Blood in the Water (Kairos)

by Catherine Johnson

  “Sorry, Daddy.” Ashleigh would have sounded a hell of a lot more contrite if she hadn’t been overtaken by a violent fit of giggles. Paul had to stifle the grunt that threatened. Her laughter while their bodies were still joined resulted in a very peculiar sensation.

  “Yeah, yeah. Baby bird, I am goin’ for the eye bleach. Shark, see you outside in ten.” It was an order, not a suggestion. Samuel left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Shower?” Paul asked the still giggling Ashleigh.

  “Yeah, but we really do need to be quick.”

  The only balm for the disappointment of her pulling away from him, of losing that connection, was the knowledge that it wasn’t gone forever. He’d be back inside her as soon as he got the chance. They showered together after he’d made sure to lock that goddamn door. It was light and mischievous, a thousand light touches that made his soul sing a song he had never heard before, but he didn’t have time this morning to examine the lyrics. It was hard to keep it from becoming something more, but somehow they managed not to get distracted; although her body all naked and wet like that could bring a blind man to his knees.

  There were always a few clean t-shirts kept in each room. Ashleigh was drowned in the one she pulled on, while the same size garment on Paul looked like it had been shrunk in the wash. The knees of her jeans had been soaked in blood and were stiff and black, which mitigated the effect of the shower some, but even had she been so inclined, he’d have vetoed the idea of her walking out of the room in nothing but a t-shirt and her underwear. That mental image was going to cause him some discomfort today all by itself.

  Moira and Dolly were sat at the bar enjoying strong coffee, Irish by the smell. They snagged Ashleigh onto a stool, and Geoff passed Paul a cup of the good stuff. He pecked Ashleigh on the cheek before he made his way to the chapel, experiencing again that weird sense of domesticity. Just another couple heading out for their day at work, despite the fact that their ‘work’ involved dealing with the aftermath of a major shooting and that their extended family had probably been privy to their shouts of pleasure throughout the night.

  As soon as he stepped into the room Paul could see he was the last to arrive, so he pulled the heavy wooden doors shut behind him. Samuel only raised an eyebrow from his seat at the head. Paul nodded, trying and failing to look suitably contrite, and took his seat. The mood around the table was somber, in deference to the empty seats. Kong, Chiz, Dean, Tag and Sinatra were all present. Terry and Dizzy were obviously still on watch at the hospital with their fallen brothers.

  Samuel addressed the table. “Well boys, we’ve got some good news and some news I ain’t sure about yet. The good news is that Morse is out of surgery. Still critical, but as stable as he can be. He could do with some company. Chiz, I’m gonna volunteer you for that. You can rest your crutches and harass those pretty nurses. Just don’t harass ‘em so bad they stop lookin’ after our boy.” Chiz nodded to show his acceptance of his assignment. “Fletch is okay. They’ll keep him in for a day or two. It was a fair bit of blood he lost, but he’s a tough old bastard. It’ll take more’n that to see him off. He’s harassin’ the nurses just fine by himself, but drop in and see him when you get chance; just to give them poor ladies a break.”

  There was some muted laughter through the room. The air was tinged with expectation, there was more to consider than just the injured.

  Kong spoke up next, his deep voice almost echoing through the hush. “There’s no official word yet on who was behind this. CSI were out there doin’ their thing. I heard some rumblings; evidently our friend Chief Hooper is in some trouble for not closin’ the scene off.”

  “I take it we’re lookin’ at the Mexicans for this, though?” Dean asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

  “I’d say so.” Samuel replied. “Looks like the bastards want to get pesky. Tryin’ to run me off the road didn’t work, so now they’re takin’ a sledgehammer to the nut. We need eyes in the backs of our heads, boys. Keep safe. I’ve spoken with Eduardo. He knows we’re less than happy about this shittin’ on innocents in the center of our town. He’s going to push back hard for this.”

  Kong took up again. “Now, if you’re not at the hospital you’re comin’ back to the park to help folks with the clean up. People’ll be lookin’ at us for this. We need to do what we can for ‘em. And I hope you all don’t got plans for eatin’ anywhere else today. There’s a significant amount of cow left over from yesterday. Moira’s got plans for some of it; she wants to take it out to the families that suffered, so we’ll be grillin’ here all afternoon, I reckon.”

  “We got a busy day ahead of us, boys. Let’s get to it.” Samuel pushed his chair back and stood; Paul and his brothers followed their president’s lead.

  He gulped down the last of his coffee on his way out of the clubhouse. Ashleigh, Moira and Dolly had disappeared. Their cars were missing from the lot, so he could only assume that they’d already set off to do whatever it was that they would be doing for their part in the day. He didn’t like Ashleigh being out of his sight. Between Mexicans who were crazy anyway and about to be pissed off, too, and Spike’s call, he was paranoia personified, but if he was going to explain his concern to anyone he might as well do it with his own gun cocked and pressed against his temple with his finger on the trigger.

  Chapter Fifteen

  There were still a lot of people in the room, but not as many as there had been the night before. There was room to breathe. Ashleigh took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. The whiskey registered in her nasal passages about the same time it did on her tongue. It was hella strong. She hadn’t seen Geoff Irish it up that much.

  “You need it, cher, after the night you’ve had.” Her mother was looking at her from beneath one perfectly arched brow.

  Ashleigh chose to ignore her, apart from letting her blush speak for itself, and to attempt the coffee again.

  Moira continued undeterred. “We’re gonna grill up all that meat. No point it goin’ to waste. I wanna take as much as we can out to the families who were hurt yesterday. It’s the least we can do. I wanna find out what else we can do for them, too. You’re helping.”

  “Okay, but there’s somethin’ I need to take care of first.”

  “Sweetheart, catchin’ up on the beauty sleep that you so spectacularly didn’t get last night is gonna havta wait.” Dolly crooned.

  “That isn’t it, but it’s nice to know you’re concerned.”

  “Sweetheart, I think the whole clubhouse is ‘concerned’ after last night.”

  “Mama!” Whiskey-laced coffee stung a little when it came out of your nose. Who knew?

  Her mother shrugged, completely unapologetic.

  Ashleigh tried to mop up the mess she’d made with a pot towel that was doing double duty as a bar rag and aimed for defiant nonchalance. “As I seem to remember, missin’ my beauty sleep was your idea in the first place.”

  “Oh and didn’t you just go for that in spades!” Dolly cackled. “And I want details!”

  “You ain’t getting’ ‘em.”

  “Spoilsport!” Dolly actually stuck her tongue out like an eight year old.

  “I seem to remember that my idea didn’t include any strings.” That perfectly plucked eyebrow was perfectly arched again.

  “Your point bein’?” Ashleigh asked, knowing that there was a point.

  “That you two look like you’re plenty tied up.”

  “Oh, if he ties you up you have got to tell me all. Lord, to be at that boy’s mercy.” Dolly closed her eyes and shuddered her shoulders.

  Ashleigh couldn’t tell if her mother thought that being tied up with Paul, at least in the metaphorical sense, was a good thing or a bad thing, but she was so not having this conversation right now. She swallowed the rest of her coffee and stood. “I need to get outta these jeans and I got shit I need to take care of at the clinic. I’ll meet you back here in a couple of hours.”

  “Don’t be too long
. We don’t know that yesterday was a one-off, or that it was the end of whatever it was.” Moira advised.

  “Understood. If I’m goin’ to be anywhere other than home or the clinic, then I’ll let you know.”

  “Good girl.”

  Ashleigh gave both her mother and Dolly a quick kiss on their proffered cheeks and then headed out into the sunshine for her car. It was another beautiful day. It seemed to Ashleigh that it should have been thunder and lightening, or raining, or misty at the very least; something, anything in recognition of the tragedy of the day before. But the weather didn’t care.

  She took the time for another quick shower when she got back to her apartment. Wearing her blood-crusted jeans had made her feel dirty again, and she wanted to wash her hair. She didn’t have the time to dry it, so she toweled most of the drips out and wound it into a knot high on her head. She took one look at the jeans lying forlornly on her bedroom floor and decided they were a lost cause.

  She paused as she passed the long mirror she had set up to check whole outfits. She wasn’t one for standing and staring at herself, and she certainly didn’t have the time now, but the smudges of blue had caught her eye. There were fingertip sized bruises arrayed on various places on her body, mostly grouped around specific areas like her hips. There were a few bite marks, particularly around her shoulders, neck and breasts, that she hadn’t noticed that morning.

  She wasn’t sure whether the powerfully savage bout of sex the night before or the slow, tantric sex of the morning had affected her more. What she did know was that she was maybe feeling a little bruised somewhere inside. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it kinda felt like Paul was still inside her, especially when she moved a certain way. When she felt that twitch down low, she blanked out for a second or two, remembering a look, or a touch, or just the way his skin smelled up close. And holy fuck, that dream had been intense. She’d felt so safe and loved in it, like the saber-tooth tiger could sit outside the cave a while longer. It had been so realistic that she was beginning to wonder whether or not it had been a dream or whether it had actually happened. If it had, there were some concerns she might need to address, but she shelved that brief worry because she had shit to do.

  Having figured out which parts of her body it would probably be best to cover, Ashleigh dressed and drove over to the clinic. It was Sunday, so there was only one nurse in to keep an eye on the animals in the shelter and any overnighters that they had. It was scheduled to be Rachel. Ashleigh thought that she might have phoned in sick, but she followed the sound of puppy yips and found Rachel in the staffroom playing with the five remaining Cavalier puppies. The puppies were enjoying their illicit moments of freedom and making a hell of a mess.

  “Heya. I’ll clean all this up. I promise. The little guys just seemed so bored.”

  Ashleigh picked up one of the tumbling little bundles and gave it a look over. “They seem fine. It’ll do them good. And don’t worry, puppy eyes are my kryptonite too. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, still a little shook up, I guess. I heard about... the ones... well.” Rachel gulped and stared off into space for a moment.

  “It’s okay. And it’s alright to feel, I don’t know, relieved I guess. I know I do.”

  Rachel nodded. “I feel bad for feelin’ good that I’m okay. I feel like I should feel worse.”

  “Me too. I think that’s normal.”

  “There’s a vigil tonight, at First Baptist. You goin’?”

  “I don’t know. I would, but I don’t fancy bein’ chased with torches and pitchforks, and I’ve got a feeling that’s what’ll happen.”

  Rachel was silent a while and then her brow creased with concern. “Those people were tryin’ to hurt the club? Tryin’ to hurt your family?”

  “Probably. Don’t think they were after anyone else in town.”

  “Jesus! Do you think they’ll come back?”

  Ashleigh wasn’t sure what to say. In all honesty, she didn’t know what the truthful answer was, but she didn’t want to scare Rachel more than she’d been already. “I doubt it.”

  Rachel picked up one of the puppies and scratched it behind the ears. She didn’t look up. Ashleigh wasn’t sure whether the conversation had been ended or if Rachel had just spaced out again.

  “I, er, I’m goin’ down to the mortuary. I’ll take care of the little guy from yesterday, then I’ll be out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Rachel mumbled without looking up from the puppy.

  Ashleigh wasn’t sure if her colleague had just joined the torch and pitchfork brigade or if she was just struggling with the trauma and the shock, and she wasn’t sure which option to hope for. She left Rachel to the puppies and made her way to the far end of the building, to the mortuary room. She collected the body of the unfortunate puppy and took it into the anteroom that held the crematorium. It didn’t take long to cremate the tiny remains.

  Ashleigh collected the ashes and took them outside and around the back of the building to the Garden of Remembrance that the clinic maintained as a place to scatter the ashes of beloved pets that the owners didn’t want to take home or make alternative arrangements for. ‘Garden’ was stretching it, really; there was a lot of decorative gravel, slate and feature stones, the actual planting was confined to small areas since the high levels of phosphorus weren’t conducive to healthy plants. Usually they spread the ashes evenly, but Ashleigh tipped the small pile of gritty dust mostly around one feature, a piece of gold-specked granite that had been polished into a smooth ball. She didn’t know why exactly, but she wanted to remember where the little pup was, she felt instinctively that he should have his own little marker.

  Feeling maudlin and not a little unnerved, Ashleigh hurried back to her car. She wanted to be back at the club, with her mother and Dolly, and eventually Paul and the rest of the men. She wanted to be doing something that felt like helping, and she felt exposed and vulnerable alone in the quiet morning. That feeling only increased when she rounded the corner of the building and found Chief Hooper leaning against her car.

  “Mornin’, Miss Ashleigh.” He tipped an imaginary hat to her.

  “Mornin’, Chief. Can I help you?” She didn’t like that he was waiting for her, but her daddy had always taught her to start off polite around the law and if that didn’t work go straight to silent.

  “I was just checkin’ you were alright after yesterday. Folks at the hospital said you saved the lives of a couple of your boys.”

  “I did what I could. Fortunately gunshot wounds aren’t my specialty. If they’d have wanted their teeth grindin’ or needed neuterin’ I’d’ve been a lot more use.”

  “Well I find it pretty impressive all the same.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. The sense of disquiet that had been with Ashleigh for most of the morning grew.

  “Thank you. I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to be gettin’ back. There’s a few people waitin’ on me.” She jingled her keys in her hand to emphasize her hurry.

  “Would Paul Reardon be one of those people, Miss Ashleigh? I gotta say; you were lookin’ awful cozy with the new boy yesterday. I been readin’ his file. Interestin’ set of notes on that boy.”

  Ice shot the length of Ashleigh’s spine. She’d known that the Chief must have had an ulterior motive for wanting to see her, but why was he specifically interested in Paul? “I really do need to be leavin’; I’ve got a lot to do today.”

  “Well, I won’t keep you, then. Good day to you, Miss Ashleigh.” The Chief pushed away from her car and started to amble over to his own vehicle. After a few steps he paused and turned. “You keep safe, you hear? Wouldn’t want you in the wrong place at the wrong time again would we?”

  Something in his tone caused the ice in her spine to rush out to fill all her limbs. She was leaden for a heartbeat, then her fight or flight response kicked in, with the ‘flight’ option turned up to full power. She wouldn’t run, she didn’t want the Chief to see how badly scared she was, but she
hurried into her car and got it moving as soon as she could without coating the tarmac with rubber.

  When she pulled up at the clubhouse she intended to find someone, her father or Paul, and tell them about the strange conversation with the Chief. The fact that Hooper had sought her out, even if it would have been for something completely innocuous, would be something that her father would want to know about. But the moment she stepped out of her car her mother instructed her to collect a pile of tin foil-wrapped packages from the side of the smoking coals that Kong was lording over. As soon as Moira’s car was as full as it could be of cooked meat, with barely enough room for her, Ashleigh and Dolly, Moira was driving them to St. Raphael’s to supplement Fletch’s diet of hospital food with steak and burgers and then onto the numerous houses of the families that were bearing the brunt of the attack.

  By the time they returned to the clubhouse, Ashleigh’s head was so full of grief, regret and, in some cases, outright hate that she had completely forgotten about the Chief. The grill was still smoldering, but it looked as though Kong had worked through the small mountain of meat. It was a characteristically warm night, and people, drawn outside by the food, were lingering in the balmy air.