Unexpected Ride

by Rebecca Avery

  The following morning she picked up Dickie and Becca on her way to the beach house to get Greg. The happy couple was only a few years older than her but watching them together made Carla a little jealous. She’d had that kind of relationship with a man once, the only difference being that Doug had been the head of their household while in this case it seemed like Becca was in charge. The petite woman often seemed to pick up and take over where Bobby’s grandmother, Edna, left off and Dickie was content to allow it. Dickie pampered Becca almost as much as he teased and flirted with her. They were cute and sexy and immediately made Carla think of Greg Sanders and her growing feelings for him.

  “Why don’t I take the first shift driving,” Dickie offered when they pulled up in front of the house.

  Becca headed up the walk and returned a few minutes later with Greg following behind her. Once they were all situated in the car with the men up front and her and Becca riding in the backseat, they hit the highway.

  The rest of the group would be meeting up with them at a hotel halfway between Florida and New York that Carla had reserved rooms at. The others were all riding together in a van that Tommy had surprised Dana with for Christmas. The trip was long and only made longer by the tension that continued to build between her and Greg. Always building and never releasing.

  A simple look from him felt just like his mouth on the skin of her shoulder and it was slowly making her crazy. At the same time he seemed to have put some distance between them. Perhaps his sanctimonious need to always error on the side of the law had him rethinking his attraction to her after all. She might not have ever been convicted of a crime but she had in fact committed one… unknowingly… but she had. Well that was fine because, honestly, she had enough on her plate with this trip and school starting in a couple of weeks to have to worry about him anyway.

  The following morning after reaching New York they went down to the first floor to one of the hotel conference rooms for a private breakfast buffet that Cameron St. James had setup as a planning meeting. Entering the room, her eyes were immediately drawn to Lilly Jackson who looked way too good to be almost nine months pregnant. She was laughing hysterically as Chuck knelt in front of her and guided her hands to pull her shirt tight against her belly. Then Chuck sat back on his heels and, completely ignoring the frightening scowl Bobby was giving him, encouraged Bobby to stand behind Lilly and place his hands over hers. Then Chuck began to draw in his ever trusty sketchbook. Meredith stood behind him with her hand on his shoulder, watching and giggling as badly as Lilly.

  Tommy had his arm around Dana’s waist leaning her backwards while he appeared to be feeding her grapes from the long buffet table between stealing kisses. They were smiling and laughing at each other… playing.

  Off to the side Becca sat with Cameron and his assistant Daniel at a large round table talking quietly. Dickie stood behind Becca periodically running his fingers along her neck which she tried unsuccessfully to swat away. This only brought about a smile from the handsome older man.

  Just as Carla was about to find a seat somewhere and just watch the group, who apparently acted the same no matter if they were riding motorcycles around their small Florida town or about to attend the social event of the season in downtown New York City, she felt Greg approach her.

  “I find myself strangely at ease around all of them… like I’ve known them for years,” he said, stopping right next to her. “The only tension I feel in this whole room is right in this area here,” he continued, motioning the space between their two bodies. “Sadly, I am about to make that feeling worse.”

  By the time his words registered he had begun walking toward Cameron St. James. She found herself following him and only stopped when he approached the table and said, “When you have a minute Mr. St. James, I have some information on that website that I think you will want to hear before tonight.”

  Damn him! Why now? He wasn’t even being paid for this investigation and even though she had nearly begged him, he’d not let up until he had figured out all about the website and Jarrod. Had he caught Jarrod? Was he about to spill her deepest secrets to Meredith in front of the whole group? Looking around she watched as the merriment died down and the others made their way over to the large table and sat down.

  “By all means, Detective, shall we step out in the hallway?” Cameron asked, looking first at Chuck and then Becca and then finally to Greg.

  “No sense in all that, there’s no one here that won’t find out the whole story by tonight anyways so have a seat and spill it,” Chuck offered. “They’re family.”

  “The website was a scam orchestrated by a man named Jarrod Tompkins,” Greg said, sitting down at the table.

  Forcing herself to follow suit, Carla sat down at the table. Although the bigger part of her wanted to run, especially after both Meredith and Chuck recognized the name and looked at her.

  This must be what the saying meant about sticking someone’s feet to the fire because Carla felt physically sick to her stomach. Only anger ranked a close second. Why couldn’t he have waited to say something in private?

  “He managed to get a photo of Chuck and then paid another man to manipulate that photo with another photo of himself standing next to the easel,” Greg explained to the group who were now quietly listening with rapt attention. “Then he created fancy looking invitations that also contained an edited picture of Chuck, which he then gave to individuals and couples who contacted him through the website and purchased what they thought were dinner reservations and raffle tickets for one of Chuck’s paintings.”

  “I would assume that you were able to catch up to the man…” Cameron said angrily.

  “Actually no… not yet,” Greg replied. “We will though… it is only a matter of time. In fact… we think he may have come to New York hoping to sell more dinner reservations and raffle tickets to those who didn’t get an invite to the premiere.”

  “So how big of a scam are we talking about here?” Daniel asked.

  “Dinner reservations were two thousand apiece or three thousand for a couple. Each reservation came with one raffle ticket per person and extra raffle tickets could be purchased for a thousand dollars apiece,” Greg replied.

  Carla just wanted to cry but instead sat in shock over the potential amount of money involved as well as the thought that someone could do that to their own blood whether they actually knew the person personally or not. Smearing a person’s good name for her own personal gain was a thought that was just simply beyond her. How did the bastard live with himself or sleep at night?

  Having cheated maybe twenty people out of a hundred dollars twenty five years ago ensured she never missed a Sunday service and even all these years later she often prayed again for forgiveness. Jarrod Tompkins saw each person he came into contact with as a potential new mark.

  Even Chuck had once told her he wished he could tell the store clerk he had robbed at gun point how sorry he was for what he’d done. Never once had Jarrod been sorry for what he’d done… even now to his own daughter and her fiancé.

  “We were able to track down about twenty couples so far who each purchased between two and six extra raffle tickets as well. So this man has effectively conned people out of more than one hundred thousand dollars,” Greg continued. “However, I wanted to let you know before the authorities begin contacting all these people and telling them there isn’t any special dinner and no painting, because even though Chuck had nothing to do with it and knew nothing about it… he does have a record. I fear those affected by this may think he was in on the scam based on that record… and how he… looks.”

  The room grew suddenly quiet with each person lost in their own thoughts that someone had taken such horrible advantage of their friend. Most of society would think these bikers were the ones to watch out for, not a clean cut man in a business suit.

  People’s willingness to judge would possibly make Chuck a victim all over again in this and some would say he deserved it for what he’d
done in his past but not her. Carla knew him for the fun loving young man he was now.

  He had breathed life back into her household and into the very daughter whose biological father was responsible for all this. How could she possibly tell either him or her daughter that ultimately this was her fault? She couldn’t… she just couldn’t. She felt the tears spill over just as Dana handed her a Kleenex.

  “Who in the fuck would pay that kind of money just to have dinner with me?” Chuck asked. “I mean seriously… even with the chance at winning a painting… for that kind of cash they should be getting a little something, something, to go along with it.”

  Several snickers were heard around the table. Though Carla should no longer be as caught off guard by the things that came out of Chuck’s mouth by now, she was and choked out a laugh. A couple other people also laughed behind their hands.

  “Actually that’s about what the guests at the premiere paid for tickets to this event,” Cameron interjected, obviously attempting to contain a laugh.

  “Isn’t there something we can do? Those people got bent over minus some lube! Way more than I ever ripped someone off for... Maybe you can pimp me out to their families like Nathan did to me with my probation hours,” Chuck suggested to Greg. “Hell, it might take me a little while but I could probably paint them all a small painting or something.”

  “Oh no!” Cameron exclaimed. “You cannot save the world, Mr. Reynolds.”

  “I feel bad, dude!” Chuck said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Sometimes, it’s not always about money!”

  “Wait! Everyone just take a deep breath here…” Becca ordered, looking at the people gathered around the table. “What’s stopping us from going ahead and hosting this dinner and raffling off a painting? If we know who the victims are and how many tickets each person should have… Chuck can still donate a painting to be raffled off. We can all scrape together enough food and help to host a meal for all those people can’t we? Hell, Carla did it by herself!”

  “Becca’s right! We could even publicize it and state that any additional proceeds will benefit a charity and maybe even open it up to more people. Then it cuts the cost involved and makes Chuck out to be the hero in all this instead of… the alternative,” Lilly exclaimed. “Someone refuses to let me work at the shop until the baby comes and I need something to do with my time, so I can help. I used to do this kind of thing all the time.”

  “You can count us in too. Chuck and I can sit down and figure out a charity that he feels deserves whatever extra funds do come out of this and contact them,” Dana suggested, smiling at Chuck. “Maybe that will help inspire him to paint something specific for the event.”

  “I can keep track of how much extra money we bring in and the cost involved hosting the dinner,” Meredith offered.

  Carla felt overwhelmed by the women of this group who were offering their time and assistance for something that had nothing to do with them. They wouldn’t receive any benefit at all for their efforts but they did it to help a friend.

  Even though they didn’t realize this was her fault, somehow she knew it wouldn’t matter. For the first time since losing Doug she felt like she had someone… several people actually… to rely on.

  “I’d be happy to prepare most of the food. I have a friend who owns a catering business who might be willing to help us out at cost since it would be for charity,” Carla finally managed to say after absorbing the feelings of warmth and caring coming from the group.

  “I’ll talk to Sherri about bar tending for the event and maybe Tommy and Gretchen can provide the entertainment,” Lilly said. “Dickie and Bobby can work on finding a place to hold the event and setting up for it. Chuck and Tommy can help with that part too.”

  “Cameron and I will see about providing some legitimate publicity for this and perhaps something special for the victims,” Daniel offered.

  “One thing … we do this my way this time. I’m doing this whole suit and tie bullshit for you guys. This event is mine!” Chuck said with a smile.

  Chapter Eight

  Somewhere between announcing to the group about the scam, eating breakfast and listening to Dickie and the guys talking about how to raise more money for the charity to cover the money that Jarrod stole, Greg lost sight of Carla. He only looked away for a minute and by the time the guys got done discussing ideas for fattening the pot, as Dickie put it, the women were gone. Damn it!

  Greg still hadn’t actually told Carla the worst part, though she may have already figured it out. Chances were good that Jarrod would either be at the premiere or at the very least nearby.

  “Did you see where Carla went?” Greg asked Chuck.

  “They took off in a hotel van to some fancy spa. Meredith almost talked my dumbass into going along until Lilly said something about getting waxed. I’m some dumb but not plumb dumb. What’s a Brazilian Wax anyways… and ain’t that shit for chicks?” Chuck replied, looking a little confused.

  Greg didn’t really take in all that Chuck had said until he made it over to where Dickie stood to see if Becca might have told him what spa they were all going to. Stopping and then turning back to look at the young man, he couldn’t help but cringe a little bit at what Chuck would be subjected to later this evening.

  Then again, perhaps he should be more worried about what the guests at the premiere would be subjected to when they met Chuck. Some weird part of him was looking forward to the shock and awe the upper class guests were about to receive from this whole group… especially Chuck. They would get a show along with a chance to view some of the most incredible art Greg had ever seen.

  “No idea but they are getting the works, whatever that means,” Dickie replied, waving his hands as though clueless when Greg asked him about the women. “I can only guess that means it will cost a small fortune and take up most of the day.”

  That just meant that now was as good a time as any for Greg to go take care of signing the paperwork for his retirement. He’d negotiated the best deal he could get out of this whole shoulder injury, both professionally and personally.

  Though he had wanted to put in the full thirty years, he knew lots of guys opted to get out at twenty five years and some ended up on medical retirements long before that even. It didn’t make this any easier.

  Excusing himself from the group, Greg headed to the parking garage of the hotel to get Carla’s car and drove to the Sheriff’s Office one last time. Parking and heading inside he was surprised that instead of the nostalgia and disappointment he thought he would feel, he was actually excited about retirement… at least a little bit.

  Sometimes change was a good thing… right?

  Stepping inside the bullpen area, several guys he’d worked with for years smiled at him and Sergeant Miller headed over to him and held out his hand. Shaking the offered hand, Greg watched the sergeant’s face drop a little and he looked pointedly at Greg’s shoulder. Was it really that obvious… sure his grip wasn’t as good now and he had a small shake in his hand sometimes but…

  “Good to see you, Greg. You came in just to sign over that bike those boys down south are building for you, didn’t you?” Sergeant Miller teased with a laugh.

  Laughing in return, Greg replied, “Not a chance, but I did come to sign those papers that will allow you to replace me.”

  “Some things just can’t be replaced. You’re one of those things. I mean these past couple of years you have really made a name for yourself and this department. That means something to the whole office and to all of us who still work here so if you ever need anything… just give a call,” Sergeant Miller said, grasping Greg’s shoulder and guiding him towards his office.

  Realistically, being shot or at least shot at was all just part of the job, but the case against Lilly’s first husband had been a nationally televised one. That investigation and trial had been high profile and a life changing event in more ways than one. More than likely it had jump started the danger Becca had recently faced. So taking
a bullet for his sister rather than in the line of duty was somehow more fitting.

  Without that one single case there would be no custom motorcycle and no Carla Johnson.

  Greg followed the sergeant into his office and closed the door behind them. He sat down in the chair across from the man and watched as he visually inspected the differences in Greg, post gunshot wound. After shuffling through a stack of papers and finding the one he was looking for, he glanced at Greg once more before handing the packet of papers to him.

  “He’s definitely in town for your buddy’s premiere… the guys tracked him to a hotel near the gallery. I guess it goes without saying that we can’t do anything until we catch him making a sale here. Since this has now become a federal case… my hands are tied until something actually happens in my own backyard,” Sergeant Miller said.

  “You’re going to make sure the guys out there and even the Feds are ready to bring him in at the first sign though, right? That was the deal… that sorry bastard in return for me signing this,” Greg said, first indicating the guys all standing around out in the bullpen with his thumb and then waving the retirement paperwork around with his other hand.

  “Already on it… consider this as going out with a bang, Greg. I did have one last favor to ask,” Sergeant Miller said, leaning back in his chair and eyeing him thoughtfully. “Any chance you’d take Trina to that gallery thing tonight? This might just make up for the lousy birthday gift I got her last month.”

  Trina was Sergeant Miller’s little sister whom Greg had dated at one time. She’d dumped him once she realized that there wasn’t really any glitz or glamour to dating a law enforcement professional… just a lot of time alone.