by Beth Flynn
“You said something about a subway?” I interjected. I was anxious to put the conversation behind me, but the subway comment had stumped me.
“Autumn called me from New York today.” She tilted her head sideways before continuing. “Her new boyfriend’s family is there, and they’re visiting. She was in the subway, and the trains were so loud I could barely hear her.”
“Autumn called you today?” I repeated.
She nodded.
“From the subway in New York City?”
“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to go there. It sounds like the most romantic place in the world. I mean, I know there’s crime, but the subways sound so cool.”
I could hear Britney still babbling to herself as I headed for the exit.
Chapter 59
Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007
I sat in my car and stared out the windshield over the steering wheel. The puzzle pieces that I’d so intricately placed together were no longer fitting. Think, Mimi.
Okay, so Autumn hadn’t been in my house. The misplaced spare keys, the empty bottles of bubble bath had all been on me. But someone had stolen that chess piece. Who? It had to be someone who’d been in our home while we were there. And it had to be the same person who’d been writing the notes. But who, other than Autumn, hated me enough to say such awful things?
Autumn certainly did, but she wasn’t even in Florida. She could’ve had an accomplice, I mused. Could the bubbly Britney have helped her? No. I couldn’t see it. And if I let myself think about it, how much animosity had Autumn really inflicted on me? Other than nasty comments and snide remarks that had always been directed at me out of earshot of others, what had she done? Did I see guilt in her expression when I’d confronted her about that first note? I couldn’t remember.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the crumpled note. I smoothed it against my steering wheel and stared at the painful words.
BARREN BITCH!!
All caps, just like before. The same handwriting. The same slant. The same colored marker. But something was wrong. What was it?
And then it hit me. Autumn had called me a bitch to my face, but she’d never implied she had any knowledge of my inability to carry a child. She had no way of knowing. And I wasn’t barren. I had ovaries. I couldn’t conceive or carry the baby in my own body. Who, other than my family, knew this?
I shook my head in an attempt to clear away the cobwebs and tried to instantaneously dredge up every conversation I’d had with every person since moving to Florida. It was too much to wrap my head around.
I needed to tell Christian. This was something I could no longer keep from him. I was driving home when I remembered it was girls’ night out at Susan’s. Christian would be at the garage with Glen. I was at a red light when the memory slammed me so hard I gasped out loud. I had told someone.
One person knew that I’d had a hysterectomy. Susan had been complaining about how much Glen’s parents were pressing them for grandchildren, even though both she and Glen had agreed before getting married that they didn’t want kids. I remembered her saying that it would be so much easier to shut them up if either her or Glen were sterile. I liked Susan, and I wasn’t offended by the comment, but I did want to offer her some words of wisdom. I didn’t go into the details of my surgery, just that it was an emergency hysterectomy, and that Christian and I wouldn’t be having children which is why we were so grateful for Abby. I kindly told her she should be glad she was able to have a baby in the event she and Glen ever changed their minds. She seemed truly mortified and wouldn’t stop apologizing.
Someone honked behind me and I proceeded through the light. How long had I been daydreaming?
But why? Why would Susan hold a grudge against me? Heck, I didn’t even know her when I got the first note.
But Christian did. He worked with Glen. What if I was targeted because of something work-related with Christian? I shook my head. That didn’t even make sense. Why would they be interested in going into business with us? Christian and I were going to front most of the money. What if they planned on somehow sabotaging the business and then finding a way to keep it for themselves?
“You watch too many crime shows,” I said out loud. “The idea is ridiculous.”
Someone stalking you is ridiculous too, but it’s happening.
Okay, so what if this isn’t business-related? After all, I’m the target. And then it occurred to me. The women Susan had tried to set Christian up with. What if this was more personal than I thought? Could she have known about me before I even met her? Was she trying to drive me away to get back at Christian for rebuffing her friends?
There was only one way to find out. I looked at my watch. I would be thirty minutes late, but girls’ night out, here I come.
Chapter 60
Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007
I stood in front of Susan and Glen’s house and pasted on a smile. I was glad I was the last one to arrive because I wanted to be the first to leave and wouldn’t have to worry about being blocked in. I knocked on the door and took a huge breath. One of the regulars opened it, and after exchanging air kisses, waved me in with an almost empty wine glass. I scanned the room and didn’t see Susan.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said to the seven pairs of eyes that greeted me. There was a round of warm smiles and hellos. “I can’t stay. I need to talk to Susan quickly though,” I hastily informed them. I waited for someone to hint at where she might be.
A brunette who was new to the group, and whose name escaped me, provided the answer. “She should be a few more minutes. She’s in the guest room helping her sister put her daughter to bed.”
I frowned. I knew Susan had a sister, and an infant niece who lived in Georgia, but I didn’t know they were visiting. Susan had recently shared with the group that her sister was a recluse who didn’t drive, and barely left her home. She wasn’t in an abusive relationship. She had a good and kind husband who did his best to encourage her to be more social.
One of the women started to offer an explanation. “We got started without Susan. We were lucky she still had book club tonight.”
Another woman lifted her glass to toast. “Both of them could use a glass of wine.” There was a murmuring of agreement from the others.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I had no clue what they were talking about.
“Susan’s sister agreed to a visit, but we all know she doesn’t drive, and she most definitely doesn’t fly. Her husband couldn’t get away from work to bring her down here so Susan drove to Georgia yesterday to get her. They left early this morning to come back, and according to Susan they spent at least five hours in bumper-to-bumper traffic.” She gestured to two of the ladies. “We offered to call off girls’ night, but Susan told us to get started without her while she helped her sister get the baby settled.”
“Oh,” I squeaked. I had seven eyewitnesses that basically told me it would’ve been impossible for Susan to be behind the note and chess piece I’d found earlier. Unless of course, she hadn’t really spent the day driving from Georgia and decided to include her phobic sister and infant niece in her plan. It sounded ludicrous even in my own head.
“Even though they’re exhausted I think Susan wants her sister to have some girlfriend interaction since she’s taking her back before we meet up again,” the brunette whispered.
“I can’t stay, but since I was nearby I wanted to say hello,” I lied. “Will you tell her for me?”
“Of course.”
“Yes.”
“We’ll miss you.”
I barely heard them as I turned around and walked out the front door.
Christian, my heart cried. I need Christian.
I robotically climbed into my car. My emotions were all over the place. None of it made any sense. Then again, maybe I’d been trying to put a puzzle together that had been missing a few pieces. I was almost at Axel’s garage and still wracking my brain for a reasonable explanation.
A million
thoughts shoved each other out of the way as they clawed to the top of my brain one at a time. Maybe Nick’s fiancée, Rachel, was behind it all. Yeah, and Jolly Roger is her happy accomplice, I inwardly sneered. Maybe Susan had someone else sending the notes and planted the chess piece. What if it was one of the women who my father had rejected for my mother? Christian might’ve casually mentioned my surgery, and it could’ve made its way around the biker gossip circle without either of us knowing. No. Christian didn’t make small talk, especially about something so personal that concerned me. What if it was one of Moe’s sisters? Except there was no explanation as to how they could possibly have known about Grizz’s daughter moving back to town or about my hysterectomy. Then again, maybe somehow they had known, and the barren comment was a stab in the dark that hit home. My head was spinning with outlandish possibilities. There were too many unknowns to pursue this on my own. I needed my husband but dreaded his reaction after finding out how long I’d kept this a secret. He would be angry with me for not coming to him immediately. And I couldn’t blame him.
I let out a wary but relieved breath when I saw his truck. Knowing that I wouldn’t have to deal with this alone lightened my predicament. I parked but didn’t leave the car right away. I took a moment to collect my thoughts. Christian would demand a succinct timeline, and I needed to make sure I could explain it properly.
Unfortunately, my brain wouldn’t cooperate. When I started remembering the circumstances surrounding the hateful messages, my mind wandered back to possible suspects, and the last note in particular. It had been so personal it could’ve only come from someone close to us. Someone who had access not only to intimate details of our life, but to that chess piece as well. Someone who might’ve been jealous of our happiness. I didn’t want to think it. God knows I didn’t mean for the name to pop into my head. But as if on cue, my phone rang. It was him. I almost didn’t answer, but curiosity got the best of me. When had he ever called me on my cell phone? I only had his number because we’d exchanged them early on, but neither of us had ever called the other. Until this moment.
“Slade?” I answered.
There were no pleasantries or small talk. I had to pull the phone away from my ear when he barked, “Mimi, where the fuck are you?!”
I stiffened at the tone in his voice. “Not that it’s any of your business, Slade, but I’m at Axel’s. I just pulled up to see Christian.”
There was a pause on his end, and he sounded like he was catching his breath. “You’re with Christian at the garage?” he panted.
“I will be in less than sixty seconds,” I practically spat.
“Why isn’t he…”
I didn’t let him get the rest of his sentence out as I disconnected the call and blocked his number. I didn’t want Slade bothering me while I explained to Christian that I had a stalker, and there was a distinct possibility that it was his older brother.
Chapter 61
Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007
I found my way into the garage and followed the sound of “The Spirit of Radio” by Rush to the area where I knew Glen and Christian were working. I didn’t see Christian and waved my arms to get Glen’s attention. He stood up and smiled. After turning down the radio he said, “What a nice surprise, Mimi.”
“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you guys but I need to talk to Christian. Is he in one of the other bays?” I absently glanced around the garage. Axel’s was a huge structure housing at least twenty separate garage bays. Some had cars, others contained motorcycles, and some were empty.
Glen shook his head slowly. “You missed him, Mimi. He left right after work.”
“Left?” I asked. “But his truck is out front.”
“He’s been taking his bike,” he said while using a rag to wipe his hands.
“Taking his motorcycle?” I was confused. That last Sunday we rode before the Thanksgiving holiday, Christian detected a problem with his bike and had left it at Axel’s. I was under the impression it wasn’t safe to drive while he waited for a hard-to-find replacement part. Taking it when? Taking it where?
“Yeah, when he leaves here at night he rides his bike home,” Glen informed me.
No, he doesn’t.
I put my hands on my hips. “You think he’s been driving his bike home when he’s finished with his overtime?”
“You mean Wednesday nights?” he asked, barely interested as he returned tools to their chest. “He canceled with me last Wednesday, and tonight.”
I felt instantly nauseous.
“Not only Wednesday nights,” I said stiffly. “Almost every night since we’ve been back from the Thanksgiving holiday.”
Glen tried to disguise his surprise, but it was of no use. It was obvious that Christian hadn’t been working overtime. And he was leaving his truck here and making Glen think he was riding his motorcycle home. He was going somewhere else on his bike, returning it back to Axel’s, getting his truck and driving that home. He must’ve gotten to work before Glen because it was obvious Glen hadn’t realized all the trouble my husband had undergone to swap out vehicles.
But why?
Only one explanation surfaced. I knew he wasn’t out joyriding. He was swapping his truck for the motorcycle behind my back for a reason. And I knew what it was. He was hanging with his old gang. Which bar, I wasn’t sure, but I would try The Alibi first. And I wouldn’t be calling him to let him know I was on my way. Besides, he hadn't answered when I called to let him know I was heading to Axel's. I gritted my teeth. This was a confrontation that needed to happen face-to-face.
I swung around and headed for the exit.
“Mimi,” Glen called out. “Hey, are you okay?”
“No, Glen. I’m not,” I growled as I slammed the door behind me.
Chapter 62
Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007
I pulled into the parking lot at The Alibi and immediately spotted Christian’s bike. The notion that I was right wasn’t as comforting as I’d hoped. I was downright miserable. I’d parked in the only spot I could find in the back with a cluster of cars. Like Christian’s, most of the bikes were parked in a long row out front. He obviously wasn't trying to hide that he was here. Then again, The Alibi was out of the way. I'd never had an occasion to drive by.
I’d been battling my inner demons since I’d left the garage, and couldn’t come up with a feasible explanation for anything that had transpired since I’d locked the door at the museum only hours before. But something deep inside told me it was all connected. I just didn’t know how. The only thing that made sense was that Christian had given me the option to walk away from the biker lifestyle, but hadn’t wanted to give it up himself. So he kept it from me. How the hateful notes and chess piece tied in remained a mystery.
I nodded at the few people who recognized and acknowledged me as I made my way to the door. Once inside, I stopped and slowly perused the room. “Tightrope” by Stevie Ray Vaughan was blaring so loudly I couldn’t hear myself think, and I wondered how people were even having conversations.
I spotted him almost immediately, and my heart sank. He was sitting at a table with his back to me. And Krystal, the waitress who’d avoided us after our first visit, was sitting on his lap. She had her arms wrapped around him, and was whispering something in his ear. Through blurred vision I noticed Debbie. She was sitting across from Christian, giving him a death stare.
It was obvious that he’d been cheating on me, and my friend hadn’t been avoiding me because we were no longer part of the biker scene. I had no doubt my husband had ordered her to stay away from me. I would’ve preferred a shotgun to the chest over what I was feeling. A mixture of anger, shame, sadness, and self-condemnation descended on me all at once. Debbie spotted me and started to rise. She was walking toward me when I turned around and headed back out to the parking lot.
Foolish, stupid, naïve, dumb. It was about the gang. It was about being Grizz’s daughter. That’s all I was to Christian. A trophy to display in front of his cr
iminal friends. He wanted it all and had manipulated me into believing he loved me since we were children. It had all worked out to his advantage. He had a mother for his child, and he was vying for the spot of club leader. And he had me over a barrel. I was stuck. All he had to do was tell Blue that Grizz was alive. Tell anyone for that matter, and my world, as well as my family’s, would disintegrate.
He had to be behind the nasty notes, the chess piece. To what end? To make me think I was crazy? Gaslight, an Alfred Hitchcock movie where the husband kept convincing his wife she was insane, came to mind.
“Mimi! Mimi!”
I heard Debbie’s boots crunching on the gravel as she ran up behind me. “Mimi, I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
“Go away, Debbie,” I said without looking at her, my car yards away.
“You just have to accept it, Mimi. It comes with the territory,” she whined.
I swung around, my fists balled so tightly I was certain my nails were drawing blood from my palms.
“I don’t have to accept anything, Debbie, and if you think you do then you aren’t half the woman I thought.”
I could tell she didn’t like that comment because she took a step back and tried to compose herself. My words must’ve raised her hackles because after a moment she thrust her chin at me and said, “You must be a lousy lay or he wouldn’t have needed to start coming back here.”
I let the comment slide and asked, “Exactly how long has he been a regular?”
“Right after Thanksgiving,” she spat. “Coming around like he owns the place. I guess you told him about Blue selling Razors and he had to come back and show his ass. Couldn’t handle the thought of someone else taking over your father’s old club.”
