Lieutenant Sheriff Althea Jarry breathed deeply when her squad car pulled to a stop in front of the Charming candy shop. The smell of freshly cooked Barbeque wafted in the air and she pondered the subtle differences of life. Just a block away people were celebrating, enjoying the beautiful summer day. Laughing, loving, having fun. She could see the mood was much more somber in the candy shop.

Samcro was typically a rowdy bunch of guys. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen them all together when there wasn't the hint of mischief and laughter in the air. Today through the window of the shop she could only see hanging heads and silent stares off into empty space.

She climbed out of her car and slammed her door behind her, adjusting her gun belt and steeling her nerves as she did. A few short hours earlier she'd told Philip Telford that she didn't want to see him anymore. That she wanted nothing else to do with him or the club. He'd shrugged as if the words hadn't affected him and seeing that had hurt her someplace deep down. She'd wanted him to yell and scream, to fight for her. But she knew Chibs wasn't that sort of man. He didn't respond to threats or anger, they got along best when she was pushing all her doubts and insecurities aside and was simply there for him, loving him.

Chibs was who she looked for when she finally pushed through the door of the shop. The ringing bell on the door broke a deathly silence. All eyes turned to her when she stepped into the room and suddenly she felt as if she were on stage with the entire world watching. She'd always hated being the center of attention but somehow this was worse. The blank stares and somber tone told her that the boys, as usual, had been expecting her. They always seemed to know what she was going to say long before she showed up to actually say it. It grated on her nerves but she'd grown tired of trying to figure out the inner workings or motivations of the MC. To make sense of it all she'd simply closed her mind off to that part of the job. Questions deserved answers so she dealt with things by not having any questions. It didn't always work but she could live with what she had.

"Sheriff," Chibs said with his thick Irish accent. His voice was stiff and emotionless, closed off. A stark reminder of how they'd left things earlier in the day. Her first instinct was to be angry at him. Angry because even now when something terrible had happened to someone he loved he still found a way to hurt her. But the thought faded into nothingness in her mind when she saw the newly sewn on patch on the breast of his leather vest. President. He clearly had been expecting the news about Jax. The patch being sewn onto Philip's vest meant that Jax Teller's death wasn't unexpected for the boys. They knew it was coming, which meant he'd likely known earlier in the day when she'd unloaded her insecurities on him. She couldn't repeat past mistakes. Not today, she told herself. Not now.

"Chibs," she said softly before scanning the room for outsiders. Two men she didn't know sat in a corner. Separate from the others. They wore the leather, which let her know they were insiders, family, but by their distance from the guys she knew she could tell they were still somehow on the outside. The breast of one of the bikers, a short blonde with an evil stare, said Indian Hills. The guy from Indian Hills whose vest identified him as a President, didn't look to be mourning like the others. His eyes showed more ambivalence than anything else. The other man she recognized from an FBI file. Les Packer. President of the San Bernardino charter of the Sons. He was the chief suspect in an open murder investigation that the FBI was looking into. Packer's stare was more somber, like the others, and she got the feeling he'd much rather be with the local Sons, mourning a loss but something kept him separated. Bad blood of some sort she deduced, but filed her curiosity under club business. Don't ask.

She looked into Chibs eyes and saw the sadness fighting to reveal itself. His eyes never betrayed him. They were red and watery, as if he were doing his damnest to fight off tears. She steeled her nerves again, pointed to the two men in the back corner.

"Can I talk freely?" She asked, doing her best to reinforce his sense of authority in front of the others.

Chibs nodded. "Aye," was all he said.

"I have some bad news guys. Sad news. Jax is dead." The words felt like bricks being hurled across the room. The already somber mood seemed to somehow get worse. They'd been waiting for the news but actually hearing it was something different. It deflated an already heavy mood even further.

"How," someone asked. She recognized the face but when she looked at the man she knew only as T.O., she was shocked. T.O. rode with a group of black bikers out of Lodi named the Grim Bastards, at least he had. Sometime during the span since she'd last saw him and today he'd gotten patched into Samcro. He almost didn't stand out, the lone black face in a sea of whites. The others seemed unaffected by his presence, his new black vest still stiff, his patches still crisp and white.

"Accident on the highway. Head on collision. He was being chased by about twenty cops. He was wanted for multiple counts of murder. Patterson is saying he killed a few people. A Charles Barosky down in Stockton. Someone wearing a Son's vest, matching Jax's description, walked into his shop and in front of four or five witness shot the guy in the head and walked out without uttering a single word. Also there is August Marks. Someone matching the same description as the Barosky murder shot him and a bodyguard down on the courthouse steps in front of a dozen witnesses. Again, didn't say anything. Cops have video of that one, I heard it already leaked to the media. It should play tonight, state police are involved. I won't be able to help you guys if they start sniffing around, so keep your noses clean for a while."

Chibs nodded. "That it?"

Jarry eyed him hard, then tilted her head with sympathy. "No. Jemma Teller and Wayne Unser are also dead. Patterson thinks Jax did them too. She said he all but confessed to it earlier today in her office. But I wouldn't worry about Patterson anymore after today. Jax walked into her office and practically confessed to two murders then insinuated that he'd commit more before the day was out and she let him walk right out the door. Legally she's in the clear but professionally she's done. She won't be anywhere near you guys anymore. And now that you guys are out of guns if you stay out of trouble there is nothing they can hold over you anymore. Those of you on parole or probation of some kind need to be extra careful for a few weeks because they'll be looking to violate someone as payback but after a little while the heat will die down and they'll move on to something else, they always do."

All the eyes in the room were watching her with interest, soaking in her words like the summer sun. Chibs only nodded along, his eyes still cold and hard. "And all things being equal, I need to know if Jax committed anymore murders. Anything that can tie you guys into anything heavy. He went out of his way to keep you guys clear of any of the murder charges, and he insisted to Patterson that he was acting in his own interest and not in the interest of the club. So if any more bodies are going to turn up, now would be the time to link them to something that won't hurt the MC. Anything reasonable I can just shove in Jax's file, and baring any new evidence or eye witnesses the cases will go cold."

Chibs eyes softened for a moment, but just a moment, then he was back to business.

"We'll talk about that and get back to you later today. Aye?" He asked.

Jarry only nodded. "Okay." She looked around the room again at the somber faces. "I'm sorry again. About Jax. I always liked him. He was smart, and stand up."

One of the boys, the bald man with the snake tattoo on his head and the dead eyes, raised his glass. "Jax fuckin Teller," was all he said. The others, all except Indian Hills at least, raised their glasses and repeated the toast.

"Anything more you need me to do?" Jarry asked.

"No," Chibs said as he shook his head, his heart still hard and black. Jarry reached out and touched his shoulder gently, then crouched down to meet his eyes level. Staring into his scarred face she let the anger and the hurt go.

"Philip, is there anything you need. Not from the sheriff, but from me?" She wasn't sure why she said it. She was done with this man, she'd said so earlier today, but she knew when she said it that it wasn't true. It was the hurt talking, the fear. Worries about Patterson.

"You said earlier that," he started to say before she cut him off.

"Not today Philip. Not today. If I had any idea what you were dealing with today, I never would have," she started to say before shaking her head and moving her hand from his shoulder to his cheek. "Just not today. I'm sorry about earlier. What I said."

Chibs nodded, this time his eyes and his voice seemed to soften. "Aye," he said.

"Come by tonight if you can. I'll be around."

He nodded again. "Aye."

She cut the moment short by pulling away and standing back up on her two feet and putting back on her official cop face. "I'll let you guys know when the Medical Examiner releases Jax's body for burial. I have to warn you, it was messy. I won't let you guys see him that way. I handled the ID myself." She looked to the back of the room at the guy from Indian Hills. "If you want to make sure it's actually him I'll take you to him. But I won't let any of his brothers see him that way. Not ever."

The guy from Indian Hill's face turned red. Every eye in the room turned to look at him and Jarry knew her comment had the desired effect. He wasn't here to mourn, he was here to make sure Jax was dead. It was obvious to everyone and Jarry wanted him to know that it was.

"No thank you sheriff. I'll take your word for it. Croweater," he said with a bit of juvenile venom in his voice.

Jarry only smirked. "That's SHERIFF Croweater."

A couple of the boys actually chuckled and she decided to quit while she was ahead. "Is there anybody you need me to tell?"

Chibs shook his head. "We got that covered. Rat's going to call Brooke and she can tell Lyla and the other girls."

"I should probably be with her then. Leave you boys to it." Jarry looked over at Rat and found herself wondering how a boy so young could get mixed up in this madness. His girlfriend Brooke was even younger but Jarry had seen the girl's rap sheet. She would have eventually gotten mixed up in something, better this than something else. Rat actually did seem to love her. That was something.

"Rat have her wait for me. I need to go back to the office and do some quick paperwork. It won't take more than an hour. Then I'll take her where she needs to go. I know she doesn't drive."

Rat nodded. "Sure thing Sheriff."

She gave Chibs another look. "Philip, I'll see you later."

"Aye," was all he said but this time it was full of what Jarry had been missing. Affection and love.

She turned to walk out and eyed up T.O. "I'm going to have to report your upgrade to law enforcement T.O., have Philip text me your full name for the file. If I don't the moment someone else in law enforcement sees you they'll ask why I didn't say anything. Not reporting it will bring about too many questions. It can't be helped."

T.O. nodded seemingly unsure of what else to do. "Sure thing Sheriff."

"Honey, is there any chance we can get that bike back. We wanna repair it good as new. That's the bike Jax's dad died on too. It belongs here, with us," Chibs asked solemnly. The boys in the room looked at her with expectant eyes, eyes she couldn't deny.

"I'll take care of it. I'll call the boys at the shop and let them know when they can go and pick it up," she said. It would take some favors on her part but it was the least she could do she figured. She head towards the door.

Chibs gave her ass a swat as she walked away. "Thanks. Love you babe," he said in that thick Irish brogue she loved so much.

"Love you too. See you guys later. Sorry again about Jax." She looked to the back of the room at the two men sitting alone. "And you guys never saw any of this."

Packer raised his beer. "Of course not Sheriff."

Indian Hills glared but raised his beer. "Jax Teller. May he rest in peace."

The boys raised their glasses again as Jarry made herself scarce.