The Sanders Saga

by N. C. Reed

  “I don't recall that applying to a business making a business deposit,” Clay cut him off. “And if you really want to hide it, buy gold,” he said suddenly. “Good investment right now,” he added.

  “What?” the man was suddenly not worried about banking regulations. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said,” Clay shrugged. “Gold's a good investment right now. Are we good here?” he called to the men loading his trailer.

  “One more pallet,” the foreman called as he and two assistants moved said pallet into position.

  “Thanks!” he waved, then looked back to the owner of the store.

  “What do you know?” the store owner asked quietly.

  “I know that gold is good to have,” Clay told him flatly. “And I've given you a good way to buy it, right there,” he nodded to the bag he had stopped and purchased for this very need, a cheap backpack with a small pink cat on it. He didn't recognize it, it had just been the first thing he'd found that looked like it would hold the money.

  “Now, I'm gonna need a receipt for that stuff, or a shipping manifest, or something, in case I get stopped,” he said.

  “I'll just get that for you,” the owner had dropped his objections to 'so much cash' and was now helpful. “Be just a minute.”

  “Thanks,” Clay nodded. He walked back to watch as the warehouse workers finished loading is order. When they came out of the trailer the last time he handed each a hundred-dollar bill.

  “For getting things done so quick,” he told them as he offered each the money.

  “We're not supposed to take-” the foreman began but Clay cut him off.

  “Then don't tell him,” he ordered flatly. “Take your wife out to dinner. Buy your kid a new toy. Whatever.” The men took the bills, each thanking him as they moved away to return to work, lest their boss see and be angry.

  The owner returned just then with a receipt for the entire order and a copy of the shipping manifest from the company that had manufactured the food. Clay inspected it before folding it and stuffing it inside his shirt pocket.

  “I take it we're done here?” he asked.

  “We are,” the owner nodded. “Thank you for your business,” he added.

  “Thanks for prompt service,” Clay replied as he jumped down from the dock and climbed into his truck. He pulled away, noting the man still watching his truck. Clay smirked at that and kept going. He pulled off the road as soon as he was out of sight of the warehouse, quickly pulling the stolen tag from his truck and replacing it with the real one. Next came the half-dozen magnetic bumper stickers, two of which were particularly offensive. Finally the glass adhesives in the rear window.

  Two minutes and he was back on the road, heading for Leon's apparent home away from home.

  -

  Lainie gently shook Leon's shoulder to wake him. His eyes opened at once, awake and alert.

  “Hey sugar,” she smiled at him. “I got your food. I also got you some toiletries since we're a little short on that kind of thing for the male persuasion,” she indicated the small shopping bag.

  “You're as shiny as a diamond, girl,” he smiled as he sat up. “Boy back yet?” he asked.

  “Haven't seen him,” her pony tail swished behind her as she shook her head. “I'm sure he can take care of himself.”

  “Oh I assure you he can,” Leon chuckled. “Be whoever tried to brace him I'd be more worried about. Well, that and we don't need a lot of attention drawn to us right now. Boy don't like attention anyhow, no matter what's going on.”

  “Why do you call him 'boy'?” she asked, pulling her legs under her and hugging them. “How old is he, anyway?”

  “Probably ...” Leon trailed off for a minute as he figured. “He's about twenty. . .eight, I'd imagine,” he answered finally.

  “Oh?”

  Leon fought a chuckle as the red head tried to feign disinterest.

  “It's alright girl,” he told her faintly. “He can take care of himself. He's seen more 'n any two or three I know of, to be honest.”

  “I'm sure he has, growing up out there on that farm,” she snorted, regretting it immediately as Leon's cold stare pierced her.

  “Lainie, that boy left the farm the minute he got out from high school and only a couple months ago came back,” he told her flatly. “Been half around the world killing all manner of bad people and like as not enjoying it while he did it. He's as fast a rattlesnake and twice as deadly, too. When I say he's seen some, I mean it.”

  “I didn't mean anything by it, Leon,” she promised. His eyes softened then and she fought to hide a sigh.

  “I know you didn't,” he did sigh, rubbing his eyes. “I'm tired, Pussycat, and that makes me short tempered. That's all. Don't pay me no mind,” he smiled faintly.

  “And here I thought short tempered was your natural setting,” she drawled, making him laugh.

  “You working tonight?” Leon asked as he tore into another mini-burger.

  “If you mean am I dancing, no,” she shook her head. “Got a full crew at the moment, all of them popular with the boys. We 'll be open though. Doors open at seven tonight in fact,” she added.

  “You doing all right?” Leon asked.

  “I'm good,” she smiled. “The old man that owns this place pays me pretty good,” she winked at him, eliciting a laugh from him. “And I invested the money I earned dancing pretty good, thanks to that same old man,” she added.

  “About that,” Leon started but stopped at a knocking on the door. Lainie rose and went to open it, revealing Clay standing there with two bags in hand and a backpack over his shoulder.

  “Bout time you got back,” Leon tried to growl but was just too tired.

  “Brick showed me where to park the truck so it's inside,” Clay ignored him. “That your Chevelle?” he asked Lainie.

  “Yeah. What about it, Cowboy?” she almost challenged.

  “Nice,” was all he said, nodding.

  “Thanks,” Lainie felt her face heating again and hated herself for it. She closed the office door a bit harder than she meant to, moving back to her chair as Clay sat down beside Leon.

  “Get everything?” Leon asked.

  “Had a little trouble, but I got it,” Clay nodded.

  “What was it?” Leon looked at him.

  “Believe it or not, they didn't want to take cash,” Clay laughed. “Thought I meant a bank check or something like that. Had to argue with him about it. He wanted my name, and I saw him taking down the truck's tag number and description as I left.”

  “We're a long way from home here, boy,” Leon reminded him.

  “They'll be looking for that truck a long time before they find us,” Clay chuckled. “And tomorrow I'll pull the paper off that trailer before we start home. Instead of black it 'll be white. All the offensive bumper stickers are gone, as is the tag I stole from a mall parking lot on the way over there. We 'll be okay.” He looked to Lainie suddenly, as if remembering she was there too late.

  “Hey, I'm good,” she raised a hand. “Don't make me no never mind what you boys get up to.”

  “She's okay, Clayton,” Leon told him, leaning back again. “I've known this one since she was a kitten wanting to break away from her family and do something foolish,” he chuckled and Lainie blushed brightly.

  “You ain't got to tell him that!” she scolded, crossing her arms beneath her breasts in a semi-pout.

  “Lighten up little girl,” Leon told her sternly, though with a twinkle in his eyes. “She's the granddaughter of a very old friend,” Leon told him plainly. “I've been looking after her for a long time, and when she came of age, I let her come here.”

  “Of age,” Clay's eyes narrowed at that. “You brought her here as soon as she was legal, did you?” Lainie shivered at the tone of his voice and the effect it had on the temperature around them. Suddenly she could see where Leon got his impression of his grandson.

  This was dangerous ground and Leon knew it. A minefield in his grands
on's mind and one that had to be negotiated carefully.

  “It ain't like that, Cowboy,” Lainie saved Leon from answering. Clay turned his gaze back to her.

  “Then what is it like?” he asked.

  “I was in a bad situation,” she told him. “My mother's boyfriend was handsy if you know what I mean. My mother was a meth head before it was popular so she didn't really care. My grandma tried to protect me and get custody but my mother lived in another county and her boyfriend was a snitch for the cops so the judge did what he asked. Which left me in a bad way.” She wiped a single tear from her left cheek, but didn't look away from Clay as she did so.

  “You don't have to say anything else,” Clay told her suddenly. “It wasn't about you. Not like that.” He turned back to Leon.

  “Sorry, Old Man,” was all he said.

  “My fault,” Leon surprised them both. “I know how tender a subject that can be. Anyway, when I say we can trust her, we can.”

  “Good enough,” Clay nodded, rising. “I need to find me something to eat. Where are we staying, Old Man?” he looked down at Leon.

  “We have several rooms here,” Lainie told him. “Down that hall way are four bedrooms. The one with the pink kitty on the door is mine, and the one with the J Lo poster is Brick's. The other two are empty at the moment.”

  “Thanks,” he nodded, carrying their bags that way. “Leon, you want anything while I'm out?”

  “When are you going?” Lainie surprised herself by asking.

  “Soon as I get this put away, I guess,” he shrugged. “Why?”

  “I ...I was just thinking. . .I mean if you wanted someone to help you find your way around, I could go with you. I haven't eaten either,” she added helplessly.

  “Sure,” Clay didn't make it harder on her. “I'll wait in here for you.”

  “Let me go and tell Brick I'll be late coming in. I won't be long,” she promised before heading out. Clay went and put his bag in one room and Leon's in another. They were nice, about what you would find in a hotel. A nice hotel at that. He wondered what the rooms were for but decided he didn't want to know bad enough to ask. When he made his way back to the office/lounge, Leon was waiting for him.

  “Don't trifle with her, Clayton,” he said softly. “She's tough on the outside, but brittle.”

  “She looks okay to me,” Clay shrugged.

  “That ain't what I'm talking about,” Leon growled. “I don't want you messing around with her life.”

  “How would I do that?” Clay asked, frowning. “You're the only connection between us, Old Man, and I don't expect to see her again after we roll outta here tomorrow. What are you worried about?”

  “You can't be that damn thick headed and actually be my blood descendant,” Leon all but growled. “I'm pretty sure she likes you, idiot.”

  “I like her too,” Clay nodded, still not getting it. “She seems like a good person. Had a hard way it sounded like but she's doing good for herself.”

  “Maybe you can be that completely clueless,” Leon sighed. “I mean she likes you, Clayton, you imbecile.”

  “What, you mean like. . .likes me?” Clay looked shocked. “Why in the hell would she care anything about me?” he asked.

  “You're not a bad looking kid, boy,” Leon told him. “And you're a good one, too. You didn't make nothing out of her dancing here, or running this place. Didn't look at her like she was cheap or trash. And didn't act like she was damaged when she told you about her childhood.”

  “I'm sure she is damaged, anyone would be,” Clay shrugged. “As for her running this place, dancing or whatever else, that ain't my business, Pa. I'm not exactly in any position to judge nobody else anyway,” he added with a frown.

  “She don't see that attitude much,” Leon told him. “She was running away when Marla caught her and called me. Headed up here to a life of she didn't know what. Would have ended up on the street if she was lucky. We kept her hid around for three years or so until she was old enough to come here. She waited tables, made good money. She's lived here since then, too. Safe and out of the way.” Leon shifted painfully on the sofa and Clay didn't miss the grimace, but didn't say anything.

  “After a while she wanted to dance,” he sighed. “What I meant to happen was for her to see that this life wasn't what she thought it might be. Maybe go to school. I offered to pay for it even, but she wouldn't have it. So, she learned to dance and pretty soon she was about the most popular girl in the place. When Maddie, the woman running the place back then, got ready to retire, I had her train the girl to do the books and she already knew how to tend bar, so she learned how to order stock and do all that business stuff that I can't be bothered with,” he made shooing motions with his hand.

  “After Maddie took out to Florida, I gave Lainie the reins. She has run this place and made a good life for herself doing it. She's invested everything she made above what she needed to get by on and turned a good profit on it.”

  “Might be good advice to sell that off,” Clay pointed out. “I still don't see what this has to do-” he broke off as Lainie came back inside.

  “Give me about five minutes and we can go, okay?” she asked Clay.

  “Sure,” he nodded, standing. “That 'll give me time to unhitch the trailer anyway,” he added.

  “Oh, you don't have to do that,” she told him as she headed for her room. “We'll take my car. I'll drive since I know the city better, probably.”

  “Okay,” Clay nodded, sitting back down. “Well, that will help in the morning,” he told Leon.

  “I'm going to lie down,” Leon struggled slightly to get to his feet. “I'm too old for this shit,” he grumbled. “Don't forget what I said, Clayton,” he warned. “If you don't think you can stick with her, don't start, all right?”

  “I think you're going senile on me, Pa, but I'll mind it,” Clay promised just to appease him. “Want me to check on you when I get back?” he asked.

  “I'm old, not an invalid,” Leon growled over his shoulder.

  “So that's a no, then,” Clay nodded at Leon's back, but received no further answer.

  “Yeah, that's what I thought.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  -

  “Nice car,” Clay noted again as they sat in Lainie's Chevelle.

  “Thanks,” she smiled shyly at him. “I always wanted one and worked until I had enough to buy an old one. Had it redone a bit at a time. Did the interior myself,” she motioned to the leather bucket seats and rear bench. “Stereo and seats are about the only thing not put back the way they were when she was new.”

  “Engine sounds good,” he told her. “Big block?”

  “Three ninety-six,” she grinned. “She will get up and go when I want her to. I have to be careful since all the cops recognize her now. They expect me to be speeding,” she laughed.

  “Well, car like this was meant to be driven,” Clay shrugged. “Have to expect it once in a while.” He was looking out the window and missed her studying him briefly.

  “Where do you want to eat?” she asked him.

  “Any where's fine,” he told her. “Prefer a place with beef but I ain't too hard to please.”

  “Well, that leaves a lot to choose from,” she admitted. “Steak or burger?” she asked.

  “Either,” he shrugged again. “Whatever you want is cool, seriously. I'm just hungry. I prefer to avoid Asian type foods if I can, but otherwise I'm good.”

  “So, Thai is out,” she joked.

  “I won't stop you from getting it if that's what you want,” he told her. “I can wait.”

  It was a simple thing to say, or do, and yet it was more kindness than she had known in a long time outside Leon or her grandmother. True, the other girls were nice to her but she was their boss now days. Same with Brick and everyone else that made the place work. Most men assumed that because she had danced and still did once in a while, and ran a club, she must be whore.

  The truth might have surprised them.

&nbs
p; “That's very kind of you,” she said so softly that he almost didn't hear her.

  “What?” he finally looked at her. “To wait?”

  She nodded.

  “My mamma says kindness doesn't cost anything,” he shrugged. “If you really want Thai, go get it.”

  “I don't,” she smiled slightly. “It was a joke. I don't much care for it either, to be honest. I'm pretty much a beef and potato kind of girl.”

  “Sounds like my kind o' woman,” Clay chuckled, once more speaking without thinking as he turned his gaze back outside the window.

  In the distance, he could see the high-rise buildings of Nashville, starting to light up as night finally claimed the sky. Something about the still dark buildings, their outline against a high moon maybe, reminded him just a minute of somewhere he had been before. A place of violence, where he would not have been within a thousand miles of a redhead with a hot Chevy. A place where he had-

  “-okay then?” Lainie's voice finally broke through to him and he jerked around to look at her.

  “What?” he said quickly. “What did you say?”

  “I asked if a good steak house was okay then,” she repeated slowly. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, just zoned out for a minute,” he smiled. “Mind drifting to another time. If you know a good steak place then I'm in.”

  Five minutes later she was pulling the Chevelle into the parking lot of a very ordinary looking building. While the lot wasn't full, cars were coming in at a regular rate.

  “Busy place,” he noted as she locked the doors.

  “We need to get inside and order or we'll be an hour getting our food,” she joked. He made a sweeping motion before him.

  “Lead on, dear lady,” he smiled.

  She kept her head down so he couldn't see her blushing as she walked toward the door. She had changed clothes before they left, and her clothes weren't hugging her as tight as her 'work' clothes did. She still looked good as far as Clay was concerned, but she had softened her look to go out. Smart move he decided.

  Once inside they waited less than a minute to be seated. The hostess took their drink order and promised their waiter would be along in just a minute before leaving them alone.