The concluding chapter of Book 1

(Proofing done by Robynn Hoode. Who certainly deserves the credit for putting up with all my your you're's.)

Part 25

I miss my hair.

It’s kind of shallow I know, and I was blonde too! But it’s true. I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally when I… did what I did. But if I had thought about it beforehand I would have chosen something else for what I would miss most. My vagina was a bit hit or miss. It gave me pleasure a few times but pain quite a bit more. I was never really a girly girl so the clothes and makeup were no great loss. Though as SCRATCHY as boxers and t-shirts got I sometimes miss being able to get away with wearing silk. My breasts I don't miss at all, there was a brief period when I was younger when I couldn’t WAIT for them to arrive, but once they did they were more trouble than they were worth. They got in the way of almost everything and boys for some reason couldn’t stop staring at them, even Tommy.

Especially Tommy.

But my hair I do miss after the change. I understand, the irony of an eighteen year old man already worrying about his missing hair so let’s just take it as a given and move on. But I just always enjoyed all the options of long hair, I could wear it up or down. Slip it into a simple ponytail on days when I was feeling drab, or plait it into an intricate weave when I wanted to feel special. And if I ever felt that I needed a change in my life I could get it cut and styled and change my appearance to fit my whimsy. Now however my hair is a permanent quarter inch long and there was nothing that I could do with it.

And I had no one to blame but myself. I was just so damn incredibly ANGRY at the time. And scared, and tired, and weak, and hormonal… but that’s all in the past. Despite my sins I seem to have won all. A family I had never had, the career I always wanted, a wonderful and loving girl and a beautiful daughter. I didn’t deserve any of it, particularly the last, since I had conspired to kill her before she was even born. But I had them now, and was one of the happiest men in the world.

One of the reasons I was so happy was waiting for me at the end of the gate. My new mother and I dropped my bag to give her a careful hug, since she was still recovering from her accident.

“Hello Thomas,” she said a bit unenthusiastically as she returned my hug. “Are you ready for Christmas break?”

“End of semester break,” I corrected her, “You can’t get away with calling it Christmas anymore. It’s not PC.”

“Bah humbug,” she said forcing an affronted smile. “If I wish to call it Christmas I shall do so and no Yankee Admiral is going to tell me otherwise.”

“Yes mother, where’s Katie? Is she still in the car?”

“No she’s still at the house. Moving the wheelchair is a bit of a logistical exercise and she needed to stay home to… entertain her guest.”

“Oh, who’s visiting?” I asked mildly curious.

“Her mother,” she said after a brief hesitation.

The fuck?

“You’re her mother,” I said cold and unemotional, dreading her clarification.

“Her stepmother then. It was a total surprise. She had apparently tried calling and sending emails. But Katherine had changed her number and address and the first we heard of it was when the poor women showed up at our doorstep.”

“She’s hardly POOR!” I shouted at her a bit surprised at the volume that escaped.

“I gather she is actually Tom,” resting her hand on my shoulder as she indicated the exit with her other. “Her clothes are all last season or even earlier and the jewelry she wore, some of it was real but the gaudiest was a very clever fake. I would never have noticed accept Mrs. Gabriel was forced to buy one just like it when her husband died last year and I got a good look at it. I don’t think she has anywhere else to go for the holidays.”

“Then she has only herself to blame, she stole MILLIONS from my f…from Katie.”

“Katherine didn’t mention anything about that, she didn’t say anything, she just turned her wheelchair around went back to the nursery and locked herself in. It was rather rude actually.”

“RUDE!”

“Yes it was, whatever the history involved you don’t leave a visiting family member cold in the entryway without even the grace of a go to hell. I don’t think she’s emotionally recovered yet from the accident. I want you to tread very lightly with that girl when we get back to the house Thomas, is that understood.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed nodding my head at her. “I’ll help her through it, now that… that woman is gone I should be able to talk her down.”

“Well…”

“What?”

“I just assumed, she brought several pieces of luggage. She’s staying for the holidays, it’s only natural that she would want to meet her new granddaughter. When I left to pick you up the security team was to bring her items upstairs.”

“You left that woman in my house!” I grabbed her violently and turned her around to face me.

“Thomas, control yourself!” she scolded me as she shoved off my hands.

“You don’t understand what she has done; she deserves to be run out of town on the rails not welcomed home for a glass of eggnog and a full Christmas stocking!”

“Be that as it may. It was not my place or YOURS to make that decision. It is not your house Thomas, it is Katherine’s, and absent her instructions I had to act as any person of good manners would. It was too late to send her to a hotel, even if one could be found for the holiday.”

“You and your damn manners… where would she even sleep, that house is full to the bursting?”

“The master bedroom,” she said, though she had the good grace to look downward ashamed while she said it.

“Not… damn you, not there. How could you?”

“It was the only space available; Katherine can’t sleep upstairs in her condition. I set up a cot for you in her office where she is sleeping at the moment…. It’s almost ten PM Thomas; I’ll never understand these regional airports timetables. Let’s worry about it in the morning."

***

The door was locked of course when I came to the nursery. And it was one of those fancy jobs that locked and unlocked from the inside, which, when I thought about it, was probably a safety hazard that I would need to speak to Katie about afterwards. I had grown up in this house though and I knew all its tricks, so about a minute later I had returned with a wire hanger that I straightened out enough to jimmy the lock from this side. I slowly opened the door to step inside and greet my girl and my daughter one of whom had a gun pointed at my head. I’ll leave you to determine which.

“Jess!” said Katherine as she relaxed herself at the same time as my sphincter. “Oh god, SHE’S here.”

“I know,” I said as I walked up to her and got down on my knees to get the right angle to hug her. “Mother told me at the airport, our real mother I mean.”

“I just couldn’t,” she said as a few tears began to form and she tried to wipe them away with an uninjured hand. “I just couldn’t deal with it, not today, not on top of everything else.”

“I know. I would probably be in much worse shape if our roles were reversed.”

“Our roles SHOULD be reversed,” she shouted at me in such a manner that I was pleased the nursery and former music room was soundproofed.

“I know,” I repeated not able to look her in the eye. “Just… just don’t do anything rash for now. I don’t want you to get how you get.”

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?”

“It means, where did you get that gun?” I asked calmly. “and how about we put it back where you found it?”

“It was one of the relics in the gun cabinet that father Scott left behind. And I am not walking around unarmed while … that woman is in my city. There is a little holster on the inside of my chair and no one can see it if they don’t know to look for it.”

“It’s worse than you think Katie.”

“What,” she said confused as she checked the safety on her pistol and put it back at her side. “How could it be WORSE?”

“Mother went all southern when you abandoned the field of battle,” I said keeping an eye on her gun hand for when she inevitably went for it again. “Couldn’t say the inn was full on Christmas and all that. She's staying the night in the house… in the only room available.”

“You mean?” she started to say and then realized the implications. I had the use of both my hands, and I knew what reaction to expect. so her sudden desire to arm herself again was futile. After about 15 seconds and one attempt to bite me she eventually gave up and started crying again.

I almost preferred being shot instead.

“It will be all right baby, I swear,” I said trying to comfort her. “Katie don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying!” she shouted again wiping her yes with her sleeve. “It’s the damn hormones that are!”

“waa…waaaa aaaaaaaa!!!!” said a third voice entering the conversation. “wwwwaaaaaaaa!!”

“NOW look what you did!” said Katherine as she rolled over to the crib and carefully began picking up our daughter. The crib had had its legs removed so it was much closer to the floor than was usual, the better for mother to reach her daughter in her current injured state. It would give back problems to the rest of the household when they attempted to service the baby but from the look on her face I don’t think Katherine was worried about that problem. Since I doubted she would let anyone else touch Mary Margaret at the moment, not even her putative father. As she lifted up our baby, her hold on her looked a bit unsteady so I went in to offer assistance with both my good hands and almost had one of them bitten off for my efforts.

“I’m fine Thomas,” she said giving me a withering stare I had once seen on the face of Professor Ryan.

“I’m just trying to help.”

“You want to help! Get that woman out of my house, OUT OF MY BED! If I leave this room and she is still here one of us is going to die and I already know where to get earth moving equipment for digging a grave.”

“… noted,” I said slightly concerned at the content of that statement and its truthful sounding tone.

***

“Really, I just don’t understand all that girls drama,” said my stepmother as she sipped her morning coffee the next day. “She has been the same way ever since her poor father died. Before that even. Always blowing things out of proportion and leaping without looking. Martin would be so disappointed.”

“I doubt that very much,” I said clinching my fingernails into my skin and embracing the pain as a more socially acceptable distraction than throttling the woman across the breakfast table from me.

“And what would you know about it young man?” she asked me glancing in my direction slowly as if she was doing me a favor by deigning to notice me.

“Katherine has told me a lot about her father as well as many of the old family friends who knew him,” I replied as a much more reasonable sounding answer than the truth.

“I believe I understand my husband better than any… stranger could. And Jessica was always--”

“KATHERINE,” I corrected her as I drew a bit of blood with my nails.

“As you say,” she nodded at me with a smile that somehow never reached her eyes. “Jessica Katherine always had an unhealthy fondness for her father. If he had been alive when she became a young woman people would have started to talk.”

“God DAMN you!” I shouted as I got up out of my chair and knocked the wooden implement to the kitchen floor.

“Thomas!” said Professor Ryan scolding as she dashed to my side and put a retraining hand on my right arm. “Control yourself; you were raised better than that.”

WAS I !?

“You should take your mother’s advice,” the harridan in front of me lectured. “If you keep that sort of behavior up I’ll be forced to leave you off the list when I go last minute shopping today.”

“Shopping?” I asked, not believing that even SHE would have the gall to come here and actually give us a Christmas present in the face of all this hostility.

“Yes, though in the afternoon, this morning I have a meeting with some old… friends.”

***

“In a just civilization,” said Uncle Bernie an hour later. “Lauren Ewing Scott would have been lined up against a wall and shot… we however live in the United States.”

“What have you been able to find out Mr. DeGeas?” I asked as I took off my overcoat and draped it over one of his chairs while I remained standing.

“Precious little, Midshipman Ryan, precious little,” he answered as he readjusted the flaps of one of his toy 'planes. “And I’m not sure what all I can actually tell you about your ex-wife’s affairs.”

“Fiancé,” I clarified for him stiffly.

“Congratulations when did you pop the question?”

“Shortly after I find a ring worthy of her. It's informal for the moment.”

“Yes, she explained all that. Seems like something badly in need of a lawsuit you ask me. Still I am tied by confidentiality.”

“Katherine is rather not up to the fight if you get my meaning. The baby and her injuries and all that. She asked that I try to sort things out while I am here. She gave me this proxy but you can call her and speak to her directly if you like,” I said as I gave over a piece of paper with Katie’s hastily handwritten scrawl on it.

Give him whatever he wants, tell him whatever he wants, I trust him DeGeas though not myself at the moment. That woman cannot be allowed to breath the same air as me and I would already have taken matters into my own hands if one of them wasn’t out of action at the moment. Please… we must stop her and I don’t have the strength to do it alone.

- Katherine Scott.

“Humph,” he grunted when he finished reading. “Since I got your call last night…early this morning anyway. I have been working the angles and not liking what I found. A few days ago the archives of the probate court were assessed by the Dewey-Chaetham-Howe law firm out of Chicago, they have a branch office here and two of their associates pulled Martin Scott's will. Furthermore, one of my contacts at the courthouse says that Judge Kottler has a motion before him to submit the original will to ‘testing’ . The implications of which I don’t like at all.”

“Testing?” I asked confused. “What could they be looking for?’

“Anything and everything they can find, they will use the merest hint of impropriety to contest the will.”

“What could she be after? She has already taken millions that were due her, and much more that wasn’t. She's grabbed everything there was to grab!”

“That was true enough, last month, THIS month however Katherine has control of the Scott company.”

“Not in a million years would the Scott Company be left to a wife! It’s handed down from father to son, down the generations. Father to daughter in this case, but always to whoever would keep it intact and operating. That’s the reason it was primogeniture and never broken up into little pieces for collateral heirs. The idea that it would be left to a wife who was never going to lead the company, or even produce any more Scotts is preposterous!”

“I know that,” said DeGeas warily. “Though I’m surprised you do.”

“Katherine and I talked about these things all the time,” I said trying to wave it away. “What are we going to do to stop her?”

“I’m a couple of days behind the decision curve Midshipman Ryan and trying to catch up before the world shuts down for the holidays. I’ll try to get more answers soon. For now, just head back to comfort your girl and keep a close eye on the good silver. And try to figure out where that woman is getting the funding for all this. Those shysters don’t come cheap.”

***

I told her what I had found out as soon as I got back, and it seemed like I cut the strings from a puppet. She just curled up in a ball on her little cot and wouldn’t even respond when Mary Margaret started crying again. Despite my original gender I was never really comfortable around babies and I brought mother and one of the guards in to help soothe the baby while I tried to take care of Katherine. I had never seen her like this before, or HIM for that matter, Tommy/Katie was just larger than life. If she hit a wall she set her charges and blew up the fucking wall and then insulted the damn fool who had put it up while she did it. Maybe it was post-partum depression like those Lifetime movies were always talking about? I was incredibly wary of trying to get her psychological help though, all she had to do was tell the TRUTH and whatever well meaning stooge that tried to examine her would lock her up for her own safety as an obvious lunatic. No, the only way I could help my once and future wife would be to remove the cause of all her recent distress. By any means necessary.

The building was just as I remembered it, squat and fat, and at about nine stories was dwarfed by the high rises surrounding it. The lower level had actually been converted to a series of small shops so it was no trouble at all to blend in with all the last minute shoppers. The main bank of elevators took me to the 3rd floor and I walked west past the first door, past the second, past the third, stop. Turn to your left, feel up and down the wooden panel bracketing the drywall. A little more, a little more, where is it? Click.

The wall slid back, if an enterprising maintenance person ever got this far they would see the brick wall behind and assume it had been hidden in the renovation and for whatever reason the panel had come loose. But it looks like no one had found it…

***

“Look at the little discoloration on this brick, Jessie,” said my father “Do you see it?”

“Yes, daddy,” I replied trying to please him.

“Three bricks up, two bricks right and push!” he said as he indicated it for me and then the wall opened up to reveal a door and what I thought was solid brick was just an inch thick and pasted onto the entrance to make it look real.

“Cool!” I said smiling ear to ear.

“Yeah it is pretty nice if I do say so myself,” said Martin Scott as he walked inside the room. “Come on Jessie it’s after bedtime, particularly for you! But I want you inside before anyone sees.”

“Ok,” I said exited as I rushed past him into the dark room. He pressed a switch by the door and the inside was illuminated then he pulled the drywall façade back into place and shut the faux brick door behind them. The inside was small and there were no windows at all. The ceiling was bare insulation and several different pipes. There was a bed, a desk and chair, and a toilet, and a little plastic shower that was just an oversized dish imbedded in the floor with some curtains as privacy. There was a little kitchen area on the far wall, and every other section of the walls was covered with heavily laden shelving full of all sorts of things I could only half identify at that age. It was one of the dingiest and most frightening rooms I had ever seen in my young life and I instinctually went over and embraced my father in self defense.

“Hey now, don’t be afraid princess,” he said to comfort me. “I won’t ever let anything happen to you.”

“What are we doing here, daddy? And why now? You always yell at me when I stay up this late reading.”

“And I’d scold you now Jessica, never so politically incorrect a thing as yelling at my child, if you were trying to pull one over me. But this is for a good reason. Here, sit on the bed and I’ll take the chair and I’ll try to explain what all is going on.”

“Okay,” I said as I sat on the bed and tried to get comfortable.

“This place,” he started to say, and then stopped hesitantly. “This place is like; well you know the tree house-clubhouse thing you have in the backyard.”

“Of course, I spent all summer there, with Roy and David across the street. They made fun of me about the ‘no girls allowed’ sign though.”

“Yeah, your Uncle Peter and I thought it was appropriate to put that up back when we built it in the sixties. If it’s causing you trouble a claw hammer will solve that problem. I can sort it out tomorrow?”

“Naw, it’s ok it keeps all the nasty girls out, it doesn’t apply to me cus it’s MY tree house.”

“Your logic is a bit specious,” he said smiling a bit at my comments.

“Huh?” I asked not knowing what that word meant.

“You need more female friends is my point, I guess. Your mother…she wouldn’t have liked you being such a tomboy, my own fault probably, taking you all over hell and gone without someone to teach you how to be a little girl. I thought Lauren might help but… well that doesn’t matter… the point I’m trying to get at, I guess, is that this is a sort of a grown up clubhouse. But instead of ‘no girls allowed.’ It’s 'no one who is not a Scott allowed'.”

“Is that why stepmother is not here?”

“That’s right. She doesn’t know this place is here or how to get it open, like I’ll keep showing you till you get it right. No one knows it’s here, not even really the people who built it. During the renovation, I’m sure you’ll be shocked to learn, I used non-union labor.” He said rubbing my head a little affectionately.

“What’s that mean daddy?”

“Well, it means… you’ll get the full meaning when you are older, for now, the guys that built this little hidey hole are back safe in Guatemala with enough money that they never have to come back here, and wouldn’t be able to answer any questions in English even if they could.”

“So it’s a secret?”

“Yes, it is, I own this building though no one knows it, not even the people that manage it. Their sole purpose is to make enough money to pay the electric bill and cover the maintenance. To keep this building a going concern so that people can be coming and going without being noticed, and of course, never be sold. It’s also on the National Historic Register… do you remember what that is?”

“It’s like a museum for buildings.”

“That’s right, it means even after I’m gone no one will be able to rip her guts out. Not for a hundred years. And this little area will stay hidden, known but to me… and you. There are others like it in New York, London, and Singapore, used to be one in Hong Kong but I shut it down last year, can’t trust the ChiComs to keep to their contract. When you get a little older, I’ll show you them too.”

“Are we going traveling again!” I asked exited.

“No Jessie, we talked about that. You need to get a little mud on your shoes from the same place two months running. Traveling as a gypsy band isn’t good for a growing girl.”

“And what about a growing boy!” I argued with him sure the answer would have been different.

“Him too,” my father laughed. “I mean look at how I turned out.

“I’m just so BORED here, daddy, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted turning to the desk and retrieving a set of papers from the drawer. “But I’m doing it for your own good. The way we have lived is no way to raise a child, you’ll find out about that when you get older too. I have stuff here to keep me busy, plenty of paperwork that was piling up when I wasn’t paying attention, then there’s the pedestrian bridge across the river to Council Bluffs.”

“A bridge daddy? For PEOPLE to walk across! We were going to build an airport!”

“I know, I know,” he said raising his hands in surrender. “But it lets me keep my hand in; when that’s done, First National is putting up a new tower across the street. I will be building the tallest structure in the state, and for a couple states in any direction. That’s plenty enough for me… for now. When you get older-”

“Never, you mean,” I said interrupted him annoyed at that constant phrase and so I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest.

“No, not never. There aren’t enough Scotts left to waste one. No matter how scrawny she is!” he said as he moved in and stared tickling me mercilessly. I laughed and giggled for a good half a minute because he knew all my vulnerable places after years of practice.

“Dad, stop! Hee, hee , STOP it Daddy, UNCLE!! I give up!”

“Ah, all right daughter of mine, it’s no fun when you don’t put up a fight,” he said as he lost some of his good humor when he saw the folder he had dropped on the bed in his tickle attack. “You’re probably wondering why I brought you here?”

“Kinda,” I admitted as I tried to brush my hair back into something manageable. “It’s cool and all but it’s so far from the house, I can’t really get here unless you drive me, not even if I take my bike. And besides you and Lauren get so mad whenever I go a block or two away from home anyway.”

“She wants you to call her mother,” he said shaking his head a bit.

“She can keep wanting. I know you think marrying would make me a better girl but I don’t like her and did you see that dress she put me in at Easter, it was like I was four years old.”

“I liked that dress.”

“Fine, then you can wear it next year!” I said and then started giggling again at the mental picture.

“My grandfather would turn in his grave at the disgrace to the family. Which rather brings us back to the subject at hand.”

“Grandpa in a dress?”

“The family… and our history.”

“Oh,” I said knowing enough, to know that the subject matter had got serious and it was time to stop giggling.

“It’s not just our name Jessica, but our heritage, The Scotts are Scots-Irish American.”

“How can we be three things at once?”

“History, and never letting any of it go when most people are content to forget it as soon as possible. You see Jessie, our people came west across the water in the Ulster plantation when Jimmy the first and sixth thought it would be a good idea to eliminate the local Hibernians. It wasn’t the first time we had migrated if you believe the geneticists, The Vikings had apparently settled in the lowlands when Scandinavia got too cold. And it wasn’t the last time we moved certainly. Soon enough famine, pestilence or war, or all three, drove us west again to the colonies and America. We probably weren’t called Scott then, just a name some English administrator hung on us because he couldn’t pronounce our proper one.”

“What was our name then?” I asked slightly curious.

“Known but to God,” my father said chagrined glancing skyward. “Our name is Scott now and forevermore and don’t let anyone take it away from you. I expect you to be a proper feminesta when you get married.”

“Huh”

“I’ll explain that one later too, so we landed from Ulster, just in time to join in the war of American Rebellion. Managed to choose the winning side, somehow, and came out of it rather rich. That state of affairs lasted a generation or two until Andy Jackson, that bank busting son of a bitch did us in the 1830’s. So what did we do then?”

“Rebuild?" I guessed, not knowing. “Kill Jackson?”

“Ha! Well both him and old Daniel Scott were dueling men, but they never met that way. Daniel chose the bottle instead and Harry Scott didn’t have anything left to rebuild when he came into adulthood. So he followed tradition and went west, California, the new territories. Managed to make himself a real Nob Hill fortune in the gold fields. The family probably would have stayed there too if the SECOND American revolution hadn’t occurred and brought us back east. I hope you never have to see a Civil War, princess. I've seen three peripherally, one in South America and two in Africa. It's the worst sort of a war.”

“Then what were we doing fighting one?”

“Well it was more or less expected. Back then, if you were a certain social class and a certain age, you joined up or were called a coward and shunned from society forever, hell, even past a certain age. Being 52 didn’t stop your great grandfather Roger from signing on after Pearl Harbor. When a nation gives so much to you, it’s only polite to give some back in her hour of peril. Cometh the hour, cometh the man, that was the old saying. And we came more often than we went, which possibly explains why there are so few of us left… And often there is a price, old Hieronymus he tried doubling his fortune by betting the wrong way on war production and lost everything. So what did his son William do?”

“West!” I answered sure of the answer.

“That’s right! Both sides had lost that war but we had won a country at the end of it, and there was a mostly empty continent to go along with it. William went west with the Union Pacific and tore a hole in the Earth across the Rocky Mountains a feat that had never before been accomplished and few times since. We settled in Omaha where U.P. made their headquarters and have been here since. Most of us anyway, Henry Scott had itchy feet and left his father’s house for Australia. But if was the salvation of us, in the Panic of 1893 it was the cadet branch of the family that saved us from ruin.”

“West again.”

“Yup, and now… now my dear girl there is now no more west.”

“Huh,” I commented not tracking his logic, I was still rather young for existential conversations. “How can you run out of a direction?”

“Technology, and the times we live in, you remember flying with Captain Jack?”

“Oooh, in his Gulfstream IV!?”

“My Gulfstream,” my father commented dryly. “Though he seldom admits to the ownership.”

“He let me fly a bit when we were going to Abu Dhabi!”

“He let you hold the wheel for a few seconds that's hardly flying.”

“More than you… I want to be a pilot when I grow up.”

“Last week it was a baseball player?”

“I can do both!” I got up and started jumping up and down on the bed while making engine noises with my mouth.

“Jessie, sit down please, we still have a lot to go… I knew that ice cream was a mistake. The point I’m trying to make is that a fast plane with enough refuels can circle the world in a day. We’ve covered every bit of this globe, left to right and top to bottom. There is no frontier, no great untapped wilderness to plant your flag and make a fortune. No place to run… if people are after you.

“Are people after us, daddy?” I asked getting a little scared.

“I think, that… its time you were shown this hiding place. This is an inventory,” he said handing me the papers. “It lists what is here, where it is, what it does, the amounts. Someday, and I pray that day never comes, I may be gone and you are on your own and will need what’s here.”

“Daddy, you’re scaring me.”

“Good, a little scared goes a long way. Now don’t cry, Jessie, I intend to go on living for quite a while yet. But it’s one of the first rules of engineering, hope for the best, but plan for the worst. This room is for the worst… there are enough dry foods and other provisions for a pair of people to last six months without leaving. There are copies of important documents and records from every part of our company, there are weapons enough to fight a minor world war and enough liquid money to keep you from ever having to rebuild from nothing like we have had to do several times before.”

“What is liquid money, do you have to carry it around in a bottle or something?”

“No liquid just means… look you know your bike?”

“Yeah,” I responded cautiously since he had threatened to take it away from me several times and I didn’t want to give him any reminders that I was actually overdue for one of his capture attempts.

“You paid $150 for it, had to save up for weeks to get it right?”

“Yes daddy, and is now a good time to ask for an increase in my allowance?”

“$20, a week is more than plenty. So let’s assume your bike is immune to depreciation and is still worth $150. A new toy comes along, maybe a model airplane. Its $100 but you don’t have any savings because you spent it all on soda and candy like you usually do, so can you walk into the toy store and trade your $150 bike for the $100 plane? It would seem to be a good deal.”

“Um…no?”

“That’s right, because the storekeeper needs to eat and the grocery store won’t accept a used bike in exchange for some meat and potatoes. So your bike is an asset but it is not easily liquidated, you can’t turn it into something else. Think of money like a coke in a two liter bottle. While it’s liquid if you want the Coke inside you just pour it into a waiting glass but if it’s frozen, how easy is it to drink then? Get it?”

“I guess,” I said twisting a bit on the bed uncomfortable.

“The whole point of this place is to serve as a refuge, a hiding place for when things are at their worst. Someone is… I’ve been hearing…,” he sighed noisily while he closed his eyes and let his head rest back in the chair. “There are some bad men out there and they are going after Scotts. Too many of us have died recently for it to be coincidence.”

“Like Uncle Peter?” I asked shivering a bit despite the warm spring evening.

“Yes,” was his simple single word response.

“Like mom?” I said softly, almost to afraid to say the words.

“Your mother was sick… no one was after her.” He said, but he also didn’t look me in the eye when he said it. “It’s getting late princess, WAAAY past your bedtime. We will come back here again later, for now I want you to repeat those names and numbers I had you memorize. Do you remember.”

“Max Thorson 402-555-8982,” I said proudly remembering the first name and number. We had been practicing at bedtime for weeks.

“That perfect! Now if the number doesn’t work there is this,” he said pulling out a device from the second desk drawer and handing it to me. “It’s sort of like a radio, but it only has one frequency right to Max, you must only use it as a last resort… he’s a bit quick to anger.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s, well he’s a bit like a soldier.”

“Like Uncle Ben?”

“Your uncle Ben is a Marine, and would not like to be insulted by being called a soldier. Max here, he’s good at fighting though, and very little else, but he owes me a favor and a decent stack of money. I’ll never see the money again, but he’s always good for a favor. Do you remember the bank?”

“Credit’ Imobilare , Zurich 215 Enurgine Strasse. 23149005759855 PIN 61658137 Passphrase. ‘I’m givin her all she’s got,’ what does that mean daddy?”

“Don’t you… you know that show we watch on Saturday nights?”

“DS9?”

“Yea, it’s a little joke, a phrase from the show that came before it.”

“The one with the bald guy?”

“No this one was, well, come to think of it I hear he uses a hair piece so maybe, I’ve got them on tape we’ll watch a few this weekend. Let’s get you back to bed. Now remember, always check the peephole before removing the drywall panel. Opening up a secret passageway in front of some shopping tourist will sort of give you a bad day.”

A month later he was dead.

***

It was where I remembered it, the bottom shelf on the south wall. A full sized army green footlocker that was at the moment unlocked. Inside were a dozen objects wrapped in oilcloth and a piece of paper stuck to the top of the hatch.

Marty,

Do us both a favor and burn this note when you get these. I know you people like to keep records of everything but if those federal finooks catch you with it, it’s both our asses. Well, me they would send up for a while, you they may just raise an eyebrow at now that I think about it…must be nice to OWN the country club not just be a member. These guns are colder than the last ice age, manufactured before serial numbers were required if you are pulled over you can tell the police it's one of those antiques you people are so well known for collecting. What won’t be easy to explain away will be the abrading on the grip and trigger mechanism, it will stop fingerprints from forming on the rough surface as long as you are careful how you hold it, and all that shouldn’t affect firing. The company that sold these was bought out by a company, which was bought out by another and sold to one that went out of business. They have been sitting in one of my capo’s basement since before you were born and have never been used. Bought em as surplus after the war. All that is by way of saying they can never be tracked back to you, and if the situation ever comes up you don’t need to be afraid to use it.

Marty I don’t like that you asked for these, even if you are paying me a fortune for em, I have enough money but not enough friends. You got some trouble that you can’t go to law for you should just come to me and not take matters in your own hand. Just give me a name and I’ll send a few boys over to straighten em out.

Marcone

My father didn’t have time to teach me how to shoot. I was after all only eight years old when he died. He did however know how curious his little girl was about everything and made sure that I knew enough not to do myself injury. Most of those tragic accidents involving firearms and children were a result of eager kids not fully understanding how dangerous the damn things were and he made sure I was aware, and after a few spankings the lesson even took. The teaching task fell to my uncle Ben, who among other things, used to take me out of boarding school periodically for a trip back to the real world and kept me sane for all those years between the death of my father and when I met Tommy. We would go camping out in the wilderness, far enough off the beaten path that no one minded if you let off a few rounds in practice. He taught me safety, and maintenance and marksmanship and I was already two or three steps above most of the plebes this summer when we did firearm training. The navy oddly enough had a somewhat different lesson number one than Major Benjamin Murphy.

Never point a gun at someone unless you mean to kill them.

***

I was driving west on Highway 92 when I saw the flashing lights in my rearview mirror and the jolting sound of a siren. I tried not to freak out when it happened and there was nothing that could be done even if I wanted to. I wasn’t exactly driving a getaway car. I had purchased this piece of shit off of some guy from Craig’s list paying with cash from the safe house. The guy seemed surprised as hell, when I just handed over the money and didn’t even try to dicker but I just needed something that would run, and a fast transaction. So all I did was make sure the ignition kicked over, counted out the money and was out of his driveway before the cab I had taken had even left the neighborhood. It wasn’t pretty to look at though and likely the cop behind me was pulling me over just for missing a proper taillight, or maybe a wheel…

“License and registration and proof of insurance please sir,” said the young female officer when she walked up to my window. She was pretty to look at if you went in for that sort of thing but still had her hand resting on her holster in anticipation of any trouble.

“Here is my ID ma’am,” I said handing over my cards. “I literally just bought this car a few hours ago so I haven’t had a chance to update the registration. I do have insurance… pretty good one actually, but I haven’t had a chance to update it for this car yet, again I just got it. Here’s the title, you can see the transfer was signed today…”

“Uh huh,” she said nodding at me as she squinted to take a look at the proffered document.

“What’s this all about officer?” I asked trying not to sound as scared as I was. “Did something fall off the back, I know I wasn’t speeding… my mother and fiancé were just involved in a bad car accident and I have been extra careful lately.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that, you in the service?” she asked indicating my U.S. Military ID.

“Yes ma’am, Navy, I’m on leave though?”

“I’m not looking for deserters Mr. Ryan this is a field sobriety checkpoint. Christmas Eve and all that. Please exit the vehicle.”

“Yes ma’am,” I answered as I complied with her order.

“Please walk in a straight line heels to your toes… … … ok blow into this,” she said handing me a plastic device that I quickly exhaled in. “Looks like you haven’t been drinking tonight.”

“I’m underage, still a few years yet to 21,” I said trying to smile and set her on her ease and otherwise come off as charming as possible.

“Doesn’t stop a lot of boys,” she answered gruffly totally immune to my wiles, damn it but this was a lot easier when I was a girl doing it to guys. “Make sure to get your registration up to date, you only have thirty days and you need to get your policy updated within the same time-frame.”

“Understood, yes ma’am,” I said as I bowed slightly to her and then walked back to my car door to get back inside. The officer went back to her cruiser and then killed the lights and drove back to her hiding spot ready to pounce on the next unsuspecting passerby on this lonely stretch of highway. I pitied the next boozed up sucker that tried to get past her.

I started the engine and drove further west. I was well past the city now, and had even left the county behind me 10 miles ago. I was in the lightly settled countryside near Wahoo, where the Eastern Nebraska farms were considered small if they were under a 1000 acres. My destination was one that had been on the realty websites for over two years and was certain to be unoccupied at this time of night, in this part of the season. The gate to the house was shut and locked but the nice thing about farm country and not ranch country is that the fields are flat and not wired so a little drive off the road and up the grass got me in the driveway and I parked the car at the front door and cut the lights. The house itself was also dark and we were far enough past the highway that any passing car would have to work hard to see something even if they knew to be looking.

The door was locked, but one of the advantages about my new body was its core strength and a few good kicks were enough to knock it off the hinges and gain me entrance. I unloaded the bags I had packed and brought them inside being careful to leave my gloves on the entire time. When I was done with all this I would have to remember to burn them along with the boots I was wearing with their distinctive tread marks. Once everything had been set up I went back to the trunk of my new beat up used car and opened it up to reveal the gagged, bound and struggling figure of my stepmother.

She had got some work done in the last year, I would almost have trouble recognizing her, almost. But that face was forever burned in my memory. I carried her inside like a hunk of Christmas meat and tossed her anorexic ass down on the bed in the first room I found. I used my knife to cut her gag but left her other restrains bound.

“You may scream all you like now,” I said coolly as I pulled my Browning Hi-Power out of the bag next to me. “But there is no one for miles and miles to hear you.”

“What the fuck!” she screamed at me while wiggling around to get a better angle. “What the hell did I ever do to you?!”

Oh let me count the ways…

“It’s not about what you did to me it’s what you are going to do…”

“Oh what is that?” she sneered at me, always did have a wonderful sneer my stepmother. She lost a good deal of it though when she got a good look at what was in my hand.

“You’re going to tell me… why you’re here.”

“I came here to visit my daughter, that’s all I swear. This is all a big mistake.”

“I believe part of that statement. So… you want me to believe you were so overcome with filial duty after all this time that you came back to visit family…grandma,” I finished knowing she would HATE to be called that.

“Don’t call me that!” she retorted angrily, forgetting her situation a bit, as the sneer returned.

“One goes with the other Lauren, if she is your daughter then HER daughter makes you a grandmother. But since you don’t seem to care for the new title, or even any sort of relationship with Katherine before I find your statement hard to believe. I didn’t want to actually bring it up, generally preferring subtlety, but this gun is loaded after all.” I said, lifting it a few times for emphasis.

“You’re not going to kill me, there is… what about witnesses?”

“You mean the mercenaries who will be out of the country soon? I wouldn’t worry about them.”

“I… I… that is to say, I was sent here. He found me in Cornwall and paid me $100,000 dollars to come back. And more if my name could be used as part of some legal engagement.”

“Which you gladly took. Run out so soon did you? Must have been around the time your looks started to fade?”

“That’s none of your business,” she said furiously as she clenched her jaw on the insult she wanted to hurl back at me.

“Fair enough, what is my business is the name of the man who sent you.”

“He’ll ... I would really prefer young man, not to anger him by telling you. Why don’t you just let me go and I’ll head back immediately and tell him I couldn’t go through with it.”

“What do you think I’m going to be if you don’t tell me,” I said getting closer and pressing the gun against her temple. “Worry about me.”

“Richard Scott!” she cried out as she tried moving her head out of the way of my gun barrel.

“Richard…” my blood went cold in my veins as I gritted my teeth. “His name is Richard Webster.”

“Not to hear him tell it,” she retorted whimsically.

“What does he want?”

“I gather he wants it all, and I was happy enough to take my own little piece of it on the way.”

“That’s all you ever cared about isn’t it? Money.”

“Not the money exactly, but the things that it could buy.”

I digested that news and wasn’t pleased with it. Bad enough that WSM had returned but if she had help she would be ten times as dangerous. And a HUNDRED times worse with… that man. I had only met him once, but once was enough to last a lifetime, even my borrowed one. If he was back and making a play in a big way he had to be fought. I didn’t really think something like vehicular manslaughter was something he was capable of but with this amount of money on the line it made people do all sorts of things they would not usually engage in. He must be stopped, and one good way to do that would be to take his game piece off the board… one way or another.

I pulled a heavy green plastic box out of my hard case and dropped it on the bed next to her. The weight was enough to send the springs of the mattress up and down for quite a while afterwards. An event reproduced by the second box dropped next to it.

“What’s that,” she asked frightened.

“A choice,” I said quietly as I opened the top of the box to reveal 25 plastic sleeves. I flipped the top open on one and I scattered the coins on top of her several of which went down her tasteful evening gowns front, lodging next to her silicone heart.

“Wa…what?”

“Those are American Golden Eagles. One ounce, 22 karat. The spot prices vary wildly it’s been from $900-1075 this last month. But generally speaking each one of those coins is a thousand dollars. There are twenty in a sleeve, 25 sleeves to a box and there are two boxes. That’s about a million dollars laying in this bed, which combined with the two cents your life is actually worth adds up to a pretty penny. You can take it, as long as you take it, and you, away forever. You are never allowed to see or speak to Katherine again, never allowed in the state of Nebraska again and of course, NEVER to help … that man again.”

“Where did you get this? Jessica sent you didn’t she? I KNEW that bastard was hiding money!”

I lost my temper a bit at that, and struck her with my closed fist right in the left eye. I know it was generally frowned upon for a man to hit a woman but then I wasn’t a very good man as these things go.

“Don’t worry about where I got it,” I continued with a tremble in my voice. “Spending it is your department. I’m sure you have that handled.”

“You are just going to give me a million dollars?” she asked a bit dumbstruck. Either by my love tap or the change in events it was difficult to tell.

“No,” I answered coldly with enough of a pause so she was able to digest the implications. “I’m not giving you anything. I am buying your life. I’m overpaying for it I know, but then I was never that good with business.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m a thief, stepmother. I’m a liar, a coward, an oath breaker. The case could even be made, with only the slightest of legal machinations , of rape.” I finished as she squirmed a little bit back at that statement and I was ashamed to be pleased at the reaction she had to my body. “What I am not though… yet… is a murderer. So that’s the choice you have to make, take the money and run, or … not. Refuse and I kill you, take the money and change your mind later and I kill you, try to get someone else to do your dirty work for you and I kill you. In fact you will have to work very hard for this money, to convince me to keep you alive. Jessica Katherine Scott is one of the most precious things in the world to me, and I know I am not worthy of her. And I will do just about anything and spend ANY price, to keep her alive. So… what’s it going to be?”

***

It was 0300 Christmas day before I got home. I very much hoped that I would be able to have a normal holiday experience with my family one of these days, but knowing them, and Katherine, as well as I did that probably wasn’t going to happen soon. Both baby and mother were sleeping when I got back, though Katherine was still armed I could see. I grabbed the baby’s portable crib and carried my daughter up the stairs to the master bedroom setting her up at the foot of the bed. Returning to the nursery I reached down into Katherine’s cot and putting one arm under her legs and one under her back lifted her up and began carrying her as well. She was light enough in my arms, with the baby born, and her illness, if she was over a hundred pounds now I would be surprised. It was also a testament to how ill and tired she must have been that she didn’t wake up until I accidentally hit her head on the railing on the way up stairs.

“Uhg,” she grunted out in pain the sound of which tore a hole out of my soul. “Wa, what the hell, who?”

“It’s all right Katie,” I whispered to her soothingly. “I’m sorry, I was just carrying you up to our bed when I took the turn to wide and hit your head. I’m sooo sorry!”

“What are we… where’s Mary Margaret!”

“She’s fine, and still sleeping so please lower your voice. She’s waiting for us in the master bedroom; we’ll be there in a second.”

“What? Where is she who shall not be named?”

“Gone,” I said somberly as we passed the entrance to the room and I used one of my feet to quietly shut the door. I paused at the foot of the bed long enough for Katherine to get a good look at our sleeping child and she extended her uninjured arm to brush her head a little bit. Once she seemed satisfied I carried her over to the bed and gently lowered her onto the mattress careful not to snag on any of her injuries. Once settled I pulled up the sheets and blankets over her and then walked over to my side of the bed to disrobe and get inside myself.

“Thank you for getting rid of her,” she said giving me her arm to hold, leaning over being somewhat difficult in her current state.

“No need to thank me. I wanted her gone more than you did.”

“What did you do?”

“What I had to do,” I answered simply closing my eyes on the world and what I had seen the last few days.

“Thomas what happened? You just disappeared this morning. We missed you at dinner. I got your voicemail but it was vague as all hell. Where were you?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes I do! I need to know how you got her to leave, or if she is coming back.”

“She won’t be coming back, ever.” I said louder than I had intended which caused our daughter to wake up and start crying. I was up out of bed before Katie could even sit up and was by Mary’s side to see what was wrong. I had only the merest training on this issue, despite my original gender, but a quick sniff test reveled she had left me a new Christmas present so after I turned on the lights I went over to the dresser with the diaper bag and went to business.

“Does she have diaper rash?” asked Katie. “Grace said she thought she saw some developing.”

“I don’t know. What's diaper rash look like?”

“Rash like,” she said a bit uncertain. “I don’t know bring her over here for inspection. ONCE you have wiped her down”

“Aye, aye skipper,” I said saluting with my free hand. Once I was done I brought the baby over to Katie and held her under her arms while doing a complete 360 demonstration. “Pass inspection?”

“Barely,” she said readjusting herself. “Set her down in my good arm and be my spotter. I have been doing this pump to bottle to baby but I want to see if direct service is as magical as they all talk about.”

“You mean… right in front of me?”

“If I can’t do it with you, who can I do it with?”

“Point,” I agreed with her as I gently lowered my baby into her mother’s arms. As much as I wanted to look away I couldn’t stop staring. It was something that I would never experience first hand now and I was sort of saddened by the loss and even more saddened when I thought about the thousand things that could have happened to prevent me from seeing even this.

“It occurs to me Tommy,” I said taking the fingers that were sticking out of her cast while still being ready to catch Mary Margaret if something went wrong with the other arm. “It occurs to me that I never apologized. I never asked for reconciliation like a good Catholic.”

“What are you talking about? You have asked and been granted forgiveness for everything. Just like you did to me. We're past that.”

“I apologized for stealing your body, apologized for leaving you tied up in that hotel. And most of the rest… But I never did apologize for trying to kill our daughter.”

“Jess you don’t hav--”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted her as I began to cry; even if it was slightly quieter than the terrible din Mary Margaret was capable of producing. I took a moment to wipe away some tears with my arm and then had it back a few seconds later to catch her if she should happen to fall. “I’m so sorry.”

“Your apology is accepted, Thomas Ryan,” said Katie as she blinked away some moisture of her own. “On my behalf and hers, though I hope you won’t wait until she is talking herself to find out. I don’t ever want her to know about her parent's dirty little secrets.”

“Agreed.”

“Now suppose you tell me where you were today, and what you did to W.S.M. to make her go away?”

“I just,” I paused trying to decide what to tell her. “It seems odd to be asking for forgiveness while confessing another sin but I… I uh…. I blackmailed her. An affair I knew about that she didn’t know I knew. I had some evidence, it was stored on a skydrive and I printed it out for her. Explained to her that trying to contest the will under the status of poor bereaved widow wasn’t going to work. Once done I dropped her off at the airport and didn’t even let her back in the house to collect her bags.”

“And all that took you until 3AM?”

“I needed to do some thinking; time alone and all that I went for a little drive in the country. Time just got away from me.”

“And that’s it?” she asked sternly looking me hard in the eyes. “That’s all?”

“That’s all, she won’t be bothering us anymore. I doubt you will ever lay eyes on her for the rest of your life.”

“Well, I can’t say I will miss her, when she arrived I sort of went a bit off the deep end. Maybe now I can claw myself out of this funk.”

“I’ll be here to help you, for the next few days anyway.”

“Just promise me something,” she asked earnestly

“Anything,” I answered graciously while giving her a medium wattage smile.

“No more secrets between us. I sort of went a little bug house nuts when you disappeared today… nuttier anyway. I’m not sure I can handle any more drama.”

“No more secrets,” I said not allowing my smile to waver a single millimeter. “I promise.”

Authors Note:

Well here is where I decided to end it for now. I moved on to another project a week ago so there are no new parts coming, and it will be up to you fine people to see if there will be. This is an entry into the reconciliation contest and doing well in that will be a contributing factor in my decision to continue. Remember, vote early, vote often.

A couple other things have got in my way of writing for BigCloset. I got a promotion at work, yeah me, but it means I have to learn a new post and… well, actually do work at work, not writing during downtimes. I will also be moving to be closer so that’s taking my time. The other bit of good news is that I had one of my mundane stories published and am $500 richer, they gave me a wink and a nod and said if I can put out another short in the next month or so I should be able to get a spot in an upcoming issue so I am trying to pump out one of those now as well. I’m not stopping writing TG all together, it’s good for my soul and keeps me sane but “stuff” will prevent me from the output of the last few weeks, I hope you haven’t been spoiled.

I first started writing this story on August 20th and was mostly finished with it by October 3rd 130K words in six weeks is pretty good if I do say so myself. And is about the size of 3 full on Tanya Allan novels so don’t feel let down if you don’t see a new post in a few days I need some time for other projects.

Speaking of, we will have a little vote, in keeping with the spirit of election season. Just make a comment to this story with your decision and we will see what we see.

1. Should I continue this series next?
2. Should I write another story with Max?
3. Should I finish the General’s daughter?