No copyright infringement is intended.

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

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

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

This chapter is dedicated to the memory of my father, who died 4 May, 2011. Rest in Peace, Daddy.

Charming Pawse

From NS to Out

Chapter XIII

As the World Falls Down

Tina Lou glanced at the caller ID and trembled slightly to find Ally Lowen's phone number. "So how long do I have to move out?"

"You don't, Tina. If you pay the past due amount by end of business today!"

Tina let out a sigh of relief. "Were you able to find out why I didn't get the bill?"

"I did," the lawyer replied, sharing her discovery earlier that afternoon.

"I should've known Hale would be behind this!" Tina snarled. "Anytime you smell a rotten fart, he's always the cause!"

"Never mind that," Ally retorted, though she secretly shared the woman's opinion. "The club's willing to help you if you don't have the payment."

"Tell 'em thanks, but it's not necessary. I set aside money from every job just for that purpose," Tina replied. "Who else was Hale targeting?"

"Everyone involved with the club that owns property in the Liberty Street area, including Lowell Sr and the Delaneys!" Ally stated. "The club's going to rescue those properties."

"I thought he gave up on that after he lost out on Lumpy's," Tina remarked.

"Hale's like a dog after a bone," Ally chuckled. "He's not going to give up until he runs the club out of town and has his pockets bulging with big box retail money. He's also trying to get some of Oswald's land."

"I read about that, something about an interstate exit along with a high end subdivision. Just who in the Hell does he think is gonna buy those houses?" Tina snarled.

"I don't know or care," Ally sniffed. "I made sure the county treasurer doesn't make the same mistake again of taking Hale's – or anyone else's - word for an account name change without proof."

"Do I have to have the treasurer's office put the account back in my name?"

"Already taken care of. By the way, watch your email later today, I'm sending you some information that might be of interest."

"What's that?"

"If I tell you now, you won't have anything to look forward to," the lawyer laughed.

"Thanks, Ally," Tina sighed. "Rosen never would have gone to these lengths to help when he was handling the club."

"You're welcome," pleasure from the woman's praise evident in her voice. She didn't mind manipulating the law in the best interest of the club. They paid her well and had grown to trust her in the months since Rosen handed the account over to her. She also enjoyed getting a chance to 'stick it' to the mayor, who wasn't one of her favorite citizens.

"That's good, Ally," Opie stated, clicking his cell closed to end the call. Having one less property to rescue was very good news. It was one less hassle for him to manage.

"What's good to hear, Ope?" Kozik inquired, leaning against the door to the conference room where church was held.

"Tina's got the money to rescue her place. We just need to take care of the other endangered homes," he replied.

"Good. I'll send Vlin to make the payment. Wanna talk to ya about him, anyway."

Opie leaned back in the President's chair and lit a cigarette. "Got anything to do with that job he did for you the other day?"

Kozik settled into Tig's chair and nodded. "He came through in spades," he explained, outlining the reason he tapped the hang around to shadow Pete. "Vlin says that kid is quite an electronics geek. We could use someone like him with Juice in the slammer."

Opie was impressed with the report about Vlin and surprised by yet another display of Cat's devotion to Tig. He covered for it by remarking, "Pete's not interested in prospecting, much less hanging around," he grumbled.

"True, but I know someone who does wanna prospect, and that's Vlin," Kozik stated. "I think he's earned it."

"We'll discuss it with Chibs before we bring it up to Clay and the rest this weekend," Opie proclaimed. "Ally's going to ask Tina Lou to work with Cat and Ima in managing the properties for us."

"Good," Kozik grinned. He appreciated that the girls would have additional help with the new business venture. Ima was proving to be a real asset with managing the gym, especially in Cat's absence, but had expressed concern over the added responsibility for her friend.

"Cat's already running the coffeehouse and the kiosk, plus overseeing the gym for you and Tig," she protested when Kozik told her of the club's new business venture. "Something might go wrong from not getting the right attention at the right time."

"I know, baby, but we can't let Hale get away with stealing those properties," Kozik informed her. "Not many civilians wanna work for the club."

"That's true," Ima sighed. "What about one of the Croweaters?"

"Most of them don't have the brains, baby," Kozik smirked. "You, Lyla, Cat, Tara, and Gemma are the only women that can handle somethin' like this."

"And we're all pretty busy with our own pursuits," Ima mused. "What about Tina Lou? She's pretty smart."

Kozik smacked his head with the palm of his hand. "Shit! I totally forgot about her!"

'I was afraid of that,' Ima thought. Aloud she added, "I guess it would be easy to forget about her without her husband around to remind you."

"Owtch!" He winced.

"Truth hurts, lover," Ima smirked.

"I know Clay wanted Cat in charge of it; Tig ran it by her last night and she seemed OK with it. Having one of the old ladies that she's worked with helpin' out can't hurt."

"Cat trusts Tina Lou, otherwise she wouldn't have hired her to clean her house, much less let her sell her crafts out of the coffeehouse," Ima pointed out.

"That's true." A quick call to Opie got approval for the added worker. Opie then called Ally to tell her of the plan, which the lawyer added to the legal paperwork she was sending to Cat.

"It's legitimate money for the club," Opie reminded the acting SAA. "With the women handling it for us, civilians will be more willing to patronize it."

"Think Tina will take the job?"

"I don't see why not," Opie shrugged.

"Speakin' of Tina Lou, her kid's been stopping in every day after school. I've had the mechanics and the hang arounds chase him off, but he's a persistent little fucker."

Opie rolled his eyes and sighed. "Maybe we'd better visit Tina in the morning. She needs to know about this, if she doesn't already. Clay agreed not to let him hang around here until he was outta high school."

"Agreed," Kozik laughed, rising from the chair and heading to the door. "I'll tell Chibs. It'll give us all somethin' to take our minds off tomorrow."

"No shit," Opie sighed at the acting SAA's retreating back.

Ally read over the offer for Tina Lou's new position of rental property manager, satisfied that it covered all the necessary points. The lawyer felt confident that Cat would approve the terms she'd drawn up; the club deferred to her in all things pertaining to legitimate business ventures. Opie had already approved the arrangement; it was now up to Cat to sign off on it and for Tina to accept it.

Ally saved the document then attached it to the email she was sending Cat. Another document that spelled out the terms of the umbrella LLC she had prepared was already attached to the email.

"Everything's ready for tomorrow," she wrote in the body of the email. "I already picked up Tig's shirt and one of those frozen sandwiches you mentioned. I'll get some of the whisky blend coffee for him on my way to the prison. The LLC document can be reviewed when you have time, but the one marked 'TL' needs your immediate attention. I'm sorry to intrude on your loss with mundane business matters, the situation dropped right in my lap when I least expected it. As you know, though, that's usually the case where matters with the club are concerned, LOL.

"Feel free to make any modifications you feel are necessary to the agreement. I can insert them and get the finished product to you for an e-signature in no time. That will suffice until you can sign it when you get back.

"If you need something to take your mind off things, the other document is a preliminary breakdown of the LLC for the gym, the coffeehouse, the kiosk, and the rental management business. If you don't like the name I came up with, we can always change it.

"If you need anything between the time you read this and tomorrow morning, let me know. I'll have the cell nearby, as always."

Ally set her personal signature to the email and clicked send. 'Now all I have to do is to wait for her reply,' she thought as she began an email to Tina Lou, explaining the job opportunity and attaching the offer document. She emphasized to the widow that the offer was preliminary, subject to Cat's approval. She finished the email just as her mailbox showed an incoming email had arrived.

'Damn! That was fast!' She whistled soundlessly, recognizing Cat's email address.

"Hey, Ally!" The email read. "Figured best get back with you right away. The thing for Tina looks good as is. The name 'Crows' Nest Properties' works for me and I'm sure the club will go with it. Let Tina know that the Delaney's house was cleared out after Lou Ann died. TM is storing the furniture. I do want to add an addendum that Otto receives a percentage of the rental proceeds, just in case he needs a nest egg."

'That girl! No one else would think of entertaining that idea!' Ally grinned to herself .

"I'd really feel better if you get Otto's input and approval before we make use of the house and furnishings," Cat's email continued. Ally's smile grew wider. She knew it wouldn't make a difference to Otto, but she understood Cat's feelings on the matter. It was another example of her sense of fair play and respect. She made a note to arrange a meeting with Otto for the next day after the service. She'd rather handle both matters at the same time than make another trip to the prison.

"Let Tina and the club decide what they want to charge for the rents and whether the utilities should be paid by the tenant or not. I'd prefer we pay utilities and include the cost in the rent, only to make sure the services are constant, but will abide with the majority vote," Cat wrote. "I'm really glad that Ima suggested bringing on another one of the club's women into this venture. Tina Lou knows these homes better than I do and this will provide her with a steadier income than the housecleaning and her craft sales.

"Be sure to get in contact with me about 15 minutes before the service. I'll try to get into the family lounge to talk to y'all. Thanks again for your help."

Ally noticed that her client hadn't mentioned the name she'd suggested for the LLC. 'She probably wants more time to think on it," she mused, opening the file with Tina's contract and adding the suggestions Cat had made. 'I suspect she'll come up with something different from my suggestion, but it's a good working title for the moment!' She edited the closing line of her email to Tina,, "Come by in a couple of days to fill out the tax forms and apply for your license. We'll discuss matters in more detail. "Congratulations!"

Jacob Hale was experiencing one of the worst days of his life. It started with a call from his lawyer informing him that Elliott Oswald had filed an injunction against the town's use of imminent domain to obtain the 300 acres for the interstate access and planned luxury subdivision.

"That's going to take a lot of time to resolve!" He protested.

"Granted, it won't happen in your timeline, but it will get resolved," the city attorney mused. "Oswald is just doing it to annoy you. Courts historically find in favor of imminent domain."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Hale growled.

"No, but you can take comfort in the fact that when it comes time to settle, you'll be paying a lot less than if he hadn't put up a fight," the city attorney pointed out. "You'll get the land for pennies on the dollar, quite a boost to your bottom line."

"Yeah, right," Hale muttered dourly before hanging up. He had a bad feeling that Zobelle wouldn't be pleased with the delay and knew it was only a matter of time before he got an unwanted call taking him to task for failing again.

Another nasty surprise awaited the mayor when he arrived at his business. He pulled up his secret files on the tax foreclosure properties and checked it against the upcoming sheriff's auction. To his dismay, the properties had been removed from the sale list as paid in full. A call to his crony there confirmed the bad news, though the clerk wouldn't release the name of the payer for the Hardiwell and Delaney properties.

"Isn't that a matter of public record?" Hale inquired grimly. "Even if it isn't, it should be available to me as mayor!"

"All I'm allowed to tell you is that the delinquencies have been paid in full, Mr. Mayor," the clerk replied. "It's not worth my job to release any other information, even to you."

Hale sighed heavily. "I have a feeling I know who's behind this!"

"Another property you were looking at just came off the list," the clerk added. "Ms Tina Lou just paid her back taxes in full, and the property's been deeded back to her."

"Shit!" Hale groaned, wiping his face with his free hand.

"It gets better. There's a new rule in effect that all changes on deeds have to be accompanied by documentation to prove the property is actually owned by the person requesting the deed. There's no more taking it at face value," the crony remarked.

"Damn! Damn! Damn!" Hale snarled, slamming the receiver onto the cradle and pacing angrily around his ornate personal office. "It's that God damn club again! They're the only people capable of making large payments in such a short time! And damn that county official for putting in a new procedure on the deeds! That's smacks of the bull shit that Marshall woman would suggest, but she's too far away to stick her nose in this!"

He stopped pacing when his secretary delivered the legal papers to him. He skimmed through the pages that documented Oswald's peal to the court. His eyes widened in alarm when he realized who was representing Oswald. "Shit! Oswald's hired Ally Lowen!" Hale moaned, tossing the document onto his desk. Lowen was smart as a whip and had already fought city hall over several ordinances that would have been detrimental to SAMCRO, which she also represented. Those legal skirmishes had left Hale looking impotent in his position as mayor. 'Why did Rosen give up representing the club?' Hale moaned. 'Lowen is too willing to bend the law to help them, and that is not going to be good!'

Hale wondered if he might've gone too far by targeting the biker widow. It had made sense when he concocted the plan. She had no direct connection to the club and no one to look out for her best interests. He shrugged the idea off like a pesky fly buzzing around his head. 'It's not like anyone can trace me from the billing name and address change! I didn't put the PMB in my name, and paid for it in cash!'

Hale had done everything via the internet on a public computer an office supply store in Stockton, insuring that the transactions would not lead back to him. He had no concerns about his crony in the clerk's office ratting him out; he had far too much dirt on the weasel. 'Besides, who would believe him if he talks?

Kozik walked out of the clubhouse to find Vlin being bombarded by questions from Tina Lou's son about prospecting.

"Is Opie inside?" the teen inquired.

"He is, but you shouldn't be here," the acting SAA growled.

"Why not?" The youth challenged. "I'm nearly 18! Mom can't keep me from patching in if I wanna patch in!"

"True," Kozik mused. "But you're not 18 yet, and it's also a matter of whether we want you to patch in!"

"But my dad -"

"Your dad was a good brother," Kozik interjected sternly. "But that doesn't mean we owe you a patch. It takes a lotta work to join SAMCRO, Vlin can attest to that!"

"You mean I gotta prospect like any dude off the street?" The young man sneered.

Vlin flushed angrily. His prospect patch meant a lot to him. He had been putting in a lot of hours to earn his place at the Redwood table. Kozik nodded slightly at him, obviously warning to let him handle the kid. Vlin forced himself to relax, though he clenched his hands into fists under the table, fighting his reflexive urge to protect the honor of the prospect position.

'If I make it through prospecting, I'll be the club's first Asian-American member!' Vlin reminded himself. 'The Triads never appealed to me. They cling too much to tradition, which means they stay as far away from motorcycles as they can! I love riding, and this club has come to mean something to me, no matter what kind of job the patched members give me!'

"That's exactly what I mean," Kozik acknowledged sternly. "Just because your old man was a member doesn't mean you have an automatic in. Ope and Jax had to prospect; and their fathers were full patched members. It's rough work, you have to do anything and everything a patched member tells ya to do, without question or argument, no matter what time of day or night it is. From what I see right now, you're not ready to prospect, much less become a Son."

Tina's son snorted in disbelief. He'd always believed that sons of Sons were 'legacies' and that Jax and Opie's prospecting time was just for show. To find out that they'd had to do 'grunt work' like any other prospect came as an unpleasant surprise. He had all kinds of ideas about club life that were paling in the light of day. 'Maybe it's time to have a sit down with Mom about it.'

Kozik wasn't blind to the inner struggle the boy was experiencing. He laid a hand on the young man's shoulder and added, "Think on it awhile. Come back when ya turn 18 and you can start hangin' around, see how the club really works and if you still wanna prospect, we'll discuss it then."

The young man contemplated Kozik's offer for a few seconds, then nodded and walked dejectedly to his bike. Within seconds, he tore out of the lot in the direction of his house.

The remainder of Hale's work day passed uneventfully. The mundane municipal matters of the town occupied his mind and took away some of the stress from the morning. By the time he got home that night, all he wanted to do was sit down with a tall glass of bourbon and relax. That turned out to be impossible. The minute he entered his den, the landline began ringing. Caller ID confirmed the dreaded fact that Zobelle was calling him.

"Shit!" He moaned. "The perfect end to a shit day!" He stalked to the bar and poured a hefty amount of brandy into a tumbler. The phone went silent but immediately began ringing again, meaning whoever was calling didn't want to leave a message.

Hale knew there was no use in ignoring the telephone's summons, and that it wasn't a good idea to keep Ethan Zobelle waiting. Not if he wanted to eliminate the MC from Charming once and for all. He trudged to the phone and picked it up before the call went to voice mail for a second time.

"Hello, Mr. Zobelle," he sighed into the mouthpiece. "I just got home."

"You've been home for the last five minutes, Jacob," Zobelle intoned. "You know how I feel about leaving messages."

"Yes sir. It won't happen again," Hale promised fervently. "What can I do for you today?"

"You can quit trying to go around my back with land grabs," Zobelle instructed coldly. "Don't try to deny it. I have eyes and ears all over Charming."

'As well as my home; damned if I can figure out where you put the bugs!' Hale thought grimly. "I thought it would help get that damn club out of town that much sooner!" He explained.

"Leave the thinking to me. Charming Heights will drive SAMCRO out of town, along with the interstate dogleg and the big business it will bring in. Keep your eye on the prize, and trust me to make it fall in your lap – or would you rather finance the project on your own?"

Zobelle's challenge turned Hale's blood to ice. "You know damn well I can't afford that!"

"Then do not deviate from the path I have set," Zobelle warned. "The properties have returned to the Sons – for now. Leave them that way and don't repeat the offense of acting before consulting me. And Jacob, I have one more suggestion for you."

'Suggestion my ass! More like order!' Hale thought dryly. Aloud he respectfully replied, "Yes sir?"

"Get a haircut. Long hair is not a good look for a city leader."

The line went dead before Hale could form a reply. He sighed and fell into the comfort of his leather desk chair. His hands shook slightly as he raised the tumbler to his mouth while he wondered yet again whether getting rid of the club was worth dealing with Zobelle.

Cat looked over the latest floral deliveries to the funeral parlor, including a planter sent from Teller – Morrow. She recognized it as their way of helping maintain the story that Alex was employed as a mechanic and appreciated the gesture. She also recognized Gemma's influence in the contents of the planter. 'We may have our differences, but Gemma's got good taste when it comes to flora,' she mused. Unlike the fresh cut flowers on the casket spray and other floral arrangements honoring her father, the planter could be repotted or put in the ground to be enjoyed for years to come. 'At least it'll last awhile if someone with a greener thumb than me cares for it!'

An hour's visitation was scheduled prior to the service. She was wearing the same black outfit she'd worn during the previous evening's visitation, including black gloves that concealed the bandages on her hands. The gloves had cushioned the wounds from the many handclasps she'd received, but her hands had been quite swollen and tender by the end of the evening.

She soaked them for some time in warm water with Epsom salts that night. The swelling went down significantly following the treatment, but her brothers, the 'Illinois Boys', Dawn, and her employees ganged up on her and refused to allow her to do any work on her father's possessions that morning before the service.

"It'll just aggravate your injuries, Lil Sis," Jan growled in response to her protest.

"Yeah, you need 'em ready for later," BZ chimed in.

"I agree," Chuckie added. "That swelling made my plastic fingers hurt!"

"All right!" Cat sighed, holding up her hands in surrender. "I give in! Can't fight all y'all." She compromised by supervising until it was time to leave for the funeral home.

Cat tried not to worry about what Dawn would wear to the funeral, though the girl had worn suitable attire the night before. She hoped her step - daughter would be just as conservative for the service, though the revealing halter top and short shorts Dawn wore to the house didn't give her much faith to hold onto. To her relief, Dawn changed into a long skirt and demure blouse, both in a dark grey color. Sensible flat shoes completed her ensemble.

"When is the limo picking us up?" She asked, inwardly smirking over her step – mother's obvious approval of her attire. 'She must've thought I was gonna wear a stripper outfit!'

"There's not goin' to be one, honey," Cat explained.

Dawn barely managed to hide her disappointment. She'd been looking forward to riding in a limo – or whatever the podunk town offered for limousine services. "There's not?" She squeaked.

"Why waste money on something so ostentatious?" Cat replied. "Besides, there's no way that anything but a Mopar vehicle is following Daddy on his last trip!"

Dawn couldn't believe her ears. "You're driving?"

"I'm perfectly capable of it," Cat smiled. "Haven't taken any pain pills today, just aspirin. It'll be OK, kiddo."

"We'll be riding in the Chrysler, too," Chuckie offered helpfully. "I don't think it's creepy to be in her father's car."

'Ew!' Dawn thought it definitely was creepy, but she knew there was no point in arguing about it. She wasn't dressed to bitch ride with one of the club, and she was still a little in awe of her uncles to ride with them. She swallowed her distaste and climbed into the passenger front seat of the Chrysler.

'I really thought Dawn was goin' to be upset seein' Daddy laid out, but she handled it like a trooper,' Cat recalled the girl's reaction to the sight at the previous evening's visitation. Dawn had stood beside the casket, gazing at the still form of her step grandparent. To Cat's surprise, Dawn laid a hand over one of his and bowed her head for a moment before stepping away from the casket and sitting down in one of the overstuffed chairs lining the wall of the room to watch the DVD of pictures of Blaine's life.

Chuckie followed Dawn like a puppy, especially when she first looked at her step grandfather lying in the casket. He briefly hoped she might react adversely, just to give him an excuse to give her a hug. She disappointed him by holding up, though a few genuine tears rolled down her cheeks. He had to be satisfied with awkwardly patting her shoulder in a comforting gesture with his fake hand. She seemed to appreciate it.

"Th – thanks," Dawn sniffled, accepting the tissue Chuckie offered. She dabbed at her eyes and cheeks so she wouldn't smear her makeup, offering a small smile to him.

'Chuckie is definitely smitten! Poor guy. At least Dawn's willin' to tolerate havin' him hang around.' Cat grinned,

The arrival of Miriam Marshall claimed Cat's attention. Her uncles and the nursing assistant wheeled her to the casket so she could view her husband. The elderly woman shook her head and reached out to pat his arm as if she expected him to wake up. "I guess he won't wake up any more," she sighed, dropping her hand to her lap. It was the exact reaction she'd had at the evening visitation.

Jan and Daniel exchanged relieved glances. They'd feared their mother might have an adverse reaction to seeing Blaine's body in the casket, despite having seen it the night before. "Maybe things will go well after all," Jan murmured.

"The day's still young, brother," Daniel replied, gesturing to the parlor door where the guests would sign the condolence book.

Miriam Marshall alternated between being mystified by her surroundings and happy at having so many people pay attention to her. She quickly forgot the reason for their visit and accepted the hugs and kisses she received from long-time friends and family members. The borrowed blanket she'd been given at the evening visitation when she complained of being cold was wrapped around her legs.

No one had thought to bring a sweater for her in case she felt cold in the air conditioned building during the evening visitation. Fortunately, the funeral home manager offered a solution by producing the home made quilt that had accompanied Blaine from Good Samaritan Hospital to the Specialty Hospital. It had made the journey to the funeral home when the workers came to collect his body.

"Do you mind if I give this to Miriam?" The manager asked Cat in a whisper.

"She needs it more than I do," Cat replied, forcing her emotional pain aside. She accepted the quilt, forcing away the urge to bury her nose in it to inhale her father's scent once more, and draped it over her step – mother's lap. "This should keep you warm, Mom," she murmured, patting the woman's chilled hand. The quilt went with her when she was taken back to the nursing home that night. Cat knew she'd never see it again, but felt some comfort from the thought that it would wrap Miriam in her father's love.

"How's Mom?" Cat inquired softly of her brothers.

"Overwhelmed," Dan explained quietly. "The nurse said she was pretty confused last night."

"I'm not surprised," she sighed. "I feel the same way."

She glanced across the room at her Aunt Flora, her father's sister, who was acting as an unofficial co hostess. The woman greeted many of the new arrivals and escorted them to her brother's casket while Cat was otherwise engaged with visitors demanding her attention. She was grateful for the woman's assistance and flashed a sad smile her Aunt's way that she returned with a slight nod.

Adair Saggs, June's daughter, brought a small bright spot to the trying day. 'Critter' engulfed her in a warm hug. "Mom sends her love. She just started a new assignment and couldn't get away."

"I'm glad you're here, baby girl," Cat sighed, relaxing into the younger woman's embrace.

"Kind of a poor substitute," Adair shrugged. "I know you need Mom more than me."

Cat stepped back a bit to look her god daughter in the eye. "That's not true! Havin' y'all here means more to me than you can guess! Besides, June's here in spirit, and that counts – a lot!"

"I hope so!" Adair replied, hugging her god mother again. "Let me know how I can help."

"You already have, just by being here," Cat assured her. She sensed a presence behind her and turned to find Dawn eyeing them warily. "This is my step - daughter, Dawn Trager. Dawn, this is my best friend's daughter and my god child, Adair Saggs."

The women shook hands in a cordial manner, though Cat didn't miss the calculating expression on Dawn's face, as if she considered 'Critter' a potential rival. Dawn had that same expression when she met Daniel's and Jan's daughters the night before.

"Nice of you to come," Dawn stated cordially in an attempt of hide her scrutiny of the newcomer. She didn't believe Blaine Marshall would consider a god child deserving of a bequest. Learning that she had more step cousins than she'd anticipated to share in the old man's will had been shocking enough. 'If he did leave the gash anything, I'll figure out a way to get it from her!' Dawn assured herself.

"I take it you live in California?" Adair replied. She didn't realize that she was being sized up by the other woman. She was interested in learning all she could about her god mother's life beyond what she'd learned in Cat's letters and the business websites.

"Yeah. I lived with her and my dad for a bit, even worked at the coffeehouse," Dawn boasted, puffing her chest out in pride. "I got a job offer in LA so I live there now. I got to talk to Grandpa Blaine a few times; he encouraged me to follow my dreams."

"Same here. Mom and I visited with him a few times when I was a child. He always had something fun for me to do besides watch television," Adair recalled.

Cat relaxed as the conversation between the two women remained cordial. Though it was obvious to her that Dawn viewed 'Critter' as a potential rival, she was assured the pair wouldn't get into a cat fight and excused herself to greet other newcomers. "I'll talk to you later, 'Critter' and I expect you to attend the family dinner later," she remarked, touching Adair on the arm for a moment before limping away to the entrance.

"'Critter'?" Dawn's eyes widened in malicious delight. "She called ya 'Critter'?"

"My childhood nickname," Adair shrugged. "Mom and Cat called me that. It never bothered me and still doesn't. Do you have any idea why she's limping?"

Dawn's eyes narrowed for a moment, watching Cat limping to greet two male newcomers as if they were long lost friends. "Oh, that," she shrugged. "Cat was riding in Indianapolis a couple of days ago and laid down the bike. Got some road rash."

"Glad to know she's still riding," Adair remarked. "She loves it but it scares me!"

"Not me!" Dawn boasted, snorting derisively at the woman's fear of motorcycles. "I ride on the back of my father's bike lots of times! It's fun!"

"I'll take your word for it," Adair replied. "I get stress relief from my pets." She was growing uncomfortable by the other woman's boasts and posturing, as if her relationship with Cat was better than her own. 'It's not like we're in a competition! Why is she trying to act so superior to me?' She positioned her purse strap on her shoulder and murmured, "I guess I'll find a seat; it was nice to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm sure," Dawn smirked. She looked past Adair at a dark skinned, bald man who'd just entered the parlor.

Cat was surprised to see her friends Vic and 'Big Bird' enter the funeral parlor. "I didn't expect to see you two here!"

"We thought we'd come as a show of support," Vic explained.

"Yeah," Bird added. "It's what we do for friends."

"Did you guys ride or drive down?"

"We rode," Vic grinned. "Blackie's all fixed up; you'd never know he'd been laid down."

"I'm really touched that y'all made the trip," she observed.

"It's quite a turnout. The parking lot's almost full," Vic replied.

"Your father must've been well liked," Bird added.

"He was," she replied quietly. "I may not have a lot of time to visit with y'all today—"

Bird put a hand on her arm, cutting off her apology. "Don't worry about us, darlin'. We'll hang out with your biker friends."

"I hope you two will come to the dinner after the burial," she smiled.

"We wouldn't miss it," Vic grinned before the pair sauntered over to greet the outlaws.

'Brownie' waited in the parking lot until 15 minutes before the service was scheduled to begin. He wanted to sign the guest book and find a seat without having to 'make nice' with the family. He found a nearly full house when he entered the building, but it suited his needs more than it annoyed him. He took one of the remembrance cards and read a small placard placed in front of a stack of envelopes that named the recipients of donations. Some cancer institute and the Conference!' He sneered inwardly, staring longingly at the pile of envelopes resting inside the locked box.

'I'd love to have all that money! A shame it's goin' to waste when it would benefit me!' He sighed. 'Most likely the donors wrote checks, and that shit's hard to convert without the right supplies, which I don't have and there's too many witnesses around to chance it!' He took one of the envelopes for appearances sake before meaning to the coffin. He assumed a reverent posture in front of the casket, hoping that none of the minister's family would approach him. He kept his head bowed as if in prayer, a signal that he didn't wish to indulge in conversation. 'Somehow I've gotta avoid FatFuck and her folks without alerting her buddies!'

Though it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Cat was not overweight, he clung to his memory of her appearance in the old days; it helped to keep the embers of his hatred burning. He glanced out the corners of his eyes, relieved to find that the Marshall family was too distracted with other visitors to be concerned with him. He wasn't worried that anyone would approach him while he was standing at the coffin; people tended to respect the sanctity of a mourner's time with the deceased. He smiled in triumph at the figure in the coffin, confident in his eventual win over the despised Marshall family. The spiteful grin lasted only a moment before he schooled his expression into one of solemn seriousness and turned away from the casket.

His heart raced when he made eye contact with two of the outlaws standing across the room from him. They stood out like sore thumbs in their blue jeans and denim shirts. He could tell they weren't carrying weapons, though he knew firsthand their rings were capable of doling out a great deal of punishment.

He extracted the donation envelope and a pen from the inner pocket of his suit coat and sat on a sofa next to the wall near the outlaws. He filled out the entry blanks on the front, then turned his back to the bikers so they wouldn't see his next move. He knew they would believe he was writing a check and be amused by his protective air over his money. In reality he was writing a nasty note about the deceased.

He could feel the bearded biker's continued scrutiny of him, recalling briefly the nudge he'd given his companion when he spotted 'Brownie'. He signed the note with a flourish, stuffed it in the enveloped, then rose and walked casually towards the donation box. 'If those assholes start to come after me, I'll have a head start and might be able to hide from 'em in the parking lot!'

"Trouble, brother?" Grim murmured to BZ, who was glaring at a dark skinned, bald man sitting to one side scribbling on one of the donation envelopes.

"Not sure," BZ replied. "There's somethin' about that guy that doesn't feel right."

"He does kinda stand out like a piece of coal in a snow pile," GB admitted wryly.

"Hello, pot! Meet kettle!" BZ snorted softly. "We aren't exactly gussied up ya know."

"True dat," GB shrugged. "We did the best we could, given that we didn't pack for a civilian funeral! We prolly look more like students than outlaws. Maybe the dude's a teacher come to pay his respects."

"Maybe. There's just somethin' about him that seems odd," BZ pointed out.

"Such as?"

"He didn't greet Kitty for one, and he walked right past her step mom without a word or look! Even if this guy didn't know Cat, common courtesy demands he acknowledge the widow!"

"Not everyone that comes to one of these things feels comfortable around the family," GB explained. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I guess you're right," BZ remarked, watching the man in question walk up to the guest book podium and deposit an envelope in the plastic donation box.

"See? He's makin' a donation in honor of the preacher! That's not somethin' a trouble maker would do." GB observed.

"I guess you're right," BZ shrugged and turned his attention to the latest arrivals, who'd just gotten an enthusiastic greeting from their friend. "Now those two are familiar!"

"Aren't those Cat's friends from Indianapolis?" GB inquired.

"Yeah, Bird and Vic," BZ grinned, holding out a hand towards the pair that approached them. The men exchanged the usual 'bro hug' greeting. "Glad ya made it. Kitty will definitely appreciate it."

"We hope so," Bird murmured. "We felt like we needed to be here."

"That's 'the code' comin' out in ya," Grim remarked. "You don't have to be in an MC to honor it."

"And you two went the extra mile, no pun intended," BZ grinned.

"We tried the latest extension to I-69," Vic related. "It's a bear going through Bloomington right now with all the construction, but the rest of it is pretty smooth."

"So you rode," GB observed.

The pair grinned and nodded. "We saw your bikes out in the lot," Bird added.

"You're welcome to ride with us to the cemetery; we can be the unofficial honor guard," BZ offered.

"We'd like that," Vic replied. "We're parked next to your bikes. Never been in an honor guard before."

"We'll be bringin' up the rear," GB cautioned.

Before either man could reply, the arrival of a tall, willowy blond woman caught their attention by howling "My Unkie Bain!" Her shriek drew the startled attention of all the guests in the room.

"Now that has trouble written all over it!" GB chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Cat remained concerned about her step – mother during the morning visitation. Miriam was unusually quiet despite all the attention she was getting. An aide from the nursing home was sitting directly behind Miriam's wheelchair.

Cat walked over to the aide and leaned down to softly inquire, "Is she goin' to be okay for the service?"

"She should be," the aide reported.

"She's not her usual talkative self today," Cat pointed out.

"She's in a strange environment. It's the first time she's been out of the nursing home since she was admitted."

"My Unkie Bain!" A strident voice cried out, hushing the respectful buzz in the room. A few seconds later, Cat was caught in a crushing embrace from her eldest cousin Georgia, better known by her generation of Marshalls as 'The Little Princess.'

Cat rolled her eyes to the Heavens and awkwardly returned the hug. "It's good of you to come," she replied, suppressing a wince of pain. Georgia had grabbed onto some of the bruises on her arms.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away from my 'Unkie Bain'!" Her cousin wept. "I'm going to miss him so much!"

'Like Hell! Where were y'all when he was sick and could've used some cheerin' up? You haven't visited him for years!' Cat thought vehemently. She gazed beseechingly at her brothers for help, but they were deep in conversations of their own. Rescue came from her cousins Geoff and Alan, Jr., who circled the pair and gently pried Cat from their eldest cousin's grasp.

"Hey, cuz!" Alan Jr., grasped their cousin by an elbow. "It's good to see you! Why don't y'all come over and talk to my dad for a bit? There's somethin' Cat's gotta attend to before the service."

"Yeah," Geoff added, taking Georgia's other elbow. "We'll take care of her, Cat. Go get that web conference set up."

"Thanks," she left the parlor and headed for the small family lounge, closing the door and locking it behind her. "I wish they served something stronger than coffee here! I could use a belt after that scene!' She set the laptop on the table, opened it, and powered it up. The video conference notice indicator was going off, indicating that Ally and Alex were trying to reach her.

Geoff and Alan Jr., hustled Georgia out of the room where Blaine lay in state and on across the hall into an empty parlor. They quickly closed the door and stood in front of it so Georgia couldn't leave.

"I thought you were taking me to Unkie Alan!" She protested, wrenching her arms from their grasp.

"What the Hell are you thinkin' Cuz?" Alan Jr. growled. "This is neither the time nor the place to act out!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" She retorted, all traces of her earlier grief replaced by righteous indignation over being manhanded. "I am going to miss 'Unkie Bain'!"

"Oh, come off it!" Geoff snorted. "You haven't called Uncle Blaine that in decades!"

"Maybe so," she sniffed disdainfully. "But that doesn't mean I'm not upset by his passing!"

"We all are, and Cat most of all. It's even harder on her with her step – mother's condition!" Alan Jr., retorted. "Makin' a big attention gettin' scene isn't goin' to help! It'll probably upset Aunt Miriam more than she already is!"

"Aunt Miriam barely knows where she is and Cat certainly didn't seem very happy to see me!" Georgia wailed. "She hardly spoke to me!"

The two brothers smiled knowingly at one another. Years of experience with their cousin taught them how to best deal with her. "Y'all didn't give her much of a chance," Alan Jr., smirked. "We're puttin' you on notice not to make a big scene durin' the service!"

"Unless," Geoff added, cutting off her self-serving protest, "you want to prove to everyone that you don't really give a damn about Uncle Blaine after all!"

Her face turned pale in response to Geoff's observation. As much as she craved being the center of attention, she disliked being scorned by a crowd. "All right," she sniffed. "You win."

"Good," Alan Jr., grinned, moving away from the door. Georgia strode out into the hall in a huff, closing the door behind her. She wanted to slam it, but stopped herself from acting on that desire. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and walked grandly into the parlor, her expression set in an appropriate but less agitated one of mourning as she glided up to greet her step aunt.

Geoff and Alan Jr., watched from the entrance while 'The Little Princess' sedately gave the widow a hug and kiss of greeting. Though Miriam didn't immediately recognize her, she beamed when she heard the woman's name and gave her a hug back.

"That was too easy," Geoff remarked.

"I know. I have a feelin' that we haven't heard the last of her," Alan Jr., sighed.

Cat collapsed gratefully into one of the chairs in the family lounge, grateful to be out of the spotlight for a few precious moments. She'd already forgotten about the aggravation 'The Little Princess' had caused and opened the video conference program. "Hey, y'all! Sorry to keep you waitin'."

"Hey back, baby," Alex grinned. "You're worth waitin' for."

She smiled slightly at his compliment. "Run into any problems, love?"

"Just when the guard first called me out; Moore sent one of his favorites to retrieve me."

"I'll bet the guys appreciated that!" She snorted.

"Not really," he deadpanned.

A guard appeared in the center of the cafeteria doorway just as the club was gathering at their usual table. The members of SAMCRO didn't pay attention to him until he shouted, "24601! Front and center!"

Tig's expression remained neutral as he rose from the bench and turned to acknowledge the guard with both hands raised to show he posed no threat.

Clay and the rest of the club weren't as easy going about the guard's order. Fearing for his friend's safety, Clay shot upright with the rest of the club following close behind. They clustered protectively around the SAA while Clay snarled, "What the fuck's goin' on? He's not one of ours!"

"Relax," Tig growled warningly. "It's the warden's way of fuckin' with me before the service."

The guard menacingly narrowed his eyes at the club. Always alert to danger, Tig noticed the guard's expression change and advised his brothers to resume their seats. "We don't need trouble, guys."

"He's doin' a damn good job of causin' it!" Clay growled, slowly backing away and resuming his place at the table. The other club members backed away from Tig just as slowly. Though seated, they were tense and ready to react if necessary.

"What the Hell does he want with you?" Juiced inquired.

Tig gave the intelligence officer a look of surprise. "Really?"

Juice frowned in consternation, then his face fell with dismay. "Sorry, brother."

Tig nodded and turned back towards the impatiently waiting guard. He had told the club about getting to watch the funeral as they gathered for breakfast.

"Watch your back, brother," Bobby sagely advised. "It's a long trip between here and the Warden's office. Moore's the kind of asshole who'd jump at the chance to get even, no matter what Cat might have on 'im."

"No shit!" Happy snarled.

"Whaddya waitin' for, 24601! An engraved invitation? Move it!"

"A'right!" Tig called to the guard, crossing the cafeteria in a few strides. He slipped past the guard into the hallway, glancing around to make sure the guard hadn't brought 'friends.'

"Start movin', asshole!" The guard barked. "You know where we're goin'!" He fell into step directly behind Tig.

"Is my lawyer here?"

"You'll find out soon enough!" The guard snapped.

"I can see why the guys were a little uneasy," Cat snorted in amusement. The smile didn't last long as the significance of the day settled between them. "I'm surprised Moore dared pull such a stunt."

"It was a mind game. He lost," Alex shrugged.

"Did you enjoy your lunch?"

"More like breakfast here, but it was good," he admitted. "Lowen's full of surprises. When ya said she'd bring lunch, I didn't expect a warm meat loaf sandwich and the whiskey blend!"

"I figured y'all were gettin' fed up with jail food and their poor excuse for coffee," she remarked saucily. "I forgot to ask her to bring a Snicker Bar Cheesecake. Sorry about that."

Alex held up the plastic wrapped treat and grinned slyly. "Somebody remembered, and I plan to enjoy this later!"

"Thanks, Ally," Cat nodded gratefully at the lawyer.

"Don't thank me. That wunderkind assistant manager of yours thought of it. He also made sure Tig's shirt was properly washed and ironed and made the coffee was good and hot for the trip here."

Cat's grin widened. "I owe that boy a raise, considerin' all he's done lately."

"Don't go overboard, baby," Alex retorted. "He didn't do that much!"

Cat and Ally both developed coughing spasms that made Alex's eyes narrow in suspicion. "Is there somethin' you broads aren't tellin' me?"

"No love," Cat gasped, pounding her chest. "I think I inhaled a dust speck."

"Me too!" Ally choked.

Alex glared suspiciously from his wife to the lawyer. He didn't believe them for a minute. Something other than a dust speck had caused them to choke at the same time. He knew from experience not to try to force a confession out of Cat. She could be obstinate when she wanted to, and he didn't want to push her at the moment. 'You will come clean eventually, woman!'

Mrs. York entered the funeral home just as Cat's cousin erupted into histrionics. 'At least I don't have to ask which room to go to!' She winced, sympathizing with her friend's situation. 'It seems like there's always one or two people who have to act up at a funeral!'

She signed in at the guest register, and slipped a check into one of the memorial gift envelopes. The money amounted to the deposit refund Cat had refused for the two apartments she'd rented from her. Though Cat wanted her friend to use the money for the youth center, Mrs. York had decided to use it to honor Rev. Marshall, a man she had greatly admired for his quiet and strong faith. 'His being an IU fan helped, too!' She smiled reminiscently.

She walked towards the front of the room where Blaine Marshall lay in his casket, pausing to examine the pictures and cards displayed on a nearby table. Across the room, a large screen television showed images of Blaine as a child on a farm, graduating college, being a husband, father, and minister. There were pictures of him working the farm as an adult, watching IU and Cubs games, taking family vacations, and preaching, both during his wedded life to Mrs. Humphries and later to Miriam.

The packed room told Mrs. York just how well loved and admired Cat's father had been. Before she approached the casket, a small woman dressed in a smart blue dress suit walked up to her. "I'm Flora, Cat's aunt. Blaine was my brother."

"I'm Mrs. York, Cat's friend from Indianapolis. I met her father at a few IU games. He was quite a man of faith," she replied, shaking hands with Flora.

"I'm afraid Cat's a little busy at the moment," Flora stated, glancing over her shoulder at her daughter, who was holding on to Cat like a life preserver, crying about losing her 'Unkie Bain'.

"I notice," Mrs. York replied sympathetically. "It's not an easy time for any of you. I'm so sorry for your loss."

'You can say that again!' Flora winced inwardly. "You're too kind," she murmured, escorting Mrs. York towards the casket while her nephews pried her daughter away from Cat, who grabbed her laptop and escaped the room.

"Perhaps you'll have a chance to speak to her after the service," Flora explained as they neared the casket. "She's got to set up a video conference so her husband can attend the service. He's overseas on a contract job."

"She mentioned that when she was in Indianapolis," Mrs. York confirmed. "Quite a world we live in these days!"

"Yes, that's true," Flora sighed. "I'll leave you to have a private moment with my brother."

Mrs. York stood a few moments in front of the casket, thinking of the always cheerful man she'd encountered at the IU games. There was no smile on his face and the twinkling blue eyes were closed for eternity. 'If ever a man was assured of going directly to Heaven, it's him!'

'Brownie' smirked when he heard the woman's emotional outcry and witnessed her fierce embrace of his nemesis. 'I hope that makes little pussycat hurt like Hell!' He bent his head until he gained control of his emotions in case the bikers were watching him. He glanced out the corner of his eye to find that they weren't paying attention to him. Instead, their eyes were locked on the display going on at the front of the room.

He made use of the distraction to find a seat as far in the back of the large parlor as possible. There weren't very many empty seats left. He settled for one that was in the middle of a row, hoping that if the bikers wanted to mess with him, the civilians around him would prevent it.

"I've always said funerals bring out the worst in people," the woman to his left murmured.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am?" He replied quietly, using a deeper tone of voice than usual.

"That woman carrying on about Rev. Marshall," the woman sniffed disapprovingly. "It was all an act. I'm glad those two men escorted her out."

'Brownie' looked up just as Georgia returned. "Looks like she's come back, just like a bad penny," he remarked.

"She seems to be behaving better," the woman snorted, watching the previously distraught woman greet Blaine's widow. She turned her body slightly in 'Brownie's' direction to add, "What's your connection, if you don't mind my asking?"

'I do, but that's not gonna stop ya,' he thought. He forced his irritation down to reply in a neutral tone, "Just a friend of the family. And you?"

The woman smiled slightly. "I guess turnabout is fair play. I'm Adair Saggs, from Muncie. My mother was a good friend of Cat's, and she's always been like an aunt to me."

'So you're June's brat! Not a bad looker. Wouldn't mind tappin' that; it would drive June apeshit.' He looked turned his body so that he could better appreciate his neighbor's presentation. "Is your mother here?" He hoped not. June was pretty smart and had an uncanny ability to recognize him whenever he wore a disguise.

Adair shook her head, though it worried her that the man showed such a sudden interest in her and her mother. "I'm afraid not."

"I'm quite pleased to meet you, Ms. Saggs," the stranger replied, holding his hand out to her. "

"Mrs." She replied. She took the proffered hand in hers and shook it a couple of times before releasing her grip. His hand was firm but very cold, as if he'd just been rummaging around in a freezer. A chill went up her spine from the contact. Though the man was smiling, his eyes glittered with cold intent. She wanted to change seats, but didn't know how to do so without appearing rude.

She relaxed when she spotted a uniformed deputy walk in and strike up a conversation with two of the denim clad men Adair had met earlier, part of a group of six similarly garbed men. Cat laughingly warned them that Adair was like a niece to her and married. She had a feeling there was something more to the group's presence than met the eye, but she didn't ask and her 'aunt' didn't elaborate. The fact that the men were there and had a protective, guarded air about them made her feel safe. She decided against asking her neighbor for his name and pretended to be intent on finding something in her purse.

Tig shrugged and continued to the admin area. He remained alert and ready to react to any threat until they reached the reception area. Ally Lowen rose from a leather chair and greeted him with a small but sad smile.

"I'm turning the prisoner over to you, Ms. Lowen," the guard stated in a more congenial manner.

"Thank you," Ally replied quietly. She waited until the guard left to address her client. "I've got a change of shirt for you, and some lunch," she indicated the items waiting on a nearby chair beside her computer case.

"How long do we have?" Tig inquired, following the lawyer into Moore's inner sanctum.

"Enough time for you to eat and change your shirt if you don't waste it yapping, sweetheart," the lawyer retorted. She handed over a cardboard drink carrier with an aluminum cup and a small bag. He opened the bag to discover a foil wrapped sandwich and plastic wrapped slice of Snickers Bar Cheesecake from 'Charming Pawse'. The cup contained the whiskey blend from the coffehouse.

"How-?" He looked up at the lawyer, shooting a quizzical look at her.

"Don't ask questions, eat!" She grinned. "We lawyers have a few tricks up our sleeves."

Tig grinned and held the cup in a snappy salute at the lawyer before taking a long, satisfying pull from it. The brew tasted better than he remembered. "This is great, doll," he grinned. He unwrapped the foil package to find a still warm meatloaf sandwich inside. He took a large bite, chewed, and closed his eyes to savor the taste.

While Tig indulged in gastronomic orgasm, Ally set up the computer on the warden's desk and activated the video conference program, which was preset to access Cat's account. She waited for the connection to be made, only to get an error message. "Damn! I'll have to try again," she muttered.

Alex finished his sandwich and changed from the prison shirt to a long sleeved black shirt the lawyer had laid out for him. He glanced at the computer, which had failed to connect again to Cat's account. "Maybe this won't work after all," he observed worriedly.

"It'll work," Ally assured him. "She's probably been delayed by people attending the pre - service visitation."

"I guesso," Tig sighed. He sat back in the chair to allow the lawyer more room to work the program. Eventually they were rewarded with Cat's pale features on the screen.

"I'm really sorry that I can't leave Tig to view the service in private," Ally explained at the end of the SAA's narrative. "But I'll sit over on the couch, well out of camera range."

"Y'all are welcome to watch the service, if it's OK with Tig," Cat replied, acknowledging the lawyer with a small smile.

"It's a'right with me," Tig shrugged.

"I'll call y'all back if we lose the connection when I take this thing into the parlor for the service," she explained. A smirk crossed her face as she stood up. "Incidentally, love, you're listed in the prayer card as an honorary pall bearer along with Jan." She grabbed the laptop, lowered the screen a bit, and unlocked the door to the lounge, listening to her husband growl helplessly in response to her announcement.

Officer Downe backed his police motorcycle in place in front of the parked hearse, killed the engine, and dismounted. It had been a long time since he'd performed a funeral escort, much less ridden a motorcycle, which he'd borrowed from a fellow officer.

He placed his helmet on the seat of the bike and walked through the front entrance of the funeral home. He removed his sunglasses upon entry, allowing his eyes to adjust to the change in light. He could hear the murmur of voices coming from one of the viewing rooms and followed the sound to the doorway.

'Yup, this is the place. I wonder if my father dared show his face?' He signed the guestbook and picked up one of the prayer cards, along with a donation envelope before wandering towards two of the denim clad bikers.

"Howdy, guys," Downe greeted the pair. "Can I talk to all of you for a moment?"

Grim and BZ exchanged looks before signaling their brothers to follow them and the policeman out of the room. One by one the outlaws left to congregate in the lobby entrance of the funeral home where they could talk unobserved.

"Is there a problem, Officer?" BZ quietly inquired.

"None," Downe replied after introducing himself to the group. "Mrs. Trager – Cat – told me about y'all. Noticed your bikes parked outside and wanted to see if you were interested in following me to lead the hearse to the cemetery."

"Like an honor guard?" Black Robin asked.

Downe nodded. "I don't see why not."

"We were planning to ride at the back of the line, Guv," Cavey explained. "But if you don't think the funeral folks would mind – "

"I already cleared it with 'em," Downe assured the group. "It'll be nice not to be the only one on a bike."

"You're not just here to escort the procession to the cemetery, are ya?" Mudball observed.

'Not for the reason you think,' Downe shook his head. "I wanted to pay my respects."

"Cat's in the family lounge, she'll be out shortly," Shank replied. "The service will be startin' in a few minutes."

"Incidentally, a couple of Cat's biker friends from Indy rode down, we invited 'em to ride with us to the cemetery," BZ explained. "Is it OK for them to ride with us?"

"Hell, yeah!" Downe grinned. "We'll give him a roaring good escort!"

The group returned to the parlor, the outlaws resuming their posts along the room. Officer Downe gazed around the large room, looking for anyone suspicious. He knew his sperm donor wouldn't be using the same disguise he'd used at the local hospital, and there was always the chance that he wouldn't show up at all. 'Yet, I can't see him passing up a chance to annoy Mrs. Trager, the restraining order doesn't phase him at all!' He walked to the casket and gazed down at the still form lying in repose. 'I wish I could've done more to make up for my father's sins against you and your daughter,' he thought. 'Rest assured I'll be on the watch for him today, and if she shows up, I'll do more than send him packing!' He sighed and turned away. 'Finding him is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack!'

He chose to stand in a corner at the front of the room near the podium, making the reason for his presence obvious. It was a prime position to allow him to examine the faces of the seated mourners for any resemblance to his infamous parent. It also was a good position to protect Cat and her family if the need arose.

Georgia strode back into the funeral parlor with her head held high and eyes blazing with anger. The only other sign of her inner agitation was a reddish glow to her cheeks from her male cousins criticism of her earlier display of grief. Her mother, Flora, started towards her, but the angry glare Georgia threw at her prevented Flora from following through on her intent. 'How dare Geoff and Alan Jr., accuse me of not loving 'Unkie Bain'! Both of my uncles spent the time they once gave me to their daughters and it wasn't fair! How come they got time with their fathers when mine was absent?'

She calmed down long enough to greet her step aunt Miriam, giving the new widow a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek after telling Miriam she was Blaine's eldest niece.

"That's right! You're named after a state!" Miriam smiled.

"And for my grandma Marshall," Georgia replied, "I'll not take up much of your time, but I'll talk to you later." She strode away from Miram without acknowledging her step - cousins and their familiesat her mother, Flora, preventing her from offering a word of greeting and marched to a chair in the family section that was placed as far from her cousins and mother as she could get. She sat ramrod straight, feet planted firmly on the floor.

Her husband settled in the vacant chair next to her and slipped a consoling arm around her shoulders. He sensed the turmoil agitating his wife, but she angrily shrugged his arm away. He sighed in resignation and clasped his hands in his lap, keeping his gaze on the casket. He had been embarrassed by her behavior earlier and relieved when her male cousins escorted her from the viewing room. He had reminded her to behave herself when they arrived at the funeral home, but his wife never paid much attention to him. He'd grown used to it over the years; it was easier to give in than to stand up to her. He led his life, and she led hers.

He tried earlier to offer an apology to his step – in laws for his wife's histrionics. Both Jan and Daniel waved it away as unnecessary. "People have their own ways of reacting to a funeral," Daniel added. "No harm done."

Despite their assurances, every muscle in his body tensed when his wife returned to the parlor after the conference with her male cousins. She stood in front of her uncle's coffin for a few moments, making him wonder what kind of stunt she'd pull next. He relaxed when she remained calm and quiet, and then decorously greeted her step – aunt with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

'Brownie' looked up from the prayer card straight into his son's eyes. A chill raced up his spine, though he kept his expression calm and reserved. He couldn't help wondering why the uniformed officer was present until his son took up a position near the podium. 'He's obviously here to look out for Fat Fuck!' Though his 'Evan' disguise had fooled his son once, there was no guarantee that his new disguise would do so. 'That bitch obviously told him about my disguises! He's really got his radar working!'

Officer Downe, who had once been his 'Mouse', was wearing a motorcycle cop's uniform. 'Brownie' felt a moment's jealousy that his son was able to enjoy a pleasure denied him for many years. 'That's gonna change before long!' He promised himself.

He coolly matched his son's intense gaze for several seconds, including a slight nod of acknowledgment. 'I just hope he doesn't get suspicious of me for bein' the only dark skinned person present!' He drew courage from his many years of being on the wrong side of the law to remain calm under his grown child's scrutiny.

Officer Downe returned the slight nod and moved his focus to another face. 'Brownie' didn't show any outward relief though he felt pretty good to have passed not only the bikers' scrutiny, but that of his son's. 'Don't get cocky!' He scolded himself. 'The day's still young; you don't wanna give them a reason to study you!'

Officer Downe was intrigued to find a dark skinned male sitting amongst the mourners. The skin tone was enough to draw his attention due to his father's expertise at disguises. 'Not that there would be any reason for a dark skinned person not to attend Rev. Marshall's funeral; he served a church that catered to the ethnic crowd at VU. But it wouldn't surprise me if my sperm donor used that as a cover!'

He stared intently at the man, who met his gaze without any sign of nervousness, even going so far as to give the officer a slight nod. Downe returned the nod, satisfied that the man was legit. 'No matter how experienced the old man might be, there's no way he'd be able to be that cool around me!' Downe assured himself, moving his gaze to another unfamiliar face.

Cat grinned as Alex continued to sputter and growl over being named an honorary pall bearer. "Hush, love! The service is goin' to start soon!"

"Dammit, Cat! I didn't expect this!" Alex protested. "I don't deserve it!"

"You two can discuss it later," Ally interjected, laying a soothing hand on the SAA's arm. The screen was slightly dark, but they could hear soft music piped through the sound system. A few moments later, the screen brightened and they both felt a sense of being in a mild earthquake as Cat settled the laptop in the chair next to hers, enabling them to see the entire front of the parlor, including Blaine's casket.

"He was quite a handsome man," Ally noted softly.

Alex nodded in agreement. "You wouldn't know it to look at him now, but he was a positive guy. No matter how weak and sick he felt, he never was outta sorts."

"That's rare these days," Ally replied.

A body passed in front of the laptop camera. Though it was a fleeting image, Alex had no trouble recognizing his daughter.

"I thought Cat was an only child!" Ally whispered.

"She is. That's my kid, Dawn," he smirked.

Following an introductory call to order and announcement about Alex's presence, the minister assigned to the church Blaine had placed his final membership in gave a brief eulogy before opening up the floor to anyone who wished to share memories about Rev. Marshall.

His brother, Alan, Sr., was the first to speak. Tall, gray – haired, and obviously grief – stricken by his older brother's passing, he was unable to keep the tears from flowing as he spoke of his brother.

The next person that stepped up to the podium was a certified lay speaker who had co – directed a week of high school summer church camps with Blaine at one of the Conference owned locations. He spoke of their mutual enjoyment of the out of doors and how Blaine had encouraged and supported him when he felt the urge to serve the Conference.

"Of course a certified lay speaker can't conduct marriage ceremonies, nor can we officiate at communion services, but we can visit the sick, and we can serve churches that need a leader," the man explained. "When there is need, an ordained member of the Conference can step in to do those services that we layman can't."

A few more people spoke of their own connection to Blaine. To Cat's relief, her eldest cousin wasn't one of them. She had asked the officiating ministers to let her be the last to speak before they resumed the service. "Did you want to say anything, Dawn?" She inquired softly before going up to the podium.

Alex's eyes widened with surprise. He doubted his daughter would want to speak in front of a room full of strangers. What surprised him was that his wife would extend the offer to his wayward child. 'I really gotta quit underestimating her!'

"No, Cat. Thanks for offering," Dawn whispered back. "You go ahead."

Cat rose from her chair and stepped to the lectern. She carried a black leather folder in her gloved hands. Only a few people knew that the gloves actually covered and cushioned bandages from injuries sustained a few days earlier when a wayward pick up nearly collided with her motorcycle.

'I can't see any sign of bruises on her face. Must've used makeup shit to cover 'em. Bet those gloves must be uncomfortable, though they're doin' a good job of coverin' the scrapes on her hands,' Alex mused, his attention was so focused on his wife that he didn't notice when the lawyer moved to the sofa across the office. 'I can't get over her arrangin' this for me and thinkin' of my comfort level!' He'd been nervous over the prospect of being seen by the mourners during the entire service. As usual, he'd worried for no reason.

He glanced again at the casket, which was pale blue with brass handles and the traditional white cloth interior. A single red rose with a black ribbon secured by a crystal rested at the head of the casket, just above the pillow cushioning Blaine's head. An orange and white striped stuffed cat had been placed in the casket near the minister's shoulder.

'That's the critter she sent to him for his birthday,' Alex recalled, suppressing an involuntary shudder at the sight of the plush animal. 'She told me he had it with him at the hospital. Wonder how much comfort it gave him?' He couldn't suppress a grin over the casket spray of red and white carnations – the unmistakable colors of Blaine's alma mater, Indiana University. 'I'm surprised she didn't have a Chicago Cubs sticker applied to the damn thing!'

Cat looked at Alex's face, drawing courage and strength from his video presence. She took a deep breath and opened the folder which contained her notes. "The greatest compliment Daddy ever gave me was when he asked me to write his funeral notice for the Conference minutes. It's a brief history of his life and ministry. Some of you today will hear some familiar passages from the retirement narrative I made a few years ago. This time it's live instead of Memorex."

Many in the room laughed softly at the joke, a reference to an old commercial for audio tape. Cat had been unable to be present for her father's retirement service due to work requirements, so she'd pre - recorded the narration that accompanied the slide show reviewing her father's ministry.

Alex grinned at her comment. He'd watched that video months ago which had given him more insights to his father – in – law. 'I don't blame her for relyin' on that!'

"I want to thank all of you for takin' time to honor my father," she continued. "Some of y'all have gone to a lot of trouble to be here, and that means a lot to me and the rest of the family." She gazed at the laptop and smiled slightly at Alex, who gave her an encouraging smile in return. She didn't have to explain the presence of the computer; one of the officiating ministers had already mentioned that Alex wasn't able to get leave from his overseas employer to attend in person.

She looked out over the seated mourners and noticed that her eldest cousin was frowning intently. 'Wonder what has her drawers in a wad now?' She glanced down at the podium for a moment to remind her that her cousin's behavior wasn't important. She had a duty to perform and silently prayed she'd make it through the eulogy without breaking down.

"Mr. Trager was unable to get time off from his current assignment to be here in person," the minister explained, pointing out the laptop sitting next to Cat's chair. "Fortunately, due to the world wide web and wi – fi, he's able to share this with us."

'Brownie' bit back a contemptuous snort of derision. 'Current assignment my ass! He's the reason those outlaws beat the tar outta me in the first place, 'cause he's locked up somewhere!' He wrestled with the urge to call out the lie. As much as he wanted to embarrass Cat, it wasn't worth giving the bikers and his son a reason to get interested in him. 'Best to let Cat think she's pullin' the wool over everybody's eyes with that fable,' he decided, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out over the seated crowd before him.

He tuned out the service from that moment on. He had no interest in hearing people praise Blaine Marshall. 'The old fuck was never good to me!' He bitterly recalled. Instead he let his mind wander back over the pleasant hours he'd spent the previous day, before everything went haywire.

The minute the head librarian locked the entry door to the massive old building, she let her hair out of the stiff bun and shook her head to allow the long locks to flow freely past her shoulders. "God! That's much better!" She sighed, flipping off the entry lights.

'Brownie' was stunned by the change in the woman's appearance. Without the bun, her face was softer and more alluring. His dick readily agreed, making him glad he was sitting where she wouldn't see his evident interest, which was as reassuring as it was embarrassing. 'There can't be any permanent damage if Peter can act like that!' He concentrated on the titles of the shelf full of anthropology books so that his cock would settle down.

"So," the librarian stopped near the computer area, smiling tentatively at him. "Are you all right?" She wasn't sure if his frown was intended for her. 'Maybe he's changed his mind!'

His frown disappeared and he smiled reassuringly at her. "Sure! I was just thinking about something I read on line."

"Oh!" She smiled wider. "You know that not everything on the internet is true, don't you?"

"Of course, but it was still kinda interesting," he replied, rising from his chair and turning off the computer. "So what's on the agenda for tonight?"

"Oh, I thought you might like a home cooked meal," she replied coyly. "I'm really not interested in going to a restaurant, what with dealing with the public all day."

'Brownie' didn't need any prodding to accept the invitation. He'd be able to case the librarian's home to see what valuables might be worth taking when she wasn't looking. "Sounds like a plan to me!"

They walked out the library employee entrance into the parking lot. One lone vehicle, a SUV, waited on them. The librarian slipped her hand into the crook of his arm as they walked to the car. "That's my baby," she explained. "It comes in handy for the stuff I have to cart for presentations at schools."

"Do you do those often?"

"Not really," she shrugged, removing her hand from his arm to unlock the doors with the key fob. A sudden thought made her drop her hand to her side before unlocking the vehicle. "You know, we haven't even told each other our names!"

"Evan," he smiled and offered his hand for a handshake.

"Susan," she grinned, taking his hand in hers and giving it a shake.

Her hand was warm and soft in his. He squeezed her hand for a moment before releasing it, wondering if the rest of her was just as warm and soft.

"Now that we know each other, how about getting something to eat?" He suggested. His stomach growled at that same moment to empathize his hunger.

Susan grinned and unlocked the doors, "Hop in, Evan! We'll get you fed in no time!"

Susan's house was a single story ranch, complete with attached garage. She left him alone in what she called her entertainment center while she started the meal. His eyes eagerly roamed his surroundings,taking in the furnishings that were cozy but not overly feminine. "Do you have any pets?" He called.

"No, I wanted a dog, but work takes a lot out of me, and I'm allergic to cats," she called back.

"Got any family in town?"

"They live out of state, so we won't be bothered, if that's what's worrying you," Susan replied from the doorway leading to the kitchen.

"Not worried, just curious," he reassured her.

"I've got the food started, if you'd be kind enough to keep an eye on it while I get out of these work clothes," she explained, pointing towards the kitchen behind her. "There's beer in the refrigerator if you want some."

She glided close to him and lay her hand on his chest. She gazed deeply into his eyes and purred, "I won't be long, just make yourself at home," she purred.

'Brownie' watched her walk down the hall to disappear into her bedroom. He noticed that she didn't close the door and smiled slyly. 'I intend to!'

Ally could hear the service from the sofa in Warden Moore's office, and she grew increasingly uncomfortable at the sight of Tig fighting to keep his grief under control. Every so often, she caught a fleeting glimpse of his feelings and realized that men like him considered showing grief over a loss to civilians as a sign of weakness. The strain was wearing on him.

Ally had learned many things about the club since she took over the account, including the fact that they weren't heartless Neanderthals. They were just uncomfortable showing the so – called 'weak' emotions in front of people they weren't close to. She sensed that Tig was holding back because of her.

'It's bad enough he can't be there in person, the last thing he needs is an audience!' Ally concluded. 'It's not like anyone's outside to rat me out for leaving him alone in here!' She scrawled a note on her legal pad, stood up, and placed the sheet on the desk next to Tig.

He glanced questioningly up at her, then at the yellow sheet of paper and the brief note. He read it and gave her a nod of gratitude. Ally squeezed his shoulder and slipped away as quietly as she'd approached and stepped out the door into the reception area. Just as she suspected, there were no guards in the outer waiting area. The secretary was also gone. She sat down in a chair to wait for the service to end and read over her file for her upcoming meeting with Otto.

Alex relaxed his guard the moment the door closed behind Lowen. He appreciated her compassionate gesture. Watching the funeral service for his father in law was difficult enough while keeping his emotions in check for her benefit. He didn't realize how much he would miss Blaine until he saw the body in the casket. His concentration had been focused on remaining stoic when he wanted to bang his fists on the desk.

His mind went back to the two weeks he'd spent with Cat at his father in law's home, getting to know and accept the man and receiving the same courtesy. 'He was quite a hugger. That first time he hugged me nearly scared me!' He recalled with a sad smile. 'First time I'd been hugged by a guy outside of the club in years! The minute he saw me, he made me feel welcome.'

Alex smiled at times and burst out laughing at his wife's recollections of life with her father. She told of an early life lesson in courtesy she'd learned at the tender age of five that made him grin with amusement. 'I can just picture the sight of him instructing little Cat in courtesy! I bet she pouted her way through that apology!' He also enjoyed her telling of their second wedding in Blaine's backyard

'Blaine wasn't too impressed when he heard 'Forever in Blue Jeans' blaring outta the house when her cousin walked her outside to give her away,' Alex recalled. 'But he didn't let it bother him too much. I remember that he rolled his eyes and went on with the thing as if nothing unusual was going on!'

"Daddy enjoyed the original 'Star Trek' series," Cat continued, coming to the end of her remarks. "He felt it gave hope for the future of our planet. He especially felt drawn to the Spock character, because of the fine line between human emotion and Vulcan logical stoicism that Spock walked each day. Ministers have a fine line to walk too, as their every move and word is subject to scrutiny every minute."

Alex nodded in agreement with her assessment. 'I've never taken to religion; every minister I ever ran into had the 'do what I say' attitude, but didn't lead by example. Blaine was different. He walked the walk and talked the talk without shoving his beliefs down my throat.'

He recalled that awful night when Cat was injured by Weston and his cronies. He'd dreaded calling his father in law with the news, but he made himself reach out. 'We didn't know then if she was gonna make it or not, but he was calm about it, and then he asked if he could pray with me. It surprised me; no one had ever asked for my permission like that. Usually they just do it and expect me to lump it!' Alex shook his head slightly. 'Never told anyone about it. He made a difference that night.'

Unaware of her husband's thoughts, Cat continued, "In the second movie, after Spock died to save the USS Enterprise from destruction, Captain Kirk is standing in front of the projection screen, looking at the newly formed Genesis planet where Spock's body was laid to rest. I believe it was Doctor McCoy who stood next to Kirk and spoke these comforting words: 'He's not really gone, you know, as long as we remember'." Cat closed her folder and blew a kiss at the casket.

Alex wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt as she limped back to her seat. He was proud of his wife for making it through her part of the service without breaking down. She had included humorous recollections and touched on their shared passions: IU basketball, Cubs baseball and all things Mopar. She had touched on his sense of humor, friendliness, and the tough times her father had endured that made his faith stronger instead of weakening it.

"A lot of people might've questioned their faith – or even turned away from God," She remarked. "Despite divorce, cancer, and professional disappointments, his faith never wavered."

'This has to be Hell for her; I'm havin' a difficult time myself!' Alex thought, caressing the bridge of his nose with one hand. He shared Cat's sense of devastation over the loss of her father. Tears formed in his eyes as he gazed at the still form in the coffin, aware that he would never hear Blaine call him 'Son' again, and how much that endearment meant to him.

The first time Rev. Marshall has referred to him as 'Son' was the day they met at the minister's home. Alex had been surprised, yet strangely warmed and pleased by the immediate acceptance he received in the form of a bear hug from his father – in law, followed by a sincere, hearty, 'Glad to meet you, Son."

'Blaine never gave me the stink eye, but we did have one of those 'man to man' talks fathers tend to want to have with the man in their daughter's life,' Alex recalled. 'It wasn't a 'come to Jesus' meeting, which he woulda been entitled to get into. He just wanted to make sure I'd do right by his little girl. My religious beliefs or lack of 'em never came up.'

He'd not felt that same feeling of acceptance from Nate Maddox, Gem's father. Alex had attributed the lack of paternal warmth on Nate's part to his battle with Altzheimers. 'It was likely the whole MC thing that put him off. He was really PO'd when he saw Jax and Clay in the kitchen wearing their cuts!'

He wondered if Blaine would've been more reserved had he known the truth about Alex's involvement in the MC, instead of the 'white lie' Cat had given him. 'I doubt Blaine would've treated me any different. As long as Cat was happy, that's what mattered to him.'

The minister asked the congregation to bow their heads for a moment of prayer and Alex complied. It was the last honor he could give a man he'd respected and would miss.

The librarian turned out to be a pleasurable distraction that night. She was a good cook and an excellent conversationalist. 'Of course, a librarian would know a lot about stuff!' Brownie smirked inwardly while Cat waxed poetic about her father.

There had been a brief moment of discomfort for him when she invited him to spend the night. She'd been sending signals all during dinner that she was interested in him sexually, but he knew his dick wasn't healed enough for it. Not only did he fear a condom would irritate the cuts the bikers had inflicted on him; but that the secretions the condom would hold could cause future problems.

He finally admitted to Susan that he couldn't perform as she wanted due to having undergone a recent surgical procedure. "Now that I've met you, I wish I'd waited."

Susan was visibly disappointed, then brightened and made a counter offer. "You can still stay the night. It's been a long time since I've had any kind of companionship."

'Man, this chick is desperate!' He sneered. 'But it'll give me plenty of time to scope out the joint once she's asleep. I just hope she's not a light sleeper.' He smiled gently at her and crooned, "I'd like that.".

They watched the late night news from Indianapolis, which had no mention of his earlier escapades. When the program ended, they retired to her bedroom which was as tastefully decorated as the rest of her house. No frilly lace doilies and pink hues to nauseate him. The bedroom consisted of rich wood paneling with built in bookcases filled with books and knickknacks. A large screen television was mounted to one wall across from the sturdy wooden bed. Plush grey carpet covered the floor.

"This is nice," he observed from the doorway. He leaned against the door frame while she turned down the bed covers.

"I find it comforting," Susan replied. She gathered her nightwear in a bundle and headed to the master bath. "I'll be out shortly, if you want to get comfortable."

"Do you have another bathroom? "

"Just down the hall," she grinned.

"Thanks," he mumbled, ambling down the hall to the smaller bathroom. He found some mouthwash in the medicine cabinet and used it to freshen his breath after using the facilities.

Susan was sitting in the bed with the covers pulled up to her lap when he returned to the bedroom. "I'm afraid I don't have any spare PJs that would fit."

"That's OK," he assured her while he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the nearby arm chair. "I sleep in my underwear anyway."

She blushed at his comment and lowered her eyes to her lap.

'Brownie' turned his back to remove his jeans and hide a smirk. 'She has the soul of a slut with the heart of a virgin!' He wished his dick was in top performance mode. He wouldn't mind tapping her.

When he turned around to climb into bed, his eyes widened with surprise to find that Susan had shed her nightgown. Her breasts were exposed to him, looking as plump and ripe as peaches. "Just because you had a procedure doesn't mean we can't have a little fun with each other!" Susan remarked, her eyes widening in concern at the sight of the cuts and bruises on his chest and stomach. "What did that doctor do to you?"

"You don't have to invite me twice!" He grinned slyly, sliding into bed beside her. "Don't mind the scrapes and bruises; I got robbed after being released from the hospital. The jerks really worked me over," he added. His dick had grown hard at the sight of her bare torso, but he managed to get into bed without her noticing it.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, laying a light hand on the large purple bruise on his stomach.

"Not anymore," he replied huskily, slipping his arms around her shoulders so that the bare peaks pushed against his chest. Despite being unable to partake of all the fruits Susan offered, 'Brownie' savored what he could. If the moans, groans, and screams erupting from Susan were any indication, she had little to complain about.

Later that night, while Susan lay sprawled on her stomach sound asleep, he crept from the bed to fully scout out the house. He took detailed mental notes of where she kept easy to hide items like jewelry and money, plus any small electronics. 'She just has a standard dead bolt lock. Not easy to card, but not so tough to kick in. I can come back while she's at work and help myself!'

He made sure that there were no security cameras anywhere in the house before returning to the bed. Susan hadn't moved during his absence. He snuggled up against her back, sliding his arm under her so he could play with her breasts until he fell asleep.

Trouble reared its' ugly head the next morning over breakfast. Susan served up a desire to see him again along with his scrambled eggs and coffee.

'I've gotta kill that idea before it takes root!' He thought, clutching his coffee cup as if it were a shield to ward off evil. "I'm afraid that's impossible, babe. I'm not stayin' around here long."

"You could get a job here, and eventually move in with me," she suggested boldly. "In fact, the library could use a guy like you. It pays minimum wage, but is steady!" She waggled her eyebrows coyly at him and added, "Not to mention the great fringe benefit!"

"Why are you so fixed on havin' me stay with you?" He inquired point blank, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I like you, 'Evan'. And last night was wonderful! It's the first time someone's given me such a rush without expecting anything in return!"

'Brownie' nearly choked on his coffee. 'I hate it when these bitches get clingy after one night!' He set the coffee cup down and cleared his throat. "Thing is, babe, I've got a job waitin' for me in Hendersonville, KY. It pays more than minimum wage. If my car hadn't broken down, I wouldn't have needed to stay the night. That's why I was at the library, looking for an inexpensive room to stay in."

"Is that where you went after you left the library?" She inquired, trying to hide her disappointment over his refusal of her job offer. After all, if he had a good job waiting for him, he'd be a fool to accept one that only paid minimum wage.

"Yeah. The damn place was already full, and I couldn't afford the big brand names. I've got enough to get me to Hendersonville and get a room at the Y or something."

"What would you have done if I hadn't invited you to stay last night?" She asked sullenly.

"Probably slept in the park. I've camped out plenty of times; it's not bad when the weather's good," he assured her, fighting to keep his patience with her. He had to keep up the pretense that he liked her and wished circumstances were different if he intended to clean her out later and get away scot free.

"Hendersonville isn't that far away," she mused. "Maybe I could come to visit once you're settled."

"Maybe," he shrugged. "The car's supposed to be ready today, and I only have a couple of days to find a place to live before work starts. It's gonna be a few weeks before I'm ready to entertain. How about if I call you once I'm settled and we'll discuss it further?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, 'Brownie' knew he'd made a mistake. Susan's face clouded over and her eyes blazed with anger. "I get it 'Don't call us, we'll call you.' All I was to you was a convenience!"

'Brownie' stood up and walked around the table to her. His hand closed under her chin and forced her face up to meet his. "I didn't say that, babe. I like you, but things just aren't settled in my life right now. I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Is that so wrong?"

Susan's eyes misted over. "I guess not," she sniffled. "It just sounded like you were brushing me off."

"Far from it, babe," he assured her, bending down to give her a quick kiss on the lips. "Now go wash those tears off your face and repair your face; you don't wanna be streaky for work. I'll clear up."

Susan smiled mistily and hurried off to the bathroom. 'Brownie' made quick work of the breakfast remains. He didn't worry about the length of time Susan was taking to freshen up, it gave him the chance to get a head start on cleaning her out as he intended. He reached into an antique rainbow colored glass container on top of the refrigerator and removed the wad of bills he'd found there the night before. 'Just in case I have to haul ass outta town and can't come back for the rest of the loot! That chick wants to get her hooks in me and that's givin' me the heebie – jeebies.'

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" Susan cried from the kitchen doorway. Her eyes blazed with anger at catching him in the act.

'Brownie' thought up a quick response. "I called the garage while you were occupied; the repair's gonna cost more than anticipated; figured you wouldn't mind loanin' me a little cash."

"You could've asked instead of helping yourself!" She snarled. "How'd you know where I keep my back money anyway?"

"Women always hide money in the kitchen," he shrugged. "Look, I was gonna ask you the minute you came back!"

"I haven't heard you ask and I've been back several minutes!" She snarled. "I'm really disappointed in you, Evan. Up until a few minutes ago, I'd never have believed you were capable of stealing from anyone, much less from me!"

"I'm not stealin' from ya!" He protested. "I know it looks bad –"

"Oh, you bet it looks bad, especially when a person does an internet search. You weren't very convincing about making more of this than a one night stand, so I decided to check you out. I found some very interesting info about you and have a feeling the authorities will be happy to catch up with you!" She lifted the receiver from the kitchen wall phone and proceeded to dial.

'Brownie' reacted without thinking. He grabbed a knife from the wood block on the counter and ran up behind her. He intended to scare her and knock the phone out of her hand. Instead, a red haze of rage fell over him and before he knew it, Susan was laying on the floor with the knife sticking out of her chest. The receiver clattered to the floor while Susan's eyes widened in pain and fear. Blood slid down her side and pooled on the floor. The dial tone was replaced by a hideous screeching noise, indicating the line had been left open too long. "Help me!" Susan whispered.

"No time for that shit, sister!" He grinned evilly. He raced through the house, gathering everything of value he could and stuffing them in a pillow case before returning to the kitchen to lord his treachery over her. "Know what the problem is with you women? Ya think bein' eaten out entitles ya to collar a man! Guess you didn't like my excuses; why else would ya check me out on the internet? Well, they say curiosity killed the cat, and you're one dead pussy!" He snarled disdainfully. "And the pussy wasn't really that tasty!" He picked up the knife, wrapped it in a towel, and strode towards the door. He opened it, and threw a jaunty "Hasta le vista, baby!" over his shoulder before stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind him.

Susan moaned and tried to reach the receiver. She couldn't hear the screeching off the hook signal. 'If I could just pull myself up along the door frame, I can call for help!' Her body wouldn't obey her mental commands and all she could do was roll over onto her side. Her last thought before she slipped into permanent darkness was to curse herself for her stupidity.

Adair tried hard to pay attention to the service, but she was painfully aware of the dark skinned man sitting next to her. The cold glint in his eyes didn't match the grief on his face and that made her nervous. She was startled when he made a derisive noise when the minister explained 'Uncle Tig's' absence. 'Now why would he react like that?' she wondered, glancing out the corner of her eye at her neighbor.

The man in question sat still, arms folded across his chest, eyes staring straight ahead. She grew more nervous as the service progressed and he made no reaction to any of the stories being shared about Rev. Marshall. Her neighbor seemed to have his attention focused on something else, until he smirked when Cat began speaking. The smirk didn't last long, making her think she'd imagined it. 'Must just be my nerves! He's likely wrapped up in his own loss and I'm just being a ninny.'

Her reassuring thoughts didn't erase her nervousness. Adair wasn't the type of person to be bothered by differences in skin color or religious beliefs. There was definitely an aura of danger coming from the man that gave her a bad feeling about his presence. 'I'll talk to Aunt Cat about him later, especially if he goes to the burial,' she decided as she bowed her head for the prayer. 'She'll probably just tell me he's as harmless as a fly!'

'Brownie' seemed as oblivious to her discomfort as he was to the service. He didn't respond to the call to prayer, just continued sitting with his head up, eyes fixed straight ahead of him. 'Critter' felt another shiver creep up her spine. When the prayer ended, the funeral home staff motioned to their row to proceed to the front of the room for one last goodbye to Rev. Marshall. She sighed in relief to put some distance between herself and the man's disturbing presence, scrambling after the other occupants to the side aisle.

At the sound of her exhalation, 'Brownie' looked up as if he'd been napping, but then smiled sardonically at her before getting up from his chair and stepping out into the aisle behind her. She felt self - conscious about being in front of him. To her relief, the man suddenly stepped into the center aisle that separated the two seating areas and exited the room.

A relieved sigh rapidly brought 'Brownie's' attention back to the present. He was nearly alone in the row. The sigh had come from June's daughter, who was moving out into the side aisle to go to the front of the funeral parlor. From there, she'd take one last look at the deceased and then greet the family. He mumbled an apology to the person standing to his right and stood up, moving towards the aisle where one of the funeral home employees was standing.

'Brownie' fought the rising panic in his gut at the thought of having to face Blaine's family. He hoped he'd be able to pull it off, especially in front of his son. He didn't see any way out of it when he noticed some of the mourners ahead of Adair cutting across the large aisle that had been left open between the rows of chairs near the double doors. 'I'd thank God if I believed in Him!' he thought, ducking his head and ambling after towards the doorway and freedom. He didn't stop walking until he reached the parking lot, then he rushed to the truck to wait for the procession to the graveyard.

'What a crock!' He fumed, unlocking the door and settling behind the steering wheel. He loosened the constricting tie around his neck and inhaled deeply. He hated ties with a passion; he always felt like he was being strangled whenever he wore one and was glad to be able to loosen it for a while.

He watched the mourners walk slowly to their vehicles from the funeral home. Many of those vehicles were parked in three long lines to follow the hearse to the cemetery. Those vehicles had grey and white flags emblazoned with the word 'Funeral' attached to their hoods. A few vehicles were parked in regular parking spaces, indicating they weren't going to the cemetery.

'Brownie' had recognized the motorcycles parked off to one side of the lines of cars when he first arrived as belonging to Cat's outlaw posse. Two other bikes were parked with the Harleys; a yellow Goldwing and a black Yamaha. He knew those belonged to her two Indianapolis riding pals. 'In fact, that rice burner looks like the one she was ridin' when I tried to mow her down!'

He was debating whether it was a good idea to go to the cemetery as he'd planned when the outlaws and Cat's two friends sauntered towards the parked bikes and moved them to the front of the line directly behind a police motorcycle. To 'Brownie's' disgust, his son stood next to the cop bike, nodding approvingly as the bikers formed a double row. 'It's bad enough ya gotta be here, 'Mouse'! Do ya hafta rub my nose in the fact that you can ride when I can't? And today of all days!'

It seemed that it was taking a long time for the family to exit the funeral home. The last time funeral he'd attended - which was his wife's - he'd only been allowed a few seconds to say a final goodbye before he was hustled out of the parlor and the door shut behind him so his wife's casket could be prepared for burial. 'Those fucktards never give family enough time! She must be puttin' on quite a show for them got it to go on this long!'

The double doors leading from the funeral parlor to the driveway finally opened to reveal the closed casket laying on a brass dolly. 'Brownie' sneered as six men, presumably friends and family of the deceased, walked beside the coffin to the hearse. Another tall man, leaning on a cane, stood next to the open rear door of the hearse, obviously serving as an honorary pall bearer.

The remainder of the Marshall family, led by his nemesis, followed the casket and moved on to their waiting vehicles in the line. 'Brownie' wasn't surprised to watch a calm appearing Cat Marshall slide behind the wheel of a burgundy Chrysler, accompanied by the same young woman who'd been sitting beside her during the service. 'I knew she was puttin' on an act! She wouldn't be able to handle driving if she were really upset about the old fart!' He was intrigued by the dark haired girl accompanying his nemesis. 'Must be a step kid. Gal seems pretty devoted to the fat ass,' he mused. He tucked that tidbit of information away in his mind for future reference.

Engines cranked and roared to life, alerting him that the caravan was about to begin. He straightened up behind the steering wheel, turned the ignition key, and turned on his bright lights and flashers as the motorcycles, led by his son, pulled out into the street for Blaine Marshall's final journey.

Many of the people who filed past Blaine's casket and stopped to extend condolences to the family acknowledged Alex as well before they spoke to his wife. One young woman, who bore a resemblance to Cat's friend, June, leaned toward the laptop screen to speak directly to him. "Hi, 'Uncle' Tig, I'm Adair, June's daughter. You've probably heard them refer to me as 'Critter'. Sorry we had to meet like this."

"Me too, doll," he croaked. "Where's your Mom?"

"She just started a new assignment and couldn't get away. I wanted to be here for 'Aunt' Cat. Probably a poor substitute – "

"I don't wanna hear that, Critter!" Cat interjected. "You're an excellent substitute!"

"I agree," Alex stated a little less throatily. "Tell yer Mom I said 'hi' when you talk to her."

"I will, and you be safe over there!" Adair smiled.

"I certainly will, little girl," he replied, fighting back an ironic smile.

She nodded and moved on to hug Cat. "I'm sorry about your father, 'Aunt' Cat!" Adair exclaimed.

"Thanks, baby. I'll see you at the dinner later. Anyone gives you guff, y'all tell 'em to see me."

Several of Cat's family took a moment to speak to him as well. He accepted their warm condolences with a nod and friendly salute, finding himself unable to speak through the lump in his throat.

Not all of his wife's family was so accommodating. A tall, willowy blonde woman accompanied by a distinguished looking grey haired man Alex presumed was her husband gave him a venomous look before grabbing Cat and pulling her into a hard embrace. "Oh, Cat!" the woman wailed. "What am I going to do without 'Unkie Bain'?"

"Oof!" Cat grunted in discomfort. Georgia seemed to have a knack for aggravating her scrapes and bruises. "I guess we'll just have to find a way to live without him."

Alex's hand caressed the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure who the gash was, and he didn't really care that she'd disrespected him. It was obvious that she had a flair for drama. She'd blubbered all over Blaine's chest when she made her last goodbye at the coffin. 'I thought for a minute she was gonna climb inside!' Alex didn't let his expression mirror his thoughts. The grey haired man nodded cordially at him, gave Cat a gentle embrace and whispered something to her before following his weeping wife from the room.

Miriam Marshall had been subdued throughout the service until Daniel pushed her chair to the casket. She reached to touch her husband's hand and exclaimed, "He's cold! Why doesn't he have a blanket over him?"

"There's one around his legs, Mom," Daniel assured her.

"It don't look like he's going to wake up," she murmured softly. "Is that why everyone's sad?"

"Yes, Mom," Daniel replied huskily.

"Should I be sad?"

Alex grimaced sympathetically for his in laws over the elderly widow's inquiry. 'Poor old gal doesn't know up from down. She's lost her old man and doesn't realize it. I dunno that I could handle that kind of question.'

Daniel couldn't handle it, either. His eyes misted and throat closed up when he tried to answer his mother. His heart broke watching her pat her husband's unyielding arm, as if she were trying to wake him.

Cat moved up beside the casket and her step – mother's wheelchair to lay a comforting arm around Miriam. "Mom, you can feel however you want to feel today."

"Will I go to Hell for having two husbands in Heaven?" She asked in an unexpected moment of clarity.

"No, Mom," Cat replied softly. "You came up with that answer yourself long ago. I guess you don't remember sharing a dream about having two husbands when you got to Heaven with me? I mentioned it earlier."

"Not really," Miriam replied, though she'd heard the story a few minutes earlier during Cat's remarks. "But I have a pretty good 'fergetter'!"

"That's OK," Cat reassured the older woman. "Just know that Daddy doesn't feel sick and old any more. The next time you see him, he'll be waitin' with Sherwood to escort you to the pearly gates."

"We'll wait outside, little sis," Jan hobbled over to them after making his own private goodbye to Blaine. "Give you a chance to talk to your hubby."

"Bill's here?" Miriam exclaimed excitedly. "Why hasn't he come say hi to me?"

Alex winced and rubbed the bridge of his nose again.

"Bill's with Daddy and Sherwood," Cat choked. She turned Miriam's wheelchair around to face the laptop screen. "That's Alex, my new husband. He's overseas on a job and couldn't get here in person, but he's been watching the entire service."

"Oh, OK," Miriam sighed. "Hello, Bill!" She waved cordially at Alex's image.

"Hi, Miriam. You behavin' yourself?" Alex smiled, lifting a hand in salute to her. 'Poor old girl! She's still confusin' me with Cat's first old man! In a way, it's nice to experience something regular!'

"I can't do much else!" She complained as Daniel rolled her to the door.

"She gonna be a'right?" Alex asked Jan, who was still in range of the laptop.

"I dunno, bro," Jan sighed. "She just lives in her own world."

"Sucks," Alex replied.

"Amen, brother!" Jan limped out of the parlor, leaving Cat and Dawn alone with Alex.

"Dawn, do you want a couple of minutes to talk to your father?" Cat inquired.

Dawn shook her head. Her face was pale and her eyes and nose were slightly red. "No thanks, 'Mama' Cat. I'll just wait outside with everyone else." Dawn stepped up to the casket, gazed down at the body lying in repose, then turned and walked out the door which closed behind her, leaving Cat and Alex alone.

Cat's heart raced in response to the unexpected endearment from her step – daughter. She didn't take much time to dwell on it as she walked to the coffin and bent down to lay her head on her father's still chest for a few moments. Her face was turned away from the laptop, but Alex could clearly see her reach into the pocket of her silk jacket and withdraw a piece of paper.

"I downloaded this when it looked like I'd have to step in as your soloist, Daddy," she murmured. "That obviously wasn't the case, but I wanted you to hear it anyway," she murmured.

The strains of a piano drifted to Alex's ears. It sounded to him like a tune from a music box. Cat began singing after a few bars' introduction:

"You were always there for me

Watching me grow and learn

You gave love and discipline to me

You were my dad

My father

Not a friend.

You had such big dreams

And high hopes for me

But I followed my own lead

Sometimes you had to be tough

And let me sink or swim

But despite the disappointments

You never took your love from me

As the pain sweeps through

There's no sense to life at all

Your time here has ended

My life will be empty without you

So who'll be there for me

As my world falls down?"

Tig was initially pissed by the question. 'Who the fuck does she think is there for her?' As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt like kicking himself. 'Asshole! Use your brain!' She's not questioning whether you're here for her! Jesus Christ!'

The tune sounded familiar to him. He knew he'd heard it before, but he couldn't place it right away. 'Prolly something she performed at the coffeehouse,' he thought sorrowfully. "I'm right here, baby. Your world's not fallen, it's just changed, but I'm here for you," he sighed softly, not wanting to interrupt her but desperately wanting her to know she wasn't alone.

Cat didn't seem to hear him; she remained in that prostrate position for a few more moments while the piano played on. It made him wonder if she was giving in to her grief that she hadn't shown during the service. Alex used that time to say his own soft farewell to his father – in – law.

"Good bye, Dad," he murmured. It was the first and only time he'd referred to Blaine that way, though his father – in – law had told him he could from their first meeting. "There's not a lot of people like you in the world, and it sucks. I appreciate that Cat has the same ability you have of seein' the best in people – even if it bites you both in the ass."

Alex's heart broke and he clenched his hands into fists as he fumed inwardly at his helplessness. He took a deep, steadying breath as his wife straightened up and tucked the stuffed orange kitten that had been resting in a corner of the casket under her father's arm.

Cat turned away from the coffin to slump into the chair she'd vacated. She lifted the computer into her lap so she could see Alex's face more easily. "Jesus Christ!" She sighed. "This hurts!"

"I know, baby. I'll miss him, too," Alex replied soothingly. Her face was tearstained but calm. If she had been pouring out her grief, it wasn't showing. "Ya did good." He decided not to repeat what he'd said about her not being alone. She knew he was there for her, even if he couldn't be there with her. He felt an overwhelming need to hold her close, buthad to settle for placing his hand on the screen near her face. "I dunno how you managed to get through that speech without breakin' down. I'm proud of ya."

"It wasn't easy, love," she replied tiredly. "It's so hard to accept that he's gone. I now understand how Christine Daae could feel as lost as she did. I'm a grown ass woman, yet I feel lost. My world really has fallen apart."

"You know you aren't alone, baby. You've got me," Alex reminded her.

"I know," she sighed. "It's just that part of me hoped Daddy would always be there for me to turn to. He always was, even when he had to be firm and show 'tough love'. Finding out he's mortal after all is like walkin' into a brick wall at night. It hurts."

The office door suddenly opened, causing him to frown menacingly until he spotted Ally peeking inside. His expression relaxed and he waved his hand at her in a gesture of invitation. "Ally's back," he announced.

"I wasn't aware she'd left," Cat replied.

"She wanted to give me some privacy," Alex explained.

"For a moment there I thought you were goin' to read someone the riot act, love," Cat remarked.

"Thought it might've been the warden," he huffed. Alex's hand went up to the bridge of his nose again while Ally drew up a chair so she could see the computer screen. "I liked everything ya said about Blaine, especially that bit about not havin' any enemies," he continued, his voice slightly muffled by his hand. "I'll miss him, baby. I really respected him. Thanks for settin' this up for me."

Cat felt comforted by Alex's comment about her father. There were very few men outside the club he respected or liked. "You're welcome, love," she smiled wanly. "I wish you could be present for the burial, but there's no wi – fi at the cemetery."

"That's a'right, baby. Moore's prolly champing at the bit to fumigate his office!" Alex assured her.

"By the way, Ally, thanks for helpin' with this," Cat stated, drawing the lawyer into the conversation. "No one would've guessed that Alex wasn't overseas!"

"All I did was bring the necessary props," the lawyer demurred as she moved into the laptop's camera field. "By the way, you'll be pleased to know that the items in jeopardy have been saved." Ally was speaking in code, in case the warden's office was wire tapped. She was hoping Cat would catch on, despite her pre occupation with the funeral.

Cat nodded that she understood the message. "That's good news. I'll try to look at those other items you sent tonight."

"Take your time, Kitten," Ally assured her. "And feel free to get in contact with me if you need help with your father's estate."

"Y'all know I will." Cat glanced off to one side, nodded, and returned her attention to the computer screen in front of her. "Everybody is waitin' to go to the cemetery; the funeral home folks need me to get out of here so they can do what they need to do," she explained apologetically. "I guess this is it for now, love."

"Be strong, baby," Alex crooned soothingly, placing his fingers along the screen next to her face. He forgot all about asking about the willowy blonde that had dissed him. 'There'll be time for that shit later!'

"I'll try," she replied, placing her hand against the screen of her computer. "Just have to get through the burial and the family dinner."

"Should be a piece of cake," he grinned wickedly.

"Yeah, Devil's Food," she smirked. "Talk to ya tomorrow night, love. I'll be too whipped to talk tonight."

"I noticed," Alex replied dryly.

"Then I'll see ya when I see ya, love."

"Does she always do that?" Ally inquired in surprise as the screen went black.

"Do what?" Tig moaned, closing the lap top and resting his elbows on either side of it to lay his head in his hands.

"Make a smart remark and hang up," the lawyer explained.

"Yeah," he replied softly, not looking up at her. His head and heart hurt. The funeral had taken a toll on him forward to close the lap top. He rested his elbows on either side of it and laid his head in his hands. The funeral had taken a toll on him, though not as much as it obviously had taken on his wife. The one thing that lightened his heart was the endearment his daughter had spoken to her.

It had shocked and surprised him when he found out Cat had invited his daughter to attend the funeral, considering Dawn's betrayal a few weeks earlier. He was even more surprised to get the news from Dawn that his wife had extended the invite to Fawn. He briefly wondered if Dawn had an ulterior motive for being present, but her demeanor during the service convinced him otherwise.

Tig felt proud of his daughter. It was one of the few times he'd seen her dressed in a less revealing fashion. He sincerely hoped that was indicative of a change in attitude on Dawn's part towards his wife 'I wouldn't have believed it possible to miss someone I only spent a few days with; it feels like I've lost somethin' really special!'

Cat didn't want to leave the grave, though those attending the 'family' dinner had already crossed the paved county road to the church's fellowship hall. She remained seated in front of her father's casket with her elbows on her knees and her head resting in her gloved palms. Her dark sunglasses and regular glasses lay on the empty chair to her left. The funeral home staff stood to one side of the open grave, patiently waiting for her to leave so they could complete the task of lowering the coffin into the grave and covering it.

She was aware that she was inconveniencing the workers, but felt little guilt about it. She was finally giving in to the overwhelming sense of loss she'd kept at bay since her father died. She was so wrapped up in her grief that she didn't notice a lone, suited figure approach the funeral home staff, nor hear his brief conversation with them. The funeral home workers nodded at the newcomer and stepped to the other side of the hearse while he approached the grieving woman and sat in a chair close to her on her right. He kept some space between them and waited, granting her a measure of privacy.

Cat's crying jag finally ended. She raised her head, wiped her eyes with one of her father's handkerchiefs she carried in her pocket, and slipped her eyewear back into place. A gentle hand dropped onto her shoulder, startling her and making her yelp in surprise. She turned to find the solemn presence of Bert Diehl, her minister from her college days, instead of Cavey or one of her male cousins sitting next to her.

"Feel better, Kitten?" He asked.

"No," she admitted wryly. "I don't think I'll ever feel better." She turned her gaze away from her former minister to stare at her father's coffin. The sun shone on the grass, which she preferred over a grey rain. 'That's the last thing we needed today, and not just because of the bikers!' Rain during a funeral made the occasion more depressing.

"That's true," Rev. Diehl acknowledged. "But you will, eventually, come to accept the change."

"I'm quite familiar with the seven stages of grief and loss!" She hissed.

"Yes, you are," he agreed. "You're entitled to go through all seven at your own pace. Don't let anyone try to tell you different."

"Like I'd listen to 'em in the first place!" Cat snorted.

"True," Rev. Diehl smiled. "You haven't changed in that respect, Kitten."

"Don't intend to, either," she replied. "Why does it hurt so much when a body's anticipated somethin' like this for decades?"

"Because you loved your father, and we grieve when we lose a loved one, no matter how slow or how quick that loss occurs or how much we think we're prepared for it," the minister explained.

"I guess you're right," she sighed. "And I guess it's time to get outta here so the guys there can do their duty."

Rev. Diehl stood up and offered a hand to help her. Cat accepted the gesture with a small smile, then stepped to her father's casket and laid her forehead against it for a moment. Rev. Diehl stepped a few paces away to give her some privacy.

"I love you, Daddy," she whispered. She stood straight and resolutely turned away from the grave, nodding her head in gratitude to the funeral home staff. Rev. Diehl held out his arm and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, falling into step with him as they slowly walked away from the grave.

'Brownie' slouched in the front seat of his truck, watching the outlaws and Officer Downe comparing notes. His truck was parked in the church parking lot as far from the entrance of the fellowship hall as possible. The tinted windows prevented anyone from seeing inside, including his son and the bikers. He knew they were looking for him since he'd been at the back of the knot of mourners at the grave side service. He'd nodded once at them, acknowledging their presence before turning his gaze upon the two ministers officiating over the short service.

He knew they wondered why he was at the grave when he hadn't spoken to any of the family at the funeral home. 'They're likely to question everyone that didn't speak to the family and showed up here,' he mused. He didn't intend to be subjected to an interrogation by either party and had walked directly to the parking lot at the conclusion of the service. The knot of people gathered around Cat and her family had blocked him from the bikers' view.

His stomach rumbled, protesting his absence from the 'family dinner'. The host minister had issued an open invitation to those attending the graveside service, but 'Brownie' knew he'd never get a moment's peace if he showed up. He chose to hide in the truck, watching for an opportunity to torment his nemesis.

Though he risked detection by his son and the bikers just by being in the parking lot, he couldn't resist watching Cat in her most vulnerable moment. He enjoyed seeing her grief and knowing he'd had a part in causing it. 'This time you know I did, bitch! It's just a taste of what's comin' to you!' He thought gleefully. 'You're going to know every bit of disappointment and grief you caused me over the years and I'm gonna enjoy dishin' it out!'

To his relief, the outlaws and his son sauntered into the fellowship hall, apparently convinced that he'd left. He patted his protesting stomach and reached into the center console where he'd stashed some snacks. They were a poor substitute for the lavish spread everyone inside was enjoying, but he'd have to be happy with what he had for the moment, just as he had to wait for an opportunity to toy with his prey.

He had a good view of the graveyard from the parking lot. He could clearly see his nemesis sitting alone in front of her father's casket while the funeral home staff waited patiently for her to leave. He gobbled the snack and was about to venture out of the safety of his truck to torment her when he spied a figure in a suit exit the fellowship hall and stroll across the road to the canopied covered grave.

"Shit! That's Rev. Diehl from Terre Haute!" Brownie muttered darkly. "I didn't see him earlier!" He sighed and rolled his eyes. "It figures he'd be here to comfort the fake ass bitch! Another fuckin' obstacle in my way! Damn it!"

He watched the minister comfort her and smirked at her distressed behavior. He knew in his heart that she was play acting for the minister's benefit, just as she'd done when she'd sought counseling from him decades earlier. 'The bitch poisoned the man against me with her lies!' He fumed darkly. 'The one time I went to him for help, the bastard suggested I should be honest with that cow and leave her alone to heal from the hurt! Like I'd turn away from an easy cash source like her! Rat bastard!'

He watched the two old friends get up from the chairs and Rev. Diehl walk away a few paces to give Cat a moment to say a final goodbye to her father. The two then walked away from the grave towards the fellowship hall, but halted their progress near the entrance, apparently having a deep argument.

'Brownie' lowered the passenger side window enough that he might hear their conversation if they were talking loud enough to allow him to eavesdrop. The pair certainly seemed angry at each other. 'Maybe the old man is finally givin' her the bitch slap she deserves!'

Rev. Diehl didn't speak until they had safely crossed the asphalt road. He had come out to the graveside for two reasons. The first was to check on Cat, and the other was to take the opportunity to talk to her in private about her emotional distance towards all members of the Conference she'd been in contact with that day, including him. The aloofness he sensed from her puzzled him until he noticed the official Conference rep received the same treatment. The distance between them had shortened a bit at the grave, but her aloofness was back in full force. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. "Why are you giving me the cold shoulder, Cat?"

"I'm not sure this is the best time to get into that subject, Bert," she replied.

"Maybe so, but I feel the need to get to the bottom of this," he insisted. "You used to be able to confide in me. Why are you shutting me out?"

Cat sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're part of the Conference hierarchy, right?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"And you want me to believe you really don't know what's got me honked off at all y'all?"

"Would I waste time asking if I already knew?" He challenged.

"Just like polar bears don't poop in the woods!" She retorted, favoring him with 'The Look'.

"Humor me, Kitten. Let me help," he pleaded.

"Your offer comes a little late!" She snarled, pointing back over her shoulder towards her father's grave. "All I asked out of the conference was a simple pastoral care visit for him. No one showed up! I hoped you'd at least come out, but the silence was deafening! Where were you all that time!"

Her anger hit him with the intensity of a cannon ball. He felt as if she was putting all the blame on him for the failure and he replied hotly without thinking, "I was on vacation with my family and didn't learn about Blaine until I returned to the office after he'd died!"

Cat had the decency to look ashamed for her angry outburst. She knew better than most people just how sacrosanct vacation time could be for a minister's family. "I didn't know you were out of town, Bert. I'm sorry for breathin' fire at y'all," she contritely explained.

"It's all right, Cat," her friend replied just as contritely. "You had no way of knowing we had to reschedule our getaway twice before. From your point of view, it looked like I left you high and dry during a tough time."

"That's one way of lookin' at it," she shrugged. "It was worse because 'Brownie' disguised himself as a theology student and raised havoc."

Rev. Diehl's face paled at the mention of Cat's longtime nemesis. "How'd he manage to find out where your father was being treated?"

"It's a long story," she replied.

"I think we'd better talk about this now," he insisted.

Cat glanced towards the entrance to the fellowship hall, then back at the minister. "If we're goin' to discuss this, let's move out of the sun and cop a squat," she sighed, motioning to a bench in a shady area near the fellowship hall entrance. "They've waited this long for me; a few more minutes ain't goin' to hurt 'em."

Tina Lou smiled in disbelief and sat back from her computer screen with a sigh of relief. She had read through the email offer and attachments several times, but still found it hard to believe. 'Cat wants me to manage the new 'Crows' Nest Properties!' She mused. 'I'll have a regular salary and hours at last!'

The position enabled her to continue the cleaning service she already offered to the Morrows and the patched members that didn't live on the club premises as well as her craft sales through 'Charming Pawse' for extra income. Her job responsibilities included showing open rentals, collecting rents, and maintaining payment and maintenance logs on a daily basis. There was even a provision to keep her son busy with yard work and preparing the properties for new inhabitants. 'That might help keep him from hanging around the club as often as he has been!'

Tina knew her son would eventually prospect SAMCRO; it was as much a part of him as the sandy hair and blue eyes that he got from his father, who'd died during the biker wars of the 90s. She couldn't help wanting a better future for him than what befell her husband. 'I keep hoping he'll find something he wants to pursue besides joining the MC, but he keeps getting pulled towards it. With all the officers locked up, it's been a lot easier for him to hang around.'

She was surprised that Cat had recalled their conversation about her son given the current demands on her. They had discussed her son's future once after he roared past the coffeehouse on the crotch rocket he'd purchased using money saved from mowing lawns over the years.

"Nah," Cat assured her. "It's normal for parents to want a better life for their kid. My folks wanted me to be a musician because they thought I had talent."

"You do. Why didn't you pursue it?" Tina inquired.

"I didn't find a lot of fun in it. I joined a semi – successful garage band while in high school that played lots of weekend gigs at taverns and high school dances. The folks wanted me to get into classical music – opera or orchestral. Neither appealed to me as a lifetime career," she shrugged. "I followed my own path, rocky as it was."

"Sounds like I'd better resign myself to him patching in," Tina sighed in resignation.

"I'm surprised he's not become a hang around!" Cat snorted.

"Oh, he wants to, but I talked to Clay about it after his father was killed," Tina remarked. "Got his promise to keep the kid out of the club until he graduates high school."

"Wow!" Cat whistled appreciatively. "I'm surprised Clay agreed!"

"An outlaw widow's grief can be a powerful thing," Tina admitted, her face clouding over from the memory. "Guess Clay felt it was the least he could for me. Back then, it seemed like a long way off in the future."

"Now it's about to smack y'all in the face," Cat remarked sympathetically. "And the young one probably wasn't too happy with your motherly concern."

"He's wasn't enthusiastic about it," Tina grinned. "He threatened to drop out of school."

"How'd you keep that from happening?"

"I told him if he dropped out, he could live off his lawn care service. It was just about the time he wanted to buy that crotch rocket, and paying his own way would've eaten into his stash for it. Plus, I think he talked to Chibs about it."

"Really?"

"I can't be sure, but he looks up to Chibs. He's been a kind of mentor to my boy since his father died. You might not believe this, but he's a firm believer in education."

"He's certainly not a stupid man," Cat agreed.

"Neither is my son. He's not a child anymore, but he's not an adult, either," Tina replied.

"Well, you've got a little breathing room yet, he won't be out of high school for another year. Something could still come along to take his attention off the club," Cat observed.

She tapped out a response to the lawyer, indicating her acceptance of the position and of her son's additional responsibilities in the lawn care. There would be a lot of work to get the properties ready for inspection. 'Guess that's the something that will keep my kid too occupied to hang around the club!'

She sent the email just as the sound of her son's motorcycle broke the silence. She looked up, her gaze inquiring as he threw himself into the kitchen chair opposite her.

"What's wrong?" She asked, noting his forlorn expression.

"The guys chased me away from the clubhouse again," he sighed.

"That's never bothered you before," she pointed out.

"That guy from the Tacoma charter told me there's no such thing as a legacy! I have to prospect like any old hang around!" He retorted.

Tina's heart raced at the idea that her son might not follow in his father's footsteps, only to be replaced a few moments' later with by a twinge of guilt. Despite the fact that her husband died for the club, it had been good to her and her son, especially in the last few months since 'Charming Pawse' opened. Her son didn't need her to gloat about prospecting, he needed her to be 'Mom' first.

"Why don't you grab a couple of sodas from the ice box," she offered. "We'll sit and talk about it as long as you want."

Ally reached around Tig to remove her laptop from the desk. She shut it down, unplugged the power cord and stowed both in her briefcase.

Tig remained slumped over the desk, holding his head in both hands. Ally couldn't tell if he was crying, and didn't want to embarrass or anger him by asking. 'The best thing I can do is give him what little time and space I can so he can collect himself.'

She returned the chair she'd used while she spoke over the video conferencing with Cat to its place on the other side of the desk. It looked like it had never been moved, which was the effect Ally was going for. She didn't want to leave one paper clip out of place that would annoy the warden. She moved to the couch, sat down, and waited.

Tig wasn't crying but he was sad and tired. Part of that came from not sleeping well the night before, but he was willing to admit that his fatigue came from the service itself and watching his wife bear her burden with as much grace and dignity as she could muster.

'No sense beating myself up again for not bein' there. Won't change shit and won't make me feel any better,' he mused. 'Just gotta get through the rest of the day, and maybe get some sleep tonight. Won't seem right not to talk to my girl before lights out, but it's only one night. She's gonna be exhausted.' He raised his head from his hands and looked across the room to the patiently waiting lawyer. "So I guess this is it," he announced gruffly.

Ally looked up and nodded, slipping her notepad into her briefcase. "I'm afraid so, sweetheart," she replied. She stood up and handed the neatly folded prison shirt to him, glancing away while he changed.

"It's safe to look, mouthpiece," he grinned sardonically. "Kinda glad ya turned around, would've been a problem if ya fainted from the sight of my sculpted bod!"

"Yeah, right," she retorted weakly. "Actually, I didn't want to have Cat hissed off at me." His humor caught her off guard, considering the somber event they'd both witnessed.

Tig shrugged and started toward the door of the warden's office, opening it to find o find the same guard who'd escorted him to the admin wing waiting at the entrance. "Guess that's my cue to leave," he remarked. "You goin' back to Charming?"

"I have a little more business to attend to here, then I'm heading back," Ally explained. "Any messages for the club?"

"Nah," he snorted. Just as Ally passed him, he touched her shoulder so that she stopped in the doorway. "Thanks for everything, Ms. Lowen," he whispered.

Ally's eyes misted over at the sign of respect the tough SAA gave her. She nodded and choked, "Anytime." She watched the guard and Tig head back to gen pop, then sighed and turned towards the area that housed the death row inmates.

Diehl listened patiently while Cat poured her broken heart out to him about her father's last illness and death. While she related her belief that 'Brownie' was responsible for hastening her father's demise, she didn't mention her father's last plea to save his life, nor did she explain why so many bikers were present at the funeral.

"I've never understood why that man had such a vendetta against you," Diehl recalled. "Did you know that he once sought council from me, and I advised him to leave you alone since he wasn't serious about a relationship?"

Cat shook her head, though the news didn't surprise her. She had sought counsel from the minister at the campus center about the relationship with 'Brownie'. The minister had pointed out the number of ways it was harmful to her, but she was as addicted to him as 'Brownie' was to hallucinogenic drugs. He was a bad habit she couldn't shake until it nearly took her life.

"That happened just a day before he attacked and nearly killed you," the minister continued. "I always felt somewhat responsible for that."

Cat laid a comforting hand on her friend's arm. "Wasn't your fault at all, Preacher," she assured him, using her old nickname for him. "He was amped up and didn't take it well when the MC didn't offer to patch him in. He was even too shady for their liking!"

Diehl smiled wanly at the obvious pun. "He certainly can harbor a grudge to track you and your father down after all these years."

"Stubborn as a mule," Cat sighed. "And maybe I'm being a little dramatic in holdin' him accountable for Daddy's death, but his presence definitely upset Daddy when he was at his most fragile! I'll be happy to never see 'Brownie's' shadow again in this life or any other!"

"From your mouth to God's ears," Diehl grinned. "Are you less angry now that we've talked?"

"A bit, but I'm not really that sanguine about Church matters," she grumbled.

Diehl inwardly agreed that the Conference had definitely let her father and her down before the pastor's death. "You're not turning your back on religion?" He cried.

"More like I've gone back to bein' an 'amiable agnostic'," she sighed. "I just don't have any faith in Church anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that, kitten," Bert admitted solemnly. "Church is more than just a building and its people."

"I know, the Church is Jesus' bride and all that," she admitted with a frown. "But I'm really thinking that the Holy Trinity is closer to me when I'm out ridin' than when I'm sittin' in a pew."

"You're hurt and upset, friend," Diehl replied. "Don't make any hasty decisions about your spiritual life. Give the wounds time to heal."

Cat favored her old friend with 'The Look'. "Healin' is goin' to take some time, Preacher. Forgivin' the transgression is goin' to be a long time comin', and you can believe that I'll never forget it!" She growled.

"I'll accept that, but I'll also be lifting you in my prayers, my friend."

"Occupational hazard, sport," she grinned ruefully. "Guess we'd better get inside."

The sound of Georgia's strident voice assaulted their ears as they entered the fellowship hall. They appeared in the doorway just as Georgia announced, "I think it's an absolute shame – not to mention an affront to 'Unkie Bain's' memory – for that felon to be allowed to watch the service! It's even more disgusting that we were force fed that bull about him having an overseas job! And how dare she make him an honorary pall bearer and leave my husband out!" She continued scathingly. "Most likely he's in jail where he belongs!"

'Brownie' rolled his eyes at Cat's comment that he'd been in Indianapolis and visited her father. 'She's gonna tell him I murdered her dad, knowin' her!' He growled. A grim smile crossed his face as he realized that wouldn't be such a bad thing. 'So what? She has no idea I'm here, and Diehl will return to Naptown with a tall tale that'll keep the cops chasin' a shadow for weeks! Takes a lot of heat off my ass!'

He relaxed and considered what he wanted to do next. Should he stay in Vincennes and follow her West, or should he go on ahead and bait a trap for her to stumble into? Both ideas were intriguing. The second held little risk of harm to him. He'd be away from her biker watchdogs and would have the opportunity to scope out her hometown and the surrounding area before her arrival.

The thought of following after her to California held a great deal of appeal to him. Sure, it was dangerous because of the bikers, but he doubted the group would stay with her all the way West. 'Wonder if that MC they belong to has charters like the one I prospected? If they do, there's no guarantee they'd be willin' to ride herd on the fat ass! I could have a lot of fun playin' with her mind by pullin' a few pranks along the way!'

The main problem with both plans was that he had no idea when his nemesis would be heading back to her new home. 'She'll obviously wanna get some shit of her old man's to take back with her,' he mused. "She's sentimental that way. I could go all the way out West and wind up hangin' around awhile and that wouldn't be good.'

By the time his nemesis and the minister entered the fellowship hall, 'Brownie' had come to the conclusion that the best route was the more cautious one. He would stay in Vincennes and keep an eye on Cat and her friends until they left the state and follow them. He could use the time to add to his stash and there were plenty of victims to be found in a college town.

A startled gasp met Cat's and the minister's appearance in the fellowship hall. Georgia had her back turned to the entrance, so she had no idea that Cat had heard her. She assumed her audience was reacting disrespectfully to her. The 'Little Princess' indignantly added, "Don't act like you all weren't thinking the same thing!"

"What is her problem?" Rev. Diehl whispered.

"The same old thing; she's not been the center of attention," Cat replied grimly.

"I think it's an absolute shame – not to mention an affront to 'Unkie Bain's' memory – for that felon to be allowed to watch the service! It's even more disgusting that we were force fed that bull about him having an overseas job! And how dare she make him an honorary pall bearer and leave my husband out!" She continued scathingly. "Most likely he's in jail where he belongs!"

'Your husband'll have a heart attack over you standin' up for him for once!' Cat thought acidly while surveying the room to determine how many people shared her cousin's opinion. She was relieved that her step – mother hadn't paid any attention to Georgia's diatribe, but Dawn's face told a different story. Her skin had taken on a bright red color and she leapt from her chair to confront the speaker.

'Jesus Christ!' Cat sighed turning to the minister. "Would you head her off at the pass, Rev? The last thing we need is a bloody cat fight!"

"My pleasure," he replied, smoothly intercepting the angry girl before she got close enough to Georgia to start a nasty confrontation.

Dawn glared angrily at the minister, who gently took her by the elbow and led her away from Cat's cousin. "I know you want to defend your father, but your step – mother doesn't need a family feud!" He explained quietly so only Dawn could hear him. He led her over to the plants and flowers the funeral home staff had just delivered from the graveside

"That bitch can't get away with talking about my father that way!" Dawn hissed furiously. "And when I'm done with her, that Alan Jr fella and I are gonna have it out!"

"There's a time and a place for things, and this is not the time and place to misbehave. Cat doesn't need it, and it's a poor reflection on Rev. Marshall!" Diehl whispered back. "Let Cat handle this."

"Well! There's one vote for the jailbird! Not that I'm surprised! The apple obviously doesn't fall too far from the tree!" The 'Little Princess' gloated.

"Y'all just had to call attention to yourself, today of all days," Cat growled softly.

The 'Little Princess' stared haughtily at Cat and sneered. "At least I have some respect for 'Unkie Bain'! Too bad his only daughter couldn't do the same!"

A low murmur of protest started to build from the audience. Cat squelched it with a look that demanded they settle down. "Care to explain just what y'all are talkin' about?" She purred menacingly.

Her cousin pointed at the group of denim clad bikers standing off to the side with Officer Downe. "Those bikers for one!" She spat. "They could've worn something other than jeans! That makes it obvious that they're crooks, just like that jailbird you married and foisted off on 'Unkie Bain' as a mechanic and entrepreneur!"

"Daddy wouldn't have judged them by their clothes," Cat replied quietly. "Neither does God, when you think about it. Their jeans are clean, they all washed sometime before the service, and they've been behavin' like gentlemen. Too bad y'all can't act like a lady!"

The put down embarrassed her, but the 'Little Princess' eyes gleamed in triumph. "You're not denying that they're outlaws, just like that criminal you married!"

"I don't 'have' to deny or confirm anything about them," Cat replied evenly. "If they want you to know whether they have a record or not, they'll tell you!"

"Damn straight!" GB snarled under his breath.

"Stay cool, mate," Cavey hissed warningly. "Let Lady Cat 'andle this."

Cat wasn't finished with the dressing down. "If it'll shut y'all up, then I'll admit to all y'all that Alex has done time and Daddy knew about it, thanks to Alan Jr., performin' that background check!" She cast a knowing glance at her cousin who blushed and hung his head.

Georgia blanched at the realization that Cat knew about the background check. She'd believed no one had told her. "Who told you about that?"

"Daddy told me he knew a few hours before he died," Cat stated calmly. "He never let on to us that he knew. He treated Alex like a member of the family. As far as Daddy was concerned, Alex 'paid his debt to society' and didn't deserve to have his past thrown in his face."

"I'll bet he helped himself to whatever he wanted whenever 'Unkie Bain' wasn't looking!" Her cousin sneered.

"Hello, pot! Meet kettle!" Cat snarled.

"And just what does that mean?" Georgia's voice was frosty, but her composure was visibly rattled.

"Give it up, cuz!" Geoffrey spoke up. "All us kids," he swept an arm out to include his siblings and Cat, "haven't forgotten about the stunt you pulled when our great aunt passed away. We also know y'all took everything of monetary value out of the farmhouse after Grandma went to the nursin' home!'

"Alex never stole from Daddy!" Cat hissed at the same time. "He's has an aversion to stealin' from family, unlike some people in this room!"

Dawn felt her face grow red at her step-mother's comment. She expected to hear a scathing remark about her being like Georgia, but the moment passed and nothing was mentioned about her theft from her step – mother. Fortunately for Dawn, no one noticed her momentary discomfort. All eyes, including Rev. Diehl's, were on the two verbal combatants.

Georgia's haughty demeanor crumbled under her cousins' dual verbal barrage. She hadn't expected anyone would bring up her past 'indiscretions' this day of all days. 'None of them thought I deserved anything for being the first born grandchild!' she seethed inwardly. 'So I helped myself to the lion's share of our great aunt's and grandparent's estates! It wasn't a crime!'

Her 'self help' was considered a crime by her cousins. Both Rev. Marshall and his brother interceded on their children's' behalf in the trust from their aunt. Georgia had contacted the bank and the executer of the estate to divert all the funds to her. Her uncles intercession with both parties resulted in the small disbursements to be allocated as the great – aunt requested. Georgia felt betrayed by her uncles, and gave them both the cold shoulder for years, remaining incommunicado for birthdays and Christmases until she learned of Blaine's death. She felt guilty for not reaching out during his last illness and hoped her emotional display would prove to her family that she really cared about her uncle. She could tell her ploy wasn't working from the accusing and angry glares her uncles and step – cousins were giving her.

Cat sensed there was some confusion in the room concerning her husband and decided it was time to clear things up for them. 'It's not like Mom's goin' to remember this in five minutes anyway!' She straightened her shoulders and announced, "Georgia is right about one thing: Alex isn't workin' overseas. He's currently servin' prison time for a crime he committed. He also belongs to the same motorcycle club as these fellas," she motioned at the bikers leaning against the far wall. "If anyone has a problem with these facts, you're welcome to have that problem, but I don't want or need to hear about it."

She paused to draw a shaky breath and give her announcement time to sink in. No one seemed surprised or angered by it except for her eldest cousin, who crowed triumphantly, "I have a problem that you lied to everyone today!"

A buzz of protest met her remark. Dawn strained against Rev. Diehl's grasp to try to get to her step mother's side to defend her father's honor. The minister tightened his grip on the girl's elbow. "Relax!" He whispered. "Cat's handling this just fine!"

Cat glared angrily at her eldest cousin. "Y'all just don't get it! Yes, I lied about Alex's current situation out of respect for the ministers attending the funeral. The video conference arrangement was set up to allow Alex a chance to say goodbye to a man he greatly respected and loved." She looked around the room again and added, "I would hope that all y'all would be as non-judgmental of Alex as Daddy was. He accepted Alex as freely and openly as he accepted Bill. I don't intend to apologize for includin' Alex. He respected Daddy more than any of you can guess and feels the loss just as much as we do."

The 'Little Princess' snorted in derision. "I'll bet!"

Cat turned an angry gaze back to her eldest cousin. "If y'all are goin' to continue with this kind of display, y'all can leave!"

"That's a good idea, dear," Georgia's husband interjected, closing his fingers gently but firmly around her elbow. She'd been so engrossed in her argument with her cousin that she didn't notice when he rose from his chair and came up beside her. "We do have a long trip ahead of us." His expression was resolute, more so than Georgia had ever seen it. She didn't know he was thinking 'It's going to be even longer sitting in close confines with you sulking the entire trip!'

'It's no farther for us than it is for most of the family!" She protested hotly. "We haven't eaten yet!"

"We'll get something on the road," her husband insisted, exhibiting a rare steel backbone in dealing with his hard headed wife. "You've worn out our welcome here."

Georgia looked around the room, realizing for the first time just how far she'd stepped over the line. The murderous intent in Dawn's expression alone caused her to lose what little bravado she had left. "Maybe you're right," she whispered.

"It's not the first time!" Geoff stage whispered to Alan Jr. The comment carried through the fellowship hall, causing many a smirk to dissipate the building anger against Georgia.

Georgia turned back to her cousin, her previously haughty expression replaced with one of entreaty. "Would it be all right if I went to the house to select a memento?" She begged. "You can send one of your 'friends' with me if it makes you feel any better."

"Considering your past behavior, I'd rather you not," Cat replied frostily. "I'll select somethin' for y'all and send it to you. Now please leave,"

The 'Little Princess' gathered her purse close to her chest and fled the fellowship hall as tears of embarrassment flowed down her cheeks. She'd succeeded in being the center of attention, but not in the way she'd intended.

"I'm sorry, Cat," her cousin's husband murmured. His face flushed with embarrassment.

"It's not your fault, darlin'," she grinned shakily. "Be safe goin' home." She glanced over his shoulder at her step-mother, who didn't seem bothered by the verbal war between herself and her cousin. 'For once I'm glad things like this go right over Mom's head! I was afraid this would confuse her more than she already is!'

The guard assigned to accompany Tig back to gen pop remained blessedly silent during the journey. For his part, Tig kept his hands at his sides and his eyes pointed straight ahead. 'It won't be much longer until I'll be done havin' to deal with him; just stay cool, no matter what he says,' the SAA reminded himself.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the guard walked away from him upon his return to the gen pop area. Had it been his imagination, or had the guard seemed a little less belligerent during the return trip? 'Eh. The joint ain't the best place for keepin' shit on the QT. Prolly heard the other prisoners or guards talkin' about my business,' he shrugged. Given the time of day, he knew he'd find the club out in the exercise yard, so he proceeded to that area. He stood to one side of the doorway after exiting the building to give his eyes time to adjust to the brighter light. He found the club at their usual spot, a set of risers near the basketball court and ambled towards them.

"You a'right, brother?" Clay inquired through a haze of cigar smoke. The Prez leaned against the riser above him, both elbows propped behind him. Happy sat above him, a bit off to his own, while Theo, Jax, and Bobby were huddled around the Prez. All of them looked concerned.

"Yeah," Tig sighed, climbing the risers to sit next to Happy. "A bit drained."

"How's Kittenface holdin' up?" Bobby asked.

"About as well as anyone can in a situation like that," Tig replied. "Dawnie's there; she's really bein' supportive."

His brothers greeted that announcement with startled expressions. "Did my hearing just go bad?" Clay rumbled ominously. "Did you just say your daughter is being supportive of Cat?"''

"I'm surprised your kid would show up in the first place," Juice added, "after what she did to your wife."

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! My kid's not all bad; she has her moments!" Tig protested.

"Damn few," Bobby muttered.

"Here's another surprise for ya," Tig grinned broadly. "Cat invited her and Fawn in the first place."

"Your woman seems to have a tendency to give people who have betrayed her second chances," Clay observed. "Gem's the exact opposite."

"Sometimes it bites her in the ass," Tig admitted. "But this time is different. Dawnie seems to have changed her opinion of my girl."

The men greeted that comment with raised eyebrows. The majority of them knew Dawn and her sister since they were born and none of them believed for a minute that Dawn had changed her opinion of Cat, but they weren't willing to say so to Tig at the moment.

"Why has it gotten so quiet?" Cat's step mother inquired in the ensuing hush. "I thought we were going to eat!"

"We are," Cat assured the woman. "And you get to go first!" She stepped behind the wheel chair and pushed it to the food laden table.

"Aren't we going to bless the food first?" Miriam protested. "I don't want to eat unblessed food!"

The host minister grinned and acknowledged her feisty request. "Please bow your heads for the blessing," he stated before offering a brief prayer of Thanksgiving for the food and a blessing for the church members who had prepared it.

'Thank Gawd Rev. Diehl was here to help with Dawn; she would've torn the 'Princess' a new asshole if she'd gotten the chance!' Cat observed tiredly. Her step daughter's malicious grin at the woman's hasty retreat confirmed that possibility would've become fact.

"You really told her off, Cat!" Dawn pointed out admiringly while they served themselves from the buffet style layout.

"There's a time and a place for certain things, my girl," Cat retorted briskly, not realizing she was echoing Rev. Diehl's comment. . "This isn't the the time or place for any of this!"

"Don't worry about it, Kitten," Alan Jr., hastened to assure her, throwing a supportive arm around her shoulder. 'I never should've looked into Alex's record and shared it with Uncle Blaine in the first place!"

"There's the family 20/20 hindsight at work again!" She quipped weakly, casting a significant glare at her step daughter that clearly warned her not to confront Alan Jr.. "We'll discuss this later," she mouthed.

Dawn frowned in disdain, but nodded her reluctant acceptance of her step – mother's command. 'Damn right we'll talk about it later!' She fumed, storming off from the serving table to sit in a far corner of the room, well away from the rest of the guests. Her angry glare sent those few who thought about sitting with her, including 'Critter', to find a more hospitable place to sit.

Cat opted to let her step – daughter fume. She had a headache from grief over losing her father and anger at her cousin's behavior. It left her with little appetite to eat. She placed her plate on a nearby table and began walking around the room, clutching a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand. She intended to speak with every table and apologize for the nasty scene they'd witnessed earlier.

Before she got too far from her plate, her Aunt Flora stopped her and led her off to the side of the room. "You don't ned to apologize, dear. If anything, I owe you the apology for my daughter's behavior."

"She's over 21, and accountable to herself for her behavior. You have no need to make her apologies," Cat replied gently. "She said all that about Alex in order to make herself feel better. She's always done that."

Her aunt smiled forlornly. "Just don't say anything more about it, honey. Just go around and talk to people, thank them for coming, but don't apologize for anything."

"I accept that!" Cat smiled, placing an understanding hand on her aunt's arm before heading off towards her step-daughter's table.

"What do you want?" Dawn snapped as Cat sat down across from her.

'Whew! That's more like the Dawn I've dealt with. Wondered when she'd make an appearance!' Cat thought. Aloud, she explained, "For you not to harass Alan Jr. about conducting that background check on your father. We'll talk about it after the family leaves."

"Why not right now?" Dawn insisted. "It's not like anyone's gonna hear us!"

"Because I need to go around to the guests and talk with them," Cat explained patiently. "I'd really appreciate it if you'd not bother my cousin about the background check."

Dawn frowned intently for a few seconds, then nodded. "OK, but I expect to get full deets later!"

"You will," Cat promised, giving the girl a tired smile of relief before getting up to move to another table.

Despite Dawn's promise, Cat remained on alert throughout the meal and while her family visited the house to select a memento to take home. It wasn't until the visitors had said goodbye and were safely in their cars that Cat felt she could relax. She sank into the overstuffed chair Chuckie used for a bed and sighed in relief. The 'Illinois Boys' were due to arrive at any time; they'd gone back to their motel while Cat's family visited the house.

Dawn immediately snatched at the opportunity to quell her curiosity by asking, "So what's the deal with that cousin of yours running a background check on Daddy?"

"Not now, honey," Daniel interjected.

"It's none of your business!" Dawn snapped.

"You forget yourself, little girl," Daniel admonished. "Cat's my little sister, and that makes it my business. I'm your uncle – even if it's by marriage – and that also makes this my business. Let the poor girl have a moment's peace!"

Cat opened her eyes and raised her head from the back of the chair. "It's a'right, big brother. She's got a right to know. Now's as good a time as any." She pointed to the ottoman in front of her, waiting for Dawn to sit down. She complied after she tossed a triumphant grin over her shoulder at her uncle.

Cat refrained from admonishing the girl for her rudeness to her brother. 'Best not to upset the apple cart' she thought. Daniel shrugged his shoulders, smiled and tilted his head towards the kitchen where his daughter was sitting with Jan. The gesture indicated he understood the situation and held no ill will towards them. He headed to the kitchen to give the Trager women a chance to talk in private.

"Alan Jr works at Fort Knox, where the government money is kept. He has access to all kinds of background stuff. He did a trace on your father, and was concerned enough to share it with your grandfather."

"He had no right to do that!" Dawn fumed.

"Yes, he did," Cat replied soothingly. "I made the mistake of trusting the wrong person when I was your age. My cousin got in the habit of doin' a background check on any guy I got real serious about, so he didn't single out your father. He even checked out Bill!"

Dawn's expression mirrored her disbelief. "But I've heard you talk about your first husband; he was as straight as an arrow. Why would your cousin check 'im out?"

Cat sighed and held her head in her hands. "Did you forget that someone I loved nearly killed me a few decades ago?"

"Oh, yeah," Dawn flushed. She had forgottent. Tig had shared that with her months ago. "I'm sorry, Cat."

"It's all right, honey," her step – mother assured her. "You were bein' protective of your dad; there's no harm in that."

"Why was that gash goin' off about Daddy at the dinner?" Dawn added. "She acted like he'd done something to her! She didn't even acknowledge me with a smile or wave or shit at the service!"

"Being the first born of our generation, Georgia always had a flair for the dramatic," Cat grinned. "She held a grudge against Daddy for many years and wouldn't even come see him or call when he was sick. Guess she figured if she made a big show of grief, people would feel sorry for her."

"And what'd she hope to gain by dissin' my dad?"

"Make herself look good in comparison," Cat shrugged.

"Didn't do her much good," Dawn grinned maliciously. "So how come your former in laws didn't come? Don't they care about ya anymore?"

"Yes, they care. They didn't come because they weren't able to," Cat replied wearily.

"They have a car, don't they?" Dawn insisted.

"They do, but they're both down with the flu, and didn't feel up to the trip. Nor did they want to infect everybody," Cat replied tersely. "They were in contact with me while I was in Indy with Daddy, even visited once. I'm still family to them, even though Bill's been gone for some time."

"That's good to know, Lil Sis," Jan interjected, giving his step – niece the hairy eye ball to warn her off further harping about Cat's former in – laws. "Sometimes family gets a little weird when the widow remarries."

"Not like anything like that happened to us!" Cat grinned sardonically. There had been a few issues when Blaine and Miriam wed. It took a while for the adult children to develop a bond with each other, and for the married couple to do so with the grown offspring. Eventually they all learned to accept and love each other as much as if they were related by blood.

"Cat, if it's all right with you, I'd like to give that planter from Uncle Alex's employer a home," Christine interjected, sensing her step – aunt's growing irritation over Dawn's acerbic comments.

"Please!" Cat smiled warmly. "It's too nice to be subjected to my black thumb! Do you want to stay for supper?"

"No, I'd better check on my brood," she grinned, hoisting the planter in her arms. "I'll see you tomorrow for the meeting with the lawyer."

Dawn frowned at the news about the lawyer's meeting. 'Why is she going and I wasn't told thing about it! Did the old man leave me and Fawn out in the cold?'

"Since Christine's going, you're welcome to come along," Jan offered, sensing his step-niece felt left out. "It might be a little boring, though."

"I'll be glad to come along!" Dawn cried excitedly.

"Now that's all settled, guess I'll go see about supper," Cat sighed, struggling to get out of the chair. 'I forgot how comfy this chair is!'

Daniel extended a hand to help his sister get up, then shooed her to her room to rest. "We'll handle dinner, Lil Sis,"he stated. "Why don't you go lie down for a while?"

"I'll do that," Cat yawned. She appreciated her brothers' gesture, even though their idea of 'fixing dinner' was to bring home a variety of Oriental foods from a nearby restaurant. They knew their sister was mentally and physically exhausted from the stress of the funeral and the family dinner. They decided the least they could do was spare her from cooking for a large group of people. Cat fell asleep the minute her head hit the pillow.

'Brownie' slung his back pack onto the bed and surveyed the motel room he'd rented for a week. The manager had given him a discount for paying in cash, but the cost had put a hole in his finances. He'd have to dive further into it to provide himself with meals. Fortunately, the room had a coffeemaker, small refrigerator, and a microwave. All he'd have to buy was foodstuffs; the motel supplied the coffee and filters.

The best thing about his chosen motel was its proximity to the Marshall house. If he walked around the back of the building, he could see the minister's property just across the shrub covered border. The shrubs would provide perfect cover for him as well. He would have no problem monitoring everyone coming and going from the house and would get advance warning of her preparations to leave town.

He decided to go out to the grocery so he wouldn't have to leave later. The parking lot was nearly empty, though the manager had told him he'd just rented the last available room. 'Brownie' didn't give it much thought. The motel appealed to the university students that wanted to live off campus on the cheap and not have to share kitchen and bath facilities. The trip didn't take long, and the lot was still vacant on his return. He stored his purchases, unpacked the back pack, and settled down on the bed to relax when he heard the unmistakable sound of Harleys roaring into the lot.

'It couldn't be!' His stomach sank as he leapt to the window and peeked out from the side of the curtain at the newcomers. 'Shit!' He winced, recognizing the outlaw club that served as his nemesis' guard dogs. 'I would pick the same fuckin' motel as those asswipes! This is not good!' He stepped away from the window to sit on the bed and think over this new wrinkle. Logic dictated that he should stay as far away from the outlaws as possible so that one or more of them wouldn't get too curious about him and possibly blow his cover.

Though his inner alarms were telling him to get out of the situation, the perverse side of him took delight at being right under the MC's collective noses. 'This disguise fooled 'Mouse', and those fuckers at the funeral. Not much of a chance they'd think twice about me stayin' here! For all they know, I'm a student," he assured himself. 'It's not like they're here 24/7! I'll be fine as long as I don't do anything to attract their attention. I've got a score to settle with that gash, and I'm not going to let her get away again without payin' for it!'

The outlaws didn't stay very long in the lot. By peeking out the window curtain, he was able to ascertain that they had three rooms close to the office. 'So it's two of 'em to a room. Probably less expensive for 'em that way. Figures they'd ride over to Fat Fuck's house instead of walk!' He sniffed disdainfully. He planned to watch the bikers as much as he would monitor the Marshall house.

Happy glanced out the side of his eye at the SAA. He sensed his brother was growing tired of talking about the funeral, though he knew Tig appreciated their concern for his wife. Happy withdrew a folded paper from his pocket and tapped the SAA on the shoulder. "Step up to my office, bro," he rumbled.

Tig noticed the paper Happy held and grinned. "Be glad to!" He rose and stepped up three risers to the second from the top where Happy had left his tattoo implements. Happy had been working on a tribute tat to Donna Winston for the last few weeks. The idea of lying out in the sun while his brother completed the finishing touches was just what the doctor ordered! He unbuttoned his shirt and lay down on the riser so that the left side of his body was turned towards Happy, giving him easy access to the tat. The sun blazed in his eyes, so he draped one arm over them while cushioning the back of his head with the other.

Happy didn't bother to engage his brother in conversation. He concentrated on the job at hand; talking was too much of a distraction. He dipped the makeshift tool into a bottle of ink and pressed it firmly into the SSA's skin in the tat's outlines. It took several applications to make the tattoo as dark as those done in a professional shop.

Tig winced when the cool ink first touched his flesh, but otherwise didn't make a sound as his brother worked. 'I'd have thought that shit would've picked up a little warmth from lyin' out!' He complained. Still, he was grateful to have some down time. His thoughts drifted to his wife, thinking of her dealing with friends of her father's and family members during the dinner. 'They've probably planted Blaine by now and gathering for that meal,' he mused. Thinking of her family reminded him of the person who'd given him an angry glare as she passed the laptop earlier. 'Shit! I forgot to ask Cat about that gash giving me the stinkeye! Guess it'll have to wait for the next phone call.'

Happy put his tool aside and gently dabbed the ink covered area with a piece of cloth he'd brought with him for that purpose. "You look perturbed, brother. Wanna quit?"

"Nah," Tig grunted.

"Somethings got you pissed, if it's not the tat, what's wrong?"

Tig sighed and lifted his arm slightly from his eyes as if waving off a pesky fly. "Just some bullshit nonsense that happened at the end of the service. One of Cat's family gave me the stinkeye before falling all over my girl."

"Hell, that's nothing new!" Happy laughed. "Civilians are always givin' you the stinkeye."

"There was just no reason for the gash to dis me!" Tig retorted. "I never met her and Cat told her people I'm a mechanic who rides with other Harley owners and has some businesses on the side."

"Ya know, that rally against 'LOAN' was online, and we wore our cuts to it; maybe the gal saw 'em and put two and two together," Happy observed.

Tig shook his head. "I don't see how! She didn't strike me as having the brains to put two and two together without coming up with the wrong answer!"

"I wouldn't let it worry ya, brother," Happy assured him. "The only person there whose opinion should matter most is Cat's."

"True dat," Tig sighed.

Happy resumed work on the tribute tat while Tig relaxed. 'I kinda understand why he had me make Donna look like a doll. They scare the shit outta him, and he doesn't wanna forget why and how that fuck up happened. Guess having something you fear or hate on your body is a good way to remember!'

Happy lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, admiring his work. The latest ink application was blending nicely with the earlier ones. No one would know it was a prison tat done over time. He picked up the folded paper he'd slipped under his leg and gazed at the two designs he'd made. He still wasn't sure which he was going to use. There was the 'C ' that adorned the back of Cat's motorcycle trunk, but he was more attached to the other design. It was simple and left no doubt about its' meaning: '=^^='

'Think I'll go with the simpler one,' Happy decided. 'It'll take less time and there's less chance that the ink won't match up. I'm lucky this tribute tat turned out as well as it did.'

"You done, brother?" Tig rumbled.

"kinda," Happy replied. "Sit up. Got somethin' to show you."

"Is it done?" Tig inquired, moving into a sitting position on the riser. He blinked and focused on the tat on his chest. "Looks good, bro."

"Thanks. I had an idea for another tat for ya," Happy explained, passing the paper with the drawings to the SAA.

"Another? You tryin' to turn me into Jax?" Tig snorted. "You know how I feel about body art."

"Yeah, but this one is for the sake of marital tranquility," Happy grinned, waiting for Tig's reaction.

Tig looked down at the paper and smirked. "Cat's not the jealous type."

"All women are jealous," Happy chuckled. "Some just take longer than others to show it."

Tig looked at the tribute tat, then the drawings Happy had given him. "You're prolly right," he snorted. "Do the simpler one with the lines," he instructed, reclining on the riser again.

"Where do ya want it?" Happy asked, picking up the tool he used to make the tat outline on skin.

Tig reached out to loosen his belt and unzipped his pants. "Somewhere close to my heart where she'll see it."

Otto sat motionless in the interview room. He kept his features schooled in a bored expression to mask his bewilderment at having an attorney meeting. The club hadn't paid his lawyer fees for some time, and his public defender didn't do shit about keeping him informed on his defense. 'Not that I want a defense. There's not much left to my life with LuAnn gone,' He understood why the club had left him high and dry; there wasn't much he could do for them now that he was on death row. It was part of the life and he accepted that.

A loud buzz announced the arrival of the lawyer. Otto looked in the direction of the opening door, his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise to see Ally Lowen walk in and sit down in the chair opposite him. He hadn't expected to see a representative from the club.

Ally waited to speak until the door closed, though she knew the cameras above their heads would pick up every word they spoke. She kept her hands in her lap, clenching them to stop their shaking. Otto was unpredictable, even though his hands were cuffed and chained to the table.

'So are we playing stare down, or do you have a reason for being here?" Otto growled. "I doubt you're takin' over my defense."

"No, unless you want me to," she acknowledged, inwardly grateful that her voice didn't waiver.

"I don't exactly have the money to pay you," Otto remarked. "They don't pay minimum wage here."

"True," Ally smiled slightly. "But you may be able to afford me in the near future."

"Explain, woman," Otto growled.

Ally reached into her briefcase and brought out her notepad, which she placed on the table in front of her. She ripped off the top sheet and slid it across the table to the prisoner.

"What the fuck is this?" Otto flicked the yellow paper away as if it were a pesky insect.

"It's a way for you to put some money aside for your future," Ally replied.

"I don't have a future, mouthpiece!" Otto snarled.

"You might," Ally stated quietly, stiffening her spine against Otto's anger. 'He's on the other side of the table; he's chained to it. He can't hurt you!' She reminded herself.

"You'd better start making sense right now, lawyer!" Otto barked. He was highly irritated over her drawing out the visit the way she was. He wanted her to get to the point and be done with it.

"The club is getting into another legal money making venture," Ally explained coolly, adding that several properties related to the club had nearly been lost to Jacob Hale over unpaid property taxes.

"What's that got to do with me?"

"Your house was one of those the club saved from Hale's clutches. Like yours, a few of them are vacant, so the club is going into property management," she replied, outlining the 'Crows' Nest Properties' venture.

"I still don't see why you're coming to me with this shit," Otto snorted.

"Because Cat asked that you be consulted about your house," Ally retorted. "That sheet you so callously flicked away was her offer." She prepared herself for a verbal explosion, but it never came. Instead, Otto's fierce expression softened into a small smile.

"That makes a difference," he admitted. He had a soft spot for Tig's wife ever since she'd taken responsibility for him during LuAnn's funeral. She treated like him like an honored guest instead of someone she had to keep an eagle eye on during his furlough. That meant a lot to him at the time, and still did. He'd also figured out that she was responsible for his receiving a weekly commissary allowance. He reached out to snag the yellow sheet and slid it back in front of him. He noticed that Ally had taken his bad eyesight into consideration from the large lettering, but pushed it back to her with a terse, "Read it."

Ally read the agreement from her notepad. In exchange for allowing 'Crows' Nest Properties' to rent out the home he'd shared with LuAnn, 10% of each month's rental would be put into an account in his name. All the Delaney's personal items currently in storage would remain stored. A one-time payment for use of the furnishings was also included.

"Ten percent of the rental each month," Otto mused. "And what's the monthly rental going to be?"

Ally slid the yellow page back in front of Otto and pointed to the planned amount. No need for anyone monitoring the conversation to know more about his business than they had to.

"That's going to take it out of any biker's ability to pay," Otto frowned.

"She doesn't intend to just rent to the biker community," Ally explained. "The clientele is too limited. The rentals will be available to civilians as well as SAMCRO and their affiliates."

"Smart woman," Otto nodded after several moments' silence. "There's no club secrets at the house; it's been sitting vacant since the funeral. The club's not had time to put it on the market. If it means legit income for the club, she has my blessing. What do I need to do to make it official?"

"I'll draw up the agreement and have Cat sign it when she gets back—"

"Gets back? From where?" Otto barked sharply. Concern for his friend's well-being evident in his tone.

'Shit! He shouldn't have to find out this way, and today of all days!' Ally realized, wincing painfully. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I forgot you're not privy to the prison yard gossip."

"Is she a'right?" Otto growled.

"Physically, yes. She's in Indiana. Her father died; the funeral was today."

Otto closed his eyes against the brief pain in his heart. He didn't know her father, but he did know how much Cat loved him; it had been present in everything she'd told Otto during that brief furlough. "Shit!" He sighed. "Poor baby. She told me her father wasn't her friend; he disciplined her when she needed it, but he always did it with love, whether she knew it at the time or not."

Ally nodded in agreement. She'd heard such from Cat many times.

"I guess it really sucks for her havin' Tig stuck here," Otto added. "Guess there's no bond high enough to allow a prisoner to go outta state for a funeral."

"It seems that way," she replied. She wasn't about to make Otto feel left out by mentioning that Tig had been able to participate via video conferencing.

"Give her my love and condolences when you talk to her again. And tell her thanks," Otto continued.

"I – I will," she stammered through a lump in her throat. Otto's evident friendly feelings for Tig's wife had unsettled her more than his usual fierce demeanor.

Otto smiled again, that same soft smile when Ally had mentioned Cat. "That means for everything," he added firmly.

"Wh – what do you mean by that?" Ally asked. 'I don't think he means the income.'

"She'll know." Otto grinned ferally.

The roar of Harley engines alerted 'Brownie' to the club's return to the motel that evening. He peeked out the curtains to find four of the six bikes parked in a row outside doors across the lot from his room. A small car bearing Indiana plates and a rental sticker slid to a stop beside the bikes. The girl 'Brownie' presumed to be Cat's step-daughter got out of the driver's side to stand and talk to the bikers before she disappeared into a room not far from his.

'That answers that question!' He grinned. "Fat Fuck's step kid! Might be interesting to tap that, since they seem pretty close. That would really mess with her mind!'

The bikers remained clustered in the parking lot, lit cigarettes dangling from their lips or waving in the air as punctuation to their conversation. 'Brownie' opened his window just a bit and found that he could hear them as clearly as if he were standing beside them. He ascertained that the following day would bring about more sorting and packing, along with a visit to the lawyer for the reading of the will.

'Well! That might be interesting! Little fat ass might come outta that with money for me to get my hands on!' He wouldn't be able to get it while she was in Vincennes, but he'd get his hands on her inheritance. It was just a matter of time.

A light tapping on the bedroom door roused Cat from a deep sleep. The bedroom was dark indicating night had fallen. "Who dat?" She called out, her voice froggy with sleep.

"Me, dat who dat!" Jan called through the closed door. "You decent?"

"Never, but I am dressed," she quipped, propping herself against the head of the bed and turning on the lamp on the nearby bed table. "C'mon in."

Jan limped through the door and sat down at the foot of the bed. "I know you're tired, Lil Sis, but you need to eat. Figured I'd wake you and bring you out to the kitchen for a bit."

"The 'Illinois Boys' gone for the day?" She asked her voice less croaky as she reached for her glasses.

"Yeah, and the kid," Jan replied tersely. "She's somethin' else."

"You can say that again!" Cat snorted, getting off the bed to follow him out to the kitchen. "She's still adjusting to my marriage to her father."

"If you say so, Lil Sis," Jan sniffed over his shoulder. "Something tells me tomorrow's meeting with the lawyer is going to be interesting with her there!"

"Let's not go borrowin' trouble, big brother," Cat pleaded. "One headache at a time!"

They passed through the living room, where Chuckie and Adrian were watching television. They leapt from their chairs to greet her.

"Are you OK, Miss Cat?" Chuckie inquired worriedly.

Cat smiled reassuringly at him. "Not really, my friend, but I'm tryin' to get there. Did you enjoy dinner?"

"Oh, yes!" He grinned. "Despite what happened to me, I still love Oriental food!"

Jan lifted an inquiring eyebrow at his sister, who shook her head and replied, "Y'all really don't wanna know, big brother."

"Anything you want us to do, Miss Cat?" Adrian asked.

"Just relax tonight. We'll be pretty busy the next few days, so enjoy the downtime while y'all can."

They entered the kitchen where the Oriental food was still spread out on the counter. "Daniel was getting ready to put it away, but I wanted you to get something in your stomach first."

"I'd have to warm it up in the microwave, anyway," Cat grinned. Her grin spread when Daniel opened the refrigerator to reveal a plate he'd stashed away for her, filled with her favorite dishes.

"I'll do the honors, Cat. You just get comfortable," Daniel suggested.

"I will as soon as I pour some of that Jack Daniels into a glass!" She replied, reaching into the cupboard for a juice glass. She'd spied the quart bottle of whiskey in the fridge and felt that was just what was needed to help her relax.

"Should you imbibe, Lil Sis?" Jan asked worriedly. "I heard about the last time you had JD."

"I was a new widow, then," she laughed, filling the small glass to the brim. "Leave the bottle, though." She threw back the whiskey, enjoying the burn as it rushed down her throat.

Daniel set the warmed plate in front of her and moved the bottle just out of her reach. "No more until you eat a bit," he growled.

"Y'all plannin' on watchin' to make sure I eat?" She grinned, though there was a hint of a challenge in her tone.

"If we have to," Jan retorted.

"You don't. I won't be able to finish all of this, though," she sighed.

"No worries, sis," Daniel assured her. "We have plenty of leftovers."

Adrian and Chuckie hovered in the entrance to the kitchen, the television program they'd been watching long forgotten. "What's the plan for tomorrow?" Adrian inquired.

"Us three and other family members are meeting with Dad's lawyer in the morning," Jan explained so Cat could eat in peace. "Guess you boys can continue sorting through the library and study."

"We're pretty much done with the study," Chuckie acknowledged.

"If that's the case, I'd appreciate it if all y'all – meanin' you two – would go through Daddy's closet and drawers, sort things, and when we get back, I'll know what can go to where or whom," Cat added before returning to her meal.

"I accept that," Chuckie grinned.

"Me too," Adrian chimed in.

"Gonna give the clothes to Goodwill or St Vincent De Paul, Lil Sis?" Jan inquired.

"Maybe. Mac might be able to use some of the shirts and things, but the bulk will go to Kentucky Mountain Mission," she replied.

"What's that?" Daniel queried.

"It's a charitable arm of the United Methodist Church," she explained. "The Appalachians are notoriously poverty stricken. The Mission has done a great job over the years of providing clothes those people might not otherwise be able to afford."

"I'm sure things like your dad's flannel shirts and jeans will come in handy, and probably the coats," Adrian observed. "But what use would suits and ties be to them?"

"You'd be surprised!" Cat grinned. "Just because they're dirt poor doesn't mean they don't want to look nice at church or some other special event!"

"That's all well and good, Lil Sis, but I'd think the last thing you'd want to do would be support something affiliated with the Conference!" Daniel pointed out.

"I'm not happy with the way they dissed Daddy," she admitted grimly. "But y'all don't throw out a whole bushel of tomatoes because one of 'em's rotten. You throw out the rotten one and wash the rest."

"What do you mean, Miss Cat?" Chuckie inquired. His face reflected his confusion over her reference.

"It means that just because the local idiots in charge screwed up doesn't mean I'm turnin' my back on the overall good work the mission does. Besides," she grinned slyly, "Daddy supported it, so that's more than good enough for me!"

"Well," Jan shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, "I guess that settles that."

"I wish other matters would settle as easily," Cat sighed.

"You're thinking about that meeting tomorrow," Daniel observed.

She nodded, "I've got a bad feeling about it."

Daniel and Jan exchanged knowing glances. They weren't fooled by Dawn's behavior during the funeral. She had let a few selfish comments slip from time to time during the work on the house. Though Jan couldn't prove it, he had a suspicion that Dawn was helping herself to valuables, though not as greedily as the 'Little Princess' had done at Blaine's parents' home. He and Daniel had both caught Dawn in Blaine's study, pawing through the desk as if looking for something. They had kept an eye on he since then, but if she was taking things for herself, she was doing a good job of hiding it from them.

Tig lay in his bunk staring at the ceiling. The area where Happy had applied his new cat tat smarted, but that wasn't what was keeping him awake. His mind kept replaying the song his wife sang to her father, because it was so hauntingly familiar. He couldn't remember what the song was called, which added to his discomfort. He snorted and turned over in his bunk, tapping a finger impatiently on the metal while he hummed the tune to himself.

"What the Hell's wrong with you!" Bobby grumbled from the bunk beneath him. "You're keepin' me awake with all that tappin' and hummin'!" He rubbed his eyes, which widened at the thought that his brother might need to talk. He added, "You a'right?"

"Sorry, brother," Tig grunted. "Can't sleep. Didn't mean to wake you."

"You prolly can't sleep 'cause ya didn't talk to your woman tonight," Bobby remarked.

"It's not that, bro. I can go one night without talkin' to her!" Tig protested.

"Then what's with all the noise?"

"I'm bugged about something Cat did today at the funeral," Tig admitted.

Bobby sighed and sat up, threw his legs over the edge of the bed, and reached under it for his pack of cigarettes. He tapped one out and passed it up to Tig before tapping another out for himself.

Tig accepted the smoke and leaned over to get a light, giving his cellmate an apologetic look. He hated disturbing Bobby, but if anyone might know the name of the music, it was Bobby Elvis.

Bobby lit his smoke and leaned back against the wall. "I'm listening, brother. I know it was rough for you seeing her all broke up."

'Naw, that's not the problem," Tig snickered, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. He lay with one hand behind his head. "She thought she might have to sing during the service 'cause the original singer Blaine wanted wasn't available."

"Shit!" Bobby exclaimed through a plume of smoke. "That'd be enough to mess anyone up! Poor kid!"

"Didn't happen. Funeral home got a singer. But you know how my girl is, she had something prepped and sang it to him after everyone was outta the room. I was the only person to hear it."

Bobby slid forward on his bed and stood up so he could look directly at Tig. "So what the Hell is bugging you about that?"

Tig sat up to face his brother. "Not a damn thing! It's just that the tune's been in my head all day. It's bugging me 'cause I can't place it."

"You've keep me up over an ear worm?" Bobby snorted, which was part laugh and part exasperation.

"What the fuck is an ear worm?" Tig growled, failing to see the humor in the situation.

"Getting a song stuck in your head and not knowing the title," Bobby snickered. "I might know it if you give me a few bars. I couldn't tell shit from your humming."

"I'm no singer!" Tig protested.

"I'd rather have my ears bleed for a few seconds from your poor excuse for singing than being kept up all night by all your noise!" Bobby growled. "Let's hear it!"

Tig sighed in resignation. "A'right, brother. You asked for it." He mumbled a few lines in a gravelly voice.

Bobby's eyes closed as he listened. The tune was definitely familiar to him, too. It finally dawned on him where he'd heard it; during one of the movie nights at the coffeehouse. "That's a David Bowie tune, brother, 'While the World Falls Down'. It's from the movie 'Labyrinth' that was shown at the coffeehouse once. She sang that love song to her Dad?!"

"Hell no!" Tig snorted. "She's no pervert!"

"You could've rubbed off on her!" Bobby pointed out.

Tig tossed his cigarette butt at the toilet, hitting the bowl for once instead of the floor. "She changed the lyrics."

"Thank God for that!" Bobby sighed in relief, disposing of his cigarette butt in the toilet. "She's good at that. Remember Hale's funeral? She made up decent lyrics to 'In the Name of Love'."

"Yeah, we watched it at Nate's house," Tig recalled..

"She's got a talent for figurin' out the best tune for an occasion and making up lyrics that fit. I imagine the lyrics she came up with for that song fit."

"It did," Tig agreed. "I was bugged about that bit about who'd be with her while her world fell down."

"Yeowtch," Bobby grimaced. "Did you remind her she's not alone?"

"She didn't need to be reminded," Tig shrugged. "You don't get it, bro."

"Hey! I'm a parent!" Bobby complained.

"The relationship between boys and their fathers are different from girls and their fathers."

'I dunno if Dawn and Fawn would be as heartbroken to lose you,' Bobby thought. 'They'd be sad, but they're not as close to you as Cat was to her Pops.' Aloud he murmured, "That's true. Picking a song from that movie makes sense. Your wife really loves that movie, and the Goblin King."

"Tell me something I don't already know!" Tig snorted. "It's bad enough that she has a thing for that Scottish dude who bought Opie's bike, then there's some actor named Kim and the guy that plays Han Solo. How the fuck do ya fight an imaginary opponent?"

"Jealous much?" Bobby inquired.

"I am where sharing her attention is concerned," Tig admitted.

"It's not like she's fucking those guys, Tiggy," Bobby protested. "I know you're possessive, but let her have her fantasies. It doesn't hurt anyone!"

"I should be the only man she fantasizes about!" Tig complained.

"Mark my words, brother," Bobby laughed, stretching out on his mattress and getting comfortable again. "She does. And a Hell of a lot more than she fantasizes about them!"

"You sure?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, but sympathized with the still newlywed biker. "You'll know when she doesn't hold you in high esteem. To quote another song, Cat's 'hopelessly devoted to you', brother. Relax. Cat's not Colleen. You'll prolly break her heart more than she'll break yours."

Tig didn't reply and Bobby took that to mean his brother would be OK the rest of the night. He turned over to face the wall, closed his eyes, and was soon snoring. That's when Tig murmured, "That's what I'm afraid of."

June smiled in delight when she heard the ring tone she'd assigned to her daughter's number. "Hello, sweetie!"

"Hey, Mom! Didn't see you on line today. Everything OK?"

"Yes, dear," June assured her with a laugh. "I've just been busy with other things. What's up?"

"Have you been in contact with Aunt Cat today?"

"No, I thought I'd wait until tomorrow; she's probably to exhausted to talk to anyone now," June replied.

"You guessed right, Mom. The service went well, but the after burial dinner was a complete disaster!" Adair reported.

"What happened? Did someone show their ass?"

"In spades," her daughter replied. "One of her relatives – a cousin I think- ripped into Aunt Cat about Uncle Alex being a felon instead of overseas on a job assignment as was reported at the service." Critter paused a moment before adding, "Aunt Cat admitted that he is prison. Is he really a criminal?"

'So she continued the ruse for the funeral!' June mused. She knew about his incarceration because June was the only person Cat could trust to talk about her worries related to Alex and SAMCRO. "No, honey!" June sighed. "I wouldn't have stayed with them if I thought there was any danger. He's intense, but he really loves Cat."

"I noticed. He was able to view the service via one of those video conference programs. Her laptop was on the seat next to her, so I introduced myself to him. He's kinda rough, but seemed nice enough. I was really worried when she confirmed her cousin's accusation, but didn't talk to Cat about it."

"That's probably best," June assured her. "Sounds like Cat was going through the wringer as it was. Are you home now?"

"Just got in a little bit ago. There's something else bothering me about the funeral, Mom. There was this guy sitting next to me, dark skinned and bald, but about the same age as you and Cat. He gave me the creeps!"

"Why?"

"I know it sounds wacky, but every time he looked at me, it felt like he was undressing me with his eyes, even after I told him I was married. He didn't strike me as the type of person Rev. Marshall would've known well enough for the guy to attend his funeral. And the really weird thing is that he didn't speak to Aunt Cat or any of her family,' she explained

'Except for the description being off by a mile, it sounds a lot like 'Brownie'!' June shuddered at the idea of her former college friend being anywhere near her child. June had also been friends with 'Brownie', but cut off all contact with him after he nearly murdered Cat. "I'm sure it was just your imagination, sweetie," June replied soothingly.

"It wasn't my imagination, Mom!" Adair protested. "There was nothing imaginary about the way he was looking at me, nor my reaction to it. The only thing that made me feel safe was the presence of the bikers!"

"Bikers? Were they in a club?" June inquired. She wondered if it was a charter of the one Alex belonged to. 'Alex knows all about 'Brownie', he'd want Cat kept safe; it makes sense that he'd ask a nearby charter to look after her.'

"I don't know," Adair sighed. "They weren't wearing any kind of vests like outlaws wear. They looked like they could handle any trouble."

"Cat owned and rode a motorcycle for years and knew a lot of people who rode, not necessarily in clubs. It's possible they were just friends that came out to support her," June reminded her.

"I suppose that's possible. So are you going to call Aunt Cat later?"

"I'll wait until tomorrow. From the sounds of things, I think she needs some space and quiet time to herself. You have a good night, and thanks for bringing me up to speed on things up there."

"G'nite, Mom," Adair replied. "Love you."

"This is bullshit!" Dawn yelled, pushing her chair from the conference table and leaping to her feet. "Absolute bullshit!" She stormed to the door, opened it and slammed it behind her with enough force to make the pictures on the wall rattle.

"Dawn, come back!" Cat's plea couldn't penetrate the door. Her face flushed with embarrassment and anger over her step – daughter's rude exit. She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, casting an apologetic glance at the other occupants. "I'd better go after her."

She exited the conference room more sedately than Dawn and limped hurriedly down the hall. She managed to catch up with Dawn just before she reached the exit. "I asked you to wait, young woman!" Cat growled, grabbing Dawn by the shoulder to stop her progress. "What's the big idea of stormin' out like someone lit a firecracker under your seat?"

Dawn glared at her step - mother and wrenched out from under her hand. "Let go of me!" She hissed. "You betrayed us!"

Cat had activated her digital recording device when the meeting began, so she'd have a more accurate accounting of it. She was glad she'd brought it along in case Dawn caused trouble, even though Alex had told her not to both with such devices some time ago. Cat knew from previous, bitter experience that it was better to have recordings and not need them than vice versa. The audio recordings had saved her from many dire consequences brought about by troublemakers making unfounded accusations.

Dawn's harsh accusation caught her by surprise. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't play dumb with me! You told Grandpa Blaine not to trust any of his grand kids with his money!"

"I don't quite follow your logic, kiddo," Cat replied. "You heard the lawyer explain the will was modified the same week that your father and I got married in Vegas!"

"You could've told Grandpa Blaine that when he got married!" Dawn insisted hotly. "After all, your step – mother's family was competition for you!"

"Could've doesn't make it so," Cat pointed out. "At the time Daddy and Miriam wed, I had no idea what he was bequestin' to whom or why. Frankly, I had no expectation that he'd bequest anything to me, period, much less any grandchildren related by blood or marriage!"

"That doesn't mean shit!" Dawn screamed. "You told him not to give Fawn and I a red cent!"

"What the Hell have y'all been smokin', girl?" Cat snorted. "He left all you step - grand kids a nest egg; he was just lookin' out for all y'all's best interests by havin' it held until you kids turn 30. Christine sure as Hell isn't out here havin' a frackin' temper tantrum!"

Dawn snorted and rolled her eyes.

"I noticed ya'll got quite a kick outta hearin' that Daddy put his financial adviser in charge of my inheritance," Cat continued silkily. "Keep in mind that I've got a few more years on you kids!"

"As if that matters!" Dawn snarled. "This trip was just a waste of my time and money! I'm not staying here another minute just to be insulted again!"

Though she'd suspected that Dawn had ulterior motives all along for coming to Vincennes, Cat had hoped she was wrong. Dawn's behavior in the days leading up to the funeral made her believe she was making positive inroads with her step – daughter. When that façade began to crumble during the family dinner after the burial, she still held out some hope, but now she knew for sure that Dawn had been playing at caring for her just to see how much money she would get from her 'grandpa'.

Dawn's bravado deflated with the realization she had no transportation; she'd left her car at the house and ridden in with Cat and Christine. 'Oh, damn! I don't feel like walking in these high heels!' Her eyes lit up when she spied Cavey leaning against his Harley. 'Maybe I can bitch ride with him!'

Cavey had accompanied the group to the lawyer's office, but chose to wait in the parking lot while the will was being read. He was the only witness to the verbal hissing match between the two women and winced when he heard Dawn's scathing comments. 'That's gotta 'urt Lady Cat!' He strolled across the lot, passing Dawn without acknowledging her.

She glared angrily at him for the snub, but Cavey didn't give a shit about Dawn's feelings; he was more concerned about his friend. He lay a sympathetic arm around Cat's shoulders and asked, "You a'right?"

"No," Cat replied tersely. "But y'all can help make things a little better."

Cavey shuddered inwardly. He knew what she was going to ask of him, and he really didn't relish the idea of being alone with the mother SAA's daughter. "That's not a good idea, Lady Cat. I'm 'ere to keep an eye out for trouble."

"I don't think 'Brownie's' goin' to try anything here," Cat pointed out dryly. "He has an allergy to all things related to law. My brothers are here, and they're no slouches when it comes to lookin' out for me."

Cavey frowned in consternation. It didn't feel right to leave Cat unprotected for any length of time, but he couldn't deny her request. His shoulders slumped as he sighed in resignation. "A'right, Lady Cat. I'll give 'er a lift back to yer father's 'ouse." He glanced at Dawn and added, "C'mon, then."

Dawn launched one final salvo as the biker loped back to his bike. "Daddy's gonna hear all about this!" She spat. "And when he finds out what you did to me and Fawn, he'll want nothing to do with you!" She stormed across the lot and triumphantly settled on the seat behind Cavey, ignoring the fact that her short skirt barely kept her nether regions covered.

Cavey shook his head and started the Harley, allowing the engine roar to reflect his opinion.

"I accept that!" Cat grinned, sympathizing with the biker. "I'll owe y'all one, darlin'." She watched their departure until the bike rolled onto the street. sighing in resignation as Dawn flipped one final rude gesture her way. She pulled the recorder out of her pocket, turned it off and stuck it back in her pocket. 'Hopefully I'll never need this, but it's goin' to go to my computer file for safe keeping. Now to salvage things with the lawyer and my family!'

'Brownie' spent the morning watching the Marshall house from a secluded spot behind the hotel. The bikers and the girl had left the hotel, leaving him free to venture outside. He needed to get an idea of the outlaws' routine before he ventured too far from the safety of his hotel room.

The stakeout required a lot of sitting, waiting, and staring through his collapsible telescope. He was used to that kind of thing and was prepared to do it as long as necessary. 'I can always scope out robbery targets at night. That's the best time for a town like this anyway!'

Not only did he watch Cat's brothers coming and going from the house, but he noticed the presence of three 'civilians'. One was an older gent 'Brownie' determined had been a friend of Blaine Marshall's, while the two younger ones he assumed had some kind of association to his nemesis. 'Wonder if they're local or if they're goin' back with her?' The latter might prove a little problematic to his plans to prank her on the road. It was just one of many little matters he'd have to study and make allowances for. It would all be worth it in the long run, he just had to keep reminding himself of that.

He perked up a bit when he watched Cat emerge from the house and get into her father's Chrysler, accompanied by the black haired chick staying in the motel and another young woman. He licked his lips like a wolf cornering sheep. One of the bikers rode behind the car, followed by a van holding the two brothers and another young woman. 'Hmm, must be will reading time. Wish I could be a fly on the wall for that! Be nice to know what kind of nest egg the old fart set up for her.'

He jotted down some notes in the small notepad he carried with him. Then he pointed his telescope at the sliding glass door to see what activities were going on inside the Marshall residence.

"You OK, Lil Sis?" Jan inquired worriedly when Cat returned to the conference room.

"Yeah," She assured them tiredly. "Dawn's decided to go back to California. Cavey's givin' her a lift to the house. She'll likely be well on the way by the time we get done here. She sends her regrets that she didn't come back to say a proper 'goodbye'."

Daniel choked and sputtered in disbelief, earning a couple of sound thumps on the back from his older brother. "Guess our niece was a little too embarrassed to face us after the way she stormed out of here," Jan offered diplomatically.

"Sure, and if you believe that, there's swamp land for sale cheap in the desert!" Daniel croaked.

Christine snickered behind her hand while the lawyer shuffled through the papers lying in front of him. Jan stopped thumping his brother's back to pour a glass of water for his afflicted brother. "Here, drink this while we discuss the 800 pound gorilla in the room."

"She must've expected a different outcome from the one we all got," Christine remarked.

"As much as it pains me to do so, I have to agree," Cat sighed, leaning her elbows on the table to rub her temples. "I apologize to all y'all for her behavior."

"Would you quit that!" Jan growled. "You're not responsible for her behavior for cryin' out loud! The girl's an adult, though she acts like a spoiled brat!"

Cat started to protest, but Jan cut her off with a preemptive wave of his hand. "Don't even try sis! You know I'm right!"

"There's really nothing to apologize for," the lawyer interjected before a family feud erupted. "Her reaction was relatively mild compared to other ones I've had the 'privilege of witnessing."

"Besides, sis," Daniel added. "Jan and I knew it was just a matter of time before she showed her true colors."

"She showed more than that!" Cat observed shakily.

"We're nearly finished," the lawyer interjected. "Does anyone have any questions about the stipulations?"

They shook their heads. The lawyer had prepared copies for Cat and her brothers, which they'd read to themselves as the lawyer read the document aloud.

"Well, my contact information is on the front page of your copies, so you can reach out to me any time you need to," the lawyer remarked, gathering his papers together.

Cat reached into her pocket and removed a folded sheet of paper that she slid across the table to the attorney. "This has my lawyer's contact information back in Charming. Would y'all mind makin' sure the financial adviser gets a copy? She handles my business affairs."

Daniel and Jan handed the lawyer similar folded sheets. "We figured you'd need the same from us," Daniel explained.

The lawyer slipped the papers into a folder. "I'll see to it that your lawyers are contacted and the financial advisor gets this information, Mrs. Trager," he assured them. He slid an envelope with the Methodist cross and flame insignia in the corner across to Cat. "Your father wanted you to have this letter," he explained. "Again, I'm sorry for your loss," his glance took in Christine and the two men. "Blaine was a good friend. He'll be sorely missed."

'Y'all aren't whistlin' 'Dixie'!' Cat thought.

Cavey rolled his Harley to a stop next to Dawn's parked rental in the Marshall driveway. The girl slid off the bike before he put the kickstand down. It was obvious she didn't want to talk about the confrontation he'd witnessed. The outlaw wasn't about to let her off the hook so easily. He dismounted from his bike and intercepted Dawn before she could unlock her car door. "Not so fast, darlin'. What the fuck was goin' on back there between you an' Cat?"

"None of your fuckin' business, asshole!" Dawn snarled, wrenching her arm from his grasp.

"Wrong answer," Cavey growled, sliding between Dawn and the car door. "The fact that Lady Cat asked me to bring you 'ere makes it my business!"

"Lady?!" Dawn laughed nastily. "Bitch is more like it! She really has you fooled with her goody – goody act!"

'She must've expected a big pay day from her step – grandfather, and blames Cat for not gettin' it!' Cavey raised an eyebrow and inquired quietly, "Just what makes you say that?"

"That bitch screwed me and my sister over big time over our inheritance!" Dawn snapped. "She obviously told her 'Dear Daddy' about me and -" Her eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut as she realized she almost told the outlaw more than she wanted to tell.

'This girl is gettin' on my tits!' Cavey frowned. It had been obvious to all the bikers from the minute Dawn arrived that something wasn't quite right between the two women. Though Cat treated the girl with the same acceptance and warmth she gave everyone else, there was a noticeable tension between them. Cavey's sympathies leaned more towards his friend than the mother SAA's daughter, just based on his experiences with Dawn.

"You never intended to support Lady Cat by comin' 'ere," Cavey drawled menacingly. "It was all just an act until the will was read. You didn't get what you wanted, and you blame 'er, but maybe you should look in the mirror!"

"You're not my father! You can't talk that way to me!" Dawn howled angrily.

"Thank Gawd I'm not, or your ass would be too sore to sit on!" Cavey retorted. "What the fuck 'as Lady Cat ever done to you?"

"She married my father!" Dawn spat, her eyes bright with angry tears. "I can't stand her!"

The cause of the tension became clear to Cavey. The girl was jealous and would continue to believe the worst about her step – mother because she didn't want any other woman taking Tig's attention from her. The chip on Dawn's shoulder was a mile wide and almost as long across. He shifted away from the car as if he'd just smelled something rotten. "If you feel that way, darlin', get on outta 'ere."

"That's what I was trying to do when you got in the way!" Dawn huffed, ripping the door open and sliding behind the steering wheel. "I suppose you're gonna report this to my father!"

Cavey shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Not my business. If 'e wants to know what we discussed, 'e's welcome to ask me."

"Bullshit! You'll tell her, and she'll rat me out!" Dawn snorted.

'It'd hurt Lady Cat too much!' he thought, shaking his head again. "I don't intend to tell your step – mum about this conversation. It's between you and me."

"Time will tell. If Daddy finds out about this, I'll know you squealed!" She slammed the door shut, leaving Cavey shaking his head in puzzlement. He sauntered inside the house to update BZ.

Cat remained in the conference room after her brothers and niece departed to take time to read her father's last letter to her in private. She suspected the contents were intended to explain her inheritance, but she wanted to read it anyway.

"My dear daughter," the letter began.

"I've actually dictated this to the lawyer, as I just don't have the strength to type, as you well know. Now that I've gone home and can't talk to you by phone every day, it's important that you know a few things.

"Your cousin, Alan Jr., did a background check on Alex, just like he did on Bill. I know that there's more to Alex's background than being a 'mechanic who happens to ride a Harley and has an entrepreneurial inclination'. He did some prison time, and the group he rides with is an outlaw motorcycle club. I'm not worried that he's going to corrupt you into a criminal lifestyle; you're smart and you always follow your conscience. As far as I'm concerned, he's been punished and deserves to be judged on his current merits. Everything I saw when you two visited informs me I have nothing to worry about where your welfare is concerned. He loves you immensely and is protective of you, sometimes a little too protective, but that's better than some of the men you've been with, so I won't complain. I'm not real happy that you lied to me about him, but the reason for the lie is understandable; you didn't want to cause me undue worry. I forgive that because you have always been protective of your family."

Cat felt her eyes well with tears. Her father's confession at knowing about Alex was no surprise, he admitted he knew the truth before he died. The gentle rebuke was typical of him.

"The reason I've put the trust in our financial adviser's keeping is for your best interests and protection. I can't help remembering how 'Brownie' used your love for him against you, and robbed you of every penny you had, and almost robbed you of life! It's not intended to be an insult to Alex. I find him to be an outstanding man, very loyal to you and the things he believes in. I also appreciate the fact that he served our country in the military.

"I'm sending a letter to him via the lawyer. As protective as you tend to be, you might decide to keep it from him instead of letting him read it. He needs to read that letter, Cat, which is why it's not being sent back with you. I also don't want to put you and your inheritance in a compromising position with the club. The safeguards I've put in place are more for my peace of mind. I want you to have the wherewithal to rebuild your life should the need arise. God willing, there will be no need, but having a solid foundation to stand on helps. Much better than having your feet planted firmly in mid- air.

"I know it sounds a little funny to think of my own peace of mind when I'm not alive to watch out for you, Cat. That's something I've done your entire life. Sometimes I had to say 'No' when you asked me for financial help. It wasn't easy, but you had to learn to fly under your own power, just as I had to learn at your age. Maybe it's my attempt to make up for not coming to your rescue every time you cried for help. You learned to soar and I'm proud of that. I'm proud of the woman you've become. If God allows, I'll continue to watch over you in the Afterlife. No one knows how that really works, but I'll do my best. That's all I've ever been able to do. You can tell the step –grandchildren that your past experience with 'Brownie' and your inheritance from your Grandmother Humphries is the reason I took precautions with their trusts. They may not appreciate it now, but they might thank me later."

Cat smiled mistily, she could imagine her father's lopsided grin when he made that statement.

"I know you've had issues with your religious life since Bill died, and have become one of those Christmas and Easter attendees – "

"Um, sometimes just Christmas, Daddy," she admitted softly.

"—but you also had the best religious training I could give you, and your faith is strong, even if your belief in religious institutions is shaky. You are one of God's creations, and He loves you, never forget that. You were the light of my life. I loved you the minute I saw you, and never stopped. I hope you know that. I know you'll miss me, but keep in mind I'm in a better place now. There's none of the fatigue and pain I've lived with for the last few years which is a blessing. I'll be sure to give your kitty cats that crossed the Rainbow Bridge a pat on the head when I see them, so they'll know they're appreciated. You and Alex give each other a hug for me each day. I love you, Cat."

Dawn slammed the door of her motel room behind her, feeling satisfied from the sound of the lock firming engaging. She swished the curtain closed over the window for privacy and flopped onto the unmade bed, fighting back angry tears. She felt betrayed by her step – grandfather's declaration to hold payment to his grandchildren until they were 30, even though it applied to Christine and the other step grandchildren as much as to her and Fawn.

"It doesn't matter that the money's being held in an interest baring account, either!" She complained. "Thirty is so far off, for fuck's sake! What makes him think we'll be less likely to spend it foolishly then? It's not like he's gonna be around to worry about it!"

She couldn't take much comfort in the fact that her step mother's inheritance was under a third party's control and all disbursements to Cat had to be approved by the financial planner. 'Men always think they can handle money better than women!' She snorted contemptuously.

She cried into her pillow over the outcome of the will reading. She'd been so hopeful of being granted a larger piece of the pie than her competitors! After all, she and Fawn were the only family for Blaine Marshall's blood daughter! Didn't that account for anything? 'No, the old bastard just had to be fair and give us all the same amount,' she sniffled. 'It's just not right!'

Eventually the desire to leave overcame her pity party, so she stood up and began shoving clothes and other items into her carry bag. A grim smile of triumph crossed her face as she withdrew a plastic bag from the night stand beside the bed and buried it under the wadded up clothing. The bag was filled with gold coins and stamps she'd found in the house while she helped sort through Blaine Marshall's belongings.

Those items were in unopened envelopes and boxes that Cat had trusted her to sort through in case anything requiring a payment needing to be sent back. Dawn had been thrilled to discover the items were paid for and felt no compunction about keeping them. She'd carried them out to her car when she took trash to the garage with neither her uncles nor the bikers or Cat's friends being the wiser. 'At least I'm not leaving completely empty handed!' She crowed.

She made one more circuit of the hotel room to make sure she'd not forgotten anything, then tossed her key card on the desk and stormed out to her car, letting the door slam shut behind her. She noted with satisfaction that none of the bikers were hanging around. They might belong to her father's club, but she hoped to never see that charter again!

She stalked to the back of the car and tossed her carry bag into the trunk, looking up in disdain at the roar of a Harley engine entering the lot. 'Shit! Like I really want to deal with this!' She tried to get into the driver's seat before BZ could confront her, but he beat her to the door, preventing her escape. They exchanged heated words, then BZ stepped aside to allow her access to her car.

Dawn slipped into the driver's seat and backed from her parking spot. Her foot was heavy on the accelerator. The rental backed so quickly she had to slam the brakes to keep from hitting a parked pick up truck. The brakes screamed in protest, but she managed not to hit the other vehicle. She sighed in relief and shoved the gear shift lever to drive, racing from the parking lot and onto the street without checking for incoming traffic. In a matter of minutes, Dawn was southbound on US 41 to Evansville, leaving the motel, the charter riders, her step – mother, Vincennes, and her disappointment behind.

'Brownie' heard the unexpected squeal of car tires in the motel parking lot from his hiding place. 'Wow! Someone must be pissed!' He alternated between wanting to stay put to watch the Marshall house and going to check on the noise. Curiosity won out and he crept from the tree line to the side of the motel, hiding in the shadows of the building where he could see the lot without being seen.

The rental car that belonged to his nemesis' step – daughter stopped short in front of her assigned room. From the way she stormed into the hotel room, he could tell something had upset her and deduced it had happened at the lawyer's meeting. He stroked his chin in consternation, wondering if the step child's disappointment was an indication that his nemesis might not have received a behest. 'That could mess up my plans a bit!'

He continued to watch the girl's motel room and the lot, hoping that none of the bikers would show up. He still wanted to tap the girl, his equipment had healed for him to indulge again. 'The moodier they are the better I like it!' He might even manage to get some intel from her if he was lucky.

Just as he decided to approach her door and knock, the loud roar of a Harley engine announced the arrival of one of the outlaws. 'Brownie' recognized one of the leaders – the burly, bearded rider – and frowned intensely. The rider pulled his Harley next to the girl's rental car, but didn't walk to the door. Instead, he leaned against the saddle and lit a cigarette. 'Shit! Another opportunity shot to Hell!' He cursed, flipping the bird at the biker which went unseen by its' intended recipient.

A few minutes after the biker arrived, the girl's door opened and she stepped out, carrying a single bag that she tossed into the trunk of her rental. She barely looked at the biker approaching her, opening the car door and sliding behind the steering wheel.

"What do you want?" Dawn scowled, trying to wrench the car door from the biker's grasp.

"To advise you if you were expectin' any of us to escort you to Evansville, you've got another think coming!" BZ growled.

"But you're supposed to look out for family!" Dawn protested.

"You're not the one in danger from an attacker," BZ pointed out. "Miss Cat is. I don't know what your beef is with her, and really don't care to know. What I do know is that you've hurt her – like a lot."

"Good!" Dawn huffed. "She deserves it!"

"Does she?" BZ replied. "We've seen how she's been nothin' but kind to you, and the first time somethin' doesn't go your way, you leave in a huff. It says a lot, and it ain't very nice. If Mother has a problem with us not escortin' you, we'll deal with it."

"Are you done with the sermon?" Dawn sneered.

"Yeah," BZ replied, stepping away from the open car door. "I'm tired of wastin' my breath."

"Good!" She slammed the door shut and revved the engine.

To 'Brownie's' horror, the car continued racing backwards towards 'his' parked truck. He closed his eyes, anticipating a collision, but the tires squealed and the smell of hot rubber indicated she'd stopped the car in time. He opened his eyes to see the rental race through the parking lot and out onto the adjacent street without stopping to ensure the way was clear.

'Brownie' shook his head at the girl's audacity. "Man, that girl must have a guardian angel ridin' with her!' He shrugged his shoulders and returned to his surveillance spot. The girl obviously wasn't going to come back. She was of no interest or use to him now. He'd just have to find another willing – or not so willing – receptacle for his sexual frustration later on.

Cat and her brothers entered what was now Daniel's house to find the bikers, Adrian, and Chuckie hard at work. The study had been cleared and organized so that she could go through the various items and make decisions on what to keep and give away.

"Is Dawn coming over later?" Chuckie inquired hopefully.

Cavey, who was standing behind Chuckie, nodded slightly to indicate Dawn had, indeed, left town.

"I'm sorry, darlin'," Cat replied. "She's already headin' back to California."

"Oh," Chuckie's hopeful smile dissolved upon hearing the news. "She didn't come by to say goodbye."

Cat didn't know how to respond to that without making Dawn look bad to her friend. He had a significant crush on her step – daughter, though she didn't return the affection. Her rudeness in leaving without saying a word to him or the others was another example of how well the girl had pulled the wool over her eyes. Cat stepped forward and kissed Chuckie on the cheek. "I think she had other things on her mind, Chuckie."

"I accept that – I guess," he shrugged. Determined not to allow his disappointment to take control of the day, he gestured to the many labeled boxes waiting for her. "How'd we do?"

Cat looked around the study, which had formerly been cluttered with papers, magazines, and other items. Chuckie and the others had separated everything and piled them neatly into boxes and placed them on the metal desk and computer desk. "Very nice! This would've taken me a week!"

"We're glad to be of help, Miss Cat," Chuckie assured her.

"Let me get changed and I'll start my part," she replied, heading off to her room. A few minutes later, she returned attired in jeans and a comfortable shirt to start delegating where her father's belongings would go. Meanwhile, Chuckie and Adrian got to work in her father's closets to organize his clothes. Blaine had a large collection of suits and other clothes. Some of the suits and work clothes went to Mac and Cat's brothers. She kept the flannel shirt he'd worn to the hospital for herself. That left several boxes of suits, ties, and other articles of clothing that would go to the Kentucky Mountain Mission.

With that work completed, Cat started working on the accumulated bills, which she divided into the last three years and reorganized so they could be taken to Blaine's accountant. "I didn't realize that Daddy hadn't felt up to gettin' his taxes done!" She exclaimed in dismay to her brothers.

"I didn't either, Kitten," Daniel replied apologetically. "The medical bills have been so large that he and Mom were getting refunds anyway."

"But you still have to file to get a refund!" Cat sighed. "I expect the estate is goin' to get hit with a major penalty."

"It'll come out of the refunds, Lil Sis," Jan informed her.

The group next sorted through Blaine's accumulated mail and magazines. Cat was outraged over the large number of solicitations her father had received from various 'charitable' organizations that sent 'gifts' of address labels, canvas bags, notepads and other items in hopes of a return donation.

"The amount of money they spend on this bullshit would be enough to take care of the charity they espouse!" She fumed, pointing at the boxes filled with cheap goods.

"If the number of unopened solicitations is any indication, he didn't let 'em guilt him into giving them anything," Jan observed reassuringly.

"Only because the volume was gettin' to be too much for him!" She snarled, nudging a full box of unopened solicitations addressed to their mother. "Mom's not been livin' here for years, yet they continue to send her this shit, too!"

"What does it matter now, Kitten?" Daniel asked.

"It's just the waste that irks me," she snorted. "When there is so much need out there to be met that isn't taken care of because of bullshit like this!"

They wrote 'Deceased, remove from mailing list' on all the requests for Blaine. Those that included 'gifts' were shredded, while the 'gifts' were set aside for donation to various causes. Some of the more recent magazines were going to the nursing home for the residents to enjoy.

"We'll have to remove Dad's name from the monogrammed stuff," Jan remarked.

"We can just color it out with a marker," Cat remarked. "It won't take long, and at least the stuff won't go to waste!"

"What about the pens?" Daniel inquired.

"Well, the ones that have his name engraved on 'em we can split amongst ourselves, the rest we donate," Cat decided. "The ones engraved with his name will be a nice keepsake."

'Margeaux' turned in her rental and barely managed to endure the check in process without losing her temper. The only thing that prevented it was receiving the refund for the unused portion of her contract. She gratefully boarded the shuttle to the Evansville airport, expecting to turn in her open ended ticket and get a seat on the next departing plane heading to the West. To her disgust, that idea was shot when she presented her ticket to the counter rep, who glanced from the ticket to her computer screen a few times and then frowned intently.

'I've got a bad feelin' about this!' The girl thought, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. "Is there a problem?"

"I'm afraid so," the counter agent replied warily. "This is a busy travel day,"

"So? My ticket allows me to fly back any day I choose!" She growled.

"Yes, providing there is space," the agent explained.

"What do you mean, providing there's space? That ticket's paid for!"

"It states right here on the ticket that preference will be given to those who have purchased for the date," the agent pointed out, holding the ticket out to 'Margeaux' with her finger pointing to the caveat.

"Are you saying I won't be able to get home today?" She snapped. 'Great! One more sloppy fuck in a day full of 'em!'

"It's a distinct possibility, ma'am," the agent stated apologetically. "Unless you're willing to wait for the last flight out tonight."

"When is that?"

"The flight leaves at 1145pm."

"What's the chance an earlier flight might be available?"

"Slim, but possible," the agent admitted. "You'll be allowed to go to the terminal once you pass through security, but you'll have to keep an eye on the monitors for a seat assignment for each flight."

'It beats being around 'Step Mommie Dearest!' She thought. "A'right, then. Put me on the waiting list," she sighed resignedly. Beyond the ticketing and check in area was an atrium with a few shops and restaurants, so she wouldn't go hungry. Boredom might be a different problem to solve, but she'd gladly deal with that rather than go back to her step – mother with her tail between her legs. She accepted her new ticket from the agent, picked up her carry bag, and stalked to the atrium.

She selected a seat near a column filled with usb ports. "At least I won't drain my phone's battery while I wait!" She plugged in the cable to the port and the other end into her phone. Then she sat and watched the monitor for her airline while sipping a smoothie and inwardly cursing her step - mother.

Dusk was rapidly approaching, and 'Brownie' had seen enough at the Marshall house to last him a long time. The most important thing is that he knew the bikers mainly stayed there during the day, unless Cat left the house, then one would go with her while the other outlaws remained at the house with the other two men who'd accompanied her. 'With them rotating guard duty at night, they stay pretty much at the motel, which means I need to rethink my plan!'

It was obviously going to be safer for him to go prowling for burglary victims during the day then it would be at night when the outlaws were hanging out at the motel. Most of the classes at the university met during the daylight anyway, so it made more sense to do his breaking and entering while classes were in session and the working class were away from their homes.

Usually, he didn't bother with single family homes when he went on a stealing spree. Too often the homes were protected by some kind of security system. The locks were definitely more secure than the hastily converted apartments for the college students. He gave more careful consideration to the possibility of hitting some single family homes this time, considering the higher quality jewelry and other valuables he would get. 'MP3 players, laptops, and that other electronic shit sells, but jewelry and cash is always better!' He reminded himself. Thinking of the score he made at Diane's house made him smile slyly.

He decided he would start his endeavor to pad his stash as soon as the bikers left for the Marshall residence in the morning. He might score a few big ticket items while he was out that he could pawn later on down the line.

Cat held a meeting with all the men after dinner that night to discuss plans for her eventual departure from Indiana. "I'm thinkin' about hirin' a rental truck and drivin' cross country," she announced.

"You could fly home with Adrian and Chuckie, Lil Sis, and have movers take the things across country for you," Jan offered.

"That's true," Cat observed. "However, I'd rather take the stuff myself instead of trustin' some stranger to do it."

"I hate to put my foot down, Kitten," Dan replied sternly. "You're still not up to handling a rental truck on your own for any length of time!"

Cat frowned intently. She knew her brother was right, but she wasn't happy about the idea of hiring a moving company. Too much could happen even though the company would be bonded and insured.

"We could –" Chuckie spoke up and just as abruptly closed his mouth with a snap and looked down at his lap.

"Go on, Chuckie," Cat gently encouraged him. "I'd like to hear your suggestion."

Chuckie looked up at her encouraging smile and beamed back at her. "Well, I was thinking that Adrian and I could ride back with you, and share the driving."

"But you don't have a driver's license, Chuckie!" Adrian protested.

"Shush!" Cat admonished her employee. "He's on to something here, even if he isn't legal."

"I can handle a steering wheel just fine with these!" Chuckie proclaimed, holding up his plastic hands.

"I'm sure you can, brother," BZ spoke up. "But what about protection from that asshat? If he gets wind that Kitty is drivin' cross country, what's to stop him from causin' trouble somewhere along the way?"

"There's always that possibility, though he's likely given up on me since he hasn't shown his mug around these parts," she replied. "I like Chuckie's idea. It solves a lot of problems, and maybe the charters would agree to ride shotgun along the way, startin' with all y'all," she added a bit sheepishly.

BZ and Cavey exchanged glances, then BZ grinned wolfishly. "I think that might be possible. I'd rather we stay off the interstate if it's a'right with you, though."

"It's more direct," Cat pointed out.

"I have a suggestion!" Chuckie cried enthusiastically. "How about taking Route 66 from Chicago? I've always wanted to explore it since I saw the movie 'Michael'."

Adrian shook his head in silent warning. He didn't think Cat was up to a long trip like that. 'If it were me, I'd want to get home as quickly as possible!'

To his surprise, Cat readily agreed. "Daddy always talked about us taking Route 66 on a vacation; but we never got around to it," she explained. "It would be a shame to pass up the opportunity!"

"You realize you're adding 221 miles or so to the trip?" Daniel protested.

"It'll be more, bro," Cat grinned. "Besides, I was gonna go to Naptown to visit Bill's grave and check in with the Conference office about a couple of things. If we're goin' to take Route 66, might as well do it on the way to Chitown."

Jan and Daniel shook their heads. They didn't realize it, but they shared Adrian's unspoken opinion. Even with his help, and possibly Chuckie taking a turn every now and then, they worried their sister was too emotionally and spiritually drained to handle the trip.

"I know what all y'all are thinkin' behind those frowns," she stated. "Yeah, I'm tired, but this is somethin' I want to do. For Daddy's memory."

"In fact, we'd kinda like to follow that route ourselves!" Shank pointed out.

"Actually, Route 66 works for us," BZ admitted. "It's closer to most of the charters out West than the interstates; makes it easier for them to ride shotgun. All we gotta do is work out the exchanges."

"If Lady Cat's up to it, then we're behind 'er," Cavey added. "BZ and I will work out the details with our presidents. I'll warn ya though, it's likely we'll have to get Mother's permission."

A couple of hours later, Cat's cell phone signaled a call from Chibs, who told her the charters were willing to provide the protection for her, though he wasn't happy about the use of Route 66 and sightseeing along the way. "Ye kin Teeg wants ye hoom as soon as possible, Lady Cat!"

"Yeah, he mentioned that once or twice," she admitted ruefully.

"Ah'm shure!" Chibs laughed. "Boot yer goin' pretty fur oota yer way by goin' north ta Chicago. Nothin' against SAMCHI, ya kin."

"I'm sure they'll be happy to know that," she snorted. "But if I'm goin' to do this, might as well do it right and start at the beginnin', and the beginnin' of Route 66 is in the Windy City."

"True, dat," Chibs sighed.

"It's just somethin' that feels right, Chibs," she explained. "It's one of those trips Daddy wanted to take and never got to. I want – make that need – to do this, brother."

"Aye," Chibs sighed. "Ah unnerstand, luv an' ye hev my blessin'. Jist keep us posted on yer progress."

"I'll do that, darlin'. I suppose someone's goin' to tell my beloved about this."

"Ye kin do tha' when 'e calls yer tonight," Chibs laughed.

"Gee, thanks a lot!" Cat growled. "Y'all know he's gonna have a temper tantrum!"

"Tha's un o'tha' joys o'marriage, Sis!"

"Fuck y'all!" She laughed.

"Ah loves ye, too, Sis!"

'Margueax' didn't bother calling Kendra to pick her up from LAX. It was very late at night – or early in the morning – depending on one's point of view, since she did wind up taking the very last plane from Evansville. The flight included two transfers and lay overs along the way. By the time she finally arrived in Los Angeles, she was tired, stressed, hungry, and thoroughly mad at the world in general and her step - mother in particular.

'I don't wanna drag Kendra out this late at night, and I sure as shit don't wanna dodge her questions about the trip and 'Step Mommie Dearest!' She thought. As badly as she wanted to get back to her apartment and lick her wounds, she didn't want to spend the money on a taxi. Fortunately, the city bus would take her within a block of her building, and she only had the one bag to carry.

The first thing she did after she closed her apartment door behind her was to call her producer to let him know she was back and ready for work. She left a detailed voice mail for him then unpacked and stored the gold stamps and coins she'd taken in a safe place.

She drew a bath, including bubbles, and soaked for a long time in the tub, finding herself finally able to relax from the stress of travel and the disappointment over her step-grandfather's will. She thought wistfully of the young man she'd befriended at the Evansville Airport. She'd called him while she waited to get a seat, but only managed to get his voice mail. She'd been so busy making nice to her step – mother that she didn't have a chance to meet up with him during her time in Indiana. When he didn't call her back, she left one final message that invited him to come out to visit her sometime and to feel free to call when he wanted.

She was surprised to receive a phone call from her producer an hour later. Usually he was out partying until near sunrise. She dried off her hand to use the cell phone she'd placed on a table next to the tub. "Hello!"

Her producer wasted little time on nicities. "I'll have to get back to you about working later today," he informed her. "I don't have a part for you at the moment and don't know how long it's gonna take to finish this piece."

That wasn't the news 'Margeaux' wanted to hear. "But I won't be leaving town again!" She protested.

"You didn't give me much notice to replace you," the producer pointed out. "I really had to scramble to find a someone to step in. You're just going to have to wait."

"Without pay, I suppose!" She snorted.

"No work, no pay," the producer pointed out. "I didn't plan on you being gone in the first place, be glad you still have a job to come back to!"

"That's not fair!" 'Margeaux' whined. "It's not like I was off moonlighting!"

"I'm sorry," the producer sighed. "I know you lost a family member, it just didn't happen at the most opportune time."

'As if there is such a thing!' She thought.

"Tell ya what," the producer added in a conciliatory manner. "Take today off to recover from jet lag and then come in tomorrow to work the sex cams. You can do that until a new script comes in. It's not as profitable, but it's income."

"Yeah, fine," she replied dourly. "See ya tomorrow." She turned off the phone and tossed it on the table. A worried frown crossed her face until she remembered the plastic bag full of gold coins and stamps. 'There's plenty of pawn shops and coin dealers in this town; someone's bound to give me good money for that shit!"

As anticipated, Alex wasn't a bit happy about the plan when she told him about it later that night. In fact, he was downright pissed off. "Goddammit, Cat! You said you'd consider flying the fuck home!" He exploded angrily. "Why can't you just once do what I ask you to do?"

"Like I said a few seconds ago, love, there'll be more time on a road trip for me to recover from all this," she explained patiently. "I really need that."

Alex's hand rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wanted her home and he wanted her where he knew 'Brownie' wouldn't dare to try to hurt her. There were too many things that could happen on the road. "I don't like it," he insisted.

"Really? I wouldn't have known if y'all hadn't said somethin'!" She laughed.

"Smart ass!" Alex growled.

"I know you're worried, love," she continued soberly. "But I'll have no less than six friends taggin' along – front and back – the entire trip. And it's really better than takin' the interstate system."

"How so?"

"There's populated towns along the route," she reminded him. "That means gas stations, hotels, eateries, hospitals and anything else that might be needed in an emergency. You can go miles on an interstate without such amenities – or have to travel far off course to find 'em."

'Shit! She's right about that!' He thought.

"I did drive across country all by myself with the three cats in a rental truck to get to Charming," she added.

"Yeah, but ya also didn't have some maniac stalking you, either!" He snapped.

"That's true," she reluctantly admitted. "I know you're worried, love, but that's why I've discussed it thoroughly with our friends. They've worked it out to keep me safe."

Alex sighed in resignation. He knew her mind was made up, no matter how much he growled or threatened. "Remind me to have a word with Chuckie about this when I see him!" Alex grumbled.

"It's not his fault, love. I was thinkin' of drivin' back long before he brought up the idea of takin' Route 66," she laughed. "I'll keep the phone charged so y'all can call, just keep the time zones in mind," she reminded him.

"I'm still not happy about this," Alex retorted. "Why can't Chuckie and Adrian drive the truck and you fly home?"

'Jesus! He's like a dog after a bone!' Cat sighed. "Do I have to go over it again, love? Why is it so hard to understand that I want to do something to honor Daddy? We never took the trip on a family vacation; I've got the chance, why waste it?"

'Shit!' Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose again and closed his eyes. There was no doubt about it, he was just going to have to accept the situation. "You're giving me grey hairs, woman!"

"It's about time y'all looked your age, anyway," she replied. "Thanks for comin' to terms with this, love. I know it's goin' to take a lot out on your nerves."

"Every night until you're home," he admitted. "As long as the charters are willing to help –"

"And they're not expectin' anything from SAMCRO in return," she explained. "That's what surprised me. They're just goin' to consider it a 'fun run'."

"We're not bad asses all the time, y'know," he grumbled.

"I know, but you have a rep as a bad ass to protect, hence the tough veneer protecting that soft spot," she retorted.

"Woman, you are really pilin' up the punishments," he remarked.

"Gives y'all somethin' to look forward to," she reminded him. "I'm not tryin' to be mule headed about this, love. It's important to me."

"I know," he sighed resignedly. "I understand your reason, but it doesn't mean I hafta be happy about it!"

"As long as y'all understand and aren't tryin' to go caveman on me, I'm content," she assured him.

'Margeaux' felt restless though she felt better from soaking the tension from her muscles. The idea of not having her regular income bothered her. She brought out the bag of gold coins and stamps, hefting it in her hand. There was no doubt that the items were made of gold instead of gold plate just from their weight. 'I've got the day off, might as well get this done now instead of waiting.'

She powered up her laptop and launched her internet browser, looking for places that would buy gold and found a large number of buyers. There were pawn shops and jewelry shops that bought gold, well over 75 listings in the area. She ignored those that only dealt with internet and mail transactions because they would take too much time. A banner advertisement popped up as she was waiting for her printer to spit out the pages she'd selected. She was moving the mouse to click on the little corner 'x' that would send it back to the world wide web but stopped when she realized that the banner was telling her of a gold buying show going on at the coliseum that day. The ad boasted all manner of buyers from all over the country would be present, and on the spot offers would be made.

'It'll be packed, but the number of potential buyers in one place is too tempting to pass up! And if I don't like an offer there'll be someone else to make a better one!' Dawn drummed her fingers on the desk for a few moments until the printer was done with its' work. She snatched the papers up, shut down her computer, and stuffed them in her pocket before grabbing her purse and stuffing the gold pieces inside. She picked up her car keys and headed out the door with a determined expression on her face. Whether it was at the show or one of the individual local dealers, she was getting rid of the gold today!

The first thing Cat did upon waking was check her voice and email for messages. There had been no call or message from her step – daughter, not that she really expected either to happen, but a part of her still hoped for the courtesy. She tried calling Dawn's cell, but got voicemail. "Hey, darlin'. It's Cat. Just wanted to make sure you got back OK. I'm sorry about your disappointment, and that I might've said some things yesterday out of stress. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry it happened. So if you get a chance, please return my call, or just text that you're all right."

She and the men had made a large dent in sorting through her father's belongings. She couldn't help grinning to herself from time to time as she worked, thinking of the number of times Miriam had said she hoped she'd go before her father, so she wouldn't have to deal with all the stuff. Her brothers caught her grinning once and had to know what she found amusing. She shared their mother's statement with them, and they laughed.

"Well, she didn't go first, but Mom isn't having to deal with this!" Dan chuckled.

"I think you guys should go see her today, just to make sure she's doing all right," Cat suggested.

"We were talking about that this morning, Lil Sis," Jan replied. "The funeral might've confused her; it might help her to see familiar faces in her own usual surroundings."

"Do you want to go with us? It might do you some good to get out of the house for something not related to the estate," Daniel offered.

"I was going to invite myself if you didn't!" She grinned. "Why don't we go after her lunch time?"

The brothers nodded in agreement before they began the job of packing Blaine's clothes for the Conference related charity. They separated the suits from his casual clothes. There were also a lot of dress and casual shoes in his closet. Cat still had the bag of clothing that had accompanied her father from Good Samaritan to the Indianapolis hospital that she intended to keep.

"I think Mac like be able to use a couple of Daddy's suits," Cat observed, laying out a suit set of brown, black and blue for her father's friend. "Do you think they have the same shoe size?"

"That's a little creepy, Sis," Daniel protested.

"Why?" Cat frowned. "They still have a lot of use to them."

"I kinda have to agree with Daniel, Lil Sis," Jan stated. "It's one thing to walk around in a dead guy's clothing, but something doesn't feel right about Mac walking around in Dad's shoes!"

"It was just a thought!" She retorted, though she understood her brothers' reaction. The idea gave her a case of the willies as well. "Best to give 'em all to the charity and be done with it. I'd rather they get used than get tossed."

"Do you mind if we keep a couple of his flannel shirts?" Jan asked, holding up a purple one that had struck his fancy.

"Keep what y'all want. I want to look through this old thing!" She held up a pale tan leather case that she hadn't seen for years. It had once held her father's cuff links and tie clasps. She sat on the edge of the bed and opened the case, gasping at the treasure trove of memories inside.

The brothers sat down on either side of her as she touched each item. "I wish we'd found this a few days ago!" She lamented, running her fingers over a set of praying hands cuff links. There were old IU Classic basketball stubs, yellow trading stamps, postcards, a few un-cancelled stamps of various denominations, some coins, tie clasps, lapel pins, and other odds and ends.

"Wow! Some of that stuff is as old as I am!" Jan exclaimed.

"Maybe even older," Cat sniffed. "I thought he got rid of this after he married Miriam!"

"Well, he obviously didn't, and it's important to you, Cat. It should go home with you," Daniel observed.

"Are y'all sure?"

"We're sure," Jan replied, squeezing her hand firmly. "The shirts and other things you're letting us keep are more than enough."

"Don't forget, just because this is my house now doesn't mean it's not yours, too," Daniel added.

A discreet cough interrupted their bonding. Chuckie stood in the door to Blaine's bedroom, holding two hats in his hands.

"Where'd you find those, Chuckie?" Cat inquired mistily.

"In the living room coat closet," he admitted. "I kept 'em aside for myself, but didn't feel right about keeping them without asking you first."

"I've never seen you wear a hat!" Cat smiled. "But if your heart is set on 'em, consider them yours."

Chuckie's face lit up with a large smile of delight. "Really?"

"I'm sure you'll give them a good home, and while you're at it, if you see any ties or shirts you like, help yourself," Cat grinned. 'It's not a lot, but maybe it'll help ease the sting of Dawn breakin' his heart.'

"Brownie' left his room as soon as the outlaws cleared out of the motel lot to scour the residential area around campus for residences that would be good targets for him to break into and rob. He cruised along the streets as if he were looking for a specific address and when he found a block that looked promising, he parked several streets away and hiked back.

One such block was located half a mile from the campus and consisted of large, older homes that had been converted into sleeping rooms and efficiency apartments. He knew from past experience that these buildings were the easiest to get into; the front entry was never locked by the denizens. There were also large trees and bushes to hide his endeavors from any nosy neighbors. The main entrance opened easily and he stood in the entry way to listen for signs of life in any of the apartments. Silence met his ears. No music or television sounds indicating someone might be home. He was off to a good start.

He decided to try upstairs first, creeping cautiously and silently up the stairs. The landing led to four rooms and a shared bathroom. He quietly tried each door, being careful not to rattle the doorknob, only to find they were all locked. He smirked and pulled out a plastic card he kept for such events and slid it upwards between one of the doors and the casing. The lock gave with ease and he slipped inside the quiet room.

It was just a sleeping room, with no kitchen facilities, but it was a treasure trove to anyone who knew where to look, and 'Brownie' certainly knew. He rummaged through the bureau drawers and closet, coming up with cash and small electronics. He found a discarded bag from the campus bookstore and tossed his booty in it, then repeated the same process in the other upstairs rooms.

He crept silently down the stairs and stopped in front of one of the two doors opening off the entry. He listened but heard no sounds from the first door, but the lock was better than those upstairs. The door had a deadlock bolt that refused to give to his plastic card. He tried the other door, only to meet with the same failure. 'Hmm, must've installed 'em themselves; landlord would've done all six rooms the same way to save money,' he observed darkly. He considered kicking the door in but decided not to bother. Kicking in the offending doors might ease some of his frustration; it might also attract undue attention. 'I got a good enough haul to start with! It'll give the residents somethin' to cry about!'

He checked to make sure the street was still deserted and left the house to try another that looked just as promising. He hit several converted buildings on the same block and got everything of value he could carry to the truck. His first foray had been successful. Now he wanted to go out and look for single family homes to target to get enough valuables to be able to keep him comfortable for the road trip to come and beyond.

Miriam wasn't doing well when her children came to see her. The nurses reported she was more confused than normal, and hadn't even wanted to eat. She had to be persuaded to drink a protein shake, which she usually looked forward to enjoying.

"It's probably best if you don't visit her," one of the nurses added. "She's been like this since yesterday, and your presence, especially Jan's and Cat's since she doesn't see them often, will just add to her confusion."

"But I visit whenever I can!" Daniel protested. "Can't I make a short visit?"

"I guess that can't hurt," the nurse agreed, recalling that Daniel came in every two to three weeks to see his mother.

"We'll wait outside," Cat informed him before he started towards Miriam's room. Jan and Cat went outside to the shaded front entry. There were a number of chairs placed there where they could relax and enjoy the fresh air.

"I kinda envy you taking Route 66 home," Jan remarked. "If I were younger and in better shape, I'd ride along with you, just to enjoy the scenery."

"I'm just surprised Miriam and Daddy never made the trip," Cat replied. "They certainly went a lot of different places during their marriage."

Jan shrugged. "Mom's not been much for wide, open spaces. She likes having a lot of people around her. That's why they took cruises and bus tours."

"And my birth mother's reaction to it might've been enough to put him off mentioning it to anyone else," Cat observed dryly. "Like the old sayin' goes, bite me once, shame on you. He never wanted to get bit that second time."

"Slightly outta context, Lil Sis, but I get what you're saying," Jan grinned.

Daniel's expression spoke volumes as he exited the building and walked up to them. He sat down in a chair and sighed tiredly. "Mom's not good at all," he announced. "Being out so long yesterday and the night before has her completely confused. She didn't even know who I was until I told her. She said 'I have a son named Danny'. She perked up a bit when I told her that was me."

Cat shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Me-owtch! How'd you explain Daddy's absence?"

"I just kept telling her he was where he needed to be and she'd be satisfied for a few seconds. It's probably best that you don't see her for the rest of your time here, Cat. Her constant askin' about Dad is bound to upset you."

"She's still Mom, somewhere inside," Cat protested. "I can't just take off without sayin' goodbye to her!"

"Then wait until the day before you leave, Lil Sis," Jan advised wisely. "Let's give her some more time to get re-used to her surroundings."

"And if we bring her a treat, she'll be bound to be more focused on that then askin' about Daddy!" Cat grinned.

"Yeow!" Dan laughed. "That's kinda mean, in a nice way, but it's true. Her sweet tooth would definitely take charge!"

"And if she does ask about Blaine, we just keep telling her that he's where he needs to be and she's where she needs to be," Jan observed. "It's best for everyone."

"Amen to that!" Cat sighed. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket, checked it, grimaced, and put it back in her pocket. "Damn!"

"Expecting an important call?" Daniel inquired.

"I was hopin' for word from Dawn," she admitted.

Daniel and Jan exchanged knowing looks. They both commended their sister for caring about her step child's welfare, but they wondered why she bothered after the girl showed her ass the previous day.

"I know what y'all are thinkin'," Cat retorted. "I can't just shut down communication with her, despite her behavior. She's Alex's blood; things are tough enough when families blend, and I don't want to add to it by giving Dawn or her sister the cold shoulder."

"I doubt Alex would hold it against you, little girl," Daniel pointed out. "All parents – step or otherwise – reach a point where they have to cut the parental strings and let the kid fly on their own."

"It's not that easy," Cat protested.

"Dad did it to you," Daniel insisted. "You two came out of it closer than ever."

"That's different from the relationship between the girls and I. Daddy was there before the rift. If I shut the girls out, they may never warm up to me again!"

The brothers shrugged in sympathy. There was nothing they could say to make their sister realize that she was running a treadmill to nowhere by caring for people who cared nothing for her. Jan put an understanding arm around her shoulders and stated, "Just remember, you have two big brothers to talk to when the goin' gets tough and the tough can't get goin'."

'Brownie' upended one of the pillow cases he'd pilfered during his burglary spree and allowed the stolen items to fall onto his bed. There were the usual small electronic items he could easily pawn, and a wad of cash he'd found in a drawer of one of the units, along with MP3 players, portable DVD players, and jewlery.

'Not bad for one morning,' he mused. He examined the items more thoroughly than he had while he'd pilfered them. He had more time now to see if the owners had etched any identifying marks in the equipment. Fortunately, no one had been that far sighted. He wouldn't have to scrape the marks off and have to take a loss when he pawned them later.

He consolidated his treasure into a few pillow cases, which would hold up longer than the plastic bags, which he wadded together and set aside to throw away at another location. Too much suspicion might arise from the cleaning staff if he had a large amount of plastic bags from different stores in the motel room trash can. He wasn't about to trip himself up this far into the game.

He decided to stretch out on the bed and relax; his nerves had been stretched tight during his breaking and entering, there was always the possibility of being seen and reported in the daytime. There were also hazards to committing robberies at night; a resident could be an early go to bed type. 'It would be just my luck to find someone asleep and have 'em start caterwaulin'!' He mused. 'Nah, best to stick with the plan and roust during the day.'

A grim smile crossed his face as he thought about the only residence he wouldn't go near. As much as it appealed to him to take valuables from his son – who had betrayed him many times over in the last few years – he knew better than to try. 'Mouse' was likely to have security cameras set up, and if anything did come up missing, 'Brownie' would be the first person he'd suspect and start looking for. 'That would really fuck everything up!' The Marshall home was also off limits to his thieving ways, there were too many people around for him to chance it, no matter how much personal satisfaction it might give him.

'So tomorrow I hit another apartment building near campus. Maybe I'll hit the campus Christian center as well. Those assholes owe me, too! Someone's always leavin' somethin' of value there!' He interlaced his fingers behind his head, feeling satisfied over the justice he was meting out to those he perceived as having wronged him, and of that which would come.

'Margeaux' exited the Staples Center with her purse stuffed with cash from selling the purloined gold stamps and coins. The stamps had provided the biggest reward, as the gold covering was worth more than the stamps themselves at current gold prices. Not that the coins hadn't produced a fair wad of cash for her also. She now had a considerable sum that she could rely on should the need arise. This was something she didn't intend to tell anyone about, including Kendra.

Her phone buzzed as she walked to her car, but she ignored it, not wanting to have her attention diverted from her surroundings. She wouldn't be surprised to find someone lurking around hoping to rob an unsuspecting patron of the event of their winnings. 'Margeaux' didn't intend to be one of those victims. Once she was safely locked in her car, she withdrew her cellphone to determine who'd called and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What does that bitch want now?" She groaned while accessing her voice mail, fearing that her theft had been found out and what her step – mother might do about it.

She rolled her eyes to the heavens while listening to Cat's plea to let her know she'd gotten home safe. "For shit's sake! I'm over 21 and don't have to report to you – or anyone else!" She tossed the cell phone on the seat beside her, started her car, and raced from the parking lot.

'Margeaux' didn't believe her step – mother's sincerity in being concerned about her. 'She just wants to make sure I don't cause any trouble for her with Daddy! Just wait, 'Step – Mommie Dearest'! You'll find out how much trouble you can get in with Daddy for messin' with me! Blood is thicker than anything!' Since she had the rest of the day free, she decided to drive to Stockton to plant a few seeds of doubt in her father's mind.

"What's all that you're packing, Miss Cat?" Chuckie inquired, entering the study where she was working. A box filled with newspaper wrapped items was open on the cleared metal desk in front of her. "I thought we were finished with the packing!"

"You did," she assured him. "These are models of Mopar cars I purchased for Daddy through the years. It occurred to me that Alex might enjoy 'em. Course, he'll only be able to see pics of 'em until he's out, but he'll have somethin' to look forward to holdin' and seein'."

"As if he won't have enough to do just holding and seeing you, Miss Cat!" Chuckie assured her. "He might not be too worried about those models for a while!"

"One never knows what all y'all men will do at a given time!" She quipped. There was a hint of her usual dry humor in her tone of voice which was quickly squashed by the weight of her loss.

"I didn't know Tig was a car buff," Chuckie added, hoping to return some of that lightheartedness to her.

"He's not," Cat admitted, placing one of the newspaper wrapped models in the box. "I'm trying to convert him. If he doesn't like 'em, I'll keep 'em for myself."

"Your dad really liked Mopar," Chuckie observed.

"It was almost a second religion, and one that I come by honestly. That and my love for the Cubbies," she replied, staring wistfully off into space. "I guess I tried to make up for the son he didn't get by sharin' his interests."

"It makes you more interesting for knowing so much about such things," Chuckie pointed out. He gingerly picked up a small model and examined it carefully. It looked like a jet and he said as much.

"That's the Chrysler Turbine that debuted at the 1964 World's Fair," Cat explained. "Daddy signed up to test drive one for a week, but was never chosen. So one year, I decided he should have one, and gave him that model for Christmas."

"I see a card attached to it. May I?"

Cat nodded and Chuckie held the card closer to his face so he could read it. "'Since Chrysler never saw fit to give you one, here's a Chrysler Turbine all your own; unfortunately, it's a little bit of a tight squeeze to get into. Love from Cat'." He lowered the card and smiled. "Did he get the joke?"

"Definitely, and he appreciated the gesture," Cat grinned. "Usually a parent buys a car for the kid, not vice versa."

"Tig's a fool if he doesn't appreciate these," Chuckie pronounced, carefully handing the model to her so she could pack it with the others.

"Just don't say that to him!" She cautioned.

"I accept that!" He grinned. "Not that I'd ever say it when he's within earshot!"

"That's good. I kinda like havin' y'all around," she smiled. "You're good people, Chuckie."

He could only grin appreciatively at the compliment.

"24601! Get over here!"

Tig looked up in consternation at the sound of the guard's voice calling out his id#. He wasn't expecting any visitors until Sunday, and he'd been behaving pretty well - for him. His thoughts immediately turned to the outside world and he wondered if something had happened to his wife.

"The only way you're gonna find out is to get get it over with," Clay rumbled through a cloud of cigar smoke.

Tig shrugged and strolled over to the guard, acting as if he didn't have a care in the world. Inside, however, his stomach was turning somersaults. "You wanted to see me?" He growled, stopping a few feet from the guard.

"Not me, but somebody in the waiting room seems to want to," the guard snorted.

'I've got a bad feelin' about this!' Tig thought, following the guard into the building. Another guard fell into step behind Tig, making him more apprehensive. His mind raced through the many possibilities a visitor presented. 'It's not club business, they would've gotten Clay! No reason for the lawyer to want to see me alone, so it's gotta be about Cat or one of my girls!'

He strained to see past the lead guard into the visitor's room to find out who was waiting for him. Whoever it was had chosen a seat at an angle from the door, so he couldn't immediately discern the visitor's identity. A deep frown furrowed his brow while his stomach felt like a lead ball had taken up permanent residence.

The lead guard stepped into the visiting area, taking that 'at east' position next to the door. "Are ya waitin' for an engraved invitation?" The other guard taunted.

'I'm getting really tired of hearing that bullshit line!' Tig thought. He shook his head and stepped cautiously over the threshold, eyes sweeping the room for the visitor. He felt like collapsing when he spotted his daughter sitting off at a corner table instead of some stranger with bad news.

'Margeaux' stood up as he raced over to her and enfolded her in a bear hug. "I thought you were still in Indiana!" He murmured, his voice reflecting his surprise at her presence.

'Margeaux' leaned against her father for a moment, surprised that he was quivering. She frowned in annoyance that her father mentioned Indiana, but took that as a sign that her step – mother hadn't ratted her out about the will reading or discovered her thievery. She was surprised at how happy her father was to see her.

Tig released her to sit down at the table before his legs gave out. "When did you get back?"

'He's not the least concerned about that bitch!' 'Margeaux' observed fleefully, settling into the chair across from her father. "A couple of days ago," she shrugged. "There wasn't any reason for me to stay around after the funeral."

"That's not the impression I got!" Tig frowned. "I thought there was a lot of shit to be done."

"Probably, but to be honest, Daddy, it wasn't any of my business."

The bitter note in his daughter's voice wasn't lost on him. He suspected something hadn't gone right between his wife and his daughter. 'They mix about as well as gasoline and fire! I shouldn't be surprised that Cat didn't mention Dawnie's abrupt departure, but it does!' He frowned intently at his daughter and growled, "A'right, what the hell happened between you two?"

'Margeaux' tried not to squirm under her father's gaze. This visit wasn't working out like she'd planned. She realized that Cat hadn't said anything about the big blow up that led to her early departure. 'Not that I'm having second thoughts about 'Step Mommie Dearest', but if I say anything negative about her now, Daddy's just goin' to side with her, just like he did about the insurance money!'

Tig folded his arms over his chest and sat back in the chair, still frowning at his child. As much as he loved her, he hadn't forgotten about the theft she'd committed against his wife. 'Whatever story she tells, it's not gonna hold much water, especially if she paints Cat in a bad light!'

'Margeaux's' mind raced to conjure a plausible reason for her for returning earlier than expected. She knew she was walking on thin ice with her father in the first place. 'If I whine about her, it's just gonna piss him off." She sighed and cast her eyes to the table. "Nothing happened between me and Cat, Daddy. Honest!" She lifted her eyes to him in pleading entreaty.

"Then why didn't ya stay around to help pack up Blaine's stuff?"

"I – I felt out of place," she stammered brokenly.

"Didn't your uncles make you feel welcome?" Tig inquired a little more gently. He knew all about feeling like an outsider in a room full of people. Before the club, he'd experienced that same feeling. He couldn't believe his brothers in law wouldn't have made his daughter feel welcome, unless they knew about the theft. 'Nah, Cat wouldn't tell them a damn thing about it!'

"Oh, sure. But they're big guys," she pointed out. "They kinda overwhelmed me."

"Shit, Bobby's a big man, and you're not scared of him!" Tig retorted.

"I've known Uncle Bobby longer," she replied. "Don't get me wrong, they're pretty gentle for big guys, but I just didn't feel like I belonged. Cat didn't need me around when she had all the bikers, some weird dude named Chuckie and another kid helping out. I felt like the fifth wheel."

Tig understood Dawn's feelings, but he sensed something wasn't right with her story. He couldn't quite put a finger on what was bothering him. He had a feeling that his daughter's rapid return home had more to do with the reading of Blaine's will than with her discomfort around her step – uncles and the charter. Unwilling to make an issue of it, he resolutely pushed his thoughts aside for the time being. "I appreciate that you went out to support Cat," he stated. "I'm proud of ya, baby."

'Margeaux' beamed at her father, hiding the small twinge of guilt his words invoked. When the visit came to an end and she was leaving the visiting area, she realized that she'd never be able to implicate her step – mother in any shenanigans concerning her and Fawn's inheritance. "He'd just laugh it off as karma paying me back for stealing from that bitch in the first place!" She grumbled. "Why do things always work out for her?"

Daniel and Jan surprised Cat by obtaining and paying the deposit for the rental truck, which they brought to the house that evening. "It's the least we felt we could do to help you, Lil Sis," Jan explained.

"Like Hell! All y'all been helpin' a lot these last few days!" She sputtered, though she was touched by their gesture.

"Just consider this our donation to the cause," Daniel grinned. "After this weekend, we can relax, but you'll have to deal with unloadin' the thing when you get home."

"That's true," she remarked dryly.

"Will you be here through the weekend?" Jan inquired. "We were thinking of attending Blaine's church for services."

Cat shook her head. "I don't think so. Organized religion has left a bad taste in my mouth, theoretically speaking."

"It's not the minister's fault that the Conference messed up with Dad!" Daniel protested.

"I know," she agreed. "He did a wonderful job with the service. I'm just not up to facin' up to a lot of well-meant condolences. Besides, since we're takin' Route 66 from Chicagy, I'd rather deal with the truck on a Sunday than Monday rush hour."

"She's got a point there," Daniel nodded. He had experience with piloting a 45 foot semi through Chicago's rush hour. It wasn't easy for him, and he had years of practice. He could only imagine how hair raising it would be for a novice like his sister.

"Same thing for bikers, I suppose," Jan sighed. "I understand where you're coming from, Lil Sis. Just don't be mad at me for hoping you'll change your mind."

"I won't hold it against you, but don't hold your breath hopin' I'll change my mind about attendin' church," she remarked. "You'll turn blue."

Chuckie and Adrian had been sitting quietly listening as the siblings discussed her imminent departure. Adrian was bothered by his employer's attitude towards religion; it had always been a part of her for as long as he'd known her. He wasn't certain he liked the idea of her turning away from it.

"Don't get me wrong, all y'all," she added, including her two employees in her gaze. "I still believe in a Holy Higher Power, but just can't get too thrilled about religion right now. It's not just the United Methodist Conference; it's organized religion as a whole that has annoyed me. Sometimes it's good to take a few steps away for a while and gain some fresh perspective."

"As long as you're not going Atheist on us!" Jan exclaimed.

"'Amiable Agnostic' seems more fitting," she grinned. "I believe in God the Father and Jesus, but not so much in religion."

"I accept that!" Chuckie remarked.

'I'm not sure I do,' Adrian thought, keeping his expression neutral so his boss wouldn't notice his personal discomfort. 'And I'm going to do something about it that might help her change her mind!' He just wasn't sure what that action was at the moment, but he knew an idea would come to him.

'Brownie' had developed the habit of driving by the street leading to the Marshall residence once a day to check the drive for anything that might hint that Cat was planning to leave. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn't be happy with taking just a few things from her father's home as mementos, nor would she be willing to have them shipped. That night, as he returned from picking up some items at the grocery, he glanced up the lane and noticed a rental truck was parked in the drive.

'Guess my days here are comin' to an end!' He mused. He wasn't sure if the truck was already loaded or not; the bikes were still parked at the Marshall residence, but there was no sign of activity around the truck. He called the agency that provided the truck, pretending to be a family member who needed information on the truck rented for his sister.

The rep charged with answering the phone didn't think twice about the caller's request. Lots of people called to get such information; moves tended to make people forget to share information with each other. He gladly provided the information 'Brownie' requested, explaining the rental was one way to Charming, CA and was scheduled to be dropped off at the franchise in Stockton in a week.

'Sounds like fat ass is plannin' to make a vacation trip out of it!' He grinned, drumming his fingers on the desk. 'They're not loadin' today. That leaves me tonight to break into the campus Christian Center! I can stake out the old man's place tomorrow and follow her when she leaves.'

He wasn't worried about performing the standard check out at the motel. He was paying cash by the day, and would just leave the door key on the desk when he left. If she didn't leave the next day like he anticipated, he'd rob a few more residences and sleep in the truck.

Adrian tried not to worry about his employer's occasional unwillingness to talk. He was surprised she was able to function at all following her father's death. 'She's taking the anti-depressant her doctor prescribed, and she does interact with us from time to time. Guess I'm just not used to her being so quiet and sad!

The truck they were riding in carrying several large wooden bookcases, including a wood and glass case lovingly protected with padded blankets. "I've loved this unit my entire life. It was always a part of Daddy's study," she stated when the 'Illinois Boys' helped load it onto the truck.

'The only reason she allowed them to handle it was because it was too heavy for her to lift on her own!' Adrian grinned. 'She kept her eye on 'em until it was safely loaded!'

He glanced at Chuckie, who sat between them, a map of their route and the various tourist attractions along it lay open on his lap. He had two highlighters in his shirt pocket, one color for the places they'd already seen, and another to mark the ones they had yet to visit. A look of pure childish delight lit his face as he anticipated their next stop.

The first yellow mark on the map indicated their first stop of their journey along the famed Route 66 - Lou Mitchell's Restaurant at 565 W. Jackson Blvd – which was open for an early breakfast and lunch. Adrian wasn't very impressed with it. Though it was busy, it wasn't as cozy and inviting as 'Charming Pawse' and he said as much to her when they left the building.

Cat grinned at his displeasure. "Not all coffeehouses are set up to be comfortable for hangin' around, darlin'. Restaurant style seating means more traffic and money. That's what makes our place back home so popular – besides being the only coffeehouse in town –the furniture is comfortable and people feel good about staying around for a while."

"I accept that!" Chuckie replied. "It also isn't bad for the bottom line, since people get refills and buy other products. The cats are a nice incentive for people to visit, too."

"That was the whole idea, Chuckie," she stated, mentally preparing herself for the obligatory group picture in front of the coffeehouse. She'd offered to let Chuckie use one of her father's film cameras that she was bringing back with her; he had purchased a single-use camera for the purpose of recording their trip.

"I just feel more comfortable with this, Miss Cat," he explained. "I'd feel awful if I broke one of your Dad's cameras."

It turned out that maneuvering the truck through Chicago on the weekend was easier than it would have been on a weekday, but traffic was still heavy. She took the driving duties for that portion of the trip for insurance purposes and because Chuckie and Adrian were too intimidated by the idea. Despite the comparisons between coffeehouses, they did enjoy the visit, which was more pleasurable than the prior evening in Indianapolis. 'Actually, the stops to her first husband's and birth mother's graves went well,' Adrian observed. 'It was the unmitigated disaster at the convention center that upset the boss.'

Cat had learned from the internet that the Indiana United Methodist Conference was holding its' annual meeting in Indianapolis that week. The annual memorial service for clergy and spouses that had passed away during the preceding year was being held the night they left Vincennes. Cat attended in order to honor her father and represent the family; she had emailed the remembrance Blaine had asked her to write up for the journal and his picture to be shown during the service as well as to accompany the written piece.

Adrian went with her while Chuckie opted to remain with the truck and the 'Illinois Boys'. One look at her face on her return warned the men that things had gone very much awry at the service.

"They had his name all wrong on the overhead screen and really edited down the remembrance Miss Cat wrote," Adrian explained. Cat was so angry she couldn't speak for herself. He had to physically haul her away from the venue to keep her from causing a fracas with the conference hierarchy and possibly get arrested for disturbing the peace or worse.

"I don't accept that!" Chuckie sputtered indignantly. "That man spent a lot of time working for them, you'd think they could at least get his name right!"

Adrian held up a clear crystal pitcher that had a ribbon tied around the handle. The ribbon held a card with Blaine's misspelled name on it for all to see. "That's when we saw the misspelling on the overhead, right under his picture! It didn't help that some nervous laughter met that error."

The bikers winced in sympathy. They could understand why some might've uttered a nervous giggle. Fortunately, the men were able to keep from grinning at the error and upsetting their friend.

"No wonder Kitty's upset!" Cavey exclaimed. "That's like slappin' 'er in the face while she's down!"

"No shit, Sherlock!" Cat growled, slamming a fist into the side of the truck hard enough to startle the bikers. "I'm sorry," she added contritely, gazing apologetically at Cavey. "It's not fair to take out my anger at those idiots on you."

"You have to let it out somehow, lady," Mudball announced. "Better to us than people who don't give a damn."

"Well, I told my brothers this before we left Vincennes, and I'm statin' it again for the record: I am done with organized religion! There's too much politics and not enough Christ – like behavior for me to tolerate any longer. If I want to spend time with God, I'll do it on the bike in His Creation!"

There was nothing that any of the men around her could say about her declaration. They understood her pain and anger and knew that sometimes it was good to step away for a bit. They started their vehicles and headed away from the convention center, not realizing they were being followed.

The small convoy left Indianapolis but instead of taking I65N to Chicago, Cat directed Adrian to take I74E into Illinois, where they would follow I55N into Chicago. "It's time the guys got to spend a little time in their own territory," she explained.

Adrian couldn't shake the previous evening's disaster from his mind. He felt sorry for his employer, who was leaned her head against the window on the right side of the cab. He was sure the error hadn't been intentional, but to Cat, it was just another show of disrespect to her father from his long time employer.

'I had a bad feeling about this when she came out of the meeting with the Bishop and she looked like she was trying not to say something she shouldn't. All she'd say was that the program wasn't what she'd expected and stormed into the auditorium, accepted a copy of the program, and found a seat in the designated area. Neither of us looked at the program, so the error really hit her hard.'

He appreciated the timely intervention of a minister at the end of the service, who prevented Cat from storming the stage and confronting the Conference staff. Adrian recognized Rev. Diehl from the funeral and meal after. The first thing the minister did was to enfold the distressed woman in a firm embrace and apologize for the situation. It was also his suggestion that Adrian retrieve the crystal pitcher while he talked to Cat, who was bristling with displeasure.

"If I let her go after it, she's going to get herself in a lot of trouble she doesn't need," he explained, gazing intently at the young artist.

"I get what you mean, sir," Adrian assured him, scurrying off to the stage. It wasn't difficult to obtain the item from the service coordinators. He identified himself as a friend of Cat Marshall's and that she was too overcome to obtain the pitcher herself.

"Please give her our condolences," one of the coordinators cooed.

"I'll do that," Adrian replied. 'When Hell freezes over!' He had a feeling if he conveyed the well – meant sympathy, his employer would erupt like a simmering volcano. To his relief, Cat looked much calmer when he returned. Whatever the minister had said to her had obviously calmed her.

"Just remember I'm always here for you, Cat," the minister stated as he rose from the chair he'd been sitting in. "I'm really sorry for all the additional pain you've had to endure because of things like this."

Cat nodded without looking up at the minister, who patted her on the shoulder and walked away. Cat picked up their programs and walked slowly from the auditorium, stopping every so often to pick up a discarded program. "Might as well get copies for the family," she murmured.

They stopped that night at a motor inn outside the Chicago metro area and got checked into the rooms. Everyone in the convoy was tired and ready for a good night's sleep. The truck was parked in a well-lighted area, surrounded on both sides by the outlaws' bikes.

Cat appeared less angry the next morning when they departed for their first stop. Chuckie was nearly hopping with excited anticipation that Adrian feared might aggravate her. Instead, she grinned indulgently at Chuckie, though she remained withdrawn for much of their time in Chicago.

Adrian glanced over at his employer, then back to the road and shook his head. 'She's hurt and upset about her father. I wish there was something I could do or say that will ease her pain.' He was more determined than ever to change her mind over leaving organized religion in the dust, and knew exactly what he needed to do before they returned to Charming to make that happen. He would make the arrangements when they stopped for the night.

'Brownie' watched the memorial service from the highest possible riser in the convention center, grinning with malicious satisfaction when Rev. Marshall's picture appeared on the large screen captioned with the name 'Blame Marshall'. He laughed out loud at the sight, ignoring the shocked looks of his neighbors who'd been twittering nervously about the error. "That's rich!" He gasped, wiping tears of laughter out of his eyes with one hand.

His comment caused the people sitting closest to him to slide away from his proximity as if he'd just let a 'silent but deadly' fart escape. He didn't give a damn about their reaction; he was enjoying himself too much.

He glanced at the program in his hand, which included memorial write ups of the deceased from a designated family member. He could tell from the style that Cat had written the one for her father which was much the same as what she'd given at the funeral. Someone had heavily edited her submission, as the flow of the article was jerky in presentation. Not like the conversational flow at the other service.

Once he realized that his nemesis' departure from Vincennes was imminent, he went to the university library to map out the various routes that would lead to Charming, as well as to learn more about the town itself. He was still torn between the idea of getting there ahead of her and following behind to play mind games. The enjoyment he would get out of the mind games eventually won out over staking out the new town.

He had brazenly visited the campus ministry center earlier that day and struck up a conversation with the director who had banned him many years ago. He'd pretended to be a parent looking into the school on his son's behalf. The director had been cordial with him, pointing out that though the United Methodist Conference was the main source for their funding, the center respected and welcomed members of all religions, offering a place to study for classes, hang out, and meet other like – minded young adults in the various programs the center offered.

'Brownie' barely managed to hide his contempt for the director during the interview, but he kept his ultimate goal in mind; staking out the building and noting where anything of value might be stored to pick up on his return visit after the center closed. He made certain to look for any kind of security cameras or devices that might hinder him. Much to his surprise, the center continued to follow the same nominal security measures as when he'd attended classes there. The doors would be locked at closing and the lights turned off. The locks were standard non – deadbolt kind that he could easily get past, just as he had with the off campus apartments

"I notice you're affiliated with that conference," he remarked, pointing to a flyer about the annual meeting in Indianapolis going on that week that lay on the director's desk.

"Yes, but due to the death of a former student's father, I came back for the funeral and have been on hand in case that student needed me," the director explained. "Friday night is the memorial service, and I'll be attending it. I assume she'll be there."

That gave 'Brownie' confirmation of Cat and her friends' departure date. 'She'll likely leave from Indy with the truck. She's too cheap to drive to Indy in a car, come back and pick up the truck!' He sniffed disdainfully, recalling her habits. After his visit with the center director, he stopped at the university library to map out and print the various routes that existed between Indy and Charming, CA. He retrieved the pages from the library printer and returned to the computer to perform more research to learn what time and when the service in Indianapolis would take place.

He decided to go on up to Indianapolis right away instead of following her there. He could get parked and seated long before she showed up, likely with her gang in tow. After the service, he would find out where they were staying the night, then return to Vincennes to pull off the ministry center break in.

He'd gotten a good look at where Cat was seated when 'Blame Marshall's' picture appeared on the screen. She was only accompanied by one of the young 'civilians'. He was far enough away to make a discreet exit and get to his truck before she left the auditorium. He retrieved his truck from the parking garage and idled on the street outside the convention center, looking no different from the other vehicles waiting to pick someone up. He watched as Cat and the young man trudged towards a parking garage and waited for the rental truck to exit.

It took a few minutes' waiting, but finally a roar of Harley engines issued from the garage exit, sounding like a major thunderstorm rolling through. Three bikes appeared first, running in a triangle formation. The rental truck followed, with another three bikes in a reverse triangle formation behind it. 'Hail, hail, the gang's all here!' he snorted, putting his truck in gear and following the small convoy at a discreet distance.

'Where the fuck are they going?' He grumbled when the group passed the I70 exit as he'd expected. The expressway would take them towards California. He frowned and speeded up just a bit to catch up with the group. He was somewhat surprised when they exited onto I74, which was not on his mapped routes to Charming! Frustrated, and not wanting to get too far away from Indianapolis so he wouldn't miss out on his chance to rob the campus ministry center, he pulled off the interstate onto the breakdown lane and picked up his printed maps, scanning them over and over to try to determine what route she was taking.

'It's a long way to anywhere West on this route!' He mused, tracing a finger along one of the Illinois area maps. She's definitely makin' a tour out of it!' He glanced up at the top of the Illinois map when a thought struck him. 'Route 66!' She's takin' a different way into Chicago in order to take Route 66! That's the only thing that makes sense!'

Satisfied that he'd have no difficulty catching up to the convoy later, he pulled back onto the interstate and made an illegal u turn to go back the way he came. He still had time to get back to Vincennes, complete the theft, and catch up to his prey. It was all in a day's work to him.