to the business and from the reports she'd received from Pete and Miss Anna, it was already popular with the customers. Before she'd returned to St. Thomas, Cat had convinced all the banks Charming to allow ATM withdrawals of $20 per customer per day at her business. In return, she would pay them a set fee each week, no matter how many ATM transactions were conducted.
"It's a win - win for both of us," she'd explained to the banks' representatives. "All y'all get good will from your own customers, and y'all will get a set sum every month. If it works well for my little business, y'all might consider offerin' the same deal to other businesses in the community!"
To her surprise, the bank execs had agreed to a six month trial run. She suspected that sympathy for her injuries right after the Peace Rally had a hand in the matter. She wasn't about to question the good luck. For now, the ATM was sharing space with a wooden easel that held an 11 x 14 sketch of Lumpy. There was both a pensive yet intrigued look on his face, as if he were both people and cat watching.
"This is wonderful, Adrian!" She called to the budding artist.
"Thanks, Miss Cat," he replied, a blush crossing his features. "I thought we'd move it in front of the ATM later tonight. It'd be the first thing the guests see when they come in."
"I appreciate that. It's a very good likeness," she assured him. "All y'all have done a great job gettin' things ready for tonight!"
"Glad you like it, Miss Cat," Pete replied. "We weren't sure how much decorating to do, so we chose to take the subdued route."
"It was a good call, darlin'," she observed approvingly. "We don't want to look like 'Studio 54', but we don't want it to look depressin', either. This is just purrfect!"
"What's 'Studio 54'?" CJ snickered.
Cat rolled her eyes. "Look it up on line. It'll be a good education for y'all. Now, while we've got a little time before the lunch rush, who's gonna be workin' the event tonight?"
Adrian and CJ raised their hands. "Good. Your main jobs will be serving drinks. If anyone asks for a specialty drink, let the person know we're only serving coffee, juice drinks, and cold/hot tea. Keep an eye on the food tables and be ready to replenish plates, napkins, etc., when they run low."
"Are we providing food, too?" CJ inquired.
"The non 'Kosher' snacks, yes. I'm afraid I don't have any 'Kosher' baked goods," Cat explained.
"What's the difference?" Adrian asked.
"Does it matter?" CJ huffed.
"It does if you're Jewish," Cat smiled. "'Kosher' has to do with the dietary rules for consumption and preparation of foods for Jewish people. Certain animals and other food sources are considered 'unclean' and a sin to eat, such as pork. The preparation of 'Kosher' food is very important, including cooking and serving it separately from 'regular' food."
"So what's not 'Kosher' about our treats?" Miss Anna asked. "We always pass the health department inspections!"
"It has nothin' to do with cleanliness, darlin'," Cat explained. "Jews won't mix milk and milk based products with any meal, even if it's just a snack."
"Oh," Miss Anna replied in a small voice.
"It's OK, hon," Cat reassured her. "If Daddy hadn't insisted on educatin' me about other faiths, I wouldn't have known, either."
"Oye!" Adrian sighed. "It sounds like a lot of work!"
"Fortunately, my dears, as any neighbors tend to do in a time of loss, our Jewish friends will bring 'Kosher' foods to share. They'll appreciate that we provided separate servin' tables and service."
"That reminds me, Miss Cat, don't you have some 'Kosher' cook and silver ware?" Pete interjected.
"Yes, I do, and one of you big strapplin' lads are entitled to bring 'em over. They're already clean and ready for use out of the storage box. It's sittin' on the kitchen counter."
"I'll get it!" Pete volunteered, heading towards the back entrance as he spoke.
The feline trio had recognized her voice and leaped onto the shelves at the window to watch her. Misty stood on her hind legs and pawed frantically at the window for attention. Ebony and Ming bumped their heads against the window in an equal bid for attention. "It looks like the furbabies want some of my time," Cat laughed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think they missed me!"
"Oh, they missed you all right," CJ retorted. "That's the most active I've seen Misty the last couple of days. She's been missing you and Mr. Chibs hasn't been in the last couple of mornings."
"I think he's away on club business with a few of the others," Cat explained. "Mr. Tig and Piney stayed behind to keep an eye on things."
"Is that the older guy that wears the denim vest?" Adrian asked.
"Yes, darlin'. He's one of the founders, that why he has a patch that reads 'First 9'."
"He's been around awhile, hasn't he?" CJ rolled his eyes and nudged Adrian in the ribs.
"Hey! Behave yourself, CJ!" Cat admonished. "It's a valid observation!" She turned reassuringly to Adrian and added, "Yes, darlin', Piney's been around for a long time, so he deserves a lot of respect. That doesn't mean he doesn't have to pay for his purchases the same as everyone else!"
"Whew!" Adrian sighed with relief. "He gave me the hairy eyeball yesterday when I asked for payment!"
"As long as he paid, that's the main thing," Cat grinned. "Piney's like a giant teddy bear, cuddly lookin', but he has a bit of an edge."
"I'll say!" Adrian smiled. Cat was still laughing as she stepped into the cat room. Ebony was so happy to see her that he didn't try to escape through the door, though she didn't give him much of a chance. She petted and stroked her trio, reminding them that she had missed them as much as they missed her. She gave them some treats and a liberal brushing before sprinkling catnip on their toys and perches. When she left the cat room, they were busy getting thoroughly soused.
"I'll in the office for a bit, then back at the house if all y'all need me," Cat advised Miss Anna and Adrian. CJ had already left as he was scheduled to work later in the afternoon. "By the way, I'll have the cell turned off durin' the service."
"You be sure to rest awhile, Miss Cat," Adrian admonished as she limped to the back. "You don't want to get Mr. Tig upset!"
"Absolutely!" She called behind her. She'd just settled into her office chair after adjusting the light for her comfort when her cell rang. She frowned at the caller ID, which only read 'CA' call; the number wasn't Alex's burner.
"This is Cat," she announced in a business – like manner.
"Hi, Cat! It's Ima, Kozik's girl."
"Hey!" Cat's voice reflected her obvious pleasure at the woman's call. "Thanks for sittin' with Lumpy last night. Must've been a little strange sittin' with someone y'all didn't know well!"
"Not really," Ima replied. "He means – meant – so much to Kozik. And he means so much to me that it felt right."
"I know the feelin'. I'm sure Herman appreciated your bein' there for him."
"Herman? That's his first name?" Ima nearly shrieked in Cat's ear.
"Ye – ah, did I let the cat out of the bag, so to speak?"
"He's been evasive about his first name, just said to call him Kozik or 'Koz'. Guess I can understand why he's not been very forthcoming," Ima giggled.
"Well, don't let on that y'all know," Cat laughed. "It'll deflate the poor little fella's ego!"
"The secret's safe with me," Ima vowed. "Not to change the subject, but I saw that you're hosting the 'shiva' tonight. Do you need help setting up for it?"
"I appreciate the offer, hon, but my staff just finished that," she waved at Pete as he passed the office door with the storage box of 'Kosher' ware. "But I could use a little help tonight with hostess duties, if y'all don't mind."
"Me? Help host?" Ima squeaked. 'Good Lord, she obviously doesn't know what I do for a living! Otherwise she'd never ask!'
"Yes, you!" Cat retorted. "I know that you work in the erotic entertainment industry, but that doesn't mean y'all can be a different kind of hostess tonight!"
"I – I don't know what to say," Ima stammered.
"Just say 'yes', and maybe do me a favor?"
"What's that?" Ima inquired.
"Would y'all wear somethin' a little more conservative than y'all wore to Deputy Chief Hale's memorial service?"
Ima felt her face grow warm with embarrassment. She remembered the outfit in question. She'd worn it with the distinct intent of enticing Jax because Tara was out of town at the time. "I'm sure I can," she replied softly.
"Mind you, I'm not criticizin' y'all. Just between you and me, if Lumpy was anything like our boys, he'd probably get a kick outta your outfit; the mundanes, however, aren't as open minded."
Ima laughed in relief, "I think you're right. Should I get there a little early?"
"Why don't y'all come out to the house before the funeral, and we'll ride in together. Just in case the men get caught on club business and can't ride in with us."
"I'd appreciate that, Cat," Ima replied. "Your old man would probably feel better if someone rode with you if he couldn't."
"You got that right! I'll see y'all in a bit, then," Cat stated, pressing the end call button. She set the cell phone on the desk charger and logged into the computer to check on any new orders that might've come in.
The sun was already out when Hector and Luisa awoke. Unlike their 'guests' in the attic, they had slept comfortably on the mattress in the main bedroom. After they left their captives for the night, they'd eaten heartily of the food Luisa had picked up for them before they'd performed the kidnapping. After eating, they engaged in wild, hot, passionate sex that sent them into a deep, undisturbed slumber.
Hector stretched and ran his hand over his woman's bare back to wake up. Luisa's eyes fluttered open and she looked at him, smiling in recognition. "Good morning, baby!"
"It's a very good morning, Chula," he replied with a smile. "Today we get our revenge!"
"This is going to be fun!" Luisa laughed, pulling her discarded clothes together and getting dressed.
"It will also be a profitable day, Chula!" Hector replied, slipping into his pants and sleeveless undershirt. "Grab a bottle of water, our 'guests' might be a little thirsty," he ordered.
Luisa took a full but warm bottle of water with her, along with her gun, just in case the doctor was still feisty.
They climbed the narrow stairs to the attic where their captives were still tied to the pole. Hector placed a battery operated light near the entrance to allow Luisa and him to navigate the attic without stumbling and falling.
The red haired woman looked scared when Luisa ripped the duct tape away and poured some water in her open mouth. She repeated the action with Tara, who glared venomously at the couple.
Hector informed the women that their identities had checked out, and now he needed Tara to provide a contact telephone number for the club.
Tara didn't want to co operate with the couple. Her defiance earned her a vicious slap from Luisa.
Margaret made it clear to Tara that the male wanted the telephone number to make his demands, which impressed Salazar.
Tara reluctantly gave him what he wanted, then Luisa gleefully replaced the tape over their mouths while Hector made his phone call. It seemed to Tara that it took forever for one of the patched members to come to the phone. 'Chuckie must've answered, he's been working in the office since Gemma went on the lam.'
Hector turned to her as he spoke and shoved the phone to her face as Luisa ripped the tape from her mouth again. She grimaced from the sting caused by the rapid removal of the tape. She identified herself to the person on the other end of the line.
"It's Piney honey," the grizzled founding member replied. "Are you a'right?"
"She's fine!" Hector snapped. He'd pulled the phone away from her the minute Tara had given her name. "She and her friend will remain all right as long as you do what I told you to do! Do you have the number I'm calling from?"
"No, this phone doesn't have caller ID," Piney reached for a piece of scrap paper and a pen. "What's the number?"
Hector gave him the burner number. "Call me as soon as the deed is done," he snarled, snapping the phone shut and ending the call. "Now we'll see how much your old man's precious club values you!"
Piney was upset over Lumpy's death. It had seemed like the boxer was as tough as him. Now Lumpy was gone, and Piney had one less friend in the world. 'It seems like I'm losin' more friends than I gain,' he mused. 'And the club just keeps becoming less and less of a brotherhood than when I joined. Why do things have to change so radically?'
He was relieved that Cat was hosting the wake at her coffeehouse. He had wondered where any such gathering would take place. He knew the gym wasn't useable, and he was uncomfortable about going into the synagogue for such a thing.
'I wouldn't know most of those people anyway, even if they were clients of Teller – Morrow!' He'd be with people he knew to honor Lumpy. 'I'll have to be sure to let her know I appreciate this!'
Piney didn't know what to expect when Chuckie asked him to take a call in the office. All he knew was that the caller wanted to speak to a patched member. The voice on the other end of the line was definitely Hispanic, which didn't impress Piney very much. What he had to say chilled the founding member to the bone: He had taken Tara and was holding her hostage. He claimed he would kill her and Tara's supervisor if SAMCRO didn't meet his demands. He shared this with Tig and Kozik in the chapel, along with Salazar's demands for Tara and her supervisor's safe return.
Tig felt like someone had punched him in the gut with a 100 pound hammer. A glance at Kozik showed he felt much the same way. They were between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If they killed Alvarez at Salazar's demand, a bloody gang war would result. If they didn't do the deed, two innocent women would die.
'The fucktard had to pick today to pull this!' Piney thought angrily. 'As if he's rubbin' our noses in his involvement in Lumpy's death!' If it were up to him, Piney would be more than happy to pump a full magazine of bullets into Alvarez to save Tara and the other woman's life.
Tig and Kozik were less willing to take that route and were wracking their brains to come up with a solution. As he watched the two former friends work out a solution to their current problem, Piney sensed that some of the tension between the two had lessened with Lumpy's passing. 'I guess sittin' with a dyin' old friend is bound to put things in perspective.'
Besides their shared pain over the death of their friend and mentor, both Tig and Kozik now had a steady woman in their lives. It made them more empathetic of the impact Tara's kidnapping would have on Jax were he to learn of it. Neither Tig nor Kozik knew what they'd do if it happened to them.
The three patched men knew that the only reason Jax had pulled the 'dick move' on Tara was because he wanted her out of the life before it affected her life's work as a doctor. Deep down, they knew their VP loved Tara almost more than he loved the club. Piney himself had seen the 'dick move' coming for some time. The only surprise was that it had taken Jax so long to figure it out.
Kozik stood between the two SAMCRO members. Piney and Tig were both seated at their usual spots at the table. Kozik's plan was to present the situation to Alvarez, ask him to turn over the $250,000 from his safe to them, and to put the word out in the Hispanic community that he'd been killed. Once the news got to Salazar, Tara and her supervisor would be released, and Alvarez could retrieve his money from Salazar, claiming to the community he'd put the bad intel out about himself to save Tara.
It was a very long shot. There were so many things that could go wrong that Piney couldn't even begin to list them. Tig didn't look like he liked the idea either, but it was the only suggestion on the table. Neither he nor Piney could come up with anything better. The one slim hope they shared was that Alvarez, being a family man, would be sympathetic to the situation. The fact that two innocent women had been taken, and one of them was a civilian, might tip the scales more in SAMCRO's favor.
"There's always the chance Alvarez will decide to take Salazar out once and for all," Kozik added.
"Are we leavin' the prospects behind?" Piney inquired as they strode out of the chapel.
"We'll take them along, but they'll stay in the van," Tig determined. "If they appear in his backyard with us, Alvarez might think we're gunnin' for him, shoot first, and ask questions later." He motioned for the prospects to follow them. They immediately dropped what they were doing to scamper after him.
"We might as well all go in the van. It'll make Alvarez suspicious if he hears a Harley approach," Kozik observed.
"How in the Hell are we gonna find him?" Tig inquired as they walked out of the clubhouse to the van. "It's not like we can walk into the Mayans clubhouse and ask for a sit down!"
"Salazar gave me Alvarez' address," Piney explained, holding up another piece of paper. "Shouldn't be too hard to find."
"What if he's not at his house?" Tig mused.
"Then we'll drive by the clubhouse, see if his bike's there," Kozik stated. "If it is, we can call him and ask for a meet."
"And if not, smart guy?" Piney growled as he climbed into the driver's seat. Tig took the shotgun seat, leaving Kozik to sit on the floor behind them with the prospects.
"Then we check out his record store," Kozik stated.
"OK. But then what? We stake out his house until he comes home?" Tig asked gruffly.
"I guess so. Can ya think of any better answer, Tiggy?" Kozik snarled.
"No," Tig growled back. "You'd better call your woman, Kozik. We might not make Lumpy's funeral."
"You and me both, brother," Kozik retorted, digging his cell out of his jeans pocket and moving to the back of the van where he could talk in relative privacy. "Make a path, prospects!"
The prospects wisely moved to allow Kozik free passage to the rear of the van and kept their opinions to themselves. They were content to sit behind Piney and Tig and not draw attention to themselves. They were in enough trouble for Sebastian's fuck up, and didn't want to say or do anything that would bring the wrath of Tig on them.
Tig pulled the two – way from his inner cut pocket and pressed 'send', turning to look out the passenger window at the passing scenery.
"Hey!" Cat answered on the first ring. He could hear music in the background but couldn't recognize it.
"Hey back, baby! What are ya listenin' to?"
"Eddie and the Cruisers It's a Matter of Time," she replied. "Been feelin' a little melancholy. But y'all aren't callin' to ask about my musical interest of the moment. What's up?"
"Dammit! Ya know me too well, woman," he growled. "Can't I just call to see how you're feelin'?"
"Y'all can, but generally don't. That's why I know somethin's up, love. So sock it to me."
Alex briefed her on the kidnapping and their intent to convince Alvarez to help them. "We might not make the service," he added.
"I was afraid of that," she sighed. "But y'all gotta do whatever it takes to get them back."
"I don't like not bein' able to be there for Lump, or to watch out for ya," he protested. He could hear the rattle and clicking of computer keys. "Are ya at home?"
"No love. I'm in the coffeehouse office. The kids got things set up for tonight and Ima's gonna help me host the 'shiva' and we're going to ride together to the funeral. She called earlier."
Alex turned in his seat to glance back at Kozik, who was deep in conversation with Ima. He placed his hand over the phone's mouthpiece and called out, "Your girl made contact with mine. She's helpin' with the hostess duties tonight and ridin' with Cat to the funeral."
Kozik gave him a thumbs up. "I know. Just got the same intel from my girl."
Tig nodded and removed his hand from the mouthpiece. "I'm glad she reached out, baby. It makes me less worried that Ima's gonna be watchin' out for ya."
Cat started to prickle at his comment, but she drew a deep breath instead. She realized that one weight had been lifted from his shoulders so he could better concentrate on the task at hand. Instead she joked, "Knew y'all would be, that's why I asked her."
"Thanks, baby," he replied.
"Anytime, love."
"Now do me a favor and get your ass home and get some rest before the service."
"I'm gettin' ready to head that way now," she replied.
"Not good enough. I want ya to turn off that computer and the music machine and get your ass home!" He growled.
"Sheesh! Y'all are turnin' into a mother hen!" She complained good naturedly.
"Whatever! Get movin'!"
"OK! OK! I'm goin'!" She laughed. "See ya when I see ya, love."
"Likewise," he closed the two way and relaxed in the seat. "Damn stubborn woman!"
Piney merely grinned and kept his eyes on the road.
"Catch ya later, baby," Kozik murmured before shutting off his own cell phone. He shoved it into his pocket and moved past the prospects to resume his original seat. "All set. Ima was pleased to be asked to help with the wake tonight. Said it sounded like Cat really wanted her help."
"She's not just stringin' your girl along, Koz," Piney replied, much to Tig's surprise. "Cat's not one of those types that smiles in your face and sticks the knife in your back when you're not lookin'."
After completing the call with his demands to the Sons, Hector decided to show his 'guests' some mercy. "Allow them to get up, stretch their muscles, and use the restroom," he informed Luisa. "Take them one a time and keep an eye on them so they don't try anything!"
Luisa reluctantly agreed, and removed the rope binding Margaret's arm to the pole. "No tricks, bitch!" Luisa sneered at the administrator, brandishing the gun as a reminder that she would be more than happy to kill Margaret for the slightest infraction of the rules.
Margaret stood gingerly, wincing as circulation started to flow in her lower extremities.
Luisa didn't like the delay and shoved Margaret in the back. "Move, bitch! I don't have all day to escort you to the bathroom!"
'OK! OK!" Margaret replied tearfully. "I was just trying to get the circulation back in my feet so I wouldn't fall!"
"Tell it to someone who cares, bitch!" Luis snarled, continuing to push Margaret out of the attic.
Margaret picked up her pace slightly, praying she wouldn't fall down the stairs.
Luisa took her to a lavatory where she could have a few moments privacy. "Don't try to crawl out the window, bitch!" Luisa advised her with a taunting laugh. "You won't fit for one. If you even try, it won't be good for your friend!"
Margaret peeked inside the bathroom long enough to see that there was no toilet paper on the roll. "Is there any tissue?" She asked softly.
"Where the Hell do you think you are, the Hilton?" Luisa laughed nastily. "We don't have any stinkin' TP. You can drip dry or use your hand to clean up if you shit!"
Margaret shuddered at the idea, but knew she had no choice. She desperately needed to pee. She was allowed to close the door after Luisa warned her she'd be right outside, waiting and listening. Margaret tried the faucet, and found to her relief that the water was still working. 'I can wash my hands and get a drink!'
Margaret did what she needed to do, then opened the faucet a bit to get clean water to cleanse herself as best she could. Once she pulled her underwear and pants back up, she leaned over the faucet, washed her hands and then drank from her cupped hands.
A brisk pounding rattled the door on its' hinges. "Your time's running out, bitch!"
"I'm coming!" Margaret cried, wiping her mouth on her sleeve and turning off the faucet. She flushed the toilet and opened the door. "Thank you!" She exclaimed to the scowling woman waiting for her.
"Shut up and get back to the attic!" Luisa snarled, waving the gun in Margaret's face.
As the administrator trod wearily back to the stairwell, she asked over her shoulder, "Is there anything Tara and I could have to eat?"
"This isn't Burger King, bitch! You don't get things your way! Now get moving!" Luisa pushed Margaret into the attic stairs.
Margaret yelped in pain as her knees hit the risers.
Tara turned to glare at Hector, who was guarding her in Luisa's absence. "Does your woman have to be so rough with her? Margaret didn't do anything to you!"
"She didn't move fast enough," Hector replied ominously.
Luisa shoved Margaret again as they entered the attic, sending the administrator stumbling to the pole. Margaret caught herself from falling into the pole by putting her hands out in front of her. She gasped again when her hands met the wood.
"Sit down, bitch!" Luisa ordered tersely.
"Easy, Chula!" Hector admonished. "We don't want to bruise the merchandise yet!"
Luisa viciously tied Margaret's hands behind her and secured them to the post before unbinding Tara's hands.
Tara stood up just as gingerly as Margaret had. The pins and needles feeling of returning circulation made her drawn in breath between her teeth.
"Let's go, bitch!" Luisa snarled, pointing to the steps and attic door. Tara didn't speak to the other woman, she was too furious to do so and wasn't going to give Luisa the courtesy. She walked ahead of the woman with her head held high.
Luisa issued the same terse instructions to Tara about use of the lavatory. Tara nodded and closed the door after her.
Like Margaret, she did what she had to do and cleaned up as best she could before drinking tap water to slake her thirst. She flushed and opened the door before Luisa had a chance to pound on it. Without waiting for orders, Tara strode back to the attic steps and returned to her side of the post, sat down, and waited for her bonds to be tied.
Luisa took great delight in tying the ropes as tight as possible around Tara's hands and the post. "It'll keep 'em where they are, baby," she explained to Hector when he glanced inquiringly at her. "The ropes were a little loose, baby. We don't want 'em to try to get away!"
Hector nodded and gestured for Luisa to join him. "You two had better hope and pray SAMCRO comes through for you," he stated flatly before they walked out of the attic and shut the door behind them, leaving the women alone in the dark.
Morning in Belfast could be as bright and sunny as morning in Charming. Either way, after the discoveries he'd slammed into the night before, it was much too cherry for Jax's taste.
Ashby Alley, the cul de sac where the SAMBEL clubhouse and SAMCRO's guest quarters were located was quiet. Most of SAMBEL was still passed out after their new Prez and Sergeant at Arms were patched and they had drowned their shock and sorrow over the deaths of McGee and Liam O'Neal, the SAA.
As for the SAMCRO group, most of them were just beginning their day, and Jax wasn't ready to talk to any of them at the moment, including his mom. Not while his head was still whirling over the shock of learning he'd nearly gone into Tig territory with his half sister.
As if that hadn't been enough of an unpleasant surprise, he finally had an inkling into his son's location. Father Kellen Ashby had taken Abel from his sister, Maureen Ashby's care, and taken the baby to an orphanage where he would be adopted by a "good Catholic family" far from the MC world.
The priest had explained that John Teller, Jax's father, had wanted his sons out of the patched life. A wish stated long before JT's daughter, Trinity, was born. Kellen Ashby wasn't able to 'save' his friend's son from the club, but he believed his friend wouldn't want the patch for his grandson.
'That didn't give him the right to make that call about my kid!' Jax thought angrily. Finding out the truth about JT's life in Ireland, and that he had created a second family in Belfast while Thomas was dying hurt Jax deeply. He now accepted that he'd blindly idolized his father, with disasterous results.
'I took his writing to heart so many months ago; it was his words that led me to question Clay's leadership of the club. I thought my father was special! He betrayed me, my brother, and my mother! He hid here with his other family and left Mom alone with my dying brother!'
His anger didn't extend to his half - sister, Trinity. Not just because they'd nearly screwed each other in the back room of Maureen's store. He'd felt an attraction to the red - haired girl from the moment they met. Now that he knew the truth, he could see some of his father and himself in Trinity, especially in temperament.
The quiet of the alley was broken by the sound of delivery crates being unloaded from a truck. Trinity was hauling the crates into the back of the store on her own. Maureen was probably still passed out in the upstairs apartment.
Jax fully intended to help his half - sister, but he had to reach out to Agent Stahl first. He'd been trying to get her since he and Clay had met with the Irish Kings, and learned that Jimmy O'Phelan had placed a kill order on SAMCRO, resulting in the bombing at Dunleith that killed several of the SAMBEL members, including Padraich, Chibs' nephew.
He breathed a terse message into the voice mail and snapped the burner closed. He'd lost track of the number of voice mails he'd left for Stahl. 'How hard can it be to return a fuckin' call?'
The delivery truck had left and Trinity had disappeared. Jax ambled across the alley to the delivery entrance, which was still unlocked. He found Trinity stacking milk cartons in the cooler. She greeted him shyly. Her face was flushed and she didn't meet his gaze. He could tell she was still embarrassed over being caught in the store room with him the night before by their mothers.
He assured her there was nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about. They hadn't gone all the way, and if they had, they didn't know the truth at the time. That lay at their parents' feet. After all the years of being an only child, they now had a sibling to rely on, which in Jax's opinion, was pretty darn good.
His burner chose the very moment he engaged his half - sister in an embrace to start ringing. He sighed, dug the phone out of his jeans pocket, and glanced at the caller ID. It was Stahl calling him back. He excused himself by mumbling that he had to take the call and walked back to the delivery entrance. He didn't see Trinity's wistful parting gaze as the door closed behind him.
His tone of voice was brisk with Stahl. He was not pleased over the long silence and let her know that Jimmy O was a wanted man by the RIRA and why.
'Shit!' Stahl thought in a panic. 'If the RIRA kills him, I'm sunk!' She was in the guest bedroom, and hurriedly closed the door while she spoke with Jax. She paced from the closed door to the closet and back again, reminding Jax how important Jimmy O was to their deal. Jax felt like wringing the agent's neck.
He couldn't care less about Jimmy's safety at the moment. His highest priority was getting his son back.
Stahl understood that, but she reminded Jax tersely that if he expected to get reduced time for the club and the charge of murdering Cameron Hayes dropped against Gemma, he'd better keep Jimmy a priority as well.
Clay stepped out of the guest quarters and called out to him to come inside. Jax waved acknowledgment while growling to Stahl that was handling things and hung up.
Stahl sighed in exasperation. "I never should have made this deal! But I'm stuck with it now. I'd rather bring Jimmy in to face charges, but if the RIRA gets him, that kills the deal with Teller! I could live with that. Killing the deal would mean Tyler doesn't take the rap for the Galt shoot! This could work out after all!"
Stahl took a deep breath and relaxed. If she could've seen through the door, she wouldn't have felt so pleased. Anne Tyler had been standing at the door and listened to the entire conversation. She wished she'd had a tape recorder with her, though she doubted the quality would've been very good. There was no doubt about what she'd heard, and it made her sick to her stomach.
She hurried quietly down the hall to the bathroom, kneeling before the toilet. Though she gagged and retched a few times, nothing came up. She sat on the floor with her back against the wall, shaking like a leaf clinging to a tree limb in a windstorm.
'I really thought I was being paranoid, and that maybe June was getting ready to dump me for another woman!' Tyler sighed and ran her hands down her face. 'She's dumping me all right! Dumping that bad shoot on my shoulders! I've got to clear myself!'
"I don't get it. Why does this Salazar fucktard have a wild hair up his ass about us and Alvarez? Why would he go after Tara?" Piney inquired.
"Guess he blames Jax the most for losin' his Prez patch and his club," Tig shrugged, relating the meeting at the park after the Grim Bastard's SAA had been killed by Salazar.
"He picked a great time to pull this stunt," Piney grunted.
"I suspect he overheard Jax tell Alvarez about the Belfast endeavor at that barrio rally," Tig admitted sourly. "Jax put a beat down on him and stuffed his cut in the toilet before Alvarez kicked him outta the Calavarez. That's prolly why he nabbed Tara."
"Jax should've killed the son of a bitch," Piney growled. "Or Alvarez should've allowed TO to take him out."
"Wasn't Jax's decision. You know all things Hispanic go through Alvarez, that's part of the deal. Alvarez apparently thought Salazar was a dead man walking without his club to back him up. Who knew the son of a bitch would pull this?"
Piney snorted in derision. "And it really sucks that Lumpy died at the hands of that fucktard!"
"Salazar's gonna have a lot to answer for," Tig agreed. "He's not the only one, but there's nothin' we can do about the one that got away."
Miles and Phil shifted uncomfortably behind Kozik. They'd been waiting for the inevitable punishment to be metered out for Sebastian's desertion ever since it was discovered the day before.
Tig turned to glare at the prospects and smiled grimly. "Relax, boys. Sebastian's desertion is on us patched members." He turned back to face the front and added, "I still think we need to come up with a better way to determine which hangarounds to prospect. Sebastian really pulled the wool over Opie's eyes."
"I heard about him givin' Chuckie a hard time about cleanin' the clubhouse," Piney replied.
"That wasn't the only problem," Tig related Sebastian's attempt to gain free product and to cut in front of a customer who was already being served at 'Charming Pawse'. "Chibs was there and set the kid straight pretty quick. Sent him home to think about what it really meant to be a part of the club and whether he really had what it takes."
"Have to admit I kinda forgot that we pay our way there," Piney admitted. His face was red with embarrassment. "Her employees didn't bat an eyelash at makin' me pay for the purchases this mornin'."
"We should pay. Otherwise, Cat would take it outta our percentage!" Tig grinned. "But if you'd made an issue of it, they would've let it pass. Then either Cat or I would've made it up."
"Shit! Wish I'd known that this mornin'!" Piney exclaimed.
Tig pulled out his wallet and passed a $10 bill to his brother. "Cat wanted me to be sure you got your money back for our breakfast." He glanced back at the prospects. "Don't broadcast that intel, boys. Cat would prefer not to have to bother with runnin' a tab for us. I don't want her havin' to dick with it, either."
"No problem, Tig!" Miles and Phil chorused as Piney pocketed the bill and waved his hand in the air. "I understand, brother. Secret stays with me. Like ya said, it comes outta our percentage!"
"There's Alvarez' house!" Kozik cried, pointing at a one story yellow sided home.
Piney pulled onto the side street leading to the back gate of Alvarez' premises. He shut off the engine and glanced at the prospects. "You two stay in the van," he ordered.
"Is it OK if we sit up front? My ass is killin' me from sittin' on the floor!" Miles pleaded.
Tig shook his head and slid out of the van, followed by Kozik. Piney climbed out from behind the driver's seat and walked away from the van. None of the patched men dignified the prospect's question with an answer.
"I've heard silence means assent," Miles exclaimed, climbing into the passenger seat. Phil sighed and slid out of the van's side door, walked around it to stretch his legs, and slid into the driver's seat. "I've got a bad feelin' about this!" He moaned.
Margaret had fallen asleep, leaving Tara to ponder over their situation as well as what the administrator had shared with her about the large tattoo on her back.
'Hard to believe that Margaret lived such a wild lifestyle in her youth, complete with drug use!' Tara mused to herself. 'She seems so straight laced these days!'
The fact that Margaret had once used hard narcotics such as cocaine also surprised her, again because that didn't fit with the administrator she knew. 'I suppose that must be why she fought me so hard about the club, and Gemma's influence on me. It reminded her of a time she'd rather forget.'
Tara had no idea what time it was, or how much time had passed since Hector had given Piney his demands. She knew the clock was ticking, and time was running out on them. She'd been working at their bindings again since Hector and his hard ass girlfriend had left them alone. She'd managed to loosen them enough to eliminate the chafing on their wrists, but not enough to get free.
When she wasn't working on their bindings, she looked all over the attic for anything that might be useable as a weapon if and when she managed to get loose.
The attic had been left lit by the single naked overhead light bulb, and there wasn't much that looked useable. Some newspapers bundled in strings, lots of boxes, a dressmakers form, but nothing that would do any real damage.
'That dressmaker form might work to knock them over, providing they were standing near each other and providing I could get to it without my legs giving out on me!' Tara huffed a small ironic laugh. 'That's a lot of provisions!'
Even if she were to manage to overpower Hector and his woman, she'd still have to get Margaret free and get them both downstairs. In their current condition, the chances of them getting as far as the front door were slim and none, and getting worse with every minute.
One of the factors that would not be in her favor would be the lack of circulation in her legs, though she tried to keep her legs as active as she could with her feet bound together. 'I've got to do something!' She reminded herself tersely. 'Doing nothing will be letting them win! I've just to stay alert and watch for an opportunity! I've got to!'
Before she left to go back to the house, Cat touched base with Pete to insure that everything was ready for the 'shiva.'
"I think we're as ready as we can be, Miss Cat," Pete assured her. "I'll take care of the regular duties during the next lull."
"I knew that, but appreciate y'all tellin' me. Thanks for fillin' everyone in for me yesterday and gettin' things prepped today. Y'all have been a big asset, Pete."
Her assistant manager blushed over the well deserved praise. "Glad to do it, Miss Cat. The kitties were glad to see you. Misty has really perked up."
"So I see," Cat laughed, watching her youngest pounce on a cat nip toy and bat it across the cat room. "I'm headin' back to the house. Mr. Tig has ordered me to get some rest before the service."
"I was hopin' you would," he replied.
"Well, all y'all are gettin' your wish," she retorted. "I swear you men have the same thing on your mind all the time, gettin' me to go to bed!"
"Just looking out for you, boss, though I've got more innocent reasons for wanting you to go to bed for awhile," he grinned.
"And on that note, I'm outta here!" Cat retorted wryly, limping from the front area and on to the back door. She was still smiling as she limped across the recently mowed back yard and on into the house.
Tina Lou, who made all the 'Charming Pawse' feline plushes and other items for the website, was finishing up the daily cleaning and vacuuming of the house. "Cat! I wasn't aware that you were out of the hospital!"
Tina exclaimed, rushing to give her friend a hug.
"I'm still a little tender in places, but otherwise OK," she replied, returning the hug. "Hang on a minute and I'll get your pay ready."
"There's no hurry, Cat." Tina assured her.
"Nice of y'all to say so, but I'm of a different mindset, darlin'. Hope you and your son don't mind takin' a check this time, I didn't use my ATM and don't have much cash on me."
"Then why don't you wait and pay me tonight before the 'shiva'?" Tina suggested.
"You're goin'?"
"Sure am. My eldest was taking boxing training from Lumpy. If it weren't for that, he'd probably be in juvenile hall." Tina explained.
Cat sat down at the kitchen table, inviting her friend to join her. "Was he getting into a lot of trouble?"
"Nothing felonious, but a lot of criminal mischief. Spraying graffiti, shoplifting here and there, mostly penny ante stuff. I think he was trying to get SAMCRO's attention."
"How do you feel about him wanting to go into the club like his father?" Cat inquired.
"He's almost 18, Cat. There's not much I can do about it. He idolized his father, and wants to follow in his footsteps. At least with Lumpy's help, I was able to funnel all that restless energy into something positive."
"Knowin' Lumpy, he probably worked on your boy's moral makeup as well. I doubt SAMCRO will consider him for a hang around, much less a prospect, for awhile yet."
"I'm hopeful on both counts. He's been more settled since he started working with Lumpy. Having this weekly income from you for the yard work gives him a sense of accomplishment as well. He seems to like getting paid for doing something constructive."
"That's been the intention all awhile," Cat replied.
"Bullshit!" Tina huffed good naturedly. "I know why you do it, and appreciate it. Between the internet sales and this job, I've been able to keep the insurance money invested so we have a nest egg to fall back on."
"It's what one does for family," Cat shrugged. "Y'all are part of my family, regardless of whether your husband was part of SAMCRO or not." She yawned behind her hand and smiled ruefully. "Sorry, darlin', I'm a little easy to tire, and need to get a little rest before the service."
"Do you need a ride?"
"No, but thanks for askin'. Kozik's new girl is ridin' with me, and she's helpin' with the hostess duties tonight."
Tina stood up from the table as Cat rose carefully from her seat. "Don't worry about showin' me out. I'll lock up behind me. Get yourself to bed and get some rest. See you later."
"Thanks, darlin'," Cat replied, limping off to the bedroom while Tina let herself out. She heard the reassuring sound of the lock engaging as she removed her boots and stretched out on the bed. She set her phone's alarm for an hour before the service so she'd have time to wash and dress for it. She was asleep the minute her head hit the pillow.
Tig, Piney, and Kozik were taciturn when they returned to the van, though they walked away from the confrontation with Alvarez unharmed. Miles gave up his seat for Piney while Phil drove them back to the clubhouse. Tig and Kozik sat in the back with Miles. The prospects didn't ask about the meeting with the Mayans leader, and the patched members didn't volunteer anything.
Tig felt the burden of leadership settle on his shoulders like an iron weight. It was up to him to resolve this problem and get Tara back because he was the only officer left in town. Piney was one of the first nine, but he held no office in the club. 'Lucky bastard! Where in the Hell am I goin' to come with a quarter of a million bucks?' He mused as they strolled into the clubhouse.
The three patched members settled around the table to ponder the problem, leaving the prospects to wait in the main part of the clubhouse.
"You're thinkin' about the money?" Kozik asked.
Tig was tempted to make a snarcastic retort, but his heart wasn't into it. "Yeah. Can't believe Alvarez would have a safe with no money in it!"
"People keep some strange shit in those things," Piney remarked. "Wonder where Salazar got the idea Alvarez had so much cash on hand?"
"Prolly just assumed it came from the 'H' traffic," Tig mused. "Doesn't matter. Club's coffers aren't overflowin' at the moment," he admitted grimly.
"Short of knockin' over a bank, I don't have any ideas myself," Kozik replied. "I really don't feel right askin' Ima for money this early in our relationship."
"I know the feelin'. Cat's not rollin' in dough, either. I hate the idea of turnin' to her to help the club out with a money crisis!"
"It wouldn't be the first time she tried to help," Piney observed. "Did ya forget that she tried to get a loan to get all of you out of the SJCCF?"
This was the first that Tig knew about such an event but he wasn't about to let Piney or Kozik know that. "Doesn't surprise me. She knew I wouldn't leave the others behind," he replied. He wasn't pleased to learn about this from Piney and his eyes narrowed menacingly. "How'd you know about it?"
"Down, Tigger!" Piney huffed. "Gem mentioned it when she and Tara were tryin' to get funds together. At the time, the girls only had enough to get Clay and Jax out. She asked me and Ope for help, but I was on my last few bucks for the month and Ope was still payin' on Donna's funeral."
'Makes sense. I'll have to talk to her later about this, and why she didn't tell me!' He seethed inwardly. 'Guess it's possible she just wanted to have it handy in case it was needed. She's always doin' shit like that.' Tig visibly relaxed and added, "In the meantime, we gotta get word to Salazar that we met the first part of his demands."
"What if he asks for proof?" Kozik asked.
"He can get it on the street," Tig snarled, heading for the doorway. He planned to make the call from the bar where the prospects could hear what was going on. "Once I get done with this call, we've got a funeral service to get to! We might just make it in time!"
Miles and Phil had beers open and ready for them the minute the door was open. Piney glared at the beer and pointed to the tequila bottle. Phil put it and a shot glass in front of the biker while Tig called the number Salazar had given them.
The ringing of the doorbell roused Cat from a deep sleep. She felt a warm furry form beside her and looked over to find Misty curled up on the bed. "Well hello, little girl!" Cat murmured to the purring feline. "Did you miss me that badly to leave your siblings and join me in a nap?" She stroked the satiny fur while the doorbell rang again. "Sorry baby, gotta go see who's at the door!" The cat stretched and yawned mightily before curling up with her nose under her tail.
Cat envied the feline's ability to go back to sleep so quickly. Much as she wanted to, she had too much on her agenda. She limped to the front door and peeked through the safety glass.
Ima was standing at the door, dressed in a simple black two piece outfit. It was elegant and more than covered the essential areas.
Cat opened the door with a warm smile lighting her face. "Hi, Ima! C'mon in!"
"Did I wake you?" the actress inquired as she slipped inside the door. She was nervous about being inside the Tragers' home, as well as hosting the wake that evening.
"Yeah, but I was gonna have to get up eventually," Cat replied with a wry smile. "You look very nice."
"Well, you indicated conservative would make the locals happy, so I took your word for it," she flushed from the compliment. "Is it really OK?"
"Honey, it's more than OK. It's purrfect!" Cat assured her. "Do y'all want some coffee? The pot's still hot and fresh."
"Sure. But don't worry about serving me. Just tell me where the cups and such are."
Cat gave her a brief tour of the kitchen. "I'll not be long; just have to freshen up and change."
"Do you mind if I turn on a light?" Ima asked. "It's a little dark in here."
"Sure. I'm still a little light sensitive from the wreck. You knew the doctor had to take a glass sliver out of my eye?"
Ima nodded as she got out two cups and poured coffee in them. "How's it feel?"
"Pretty good, other than being more sensitive to light than ever," Cat informed her, pouring creamer in her cup. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."
Ima took her coffee cup into the living room, turning on one of the lamps on an end table next to the sofa. She settled into the corner and took a sip of coffee, enjoying the music Cat had turned on as she limped back to the bedroom.
A small feline form raced into the living room. The small one eyed cat stopped and gazed anxiously at Ima. "Hi, kitty! You're a pretty little thing!" She held her hand out, but the one eyed cat scampered on to the kitchen and out of sight. "Still scared of people," she acknowledged, taking another sip of coffee. "I can relate. I'm a little scared, too."
"No need to be," Cat stated as she limped into the living room. She was carrying her now empty coffee cup with her. She'd changed into a long sleeved black dress with a full skirt that reached her knees. She wore knee length, heelless black suede boots and a golden cat pendent around her neck. She'd anticipated that Ima would have turned on the lights in the front room and wore the tinted insert in her glasses.
"That's a nice outfit!" Ima exclaimed.
"I don't usually wear dresses, but y'all gave me some incentive!" Cat smiled, limping on into the kitchen. "Sorry Misty snubbed y'all."
Ima followed close behind with her own coffee cup. "That's OK. I've noticed she shies away from people at the coffeehouse. She hides whenever they get close to the window."
"Looks like we've got a little time yet before we have to get to Dubrowski's. Want a refill?"
"Please." Cat refilled both cups and settled into Alex's chair at the kitchen table. Ima took the seat across from her.
"Do you think the guys will make it to the service?"
"I don't know, darlin'. Did Kozik call y'all?" Ima nodded, her eyes dark with concern. "He said he'd try to make it, but didn't sound certain. Said something drastic came up. Did Tig tell you anything? Are they in danger?"
Cat set her coffee cup down on the table and folded her hands around them. "You care about the guy." It was a statement and Ima merely nodded. "I don't want to overstep here, Ima. You're in a new relationship with Koz, and it's up to him how much he wants y'all to know."
"Tig talks to you, doesn't he?"
"Yes, but at first he wanted to keep our relationship separate from the club. These days, it's just easier to have full disclosure between us. He doesn't tell me everything, but he tells me a lot. I hope it helps him in the long run to have someone he trusts outside the club to talk to."
"I imagine it does. But you still haven't said whether they're OK." Ima insisted.
"Would I look this calm and collected if I knew they weren't? They're whole, and that's really all I can say about it for now, Ima. It's not that I don't trust y'all."
The haunted look in Ima's eyes fled the minute she knew her man was unharmed. "You've told me enough. How long do you think we should wait for them here?"
Cat glanced at her watch and frowned. "If we intend to get to Dubrowski's on time, we can't wait any longer. If they can make it, they'll meet us there."
The sound of muffled footsteps alerted Tara to the approach of their captors. One look at the grim expressions on their faces made her heart sink. She had a feeling they weren't coming with food or to allow Margaret and her to stretch their muscles.
Hector's pronouncement that the Sons hadn't come through and he was going to make an example of Margaret was enough to put fear in both captive's hearts.
Tara and Margaret tried to negotiate with him, but his mind was made up. Luisa went about the business of untying Margaret from the post and from the ropes that bound her and Tara together in grim anticipation.
The minute Tara felt the ropes around her wrist come loose, she shoved Luisa as hard as she could, knocking the woman's gun to the floor. Tara leapt after it, but Hector kicked her away from it.
Tara lay panting on her back while Margaret screamed at their tormentors that Tara was pregnant. She acknowledged that fact just as Hector's cell phone rang.
Hector listened intently to Tig's claim that Alvarez was dead. When he asked for confirmation, he was told to go ask in the community. He then placed the phone to Tara's face so she could talk briefly with Tig, who assured her they'd get her back. The women had won a reprieve for a few more hours.
Hector and Luisa tied them to the post again without allowing either a restroom or stretch break. Luisa tied the bonds extra tight, remarking on how loose they'd gotten again.
"Don't wiggle so much!" She snarled before she and Hector left them alone in the attic.
"Did the club really kill that man?" Margaret asked in a quivering voice.
"I suspect they got him to agree to make it look that way," Tara assured her softly. 'Too much blood would be shed otherwise.'
"Will we really ever get out of here alive?"
"I know we will!"
Dubrowski's parking lot was full. A number of cars were already lined up for the processional. The funeral home attendant asked if either Cat or Ima were family.
"Not legally, but we were with him the day he died, and I was one of the names listed on his power of attorney," Cat replied.
"Then I guess that puts you further up in the line," the attendant replied. Cat parked where she was instructed, then she and Ima walked into the funeral home.
"Where should we sit?" Ima whispered.
"I'd prefer toward the back, in case they guys can make it and want to sit with us."
"That works for me," Ima replied. They settled into the very back row, which was still empty. "
Do you want to see Lumpy's body?" Ima whispered.
"I'd rather remember him as he was," Cat replied. "You can go ahead if y'all want. They might have people file past the coffin at the end for one last look."
"I'd rather wait. Frankly, after watching him die, I'd prefer not to take a last look," Ima shuddered.
"That's understandable," Cat replied sympathetically.
Tig and Piney suddenly appeared next to her while Kozik walked around to the other side to sit beside Ima. The women moved down the row a seat to allow Piney to sit at the end. All three men were wearing caps on their heads and didn't look happy about it.
"Hey!" Cat whispered to Alex, placing a hand on his arm. "Glad y'all made it."
"Hey back. So are we." He waggled his eyebrows at her as he took in her outfit. "I forgot how good ya look in a dress, baby."
"And y'all's behavior is why I don't wear one very often!" She retorted.
Piney crooked his finger at her and she leaned forward. He pointed to his head, and grumbled "What's this for and why the Hell do we hafta wear it?"
"Hang on a second," Cat turned to Ima and whispered, "You two might want to hear this, too."
Ima nodded and whispered to Kozik. They stood up and moved behind the row of seats so Cat wouldn't have to raise her voice. "It's a gesture of respect. All men are required to wear a yarmulke, or prayer cap," she explained. "You'll wear 'em until the graveside services are over."
"What do we do during the service?" Alex inquired.
"Not much. Say 'Amen' after the prayers. There might be some unison responses. If y'all aren't comfortable with that, it's OK to stay silent."
"I accept that," Piney grunted.
Alex squeezed her thigh affectionately as Kozik and Ima returned to their seats.
One of the funeral attendants approached their row, frowning in consternation. Cat tensed momentarily, wondering if the men would be asked to leave because of their attire. They were in jeans and plain shirts, having left their cuts outside. 'Hope they left 'em in the car!'
"Which of you gentlemen are 'Alex Trager' and 'Herman Kozik'?" He whispered. Kozik winced to have his first name used in front of his woman. 'There's nothin' I can do about it now!' He thought wryly, holding up one finger.
Alex smothered a grin and lifted his hand slightly.
"Mr. Feldstein requested the two of you serve as pall bearers. Would you be willing to do so?" His expression indicated he hoped they'd decline.
'Must be because of their apparel,' Cat seethed inwardly.
"Absolutely," Alex replied.
"Same here," Kozik stated.
"We just got away from work and didn't have time to change," Piney added.
"Normally it would be considered an insult to the family," the attendant whispered haughtily. "Since Mr. Feldstein has no family, we're just have to accept it, won't we?"
"Y'all obviously weren't employed here when SAMCRO held the funeral for Kip Evans, or y'all wouldn't be talkin' that way!" Cat chastised the man in an angry whisper. "Family isn't always because of blood or marriage. One can also chose their family, and these men you're insultin' were Mr. Feldstein's family!"
Alex squeezed her thigh again to let her know he wasn't offended. He was inwardly amused at her tigress - like defense of him. His eyes shone with pride.
"You two 'gentlemen' may come up to the front to join the other pall bearers at the end of the service," the attendant announced to Tig and Kozik, completely ignoring Cat's whispered outburst.
"Absolutely," Alex replied again.
The attendant walked away as if he were walking on hot coals.
"There's a word for people like that, but I won't use it here," Cat grumbled.
"Good. We don't wanna get thrown out," Alex whispered in her ear.
The piped in music ended and a hush settled over the chapel. Rabbi Lichtenstein approached the lectern to begin the service. Cat had no trouble murmuring a heartfelt 'Amen!' at the end of the prayers. The unison responses threw her a bit, so that she was a beat or two behind the other mourners. None of her companions even tried.
Rabbi Lichtenstein announced the 'shiva' would take place later that evening, giving the address for 'Charming Pawse'. "The owner, Cat Marshall – er - Trager, has graciously offered the use of her establishment. As many of you are aware, Mr. Feldstein's gym and home were recently vandalized," he added.
"He didn't have to add that bit about me!" Cat grumbled under her breath.
"Shut up, baby! It's a compliment, learn how to take one once in awhile!" Alex softly admonished.
"If you two don't behave, I'll have to separate you!" Piney hissed.
After the closing prayer, the funeral attendant motioned for the occupants of the last row to come forward to view Lumpy's body. Cat remained seated, as did Kozik and Ima.
"You comin', baby?" Alex whispered as he slipped out of the row. Cat shook her head and motioned for Alex to go ahead with Piney.
Kozik leaned across Ima to inform Cat they'd brought the van. "We figured it'd be less conspicuous than the bikes. Left our cuts in it. We're parked behind your car. Tig was quite 'persuasive' about it!" He grinned.
"I'll bet he was!"
Piney trudged back to the row from the center aisle, moving to stand behind the trio. "Tig needs ya up front, Koz."
Kozik gripped Ima's hand for a moment, then stood up and walked down the side aisle as if he'd decided to say a last goodbye after all. At the last moment, he stepped aside to join Tig and the other pallbearers.
Cat nudged Ima and motioned to Piney that they should leave the chapel. The pallbearers were gathered in a closed anteroom, waiting to carry the coffin to the hearse. The funeral attendants waited for the chapel to clear of mourners before they prepared the body to close the coffin for good. They didn't wish to perform that ritual while any mourners were present.
The trio stepped out into the sunshine and Cat hurriedly placed her sunglasses on over her regular glasses and the insert. "At least it's not rainin'!" She sighed.
"Guess ya realize that Tig's a little pissed off that ya drove," Piney observed as he escorted the women to the Cruiser.
"I gathered that," she grinned quite unrepentantly.
"You're kinda hard on the guy at times," Piney added approvingly.
"Keeps him from becomin' complacent!"
"She was asleep when I got to their house!" Ima interjected loyally. "I had to ring the bell three times!"
"Oh, I don't doubt it," Piney grinned.
"If Tig and Kozik don't make it back to ride with you, it might be because they're ridin' in a 'pallbearer's' car," Cat advised. "I didn't think to ask about it when that stuffed shirt spoke to the guys."
"I don't think there is, I see 'em comin' this way," Piney replied.
'Alex doesn't look too happy with me at the moment!' In fact, he looked quite grim as he approached the parked Cruiser. "Relax, love. I napped before we left. Ima will vouch for me," she hastened to assure him.
"That might be; I'd be a Hell of a lot happier if you'd let Ima drive!" He growled.
"I'm fine, love!" She protested.
"I'm gonna have Piney walk with ya at the grave site. No arguments, woman!"
"That's good. There are nine stops for Scripture readin's between the parking place and the grave," Cat informed him.
"Nine? Why am I just now hearin' about this?" Alex grimaced.
Cat shrugged, though her eyes gave away her enjoyment at Alex's dismay. "Sorry, love. I didn't know he'd honor y'all this way. It's not like we had a lot of time to discuss it!"
"True dat," he squeezed her shoulder as he held the car door open for her. "I expect ya to watch out for her old man!" He added to Piney.
"Oh yes I will!" He promised as he lumbered to the van. Cat lowered the window on her side in case Alex had any parting comments to make. He leaned in and asked, "You want me to drive, baby?"
"Too late, love. I'll be OK," she replied over the sound of car ignitions. She started her engine as Alex and Kozik scampered to the van.
Jacob Hale sat in the air conditioned luxury of his Mercedes, scowling through the tinted windshield. He was a displeased with his vehicle's placement in the procession. It was bad enough that Earnest Darby's SUV was ahead of him, but to be placed several cars behind Cat Trager's car and the Teller Morrow van as well was downright insulting!
'At least Darby wore appropriate attire!' Hale thought uncharitably. 'No surprise those bikers showed up in jeans! I'm surprised they weren't wearing their cuts!'
He angrily stifled a prickle of conscience to recall the Sons hadn't worn their cuts to his brother's service. 'What was Lumpy thinking of to name Trager and that other biker as pall bearers?'
The first line of cars went past him and he remained slumped in the driver's seat of his car. He stayed that way until the PT and the van crawled past him. His raised windows were tinted, so it wasn't likely the occupants of either vehicle would recognize him. He didn't want to take any chances.
The car ahead of him slowly rolled forward. He slid the transmission into 'Drive' and followed that car ahead onto the street to begin Lumpy's final journey.
Hale wasn't looking forward to the wake, or 'shiva' as the Rabbi had referred to it. But he had orders that he had to obey, whether he liked it or not.
'There's an old saying about weddings and funerals. Should be interesting to see what kind of reception I get when I walk into that coffeehouse tonight!' A large part of him hoped that Cat Marshall Trager would slip up and let her true colors show to Charming when he showed up.
Hector and Luisa took her Camaro out to find out whether SAMCRO had lied to them about Alvarez' demise. Neither worried that their captives would escape because Luisa had tied their bonds as tightly as she could. "It'll be impossible for them to get free and escape while we're gone!" She smirked.
They drove out to the main business district for the Hispanic community, parked the car, and walked around for awhile. It was hard for them to gauge the attitude of the community just from listening in to various conversations as they passed groups standing on corners or in front of the many shops. They didn't want to ask anyone about Alvarez in case SAMCRO had lied to them.
"This is no good, Hector. We need to stay in one place where we can blend in safely and listen in to the conversations!" Luisa snorted.
"You're right, Chula," he replied, leading her to a nearby sidewalk cafe. They could sit quietly, enjoy some refreshments, and listen in to the conversations around them. If Alvarez had indeed been killed, the word would be out and people would be talking.
By the time their waitress had taken their plates away and poured more coffee for them, the couple had learned everything they needed to know about Alvarez. They pretended to be shocked when they heard the occupants at the table next to them discussing Alvarez; death.
Luisa asked the occupants a couple of questions in Spanish, receiving a lengthy answer from them.
"Gracias," she replied to the group. "Tan triste noticia. Dios tenga en su alma."
"Si," the man who'd given her the news replied softly.
"Adios," Hector added, rising from his chair and extending a hand to Luisa. They walked slowly from the cafe, looking as if they'd lost a good friend. That same expression was on the faces of many of the people they passed.
They remained silent until they returned to the Camaro and Hector could give in to his elation. "They really did it!" He gloated, his eyes alight with a devilish glee. "I didn't think the putas would pull it off!"
"But they didn't say the Sons did it, baby!" Luisa protested.
"Think, Luisa! Do you really think the Mayans would announce that SAMCRO killed their Prez? That intel would get back to SAMCRO so they'd be prepared!"
Luisa thought on that a moment. "I see. The Mayans want to catch them off guard when they retaliate."
"Si, Chula!"
"So do we release those putas?"
Hector shook his head. "No. We wait to see if the club delivers the cash," he started the car, but didn't put it in gear. Instead he sat staring out the windshield, deep in thought.
"We need to arrange a drop," he muttered to himself. "It has to be someplace public where I can watch them and make sure they haven't involved the police."
"You really don't think they'd involve police in this, do you?" Luisa inquired. She knew she'd never go near the police it someone kidnapped Hector, she'd just handle it and get him back while shedding as much of the enemy's blood as possible.
"I don't put anything past them, Chula!" Hector spat angrily. "I don't trust them any further than I can throw 'em."
"Are you going to take the women to the drop?"
"I don't know yet," he confided. "If the police are there, it could get real sticky real quick." He mentally considered his options before adding, "I think it's better to have SAMCRO drop the money, then arrange a pick up at another place."
"I'm worried, Hector. Both of those bitches can identify us," Luisa reminded him.
"Just because we arrange a pick up doesn't mean we have to deliver a live body." Hector grinned evilly.
"But I thought you said the VP's old lady might still be useful to us!"
"What I said and what I do are two different things. What's SAMCRO going to do about it if they find two dead bodies? Go to the police when they're facing a major war with the Mayans for breaking the agreement?" Hector pointed out. He put the car in gear, smiling triumphantly at his decision.
Luisa relaxed against the seat. She liked the idea of taking the money and killing their captives. They'd be $250 thousand richer, and there'd be no witnesses to rat them out. They could start a new life somewhere else and live like royalty.
Cat was determined to get through the entire grave site service for Lumpy, but the ritual processional was rapidly tiring her out. She had grown used to standing and walking for long periods of time during the inaugural days of her coffeehouse, so she didn't anticipate she'd have trouble with the physical demands the cemetery service would put on her. The slow progression from the hearse to the grave became more difficult for her with every stop for a Scripture reading. She found herself relying more and more on Piney's sturdy arm to keep her from stumbling or falling from fatigue.
Piney grew considerably worried over the increasing amount of support he was giving Tig's wife. He could feel the hand she laid on his arm tremble with fatigue. Apparently the casual observer couldn't tell she was in discomfort. Even Tig, who kept one eye on her while he carried out his pallbearer duties couldn't tell anything was wrong with her.
"Y'know, I doubt anyone will think less of ya for goin' on to the grave site and waitin' for us to get there," he whispered into her ear. "I don't even think Lumpy will mind. You could sit and rest for a bit."
"I mind, darlin'," Cat replied. "It would be terribly rude. Besides, it's not that bad, and we're almost to the last stop."
Piney shook his head but didn't press the issue. Eventually, the group reached the canopied grave site, and Piney whispered a quick word to the funeral home owner, who was standing beside the Rabbi. A moment later, Cat found herself being placed in the second row of seats with Ima next to her, and Lumpy's assistant manager and other employees beside her.
They watched the pall bearers slide the coffin onto the temporary bier. Tig and Kozik moved away from the coffin to stand behind their women. Both men placed their hands on the back of their women's chairs, though Tig's fingers rested on Cat's upper arms.
He glanced worriedly at Piney, who shrugged and whispered, "She dug in her heels and wouldn't get here ahead of Lumpy."
"So what else is new?" Tig whispered back.
"Quit talkin' about me behind my back!" Cat hissed over her shoulder.
Alex tapped her arms with his fingers in an admonishing gesture. The mourners behind them were growing silent, waiting for the Rabbi to begin the grave side ritual.
Rabbi Lichtenstein was puzzled by the obvious reluctance of Lumpy's closest friends and employees to sit in the very front row where family would sit. He'd conducted many services where the dearly departed had no living family. Usually close friends would fill that role without being asked.
Dubrowski noticed the worried expression on the Rabbi's face and stepped beside him as the coffin was being slid into place. "Something wrong, Rabbi?"
"I'm just trying to figure out what will happen at the end of the service without any family to speak of."
"I was thinking of that myself," Dubrowski nodded. Normally, the mourners would form two opposite lines, leaving an aisle between them so the mourners could offer a traditional consolation to each family member as he or she passed.
"Ibrahim – Mr. Feldstein – didn't have living family," the Rabbi explained, indicating the vacant front row.
"Why not just ask those close friends and employees who wish to participate be the last to leave the grave site?" Dubrowski inquired.
"But what if no one volunteers?"
"Would it be so bad if there weren't?" Dubrowski countered.
"It's not fair to answer my question with a question!" Rabbi Lichtenstein smiled wryly. "I don't have the answer to that."
"Well, I guess we'll give it a try and see what happens," Dubrowski observed.
"Then you, my friend, can make that announcement when the time comes!" The Rabbi grinned as he stepped to the center of the grave behind the coffin. He began the graveside service with a prayer.
Cat's companions knew without her telling them that what had applied at the chapel applied at the cemetery. They opted to remain silent throughout the brief service.
After the closing prayer, Dubrowski stepped beside the Rabbi and gestured for the mourner's attention. "At this time the coffin will be lowered into the prepared grave. When the ushers signal you to do so, starting with those standing in the very back, you are invited to come forward, take a handful of dirt, and place it in the grave. If you prefer, there is a shovel provided for you to use. Please do not hand it to the next person in line, just return it to the pile.
"Once you have placed your portion of dirt in the grave, we ask you to form two lines opposing each other, leaving an aisle between the lines," Dubrowski continued. "Any of Mr. Feldstein's employees or closest friends who wish to receive the traditional condolence are invited to proceed through the double receiving line."
The plain pine box was slowly and quietly lowered into the grave as the funeral home director spoke made his announcement. As soon as the electronic winch completed the maneuver, Dubrowski gestured to one of his employees at the back of the group to begin the final part of the ceremony.
The employee signaled to the person standing next to him to move forward. One by one, each person came forward to place the ceremonial portion of dirt into the grave. Ernest Darby, due to the bandages on his hand, used the shovel. Most of the mourners, including Elliot Oswald, used their hands.
When it became Jacob Hale's turn, he kept his back erect and head high as he passed the bikers standing behind the women in the second row of chairs. He took hold of the shovel and lifted a small amount of dirt into it, tossing it into the grave and then returning the shovel into the pile of dirt. He marched behind the double line of mourners and on to his parked car.
A soft buzz of discontent followed his back at the obvious snub to Lumpy's friends and employees. Cat merely shrugged as if it were no major concern to her. Her obvious disregard for Hale's snub quieted the muttered discordance.
The Rabbi and Dubrowski gazed inquiringly at the group seated on the second row. Lumpy's assistant manager stood up and moved to the mound of dirt. He took a handful, paused a moment, then tossed it into the open grave. The assistant manager turned and walked through the double line, nodding acceptance of both the Hebrew and English wish of condolence. "Ha Makom yenahm elkhem b'tok sha ar aveilei Tzion vYerushalayim - may the Onipresent comfort you among all the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem."
"Is that all there is to it?" Kozik whispered over his shoulder to Cat as he watched Ima take an ample handful of dirt from the mound. Tig and Piney turned attentive ears towards her.
"Yup. No one touches the 'family' at this time. You just walk down the line and the people speak the traditional wish you hard 'em give Lumpy's employee. They'll say it in either Hebrew or English."
"Are ya gonna do it?" Kozik asked.
"Of course!" Cat insisted, meeting her husband's concerned glare.
Kozik moved forward to place his own ample handful of dirt into the grave while Ima stood to one side waiting for him. She gestured to the Rabbi to whisper an inquiry. "Is it all right for couples to walk together and hold hands?"
"It would be better, Miss, if your male companion offers his arm to you," Rabbi Lichtenstein replied. "Just like the other gentleman did earlier for Mrs. Trager."
Kozik offered his arm to Ima, who slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. Turning in unison, they slowly walked through the double line and on to the parked vehicles.
"You go ahead of us, Piney," Tig announced, stepping aside to allow the founding member space to move. "It's my turn to escort my woman!"
Piney nodded and moved to place his portion of dirt over the grave. He stood a moment in silence, wishing his old friend a good rest before he turned and followed Kozik and Ima through the double line.
"Y'all go ahead, love," Cat stated to Alex as she sat down in the front row.
"You a'right, baby?"
"Yeah, just wanna think a moment," she assured him. While Alex performed his part of the ritual, she glanced out past the canopy and towards the sky, sending her thoughts towards Heaven. 'Well, Lumpy, this is it. I've been to a lot of funerals in my life for all walks of faith. I hope we did right by y'all. I don't know what y'all were thinkin' in puttin' me in charge of your will! That's a pretty big job to have Alex and 'Hoiman' work together on keepin' the gym open! But y'all were right: Kozik isn't such a bad guy when he's not hasslin' Alex. I guess y'all knew that.'
A light touch on her shoulder drew her out of her reverie. Alex held his hand out to help her up from the chair. She placed her hand in his and let him pull her to his side. She leaned against him for a moment, took a deep breath, then moved forward to take her own handful of dirt. She held it loosely in her open palm, blew a kiss at the dirt, then let it sift through her fingers to settle on top of the plain pine box. "Goodbye dear one," she whispered softly.
She looked across to the Rabbi to express her gratitude to him and the funeral director. "It was a good service, Rabbi Lichtenstein. Mr. Dubrowski, I kinda gave one of your staff a hard time about Tig and the guys' appearance. I apologize for bein' a little temperamental."
"No offense, Mrs. Trager," Dubrowski assured her. "He's new. He'll learn. You probably gave him a lesson he'll long remember."
Cat nodded and turned to Alex, who held out his arm to her in the same manner Kozik had done for Ima. Cat slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and they walked slowly past the double line of mourners.
As they drew near the parking area, another of Dubrowski's employees took Alex's cap from him. Alex turned it over with a slight sigh of relief, shaking his head to settle his hair in place.
"I'll bet Piney was happy to turn that cap in!" Cat observed softly as they walked away to the PT.
"You're prolly right," Alex agreed.
She was shaking with fatigue by the time they reached the car. Alex led her to the passenger side and indicated to Ima that she should drive. "Don't even think of openin' that mouth of yours to argue, woman!" He growled when Cat started to protest. "You're lettin' someone else drive and that's final!" He opened the passenger side door and stood aside so she could get in.
She favored him with 'The Look', but its effect was dampened by the presence of her wraparound sunglasses. She stood defiantly next to the open door while the other three looked on with delight.
"Ya can stand there all day if ya want, I can wait," Alex growled. "I'm willin' to bet ya won't last another five minutes, though!"
"Damn you!" Cat snarled, sliding gingerly into the passenger seat. She didn't want to give in, but she was just too tired to defy him.
To his credit, Alex didn't smirk with triumph while he leaned in to secure her in the safety harness. He suspected that his wife might bite him if he did so. The triumphant smirk he held back illuminated his face the minute he was safely out of biting range. "I knew you'd obey me!"
"Fuck y'all!" She growled.
"With pleasure!" He grinned wickedly. "That dress is a real turn on, baby!" He shut the door before she deliver an appropriately biting reply.
"Man, you love to live dangerously," Kozik remarked as they walked to the van.
"Absolutely," Tig replied, still grinning from his win. "That's why I'm ridin' with you guys back to the clubhouse. Give her time to cool off!"
As soon as Jacob Hale walked away from the double line, he realized he'd made a grave mistake. Mutterings of discontent rumbled in his wake. None of the people who'd joined the line could believe that Hale was being so disrespectful of Lumpy.
Oswald attempted to calm the shock and dismay that followed Hale's rigid back. Some of the muttering lowered in volume, but not in intensity.
'There's nothing I can do about it now!' He shrugged mentally. 'It won't change anything for me to go back and get in line. I can always explain at if asked that I didn't know better.'
He continued towards his parked car with his back straight and head held high, handing his cap to the funeral home employee positioned to retrieve them.
Hale sat in the driver's seat for a moment to attempt to relax. The entire service had made him tense. He needed to go someplace where he could relax before the wake at 'Charming Pawse'. He was hungry and decided to drive to 'Hannah's Place' for pie and coffee.
Hale sat at his usual booth where he could watch traffic enter his town via the highway. He was half way through his pie when his cell phone began ringing. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned. An unknown number was calling. He was tempted to let the call go to voice mail, but if the caller was who he thought it might be, that would not be a good idea. He sighed and activated the phone. "This is Hale," he announced quietly.
"This is Zobelle. I'm not pleased with what you did at Feldstein's grave. That might have cost you the mayor's office."
'How the Hell did he know?' Hale glanced around him, wondering if there was some kind of camera trained on him for Zobelle to know what had happened from so far away.
"I can tell from your silence that you're wondering how I know that you didn't participate in the last part of Mr. Feldstein's funeral," Zobelle continued dryly. "Suffice it to say that I have my ways of knowing what is happening in any of the towns that LOAN or myself has a vested interest."
'And he definitely has a vested interest in Charming!' Hale observed dryly to himself. "I just couldn't tolerate the idea of uttering condolences to that woman and the club she associates with!" Hale protested quietly. There weren't many patrons in the restaurant, but he didn't want the few present to hear his conversation.
"I appreciate your reluctance to go against your principles. Performing an act that you do not genuinely feel can be distasteful. However, in this instance, clinging to your principles has done more harm to your political aspirations than it helped. Especially considering that your potential opponent, Elliot Oswald, joined the double line of mourners."
"If anyone asks, I can say that I didn't know any better!" Hale retorted.
"That won't work, Jacob," Zobelle replied sadly. "Too many people will remember that the funeral home director instructed everyone on what to do at the end of the service. Your only hope of reclaiming your image lies in attending the wake tonight, and in capitulating to Mrs. Trager about the gym."
"I was going to it anyway!" Hale snapped.
"Be sure you get there early. The earlier the better, as it's likely more people will see you there. Do not talk to Mrs. Trager in the coffeehouse about the future of the gym. Ask to speak to her in the office or outside. Outside would be preferable. The townspeople will see you both talking and draw their own conclusions. Watch your body language and expression. Don't give the impression that you are there under orders from anyone. Be sincere." Zobelle paused a moment, then chuckled wryly. "I know that may be a difficult concept for you to grasp, but try it anyway."
Ima heaved a sigh of relief when she put the PT in 'Park' in Cat's driveway. She turned off the ignition and handed the keys over to her companion.
"I know, darlin'. Drivin' another person's car with the owner in the driver's seat can be a hairy experience," Cat sympathetically noted.
"For being larger than my Toyota, it really handles well. I thought it would be hard to steer like a truck," Ima replied sheepishly.
"Don't worry, darlin'. I first thought the same way when the car was first advertised. But it grew on me, and after I bought the red one, the 'MF6', I was hooked."
Ima wrinkled her nose quizzically at Cat's reference to her demolished red car as the 'MF6'. She only knew of one connotation for 'MF', and she was certain Cat wouldn't call her car something so derogatory!
"'Millennium Falcon 6.' Got my first car at age 16, just about the time that the first Star Wars movie came out. I loved that car, and called it the 'Millennium Falcon'. Every car that I've really loved since then has been named such, so I've had six well loved cars," Cat explained.
"So this is the 'MF7'?" Cat shook her head. "Technically, yes. I christened him 'Black Beauty', after the Green Hornet's car, because it's a little more pimped out than my other PT."
Ima smiled at that, though the idea of naming an inanimate object was foreign to her. She referred to her car as 'The Car', and that was it. "It's certainly an interesting way to look at it!" She glanced in concern as she exited the car and added, "Where's the guys? I thought the van was behind us."
"They probably went to the compound so Kozik could pick up his bike for the 'shiva'," Cat replied. I imagine the prospects will be ridin' with 'em when the guys get here."
"Are you sure some kind of club business didn't come up all of a sudden?" Ima asked worriedly.
"We'd have been called or sent a text if that were the case," Cat assured her. "Believe me, y'all will get used to it. It just takes time."
"I hope so," Ima replied uncertainly.
"Let's go on into the house. I've got a couple of things to do before we go to the coffeehouse," Cat stated, unlocking the door and checking for the ever present feline escape artist.
Ebony wasn't in the house yet, though it was close to closing time. The women hastily entered and shut the door in case the large cat heard the door open from the garage. "Guess the kittens are still in their room. I'm sure they'll come scampering home before long. The cat room will be dark for the 'shiva'." Cat observed, limping into her office.
Ima followed behind her, leaning against the door frame as she watched Cat cut strips from a piece of black fabric. "What's that for?"
"It's traditional when 'sitting Shiva' for the family to rip a piece of clothing as an expression of their grief. It's permissible to wear a torn piece of fabric instead, so I'm makin' these for us. We can pin the the strip to our tops."
"So you're cutting that little area to make it easier to tear?"
"You catch on fast!" Cat grinned. "Dunno about y'all, but I'm no She – Hulk, capable of tearing fabric without a little help!"
"How'd you get so knowledgeable of all this?" Ima asked. "The funeral and the wake and the like?"
Cat put the scissors away and gathered up the fabric strips. "I'm a preacher's kid, so it was pretty much a given that I'd learn about other religions out of respect. Judaism is the root of most all religions," she explained. "I also did a little online research to be certain that we wouldn't make a major mistake."
"Piney certainly looked a bit put out about the cap!" Ima giggled.
"He probably hasn't worn any kind of head cover other than his bike helmet for years," Cat observed.
"Hmm. I never thought about that!"
Their attention shifted to the living room, where the sounds of Tig arguing with Ebony indicated the men had arrived. "Shall we go meet our guys?" Cat inquired as she rose carefully from the chair.
Tig rode from the clubhouse in the van with Piney and Chuckie. Kozik and the two prospects followed on their bikes. They all parked on the street in front of Tig's and Cat's house to cut down on the number of vehicles that would be parked near the coffeehouse.
"C'mon in for a bit," he invited the others as he unlocked the door. He stomped his foot at Ebony, who was running for the door the second he heard the key in the lock.
The large black cat fluffed his tail and landed on the back of the sofa. His tail swished in disgust at being denied the great outdoors.
"Don't ya be givin' me the stink eye, furball!" Tig growled. "Ya oughta know there is no escape by now!"
The other club members hurried inside before the cat could make a second try to escape. As the door closed securely behind them, Filthy Phil remarked, "That looks more like a baby black panther instead of a cat!"
"Don't give him any ideas!" Tig cautioned.
"Does he bite?" Phil inquired worriedly.
"What the hell do ya think a 20 pound cat's gonna do?" Tig growled.
"Ahh, he's a pussycat!" Chuckie remarked, walking toward Ebony with his finger stretched towards the large feline.
Ebony's ears were flattened against his skull, but he sniffed cautiously at Chuckie's finger, recognized him as a friend, and began rubbing his head against the digit in an obvious demand for attention.
"Guess he's more interested in gettin' a scratch under the chin than in bein' mad!" Piney chuckled, watching as Chuckie worshipped the feline.
A loud rumble, similar to the idle of a Harley, filled the living room as the cat closed its' eyes and purred in delight. His tail reduced size and went from thrashing along the sofa back to twitching at the tip.
Cat limped into the living room, followed by Ima. The porn actress rushed to Kozik's side and embraced him like she hadn't seen him in months instead of a few minutes.
Kozik's face reddened. He liked the attention from his woman, but he wished his brothers weren't grinning so evilly at him. 'I'm gonna hear about this later!'
Cat leaned against the wall, favoring her man with a warm gaze of welcome. She didn't have to embarrass him in front of the club to let him know he'd been missed. He could tell that from her expression, and it made him warm inside.
"I thought I heard a commotion in here!" She grinned sardonically. "Apparently y'all reminded Ebony who's top cat around here."
"He's got a bad habit of forgettin'," Alex replied. "That's not a good thing for a 10 year old."
"You forget that one year to us is multiple years to animals; I think it's a seven to one ratio, so that means Ebony's an old fart who's entitled to a little forgetfulness!" She retorted.
Alex advanced on her in such a menacing way that the prospects and the couple thought he was going to strike her. Piney and Chuckie merely grinned, watching the Tragers' by play.
Cat's lips were twitching from the effort to keep from laughing at Alex's threatening advance. He stopped in front of her and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You are gonna pay for that, woman!"
"I'm sure you'll extract the proper recompense at a more appropriate time!" She laughingly retorted.
"You got that right!" He grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulder to draw her close to him. "What the Hell are all those fabric strips for?"
"For us to wear tonight," she explained the significance of the black fabric strips and added, "I didn't figure anyone would want to tear their clothing."
"Good thinkin', baby!" Alex replied approvingly. "By the way, brought a friend of yours back from the clubhouse."
She turned her gaze on Chuckie and limped out from under Alex's arm to her former employee. "Chuckie! How are y'all?" She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"I accept that!" He smiled, giving her a swift hug back. "I'm fine, Lady Cat, it really hasn't been that long since you hired me, you know."
She stepped back and grinned at him. "It seems like it's been a year! Looks like the club's treatin' y'all well."
"Yes, mam! I'm their jack of all trades!"
"Y'all are like the cats, always landin' on your feet," she observed, moving back to stand beside Alex. She gazed quizzically at him and added, "Where are your cuts?"
"Mine's hangin' in the closet; the guys left theirs in the van. We decided it wouldn't be right to wear 'em to this thing tonight."
"Listen, while you and Kozik and Ima are here, I need to talk to all y'all," she stated. "Chuckie, do you still have your key to the coffeehouse?"
"I sure do!"
"Would y'all mind takin' Piney and the prospects on across the back yard to the coffeehouse?"
"I accept that," he replied. "We'll see ya there in a bit." He motioned to the other three to head to the back door.
Piney glared at Ebony and pointed a finger at the cat. "Don't even think of it, cat! I'm too old to chase your black ass!"
Ebony blinked at him a couple of times, then swished his tail and hopped into the recliner, curling up in an innocent ball of fur. He watched as the four men trooped out the back door, but didn't move a muscle.
"What's up, baby?" Alex when the door closed behind Chuckie and the others.
"All y'all might as well have a seat for a bit," Cat replied, settling on the sofa.
Ima sat in the far corner, while Kozik settled on the floor in front of the women, leaving the middle seat for Alex.
"OK, baby. Spit it out," Alex prompted her.
"I didn't want this to catch all y'all by surprise," she explained. "Ally Lowen's goin' to be meetin' with us after the 'shiva'."
"And ya needed to send the others away to tell us that?" Kozik stated testily.
"Shut the fuck up, asshole! Knowin' my girl, there's more to this than you're lettin' her tell!" Alex growled.
"Both of y'all need to shut up! I am not up to refereein' one of your infamous fights!" She snapped, glaring in annoyance at the two outlaws.
Ima stifled a giggle and suddenly became engrossed in stroking Ming's sleek beige fur. The Siamese had crawled into her lap and curled up in a contented ball the minute she'd sat down on the sofa.
The two bikers glanced from Ima to Cat, then shrugged their shoulders.
"Sorry, Cat," Kozik muttered, glancing anywhere but at Alex.
"Me too, baby," Alex muttered. "Go ahead."
Cat sighed and continued, "It turns out that Ally is also Lumpy's lawyer. When it became obvious that Lumpy wasn't goin' to make it, she shared the contents of his will with me. His last wish is for you and Kozik to equally share the gym, love. So it's up to all y'all if you want to repair the lobby and reopen or not."
"Are ya shittin' me?" Kozik stated in disbelief.
"Watch it, asshole! My woman wouldn't lie about somethin' like that!" Alex snarled, balling his fists in preparation for battle.
Cat placed a hand on his thigh to prevent him from rising. "As of right now, consider this place neutral, like Switzerland!" She snapped irritably. "No fightin' between y'all. You got dat?"
Alex snorted but settled back against the sofa cushions. "A'right."
Cat turned her gaze on Kozik, who was starting to rise from the floor. "I mean it, Herman!"
"OK. Got it," he grinned sheepishly and placed his butt on the floor again.
"Trust me, brother, ya don't wanna mess with her when she uses that 'Victor Newman' imitation!" Alex advised.
"I don't understand something, Cat," Ima interjected. "Why did Ms. Lowen let you read the will?"
Cat smiled at her in relief for turning the conversation back to the matter at hand. "It's a valid question. Though he stated he was in his right mind when it was written, Lumpy made me executrix of his will."
"What the fuck is an executrix?" Kozik asked. "It sounds like -"
"Don't even go there!" Alex admonished the Tacoma rider. "It's not S and M shit. It's a legal term for the female person who oversees a will. Executors are the male equivalent."
"Oh," Kozik muttered. "Why the fuck didn't she say so?"
"I did, and this would go a little easier if the peanut gallery would pipe down for a few minutes!" Cat retorted.
Kozik spread his hands in the gesture for surrender.
"Seems to me that Lumpy was definitely in his right mind to have ya handle his last wishes, baby!" Alex exclaimed, shooting a triumphant grin at Kozik. "I doubt anyone else could handle the two of us!"
"You're part of that aforementioned peanut gallery, love. So zip it!" She replied.
Now it was Kozik's turn to grin at Alex, who favored the other man with his own version of 'The Look'. He growled deep in his throat and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I know it's a surprise to you two," Cat added in a milder tone of voice. "But I need to know whether y'all want to go ahead with the insurance claim, or sell the property and be done with it."
"Fuck yeah, we wanna keep the gym!" Kozik cried in surprise.
"For once, I agree with Koz," Alex added a little less vehemently, sending a warning glance at Kozik for swearing in front of his woman. "You did talk Lump into not givin' in to those asshats that wanted to buy him out. Seems like we'd be lettin' him down if we sold now."
"I just want to be certain y'all are willin' to see this through," she replied.
"I'm in. Though I can't see runnin' the thing full - time," Alex assured her. "Even with Kozik sharin' the work, it's not gonna be easy to do with the garage and the club."
"Why don't we keep Lump's full - time employees, let them run it for us and we just manage it or whatever it is that needs to be done to keep the joint runnin'?" Kozik suggested.
"That might work. That assistant of his has been there a long time. We could make him the manager and have him oversee the day to day shit."
"Yeah, and then we approve shit like payroll and taxes and that kinda stuff!" Kozik exclaimed. Though he hated the circumstances, he found himself growing excited at the idea of operating the gym as a tribute to Lumpy.
"Take it from me, owning a business isn't always easy," Cat reminded them. "Though all y'all have an advantage I didn't have. Y'all are takin' over an already established operation."
"True dat. You'll help us, won't ya baby?" Alex coaxed.
"I'm surprised y'all think ya gotta ask. I'll do what I can," she replied.
"You'll do better than the two of us grease monkeys!" Kozik stated.
"Maybe I could help, too," Ima interjected in a small voice.
"I know y'all will!" Cat assured her. "I was fully intendin' on askin' y'all once the guys were on board."
"Chuckie would be good at takin' care of the books," Alex reminded her.
"I wondered about that. It'd be another big help," Cat replied.
"Then I think we're set. All we gotta do is get the money to repair the lobby," Alex observed. "How much is the deductible?"
Cat shook her head. "It's a grand."
Alex winced. He hadn't expected it to be so high.
"It's not that bad. I was plannin' on savin' on manpower by doin' the clean up, hole patchin' and paintin' on my own. The settlement should be enough to buy material like paint, replacement glass doors and shelvin'."
"The Hell ya will!" Alex snarled. "We'll put the prospects to work on that shit. Youdon't need to be wearin' yourself out on our account!"
Cat held up her hands in surrender. "Don't blow a gasket, love! It was just a thought!"
"Well, unthink it! It ain't happenin'!"
"Are you going to rename the gym?" Ima inquired.
Kozik and Alex exchanged glances. That hadn't occurred to them. They both shook their heads.
"Nah, baby," Kozik explained. "It's always been known as 'Lumpy's Gym'. No reason to change it."
"Absolutely!" Alex agreed. "One less expense. Keep the name and the phone number the same."
"Now that we've settled that, we need to get across the yard to the coffeehouse. It's almost time for the 'shiva'," Cat stated, rising carefully from her corner of the sofa.
"Wow! This is some set up out here!" Phil whistled as Chuckie led them across the backyard to the back of 'Charming Pawse'.
"Wonder when she has time to take care of all this?" Miles murmured.
"Not that it's any of your business, but she hired one of SAMCRO's widows to do the house cleanin' for her," Piney growled, glaring over his shoulder at the prospects. "The yard work is done by the widow's eldest son. It's another way Cat helps the club. If ya ever take an old lady, keep that in mind as somethin' to look for!"
"Will do!" Phil and Miles chorused. They were beginning to understand why the patched members might play around with Croweaters and porn stars, only to choose smart women like Tara, Cat, and Gemma to settle down with.
Chuckie grinned while he unlocked the back door to the coffeehouse. Phil and Miles had never been to the back area of 'Charming Pawse'. Piney had been on a tour with the rest of the club after they'd accepted Cat's offer to give them a stake in the profits. Chuckie had become well acquainted with the operation during his one day of employment. He gave the two prospects a brief explanation of the baking area and grinned broadly when Pete exited the office to greet them.
"Hey, Chuckie! Good to see you!" Pete waved at his former co - worker. "Is Miss Cat coming soon?"
Chuckie waved back at the assistant manager. "She'll be along. She needed to talk to Tig, Kozik, and Kozik's girl friend."
"That's good. I was getting worried that the funeral might've taken a lot out of her." Pete turned to Piney and asked, "Are these new members of the club?" He nodded at the two prospects.
"They're prospects, and they're gonna be more respectful than Sebastian!" Piney informed him, glaring meaningfully at the pair.
"Good!" Pete grinned appreciatively. "Do you guys want to go on out to the front?"
"Lead on, MacDuff!" Piney replied.
"Go ahead and make yourselves at home. The 'shiva' won't be starting for a bit. If anyone wants anything to drink, we're only serving regular coffee, tea, and water."
Phil ambled over to the large wall of bookshelves, gazing at the various titles.
Miles gazed into the darkened window in an attempt to see the cats' room.
"They're back at Miss Cat's and Mr. Tig's house," Adrian offered. "Miss Cat thought they might be a distraction."
"I knew that, just wanted to see where they hang out," Miles replied. "Is that why that long fenced in area is in the back yard?"
"You catch on fast, youngster!" Piney grinned, settling down into one of the chairs. "I'll take black coffee, especially if ya have the whiskey blend brewed," he called to Adrian.
"Coming right up, Mr. Piney!"
Miles wandered over to an empty display table. It was covered with a white cloth. "What's this for?"
"We usually display merchandise there," Pete explained as he carried Piney's cup of coffee to him. "Mugs, shirts, bagged roasted beans, and plush versions of Miss Cat's kitties. We put 'em away for the night."
"Cool," Miles nodded approvingly. He glanced at the wall of books and whistled. "People actually read these things?"
"Yup," Adrian replied. "Although we're seeing more people with those electronic books. A lot of the older customers like to select a book to read while they're here. That's why Miss Cat didn't put in a lot of tables and hard chairs. She wants people to feel comfortable here."
"She's doin' a good job of it, too!" Piney observed. "I hate those things at that other shop down the road!"
"It helps our bottom line; people who stay around here longer tend to buy more coffee."
"How does that help the bottom line?" Phil asked.
"No free refills," Chuckie grinned. "They cost a nickel each. Refills of the specialty drinks are half off the regular price, but you have to get the refill while you're here, no going out and coming back later."
Piney nodded approvingly and sipped his coffee. "Almost as good as plain whiskey!" He sighed contentedly. "Why are ya usin' plain Styrofoam cups?"
CJ entered from the back area where he'd been preparing the unsold baked goods for delivery later to the homeless shelter. "Because we didn't feel it was right to use the regular to go cups with the logo on 'em," he explained. "Plus, we needed to keep the plates, cups, and utensils clean and separate."
"Why is that necessary?" Miles inquired.
"Miss Cat said that Jewish people believe in something called keeping 'Kosher', that means keeping serving ware away from things that are used with dairy items. She figured the throwaway stuff would suffice for the Jewish and non Jewish visitors."
"As long as I don't have to wear another God damn beanie!" Piney growled.
"Nobody has to wear a beanie, and God's last name is not 'damn'!" Cat announced from the doorway separating the back area from the front. "That's somethin' we need to talk about before our guests arrive!"
Jacob Hale sat slumped in front the front seat of his Mercedes, parked across the street from 'Charming Pawse.' wHe wanted to be anywhere but there. However, he knew Zobelle would find out that he hadn't followed his orders. That was the only thing that prevented him from starting the car and driving away. He didn't want to find out what would result from not obeying Ethan Zobelle.
'At least I'm early enough to get this over and done with before too many voters see me here and get the idea that I'm supporting her candidacy!
' He watched two of Cat Marshall Trager's employees set out baked goods on two separate tables. A dark - haired, tall, mustachioed young man set an electric candle on a cloth covered table. The table sat next to an easel holding a sketch of Lumpy Feldstein.
Jesus Christ! She's going all out like she expects to win over the Jewish vote with this shindig!' He observed dryly. 'Not that she needs any help with that after last night!'
Hale was resigned to the fact that Croucher had already lost the council seat. His snide remark at the meeting the night before had made that more of a fact that a possibility, but Croucher wasn't convinced.
"I can win the seat again, Jacob!" Croucher had whined after the council meeting. "It was just a minor slip of the lip!"
"Mark my words, Croucher, that minor 'slip of the lip' will get out to the voters!" Hale cautioned him.
"That broad won't use it against me! She'll lose face with the community if she does!"
"Are you blind?" Hale asked incredulously. "She won't have to use it! There was enough press around to write up your jeer at her. Even if they don't mention it, the voters that were present will talk about it! The word will get out!"
"I'm not giving up this seat!" Croucher insisted. "Not until after the primary!"
"Suit yourself," Hale shrugged. "You're running without my support this time!"
Croucher had looked at him in shock. "Are you serious?"
"Like a heart attack. I intend to win the mayor's seat. I can't do that with liabilities attached to me. That's what you've become, Croucher. A liability."
Croucher had turned away from Hale, muttering that they'd see who was the liability once the election was behind them.
Hale wasn't worried. Croucher had outlived his usefulness a long time ago. The vote that night had gone his way, proving what he already knew. He didn't need Croucher on the council to have things go his way.
'Maybe having that woman on the council will make things interesting!' Hale mused to himself. 'There's no joy in an easy victory. With her on the council, I'll get plenty of enjoyment out of beating her down time after time!'
His heart rate picked up a bit when he saw her framed in the doorway between the back area of her business and the customer area. There were a few members of SAMCRO present, including her husband.
'Guess I might as well get this over with!' Hale sighed inwardly, opening the driver's side door and stepping out of his car.
Kozik and Ima walked on into the customer area to join the others. Alex stood behind his woman, allowing her to lean against him for support. "Go easy on 'im, baby," Alex crooned in her ear. "Piney doesn't mean any harm."
"I know, love," she replied, "but this is gonna be a difficult night, and I don't want it made any harder by an improper word or look!"
She felt his hard erection against her rear end and decided to teach him a lesson. 'There's a time and a place for things, and this isn't the time for his libido to go uncontrolled!' She thought in amusement.
Without warning, she limped away from him to the customer area where the chairs had been rearranged for the evening. Her sudden separation from him caused Alex to make a hasty retreat behind the counter so no one would notice and/or comment on the bulge in his crotch. 'Dammit! I wish she'd warn me when she does shit like that!' He fumed.
She nodded in appreciation to CJ and Adrian over the arrangement of baked goods, raising an inquiring eyebrow at the array of baked goods offered on the 'Kosher' table.
"Pete did some internet research after you left," Adrian explained. "We made some baked goods with water instead of dairy products."
"And I learned about the tradition of lighting a candle to honor the deceased, which is why that electric candle is on the table next to Lumpy's portrait," Pete added.
"Plus, we're not supposed to play music during this gathering," CJ offered. "That's why the stereo isn't turned on."
"That's sweet of all y'all. Thank you," she replied. "I've said it before; all y'all are the best employees a business owner could ask for!"
She passed out the fabric pieces she'd attached gold colored safety pins to. "Go ahead and put these on before our guests arrive," she added, attaching hers to her top.
Cat gingerly lowered herself into one of the wing back chairs. It stood a little higher than the sofa and some of the other chairs. She indicated that everyone should also sit. "Are y'all comin', love?"
"In a minute. Gonna fix ya somethin' to drink!" He called. "Watcha want?"
Cat stifled a knowing grin, though her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Strawberry tea, two packets of sugar substitute, the blue package," she replied.
"Sorry, Cat. Didn't mean to take the Lord's name in vain," Piney stated. "Damn cap they made us wear at the funeral was damn itchy!"
"I know, darlin'," she replied. "That's not my concern. It's been my experience that funerals tend to bring out people's emotions. A gathering like this can do the same thing."
"You're thinking that the guys might take exception to certain people coming here," Ima supplied.
"Exactly."
"Like who?" Piney challenged the women.
"Darby, for one. I know he's as racist as they come, but he might want to show his respect to Lumpy by comin' here."
"No one picked on him at the funeral," Phil pointed out.
"And I was relieved by that," Cat replied. "There's also a possibility that Chief Unser might show up. I know he's not one of Tig's favorite people -"
"With fuckin' good reason!" Alex growled from the counter where he was watching CJ prepare Cat's tea.
The employee had taken pity on the biker's lack of expertise at tea making and was enjoying Alex's obvious discomfort. "You say one word about my 'situation', kid, and you'll live to regret it!"He muttered darkly.
"I won't say a word, Mr. Tig!" CJ murmured back behind the protection of the massive cappuccino machine. 'Won't keep me from thinking a few, though!'
"I understand that, love. What I said back at the house goes here. This is neutral territory, you got dat?"
Alex looked across the customer area to the front window, frowning at the sight of Jacob Hale approaching the door. "Looks like you'd better tell yourself that, baby."
Cat followed his gaze and sighed inwardly as Jacob Hale opened the door and strode across the threshold.
Jax sat dejectedly in the cheap metal chair of the open air mall. He stared out into space, not noticing the shoppers strolling past him.
He mentally reviewed the events of the last few minutes, when Abel had been so close to him he could've reached out and taken him from the arms of the woman carrying Abel.
'I wanted to snatch him out of that woman's arms, run away, and get lost in the crowd! What stopped me?' He berated himself. 'It's not like I couldn't have taken a cab back to Ashby Alley and returned for the bike later!"
For some reason, he'd resisted that urge, allowing the Petries - the couple who'd shelled out thousands of dollars to adopt Abel - to continue unhindered past him. He'd exchanged the briefest of glances with the couple as they walked by him towards the mall's exit.
Jax watched as his son was carried further away from him. He kept hoping Abel would cry or reach out for him. If he'd given any sign of recognition - of wanting his father - Jax would've run up behind the Petries and taken his child. But Abel only looked curiously at him. It was the same expression he'd turned on all the people and bright colors in the mall. He made no sign that he recognized or missed his birth father.
That hurt Jax's heart. 'He doesn't even know me any more!' Jax cried inwardly. 'It's only been a few days, but he's forgotten all about me!'
The nuns at the orphanage had been unwilling to tell him where he could find Abel's adoptive parents when he'd first confronted them. Opie had figured out that Father Ashby knew Abel had been adopted when he told Jax where to find the orphanage. Jax had been prepared to ride back to Belfast to punish the priest for the lie when Gemma faked a heart problem and used the confusion to take the orphanage's only guard's gun from him. Gemma had grabbed a baby and put the gun to the infant's head, threatening to resort to the wisdom of King Solomon if the cheif nun didn't give up the intel.
The nun had turned over the file on Abel's adoption, which gave the name and pictures of the couple. The nun also provided the name of the hotel. After they exited the orphanage, Jax instructed Opie and Gemma to go back to the SAMBEL clubhouse. 'After that stunt she pulled inside, there's no tellin' what she'll do when she sees Abel with those people!'
"I want to go with you to retrieve my grandson!" Gemma insisted.
"Mom, I don't know what I'm goin' to find at that hotel! We can't all go in like a bunch of commandos! That would have the local police on us before we could draw breath!"
When Gemma opened her mouth to protest, Jax hastily added, "I need you to do this my way, Mom! Don't fight me on this!"
"He's right, Gemma," Opie added quietly. "If we show up as a group, it'll alarm the Petries. They'll call the local police and we'll never get Abel back."
Gemma had reluctantly agreed to go back to the SAMBEL clubhouse and wait for Jax to return. "Bring him back," she reminded her son.
"Go with her," Jax ordered Opie. "Make sure she doesn't knock the driver out!"
"Very funny!" Gemma retorted, climbing into the front seat of the club's van. Luther, the SAMBEL member who'd agreed to drive, gazed worriedly at Gemma.
"Don't worry, I won't try to knock you out," Gemma assured him. "This time."
He'd followed the couple from the Europa hotel, where they were staying during the adoption 'settling in' period to the mall, and followed the couple at a distance as they wandered through the mall. He kept his son in sight and carefully watched the Petries interaction with his son. As he gazed longingly at his child, he watched every kiss and touch the Petries bestowed on Abel. They hadn't had him very long, but it was obvious to Jax that they loved the little boy as much as he did.
Father Ashby's comment that JT never wanted the patch for his sons came back to him. What would his life have been like had he not grown up in the shadow of the MC?
A picture of Gemma and JT and his long dead brother Thomas came focused in his mind's eye. JT wouldn't have died nor ever made a second family in Belfast. The garage would've been their main source of income. Perhaps Thomas would still have died of the congenital heart condition, and perhaps not. The Tellers would've had a normal family life, free of fear of retribution from rival gangs and the long arm of the law. No guns, no violence. Tara wouldn't have felt it necessary to flee to Chicago, and would've stayed near Charming to go to college. He would've eventually settled down with her and raised his own family while working at the garage, which would've been called 'Teller and Sons'.
Jax shook his head, relegating the picture of what might have been to a far corner of his mind. 'That was never going to be my life. JT betrayed Mom, made a 2nd family here while Thomas was sick. Maybe my dad was right about getting us out of guns. He's dead, and what he wanted for me and Thomas died with him.'
Jax sighed and sat up straight in his chair. He'd come to a very hard and painful decision. 'The Petries can give Abel the life I can't give him. One where he doesn't have to wonder when his old man is gettin' out of jail, or if I'm comin' home at the end of the day. I grew up wantin' the cut and the bike, but is that what Abel will want? He's got a chance I never had.'
He knew Gemma was going to be mad when she learned he'd not retrieved Abel. She would just have to get used to it. Just as he'd have to get used to living with the ache from leaving his son behind.
Cat sighed tiredly and stood up as Hale approached her. She held up her hand in a signal for Alex to remain behind the counter. "Mr. Hale," she stated flatly.
"Mrs. Trager," he acknowledged just as enthusiastically.
"He's gotta lot of nerve!" Piney mumbled under his breath, glaring at the real estate titan.
Cat frowned at the founding member and shook her head, then motioned with her hand towards the refreshment table. "I'm afraid that there's not a lot to offer at the moment, but please help yourself," she added a little more graciously.
"That won't be necessary. I came here to talk with you about Lumpy's business," Hale countered.
"You son of a -" Piney growled, starting to get up from his chair. He intended to throw Hale out on his rear end.
"All y'all remember what I said earlier!" Cat growled, limping over to Piney and laying her hand on his shoulder, forcing him back in his seat. "This is not how we're goin' to honor Lumpy!" She fixed her resolute glare on everyone in the room before turning her attention back to Hale.
"This isn't really the time or place to be discussin' that, Mr. Hale. If you want to call me tomorrow, we'll talk then," she added quietly. "Y'all are welcome to stay if you want to honor Lumpy's memory."
Alex ignored his wife's signal to stay behind the counter. He silently moved forward to stand just behind her. He crossed his arms over his chest and locked eyes with Hale. His expression informed the land baron he would happily throw him out on his ear the minute his wife gave him the word.
Hale shuddered inwardly at the vehemence in Trager's angry gaze. 'The club knows the Mayans had nothing to do with Lumpy's death, but do they know I was behind it?' He glanced from Trager to his wife, who was patiently waiting for him to accept her invitation. 'No, she'd never be able to keep them from attacking me if they knew!' Hale shook his head and focused solely on his nemesis. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Trager. I've been asked to deliver a message to you, and it can't wait."
"Make it wait!" Tig snarled, uncrossing his arms and moving to step past his wife. "My woman said this isn't the time!"
Cat turned and laid her hand on his chest, placing her injured body between the two men. "Please, Tig!" She whispered to him. Her voice was quiet so that only he could hear, and he had to bend close to her to do so. "Don't do this! Not now!"
Tig glared over her head at Hale, then looked down at his wife's pleading expression. 'How can she be nice to him when she knows what he did?'
"I know how y'all feel, love. I feel the same way," she murmured softly, her thumb lightly caressed his chest where her hand rested. No one could see the movement, but he felt the heat of her touch through his shirt and gave in. He snorted and placed his hand over hers for a moment. "A'right, baby," he sighed resignedly.
Cat smiled at him before turning back to confront Hale. Her expression moved from soft to hard in an instant. "If it's that important to y'all, then it's best that we go into my office," she stated, gesturing towards the back. "I'll come with," Alex growled.
"No, love. Y'all need to stay here," she replied. "I'll handle this and fill y'all in later."
"Why don't we just step outside?" Hale asked in a panicky voice. Going to the office for a private chat had not been in Zobelle's instructions! He had to convince her to go outside where people would be sure to see them talking!
Cat's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs at Hale's suggestion. She glanced at Tig, who was glaring at Hale. "Why in the fuck would she wanna go outside with you?" He growled menacingly.
"W - well, you were s - so concerned about her safety! I thought that we could stand outside where you could watch her through the window!" Hale stammered quickly.
'If I believe that story, then he has swampland in Arizona for sale at a cheap price!' Cat snorted inwardly. "I have no desire to stand outside, when there's a perfectly good office in the back where a business can be discussed!" She replied acidly.
"Maybe it's not such a bad idea, baby," Alex murmured. "I can keep an eye on ya, in case he tries anything."
"I may be on the injured reserve, but I'm not out of the ballgame yet!" She retorted.
Kozik barked a laugh, which turned into a cough when Ima elbowed him in the side. "Behave yourself!" She hissed in his ear.
Hale gestured towards the front door, which made Cat more suspicious. "Why is he procrastinatin' like this all of a sudden?" She murmured to herself. "Mr. Hale," she continued in a louder voice, "If what you have to say is so damn important that it can't wait, then you'd best haul ass into the office, otherwise, we talk business tomorrow. It's your call."
Hale was growing panicky again. Zobelle wanted the news about the renovations delivered that night, not the following day. He decided that half a loaf was better than a goose egg, and scurried across the customer area to follow Cat into the office.
Alex gazed after her, wanting to follow despite her protest. "I've got a bad feelin' about this!"
"Hale may be an asshole, but he won't dare try anything with us nearby!" Piney assured him.
"Miss Cat's got a monitoring device set up in the office, anyway," Pete volunteered. We won't be able to watch it out here, but if he tries anything, we'll have proof to give the police!"
That eased Alex's concerns a little. He'd be much happier when Hale was out of his wife's office and out of their hair.
Cat switched on the light to the office and lowered herself into her chair. Hale started to close the door but she held up her hand. "I'd rather leave the door open, if you don't mind."
"I do mind," he grated. "What I have to say is for your ears only."
"And you heard me tell Tig to stay put," she countered, indicating the chair beside the desk.
"You really think he'll do that?" Hale laughed mockingly.
"I know he will!" Cat snorted. "This is my business, and my word is law. That means the door stays open or this conversation is over. I'm sure Tig and Piney would be happy to show y'all out!" She pointed at the security monitor that showed Tig and the others watching the door to the back area.
'Now where did Chuckie go? He was standin' with Alex a minute ago!' She pushed the chair back from the desk so that Hale would have to pass in front of her to sit down.
"You drive a hard bargain, lady." Hale muttered, settling into the chair next to her desk.
"I'd suggest you remember that in the future. This won't be the last time we'll butt heads," she retorted. "Now, what in Hell is so all fired important that can't wait until tomorrow?"
David Murphy was past worried and entering the land of concern about his wife. It wasn't like Margaret not to call if she was going to be later than she'd expected.
She'd called earlier that evening to let him know she'd be late getting home because she was taking a friend to the next county for a medical procedure that couldn't be done at the hospital. "I shouldn't be too late, but don't keep supper waiting for me," she'd informed him. "We'll pick up something on the way home."
"Be sure to call if you're going to be later than you expect," he reminded her.
"I will," she promised. "Love you. Hugs to the kids."
"Love you too."
That conversation had occurred several hours ago. It was past midnight, and Margaret hadn't called and she wasn't home. David had tried several times to reach her, but his calls kept going straight to voice mail.
He wasn't one to get overly concerned about his wife. He knew she could fix a flat tire without needing to call a motor club or garage to do it for her. If the car had broken down for another reason, she'd have called him.
Once the late night news was over, Murphy couldn't continue to ignore the nagging worry. He tried the cell phone again with the same result. 'OK, she wouldn't have forgotten to turn it back on after the procedure was done! Something's wrong!"
He dialed 911 and informed the CPD dispatcher of his concern.
"I understand that you're worried, Mr. Murphy. Legally, we can't file a missing person report until she's been missing for a full day," the dispatcher informed him.
"Is there anything else you can do in the meantime?" He insisted.
"I can ask the patrols to keep an eye out for her car, in case it's disabled, but that's just within Charming city limits," she replied.
"Hell, I can go out and search the city if that's all you can do!" He huffed.
"Unfortunately, sir, it's all I can offer right now," the dispatcher stated firmly but sympathetically. "I know it's difficult, but you need to stay there in case she calls. Maybe her cell lost power. Batteries do that pretty quickly nowadays."
The dispatcher had a point. Margaret had a smart phone, and it seemed to eat power like Pac Man after the blue ghosts. "OK. You're right. Thanks for your help."
He took a little comfort in the fact that CPD patrols would keep an eye out for the station wagon. That was more than most law enforcement agencies would do.
'I'm glad SJSD didn't take over right away!' He mused to himself. 'They'd never agree to doing anything before the waiting period was over! I hope Hale's proud of himself for that move!'
Murphy had been stunned by the lead story on Channel 2. How Jacob Hale had managed to convince the city council to vote against CPD was beyond him. He wasn't a politician, just an accountant. Try as he might, the situation with the police department just didn't add up to him.
That didn't matter to him. The safety and well being of his wife was more important than city politics. All he wanted was for his wife to walk through the door.
"Please come home, Margaret!"
As Hale followed Cat past the door that separated the back from the customer area, Tig motioned Chuckie to come over to him.
"Want me to go listen in?" Chuckie inquired.
"Absolutely. I don't trust that asshat with my woman. If she needs help, come get me," he instructed. "Get movin' before they get in the office. She can monitor the front area from there!"
"I accept that!" Chuckie called over his shoulder as he scampered through the doorway. He quietly walked towards the office as Hale entered it. Chuckie stood close to the open office door. He could hear perfectly, and grinned when he heard his former employer read the riot act to the land baron. 'Good for you, Lady Cat!' He cheered inwardly.
He listened closely, frowning at the news Hale imparted to her. He knew that the club had learned from Darby that Hale was behind the Liberty Street property buy outs, and likely hired the Hispanic that had killed Lumpy. 'Why is he talking like he had no part in it?' Chuckie wondered to himself.
Cat had the same question running through her mind, but she kept her expression from mirroring her thoughts. "That's nice that the buyers have decided against continuin' to acquire Lumpy's gym, but why did they tell y'all to come to me?"
'Shit! Zobelle didn't prepare me for this!' Hale shifted in his chair, trying to come up with an answer. "Well, er, it's because they believed you'd know who would be handling his affairs," he stated lamely. "After all, you are hosting this event tonight."
Cat innocently placed her middle finger against the bridge of her glasses to push them back up her nose. "I suppose so, but it seems to me this could've waited a couple for days. Once the will is probated or announced, they could go straight to whoever is in charge of the estate."
'So she doesn't know about the will yet,' Hale mused. 'Wonder how Zobelle knew about it?' He stared around the room, glancing at the surveillance monitor before returning his gaze to his hostess. "The - er- the investors felt this matter needed to be dealt with as quickly as possible," Hale explained.
'The boy wouldn't last long in a poker game; he doesn't bluff very well.' She gazed intently at Hale. The shaded insert behind her glasses unnerved him. "Hmmm. Given the circumstances behind Lumpy's death, I can see why they would feel that way. However, they seem to making some major assumptions here. What if it turns out that I'm not the person handling the estate?"
Hale coughed as if something had gone down the wrong pipe. "Well, I would hope you would pass this information along to the person assigned to the task!" He sputtered.
"And have them get in contact with you, I suppose?" She retorted dryly.
"The buyers would prefer to work through me," Hale explained. He wiped his hand over his upper lip to find a slight hint of moisture had built up there. He removed a handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiped his upper lip and his finger dry.
"I'm wonder why I'm not surprised," Cat drawled. "I'll be sure to have the person assigned to that position contact as soon as I know somethin'," she added.
'Sounds like their conversation is ending!' Chuckie thought worriedly. 'Where can I go that I won't be seen on the camera?' Most of the back area was dark, with the exception of the kitchen and the office. Chuckie kept to the wall and worked his way quietly to the doorway leading to the customer area. He took a deep breath, straightened up, and passed nonchalantly through the opening.
"Everything OK in there?" Tig asked sharply. "Yeah. They'll be out in a second or two; they were winding up the conversation," he reported.
"What was the big deal?"
Chuckie glanced over his shoulder then back at Tig. "I think I'd rather have Lady Cat tell you," he replied. "But I will say that she really played Hale along. He has no idea that she knows he was behind Lumpy's murder!"
Tig smiled proudly. "That's my girl!"
Chuckie glanced over his shoulder again and hissed, "They're comin' out!" He scampered to sit down next to Piney, settling in the chair just as Hale's frame appeared in the door way.
Cat limped behind the real estate developer. "You're welcome to stay awhile to remember Lumpy," she invited. "The Rabbi and other guests should arrive any time."
"No thank you," Hale replied quickly, turning around to face her. "I've accomplished what I needed to do. My condolences." He hastened towards the front door and the promise of freedom without looking back, nearly running down the Rabbi and his wife.
"Excuse me," Hale murmured.
"Aren't you staying, Jacob?" Rabbi Lichtenstein inquired.
"No I just came to offer my condolences. I can't stay. Nice to see you again, Rabbi," he stated while slipping past the Jewish cleric and his wife. Once on the sidewalk, Hale drew a deep breath of relief and ran across the street to the safety of his car. He slammed the door, locked it, started the engine, and peeled away from the vicinity of the coffeehouse.
"That one is in a big hurry to get nowhere," the Rabbi observed dryly.
"Meh!" His wife, Jacqueline, shrugged. "That one is probably up to no good! We're better off without him here."
"Seems like they're not members of the Jacob Hale Appreciation Society!" Cat murmured to Alex.
"What went on in there, baby?" Alex whispered in her ear.
"I'll tell y'all later." Alex frowned at her in response.
"Time and place for everythin', love. Right now, this isn't the time or place to talk about it. We have guests," she reminded him gently. She turned and limped to greet the Rabbi and his wife. "I'm so glad you could come, Rabbi!"
"It's nice of you to do this for Lumpy," the Rabbi countered, running his gaze over the customer area. "For a Gentile, you've done a good job!" He pointed to the electric candle and the separate food tables.
Alex turned red in the face at the Rabbi's comment. 'Sounded like a backhanded compliment to me!'
Before he could offer a protest on her behalf, Cat replied, "The internet can teach a person a lot about things like this; I wanted to make sure both Jews and Gentiles would be accommodated."
"You've done well, Mrs. Trager," Jacqueline assured her.
"Please, no need to be formal. Just call me Cat," she replied with a welcoming smile. She glanced at the two bowls the couple carried and added, "Would you like to put those on the table? They must be makin' your arms tired."
"They do get a little heavy," the Rabbi acknowledged. "Which is the 'Kosher' table?"
"Over here!" Pete announced, pointing to the table next to him. "May I make you some coffee or tea?"
The Rabbi and his wife carried their bowls to the table. "Tea would be wonderful!" he replied. "One of these is non - 'Kosher', by the way."
"Then you'll want to place it on the other table," Pete explained. "Do you have a flavor preference for your tea?"
"Do you have cinnamon tea?" Jacqueline inquired.
"Definitely. And for you, Rabbi?"
"Decaf coffee. Two sugars, no cream."
"Coming right up." Pete nodded to CJ, who began to brew the tea.
Pete walked over to Cat, carrying a large styrofoam cup. "Here's your tea, Miss Cat. I kept it warm for you," he announced.
Cat was sitting in the wing backed chair she'd abandoned to talk with Hale. It was easier for her to get up and sit down when she needed to move. Alex sat on the arm of the chair and slid his arm along the back, allowing his hand to rest on her shoulder.
The door opened again to admit Ernest Darby. Alex's hand tightened slightly on his wife's shoulder, then relaxed again.
"Mr. Darby! Welcome!" Cat started to get up to greet the newcomer.
Alex's hand tightened again to keep her seated. "No one expects ya to play hostess all night, baby!" He murmured. "That's why ya asked Ima to help ya out!" He glanced across to the porn actress.
Ima nodded slightly and rose fluidly from her seat, gliding across the floor to Darby's side. She slid her hand into the crook of his arm and led him to the small group. "I think you know almost everyone here, except for the Rabbi and his wife," she stated brightly.
Cat noticed with relief that Darby's shirt covered his swastika tattoo. 'Thank goodness! Don't need to get any of the Jewish contingent upset this early in!'
The Rabbi noted the burns on Darby's face and his bandaged hands. "Oye! That must hurt!"
"A bit," Darby acknowledged.
"And you knew Ibrahim well?" The Rabbi inquired. Darby frowned for a moment. He didn't recognize the name the cleric used for his former mentor.
"Lumpy," Cat mouthed to him.
"Oh, yeah. He taught me to box when I was a kid. We kinda drifted apart, though," Darby acknowledged.
"Ah! That's too bad. These things happen in life. But it's good that you've come to honor him," Rabbi Lichtenstein replied. He knew all about Darby's affiliation with the Nords, but was willing to overlook it under the circumstances.
"Mr. Darby, go ahead and help yourself to some food if you're hungry. We're only servin' coffee, tea, and juice drinks tonight," Cat offered, pointing to the tables.
"Thanks. I'll do that," Darby sighed in obvious relief and headed for the snacks.
More guests began coming into the coffeehouse. Ima greeted each newcomer and accepted their offerings of food, which she would hand to CJ or Pete to take to the appropriate table.
Darby returned to the group with a plate and a cup of coffee. He settled into a chair next to Chuckie, who nodded pleasantly at him. "Do I know you?" Darby murmured.
"We've met before. It's been awhile," Chuckie acknowledged. He wasn't about to remind the man that he'd saved the thug's life the night he'd helped AJ Weston torch Caracara. 'Like Lady Cat said, there's a time and place for certain conversations. This is definitely not the place!'
"I believe that Ibrahim - Lumpy as you folks knew him - helped set a lot of young people on a better path," Jacqueline observed. "He loved boxing, and loved teaching."
"Yes ma'am," Darby replied.
"Definitely taught me a few things, and I thought the Marines had taught me a lot!" Alex added.
"He was a good friend, always had time to talk," Piney stated.
Many of the visitors that passed through the doors were familiar to Cat and the Sons, though a few were some were strangers to them. Rabbi Lichtenstein helped Ima with greeting new arrivals and introducing the members of the Jewish community that they'd not met before.
The Jewish guests uttered the traditional Hebrew condolences to Tig, Cat, Ima, and Kozik. This initially made the bikers self conscious. They weren't used to having people approach them without wanting to fight them. Not knowing Hebrew was an additional hindrance.
Tig and Kozik overcame this discomfort with the quiet help of their women. Ima and Cat graciously accepted the heartfelt words from the Jewish guests before introducing their men and Piney as long time friends of Lumpy's. "These men are the closest Mr. Feldstein had to family in this town," the women explained.
Each member of the Jewish community repeated the traditional condolence in English to the men. The trio murmured appreciative thanks for the guests' words. Cat or Ima would then invite the Jewish visitors to partake of the refreshments.
"Relax love," Cat remarked to Alex after the first such encounter. "You handled that just right."
"I know," he whispered in her ear. "It's just a little overwhelming."
"Think how they feel, coming in contact with a real, live outlaw!" She smirked.
"Hmm. Didn't think about it that way," He squeezed the back of her neck and added, "Ya don't have to be so damn smug about it!"
"Yes I do!" She retorted.
"You'll pay for that, woman!" He growled.
"Promises, promises!" She laughed. "Now behave yourself!"
'It's gonna be a long fuckin' night!' He fumed inwardly. He could tell that his wife was laughing inwardly at his predicament. 'Laugh on, woman! He who laughs last, laughs best!'
The evening continued in a congenial fashion. Guests continued to arrive and visit with the group, reminiscing about Lumpy's life in Charming. The Sons warmed up to talking about Lumpy so that the room filled with laughter and stories about their friend.
Cat experienced a brief moment of apprehension when Wayne Unser walked in. She glanced up at Alex, who shrugged in reply to her unspoken question. He squeezed her neck reassuringly so that she relaxed as the police chief walked up to them.
"Can a soon to be unemployed top cop join you?" Unser grumbled.
"I don't know about that, but my friend Wayne is welcome to cop a squat," Cat replied, gesturing to a vacant chair next to her. "Go help yourself to some food if you're hungry."
"I'll do that," he replied gratefully. He'd almost talked himself into not coming to the wake out of concern for how he'd be treated. 'I should've known Cat wouldn't hold a grudge!'
He helped himself to some of the food, accepted a fresh cup of coffee from CJ, then settled into the chair Cat had indicated. "How are you feeling, honey?" He asked, taking a sip of the whiskey blend.
"A little tired, but I'm OK," she admitted. "I'm sorry about the way the vote turned out, Wayne."
He shrugged and replied, "Maybe it's a good thing, Cat. The work's been tiring me out, and the politicking hasn't helped."
"You should know that Cat spoke out on CPD's behalf," Elliot Oswald announced from his own seat.
"So did you!" She retorted, embarrassed at being singled out. "Not that it made any difference."
"It made a difference," Oswald remarked. "Even though the vote was unanimous, Hale had to work for that win, it didn't come as easily as he expected. You made 'em think, Cat."
"I accept that!" Chuckie added.
Alex glared at the club mascot. "How do you know?" "I read about it," Chuckie replied. "The paper quoted both of them in depth."
"That's nice to know, but we can talk about that later," Cat announced. "This really isn't - "
"- the time or place for this conversation!" Alex, Kozik, Piney, and Ima chorused.
"Shows all y'all were listenin'!" She retorted.
Ally Lowen walked into the coffeehouse as the 'shiva' was winding down. She had her briefcase with her, which she set beside a chair while she helped herself to refreshments.
Many of the guests had already left, leaving the Rabbi and his wife with Cat and the others. The couple approached the group in order to take their leave.
Cat started to stand up so she could speak with the cleric, though she moved a bit stiffly. Despite getting up a few times to greet the people she knew well, her injuries were still tender and her joints stiff. Alex rose from the arm of her chair and offered his arm to her, allowing his wife to use it as an anchor. "Ya gonna be a'right, baby?"
She nodded, keeping her attention on the Rabbi.
"I just wanted to thank you for all the effort you put forth on this 'shiva', Mrs. Trager," the Rabbi stated. "It's normally our job to make the bereaved comfortable; you went out of your way to see to our comfort."
"Thank you for supportin' this, Rabbi. I know it wasn't traditional -"
The Rabbi raised his hand to stop her protests. "It's a true 'mitzvah'. Just like the number of times you fixed Sabbath supper for Ibrahim."
"You knew about that?" She asked incredulously.
"And about having a seder supper for Passover for him. You made him feel like family," the Rabbi informed her.
"He was family to Tig, which made him family to me. A friend back in Indiana once told me a person could have two types of family, the one you're born into and the one you choose."
"Ibrahim truly considered you like a daughter to him. I can see why," Rabbi Lichtenstein assured her. "He was very fond of your husband. Ibrahim was blessed to have friends like all of you. Would anyone be offended if I offered a quick prayer?"
"Of course not, Rabbi," Cat assured him. The Rabbi, his wife, and Cat bowed their heads. The group around them fell silent. Some bowed their heads in anticipation. The Rabbi offered a prayer known as the 'Mourner's Kaddish', which he uttered first in Hebrew, and then in English. Cat and several of the others replied with a soft "Amen" at the end of the prayer. The three Sons remained respectfully silent.
"Peace be with you, and may your God comfort you," Rabbi Lichtenstein stated as he and his wife left the building.
Hale had just closed his front door behind him when the cell phone began vibrating in his pocket. "I don't have to ask who that is!" He sighed, digging the instrument out of his pocket. "What is it now, Zobelle?"
"Do not ever answer your phone that way again!" Zobelle stated coldly. "Just because the caller ID is blocked doesn't mean I the one calling!"
"Well you're calling now, so I was right!" Hale countered testily. "Don't see what the problem is!"
"That is your problem, Jacob. You don't see the big picture and I shouldn't have to explain it to you," Zobelle retorted. "You did not follow my instructions when you met with Cat Trager."
"Hey, she's the one who decided where to talk. I couldn't necessarily drag her out doors. Not with those neanderthals from the club present!" Hale explained.
"I suppose not. You were also supposed to make it appear that you were on friendlier terms with her, instead of running off with your tail tucked between your legs like a whipped cur," Zobelle observed.
"The Rabbi and his wife saw me, that should be enough!"
Zobelle sighed again, inwardly praying for patience in dealing with the land baron. "Perhaps. And perhaps I should consider doing business with someone who will show more appreciation for my assistance and less resistance."
Panic flared in Hale's chest. He couldn't lose Zobelle's backing now! What with the Liberty Street project close to fruition and his future plans once he was in the mayor's office! He had to make amends and he had to make them quick.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Zobelle. It's been a long day," Hale stated softly. "Of course I appreciate your assistance. I - I forgot to stay around that coffeehouse for awhile. I won't let you down again, I promise!"
"That's more like it, Jacob," Zobelle replied approvingly. "Your error is not fatal. Liberty Street is ready to be renovated. The gym will lull SAMCRO and Mrs. Trager into complacency. There will be other opportunities, we will just adjust and adapt from this and go forward. Sleep well, Jacob."
The line went dead in his ear. Hale pocketed the cell phone, walked into his den, and poured a large tumbler of bourbon. He downed it in one swallow, nearly choking on the strength of the liquor. He poured more and drank it down, then another. He wanted to get thoroughly drunk so he could forget about the deal he made with the devil Zobelle for a few hours.
Cat turned to look at the refreshment table. There was still a lot of food left over, more than she and Alex would be able to eat, despite her husband's appetite.
"Well, I guess that about wraps it up," she remarked. "Looks like we're goin' to be eatin' leftovers for awhile, love."
"Good! The less work ya hafta do, the better I like it!" Alex announced as he approached her side, draping a protective arm around her.
"We'll never get through all this before it spoils!" She protested.
"We can take some of it back with us," Ima offered.
"Sounds like a plan to me!" Kozik grinned. "Not that I don't like your cookin', baby. Just thinkin' that the less work ya hafta do, the better I'd like it," he added hurriedly.
Cat stifled a grin of amusement and glanced at her employees. "Adrian, can you and CJ make it so? No worries about keepin' stuff separate now. We're all goyim here!"
"We're on it, Miss Cat!"
Chuckie got up and helped his former co - workers carry the leftovers to the kitchen. He and Adrian worked on dividing the leftovers and covering all the dishes with plastic wrap. CJ and Pete started cleaning up the front area. Piney glanced at the prospects and frowned to find that Miles was sound asleep and snoring, his head hanging over the back of the sofa he and Phil occupied.
"Prospects!" His voice rumbled like the God of Thunder's. "Make yourselves useful as well as ornamental and help clean up!"
"Right!" Phil acknowledged, elbowing Miles awake. The pair headed into the back area to see what needed to be done. Adrian put them to work carrying full garbage bags to the dumpster.
Cat and her companions were the only ones left in the coffeehouse. Unser and Darby had left some time earlier in the evening. Oswald had departed just before Ally Lowen showed up.
"Maybe I shouldn't have waited so long to get here!" Ally joked.
"Looks to me like ya timed it about right," Piney replied. "I know you're here to talk to the youngsters about Lumpy's will. Soon as stuff's cleaned up around here, I'll get Chuckie and the prospects on outta here."
"I'll ride with my girl," Kozik replied. "She'll drop me at the clubhouse so I can get my bike."
"Works for me, Junior," Piney grinned. Pete walked out with a box full of leftovers for Ima and Kozik. "Miss Ima, I'll take this out to your car for you if you want," he announced.
Ima flushed at being addressed as 'Miss', but smiled brightly at Pete and handed him the keys. "It's the white Toyota out in the driveway at Cat and Tig's. You really don't mind?"
"Not at all, Miss Ima. I'll bring the keys back in a minute," Pete assured her.
"Get used to being talked to like that here, baby," Kozik assured her. "Cat's people are genuinely considerate. By the way, you did great tonight."
"She sure did!" Cat added warmly.
Ima flushed again and buried her face in Kozik's arm. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had treated her with such dignity.
Phil and Miles returned to the group, Chuckie following behind them. Phil carried a box of leftovers to take back to the clubhouse.
"Everything's all cleaned up, Miss Cat," Miles announced.
"Thanks guys. Appreciate your help," she replied.
"Then we'd better get goin', boys," Piney rumbled, hefting himself from the chair.
He stood in front of Cat, who looked up inquiringly at him. "Don't wanna give ya a swelled head, but the Rabbi was right. Ya made us all feel comfortable, and ya did right by Lumpy. He'd be proud of ya."
"That means a lot, Piney," Cat replied tiredly. "Thanks for lettin' me lean on y'all at the cemetery."
Piney gazed worriedly at her. "You've had a long and difficult day, honey. Be sure to get some rest tonight," he glared significantly at Tig as she spoke. "Don't keep her up too late."
"I know how to take care of my woman old man!" Tig bristled.
"You'd better," Piney growled warningly. "Let's go, boys," He bent to give Cat a kiss on the cheek then turned to shepherd the prospects through the back to the driveway. "C'mon, Chuckles."
"Be right there, Piney!" Chuckie called. "Just want to talk to Lady Cat for a second."
"Don't take all night about it!"
"I accept that!" Chuckie turned to Cat and added, "Maybe it's not the right way to say this, but I had a good time tonight. Wish it were for different reasons."
"I understand, darlin'. Y'all behave yourself at the clubhouse, and don't be a stranger," Cat replied, standing up again in order to give her friend a good bye hug. "Take care of yourself."
"I accept that," he assured her, returning the hug before scurrying after Piney.
Pete returned to deliver Ima's keys to her, passing Chuckie in the back area. "See you around, Chuckie!"
"I accept that, too!"
"I'll be working tomorrow afternoon, Miss Cat," Pete informed his employer. "Miss Anna's openin', and if you don't mind me saying so, we'd really rather not see you here tomorrow!"
"I'm not sure if I should be perturbed by that or not," Cat observed dryly.
"You're not," Alex informed her. "I happen to agree with him."
"We'll see," she replied. "Good night, Pete, thanks for all the hard work today."
Pete nodded and turned to leave through the front entrance. Before he left, he moved the easel with Lumpy's portrait from in front of the ATM. "Don't worry about the little lamp, Miss Cat. It doesn't use much wattage. Figured we'd leave it burning until close tomorrow night."
"Works for me, Pete. Good night."
He left through the front door and locked it after him. He walked towards his car, waving through the window at the small group still inside.
"You've got good people working for you, Cat," Ima observed.
"They are great. I probably don't tell 'em often enough."
"They know, baby," Alex assured her. She relaxed against the chair and closed her eyes. "I already shared the news about Lumpy's will with 'em, Ally."
"Well, that cuts down on what I have to do," she joked. "Getting down to brass tacks, what have you two decided to do about the gym?"
"Keep it open, same name and shit, as soon as repairs can be made," Kozik replied.
"Yeah. No changes except to make Lump's assistant the full time manager. We'll just handle the ownership stuff as we need to," Tig added.
Cat stirred and opened her eyes. "I've offered to help the guys, but I'd like you to draw up some kind of agreement between us, just to keep things legal."
"That shit ain't needed, baby!" Tig protested.
"Absolutely!" Kozik added.
"No, Cat's got a point," Ima objected. "Something like this business venture really needs to have legal guidelines of some kind."
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Ally stated. She held up her hand to prevent Tig from protesting further. "I know you trust your wife, Tig. And she trusts you. This isn't about trust. This is business, and in business, it's always good to have certain things spelled out so there's no misunderstandings later."
"Such as?" Tig queried in annoyance.
"Such as, if either you or Kozik are unable to make decisions about the gym because you're in the hospital, or away on club business. Cat needs to have legal authority to do things like sign checks for payroll and utilities, among other things."
"I get it!" Kozik cried. "Like ordering shit, or hiring or firing someone if need be. Making deposits. All that kind of shit."
"That's about the sum and substance of it. I can draw up documents that will protect yours and Tig's interests, and also give Cat -"
" - you want to include Ima in this. She's goin' to be helpin' me when necessary," Cat interjected.
Ally nodded and made notes on the legal pad she'd withdrawn from her briefcase. "OK. I'll make up the paperwork to give you two ladies the legal authority to do business when they guys can't."
"I still don't think it's necessary!" Tig grumbled.
"Well, I'll feel better if we have it, so put on your big boy drawers and deal with it!" Cat retorted.
"What if I don't wear drawers?" Alex replied suggestively.
"TMI!" Ally protested.
"Deal with it anyway, love, just like any commando would," Cat smirked.
"Ya don't let me have any fun!" He pouted. "Now what in the Hell did Hale want to talk to ya about?"
"Hale was here earlier?" Ally inquired in surprise.
"Before the wake thing started. Was real insistent on talkin' to Cat about Lumpy's place," Tig informed the lawyer.
"I'm really too tired to go into it," she yawned. "It's on the monitorin' device I have on the office computer. CJ or Adrian can pull it up for all y'all."
Alex looked closely at her face and frowned. There were dark circles visible under her glasses and her face was pale. He could see that her hands were trembling from fatigue. "We can do that, baby," he assured her, indicating to the others to head towards the office. "You just sit there and rest."
"I accept that," she sighed, closing her eyes and relaxing against the headrest. Ally got up and headed for the back area, trailed by Kozik and Ima. CJ met them at the doorway and led them to the office.
"I'll be there in a second," Alex informed him. "Go ahead and get shit set up." He stroked Cat's hair, listening to her even breathing. She'd already fallen asleep. "God damn you, woman! Ya did it again!" He murmured softly before getting up and striding into the office.
CJ had already accessed the monitoring program on the office computer. The conversation between Cat and Jacob Hale was ready to play. "I can operate the computer from here, CJ, if you want to go home," Ima offered.
"You really wouldn't mind, Miss Ima?" He asked gratefully.
"You and Adrian have put in a long day yourselves. We'll make sure the place is locked up for the night when we leave," she assured him.
"I second that," Tig informed CJ as he entered the office. "Get your ass out of here and take Adrian with ya. He's about to fall asleep standin' up."
"OK. Is Miss Cat all right?"
"She's overdone again. She's asleep out front. Don't worry. I'll take care of her," he assured the employee.
"You always do, Mr. Tig. Good night." He stood up and scampered out of the office. "C'mon, Adrian! Time to go home."
"And don't wake up Cat!" Tig growled at the departing pair.
Ima stifled a smile and turned her attention to the computer. She started the program and sat back so the others could see the entire screen. Ally was sitting next to Ima in the office chair. Kozik stood behind Ima. His hands rested on her shoulders as she sat back in the chair. Tig leaned against the door frame. He could see the computer screen from his position, and also keep an ear out for any sounds from the customer area.
The quartet watched in grim silence as the conversation between the land baron and Cat played out. Tig swelled with pride over his woman's handling of the pompous politician. 'She never let on that she knew what he'd done to Lump!'
Ima shut off the program and powered down the computer after the video went to black. The foursome remained quiet for a few moments, absorbing the impact of the video.
"I've got a really bad feelin' about this," Tig stated at last.
"So do I. How in the Hell did Hale know about the will?" Ima added.
"We have a leak in our office, but proving it to the partners is going to be difficult," the lawyer admitted.
"That explains how Hale knew about the will, and why he was so damn impatient to talk to Cat tonight. It doesn't explain why, though," Tig observed. "Interestin' that he's hidin' behind the investors when we know he was behind the leveraged buyouts."
"Really?"
Tig briefed the lawyer on what Darby had told them in the hospital chapel. "We took that intel to Unser, but he wasn't willin' to act on it. Said the word of a bunch of felons over the future mayor wouldn't carry much weight."
"He was right, unfortunately," Ally observed. "I wouldn't want to rely solely on Darby's testimony in court. Not without solid proof to back it up."
"Knowing Wayne the way I do, he wouldn't have just let the information lie around," Cat remarked from behind her husband. "He's likely done his own investigating to try to find hard evidence against Hale."
"What the fuck are ya doin' up?" Alex snarled angrily.
"What does it look like?" She replied quietly. "Woke up to use the necessary and heard all y'all talkin'. Figured I'd join the conversation."
"Get your ass back in the front where ya can be comfortable!" He ordered in frustration.
"Why don't we all go back into the customer area?" Ally offered in hopes of keeping the peace.
"I already turned the lights out in front," Cat explained, holding out the lawyer's briefcase to her. "There's a break room we can use instead of this cramped office."
"Then move your ass in there!" Tig growled. "Now!"
Cat snorted at him and led the way to the break room. She allowed Alex to help her sit on the sofa and didn't protest when he sat down next to her. Ally, Kozik, and Ima settled into chairs near them.
"Are y'all happy now?" Cat asked Alex.
"I'll be happier when I get ya home!" He growled. He wasn't in a teasing, suggestive mood now. He was concerned and frustrated that his woman wasn't willing to take better care of herself.
"I wonder who these 'business partners' of Hale's are?" Ima asked.
"At least they're not gonna try to buy the buildin' from us!" Kozik stated. "And they wanna pay for the exterior renovations!"
"Cat did a good job of not letting Hale know that she already knew about Lumpy's will," Ally mused. "Hale didn't do a very convincing job of covering how he knew about the will."
"It's like he was acting from a poorly written script," Ima added. "If he'd been given all the information about the will ahead of time, wouldn't he have been able to come up with a better cover when Cat questioned him?"
"You'd think so," Ally agreed.
"Maybe he got it from someone other than the leak," Alex pondered.
"It's possible, love. It also makes me wonder who's holdin' his strings." Cat remarked.
Ally stifled a yawn, picked up her briefcase, and stood up. "On that note, I'm going to say 'goodnight'," she stated. "Call me if you have any questions, Cat."
"I'll see ya out, Ally," Tig offered, digging his keys out of his pocket. He walked the lawyer out to the front area and watched from the door as she made her way safely to her car. He locked the front door with his own key and then returned to the break room. "Don't leave yet, we're not done."
Cat glanced inquiringly at her husband. "What do y'all mean, we're not done, love?"
"Though I'm worried about Hale's intel on us, it's not our problem right now," Alex replied. "We've got a bigger problem to contend with."
"I've got a bad feelin' about this!" Cat sighed wearily.
