2/
"So why are you here Mom?" I asked as I entered the kitchen, done with once again patching up Tig.
Gemma sighed. "Your Grandmother, even after she's gone is still pulling the strings. Grandpa's going into a home. She organized it before she died."
"Oh? Does he know? He loves it here."
"Yeah. He knows. I'm not sure that he remembers what's going on half the time, but he knows."
"And what Happy told me? About you being on the run? What's going on Mom?"
"That bitch Stahl, set me up."
"For what?"
"Murder."
"What? Oh my God Mom! What the hell happened?"
"It doesn't matter sweetheart. Your dad will sort it out." Gemma said with a small smile, that I didn't believe for a moment.
"Is Nate okay to drive?" Tig asked as he entered the kitchen and picked up the coffee pot.
"What? Why?" Mom asked snapping her gaze toward him.
"I ah heard a car about 20 minutes ago. I think it was him." Tig explained.
"Shit." Mom swore rising from her seat and the table and leaving the room in a hurry.
I exchanged a brief glance with Tig before deliberately avoiding his gaze.
"He took his damned hunting rifle." Mom declared as she came back through the kitchen heading toward the front door. I rose to my feet and quickly followed her. "The caddy's gone." She sighed as she stood on the front porch.
"Is he okay to drive?" I asked from behind her. With everything that had gone on since I arrived I hadn't yet laid eyes on my grandfather.
"It depends on which century he thinks his cruising in." Gemma answered dryly running her hand through her hair. "Where would he go damn it?" She continued growing frantic.
"I think I know where he may have gone." I answered, heading back inside to grab my keys from where they sat on the kitchen counter. "I'll go after him."
"I'll come with you if you like." Tig said following me back out to my Dodge Charger where it sat in the driveway.
"No Tig." I said opening the driver's side door.
"Kitty Kat." He began.
"Tig this is'nt about us or what is or isn't going on between us okay? I have to do this on my own. I don't know what sort of state Grandpa is in and apparently your not his favorite person right now."
"True." He responded with a sigh.
"If he's where I think he is then I won't be gone very long."
"Okay Kat." he said, reaching out a hand and running his thumb down the side of my cheek, a long drawn look on his face. I knew he hated what was going on between us, and hell I wouldn't mind betting that my mother's reasoning for calling me here instead of Tara had something to do with forcing us to talk but I'd be damned if I was going to let him walk all over me again.
I pulled my car to a stop in the parking lot of the nearby botanical gardens. I knew if Grandpa was here somewhere he would no doubt have heard my car approach. Everyone did. I climbed out of it and started down to the bank of the duck pond. I knew it was his favorite spot to go when he needed time to himself.
I felt my heart leap in my chest and fear caught in my throat when I saw him sitting on a fallen tree at the edge of the duck pond, the tip of his hunting rifle held against his chin. I drew in a startled breath as I approached him cautiously.
"Grandpa?" I said quietly, distracting him from his no doubt heavy thoughts. He cast his gaze toward me as he lowered the tip of the rifle, a confused look in his eye. He didn't recognize me.
"Grandpa. It's Katherine. Do you remember me?" I asked quietly as I cautiously continued my approach towards him.
"Yes. Yes. Katherine. Of course I do. You were always a good girl." He said lowering the rifle further, recognition flooding his eyes.
"Can I take the gun please Grandpa? You don't need it." I said stretching my hand out toward him.
"What did I do Katherine? Did I kill someone?" He asked as he allowed me to take the gun from his hands as I took a seat beside him.
"No Grandpa. Tig is fine."
"Who's that?"
"The man that you shot. He's going to be fine."
"I thought he was hurting your grandma. I thought he was hurting Rose, but well he couldn't have been could he?" He said in a moment of clarity.
"No Grandpa."
"She's not ever coming back is she?"
"No Grandpa, she's not."
"I miss her Katherine. Every day I miss her. Why do I keep fooling myself into believing that she's still here?" Nate said, his heartbreak evident in his voice.
"Your mind isn't the same as it used to be Grandpa." I said quietly, my heart breaking at the memories of growing up with him and what this horrible disease was now doing to him.
"You were always a good girl Katherine. I remember that." He said with a small smile toward me.
I smiled back, a sad smile. I knew that even before I'd moved back to Charming his dementia had been starting to rear it's ugly head. If it hadn't been he would have remembered the screaming matches I had begun to have with Grandma Rose. "C'mon Grandpa we should be getting back. Mom will be worried about where you are." I said.
"Yes. Yes we should. Rose will be worried too." He said rising slowly to his feet as he steadied himself against me.
I sighed, as I took his arm in mine and led him up the bank to his car, his moment of clarity gone and the continued confusion of his condition returned. "Are you okay to drive back Grandpa? I can follow you in my car."
"Yes. Yes Katherine. I'll be fine," he said pulling the keys from his pocket as we neared his car.
I gave him a small sad smile as I made my way toward my own car and unlocked the door.
"Nate and Kat are back." Tig said looking out the kitchen window.
"Oh thank god!" Gemma exclaimed as she walked quickly toward the front door wrenching it open as Nate stepped up onto the porch.
"Dad! Where were you? Are you okay?" She asked trying to embrace him.
He brushed her aside. "Where's Rose? I need to talk to her." He said walking past her into the house. "Rose?" He called as he walked toward the hallway.
"He's fine Mom." I said making my way up the front steps behind him. "Just as confused as ever but physically fine."
"Where was he?" Gemma asked.
"At the botanical gardens. It's where he used to always go when he was done with me and Grandma fighting." I said quietly still somewhat ashamed of the last year I had spent living in this house.
"Don't beat yourself up Kat. She was a hard woman to live with. I should never have agreed to you living here."
"It's okay Mom. I'm glad you did." I said with a glance toward Tig. It had been on my return to Charming at just sixteen years old that I had first become involved with him.
He returned my glance acknowledging the young innocence that he knew he had taken from me. "I ah, should check in with Clay." He said excusing himself from the room.
"So where was his carer when he slipped off before?" I asked breaking the silence and getting in before Mom could ask what was going on between me and Tig.
"Oh, she's not taking care of him anymore." Gemma said avoiding my gaze.
"Mom? What aren't you telling me?" I asked, recognizing in an instant the avoidance in her answer.
"Tig's little hottie found out about the bounty on my head and got an idea to go cash in on it." Gemma answered still avoiding my gaze.
"And what did you do?" I asked suspicion rising in my tone.
"Relax sweetheart. I didn't kill her. She's just bound and tied up in the basement."
"Mom! For Christ sake!"
"What? I couldn't very well let her go turn me in could I?"
"I guess not." I sighed. "So are you gonna leave her there?"
"I suppose I'll cut her loose once my name is cleared."
"And how long is that going to take?"
"No idea." Gemma answered. "Speaking of her, I suppose the bitch probably needs to pee." She said heading toward the kitchen doorway only to run into Tig.
"Clay wants to talk to you Gem." he said holding his phone out to her.
Gemma sighed turning to me. "Kat could you..." she trailed off.
I knew she was asking me to go see to the needs of the Guatemalan hottie Tig had been banging.
"Sure Mom." I sighed, not missing the confused glance Tig gave me.
I wasn't sure what to expect as I descended the basement stairs, the light slowly creeping away behind me. I swiped my hands out in front of me once I got to the bottom feeling for the light string that I knew was there. I pulled it and flooded the dark room with instant light.
I felt a pang of jealousy as I saw the young south American woman blind folded and bound with duct tape to a wheelchair in the center of the room. So this is the latest woman Tig had been banging? I pushed the thought from my mind. What did I care?
"Who's there?" the young accented voice asked.
"I'm Kat. Gemma's daughter. She sent me to check on you." I answered as I continued to gaze curiously upon her.
"Thank Christ! I was desperate to pee like an hour ago." The woman stated.
I reached for the pan and handed it her noticing that her fingers were nearly blue. Damn it Mom. I thought as I looked down at them. She'd made the duct tape so tight around the woman's wrists that the circulation had all but been cut off.
"How are your hands feeling?" I asked.
"I can't see them but I'm guessing their a nice shade of purple." She answered.
I sighed. "I'll free one hand until the blood flows back in and then the other."
"Thank you." She said sincerely. "I'm Amelia by the way."
"Just don't try anything stupid." I said as I grabbed an old knife from the workbench beside me.
I gazed upon her sitting in front of me blindfolded, while I cut the tape that bound her right wrist and then handed her the bed pan. What was it about women like her that had Tig going back for more again and again? I thought as I gently massaged her fingers to encourage blood flow. She was young and dark haired, flawless dark features; a total contrast to my own features; clearly everything that turned Tig on.
"Could you um?" She asked awkwardly interrupting my thoughts as she handed the now filled bed panme the bed pan.
"Oh Yeah. Of course." I took it from her and turned away to empty it into the sink.
I rolled my eyes, once again pushing Tig from my thoughts as I stupidly turned my back on the woman. I wasn't fast enough to turn around when I heard the sound of the tape on her other wrist being torn off and gasped as something hard was smacked into he back of my head.
I dropped to the ground seeing stars before my eyes as I heard her scuttling up the stairs to the house above.
I squeezed my eyes open and shut a few times in an effort to see straight. The force of the impact had knocked me down but not out. I placed my hand to the throbbing pain at the back of my head as I pushed myself up from the ground with the other. I half wondered whether the bitch had given me a concussion as I struggled to see straight.
I heard Mom cry out at the top of the stairs. I pushed myself up from the ground and made my way up the stairs to the rest of the house above.
"Where are the keys to Nate's car?" I heard Amelia demand as I rounded the corner of the basement doorway to see her holding a knife held against my mothers neck her back pressed hard against the linen closet.
I grabbed the first thing that I saw, a large oversized gold hand sculpture; God knows why my grandfather had such a thing; and swung it hard into the side of Amelia's head. Mom took the opportunity to try to get away but Amelia recovered quickly and lunged toward her with the knife. I grabbed her shoulder and pushed her against the wall and heard her gasp as the knife she held sank into her own chest. She dropped to the ground, blood pooling across the front of the white t shirt she wore. Mom sank to her knees and felt the woman's neck for a pulse. I sank down beside her and did the same.
"Oh my god. She's … she's dead." I gasped shocked at what I had just done. I looked across to my mother over the dead body between us. "What do we do I asked?" My voice shaking.
"Only thing we can do. Tell Tig. He'll clean it up." She said rising from the floor and heading out of the hallway.
"I leave you girls alone for ten minutes!" Tig lamented as he stood at the sink washing the knife that moments ago had been sunken into the chest cavity of his latest conquest.
I watched him sink to his knees to the cupboard below the kitchen sink and pull out a bottle of bleach. I knew it should have unsettled me that he knew exactly what to do when it came to cleaning up blood, not to mention probably a dead body.
"Any ideas?" Mom asked from where she stood behind me. Her hands mussing through my hair just below where I held a cold compress to the quickly forming lump on the side of my head.
"The club can't know." I added.
"This is the last thing the club needs." Mom agreed.
"Then we need to work fast. They're making that run for the Irish. They're gonna be up here tomorrow." Tig responded, clearly thinking on his feet.
I sighed as Mom moved away and Tig took her place behind me. I didn't brush his hand away as he placed it upon my shoulder. "Bachman." He said suddenly. "He could be here in about an hour."
"The cleaner guy?" Mom asked, looking up from where she had taken a seat beside me.
"Yeah. He's independent. Works for around two or three grand but he's good."
"There's not that much cash lying around here." Mom said. "Will he take jewelry?"
"I'll call him." Tig said pulling his phone out.
"Keep my Dad busy. We'll handle her." Mom said with a sigh turning toward me.
"We will?" I asked.
"Yeah. You decided to let her hands breathe. Help me move her back to the basement."
I sighed as I watched Tig leave the room surprised at the relief I felt that he was here to help us out of this mess.