Chapter 25

In short order Nicki and Tatiana were in the hotel bar, sipping their drinks and watching the world go by outside. They were quiet, silent in each other's company, but it was a companionable silence.

It was Nicki who first broke it in a significant way.

"Called my office this evening ... told my editor I'd need more time off."

"So, what'd he say to that?"

"Said to take as much time as I needed ... isn't like I don't have the vacation built up."

"So, what's the problem?"

"You mean, other than parties unknown trying to kill my brother and his lover?"

Tatiana laughed. "Yeah, other than that little issue."

"He very subtly reminded me of stories that were on the back burner, waiting for me, stories that he wanted on his desk in a reasonable amount of time ... and I realized that I no longer give a shit."

"How so?" the older woman asked, motioning the waitress for another of the same.

"Ms. Turov-"

"Call me 'Tattie'."

"Tattie, when I came down here, I wanted to learn from my brother how to let go and be who I am and still have a life, along with my career, how to not let my job become all that I am. I mean, I've seen him ... he loves advertising ... he loves the people he works with, he loves what he does. He's in heaven when the creative juices are flowing and a brainstorming session is going on all cylinders. He's laughing and bouncing off walls and inviting everyone else to bounce off walls too, not necessarily in sync with him, but in their own patterns as well and somehow out of that divine chaos comes the campaign and then he and Karen hunker down and start shaping it, molding it, and he's like a kid building a soapbox derby car ... serious, but always with that 'Oh, this is gonna be so cool and go so fast!' glint in his eyes. And while he's at the office that process is his whole world.

"And when he walks out of the office, it's like a light switch. He leaves it behind. He used to stop for a drink or three on the way home, not to relieve the tension of the job but the tension of the freeway coming home from the job ... the job was left behind. He has a life, people he loves and who love him. I mean, I don't count the 'Angie years' ... but other than them, however great his joy in his work, it pales in comparison to the joy he takes in living his life.

"With me it was always the opposite. My job was my life ... there was nothing else for me in the world but the story I was working on, or the story I was thinking of writing after that, or the one after that. There was me and the stories and nothing was more important. I'd run on adrenaline and caffeine and sometimes other pharmaceuticals as well, whatever it took to get the story done; interviews, research, the writing, the polishing, the fact-checking, the rewrites ... and when it was all over and done with, I'd have to tranq myself just to relax, just to realize that it was over. So I'd sleep a few days and then I'd be faced with what jokingly passed for my life ... or the next story. The next story always won that showdown. I'd run back to my obsession as fast as I could and throw myself into it as hard as I could, anything to get away from the fact that I hated my life.

"So I came to visit, hoping to learn his secret ... hoping to be able to put things in perspective."

"And what's happened has done that for you, hasn't it?" Tatiana asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"Oh yeah," Nicki said, smiling ruefully, "it's been a crash course in perspective. I've realized that all my acquaintances in Atlanta, and that's pretty much all I have is acquaintances, don't equal one 'friend' ... friends like Harry and the family down here have ... friends who put their lives on hold to be there for each other," she said, arching her eyebrows at Tatiana.

The old woman laughed. "One of the advantages of bein' your own boss ... you can take time off when you want it.

"It's really no big thing, Nicki. I've known Carol for quite some time ... love her dearly. We share some very fond memories of an exceptional man. The more I see of this family that's coalescin' around her and Harry, the more I like it. Good people, all of them ... not to say they don't all have their issues, but they're good people nonetheless.

"I've secluded myself from people for far too long. At first I did it because it was convenient. I had my work, it's much easier to work at night, sleep during the day ... but all of that was an excuse in a way ... like you I was lonely and I didn't like my life. So I hid from it, hid to keep from being hurt ... and when I had the money, I started attractin' 'companions' like Peter. Useless, vain, vapid ... but the chatterin' noise they made allowed me to believe I wasn't alone. The friction of our sex lives allowed me to believe I was loved.

"And then Carol popped back into my life, draggin' along these people and I felt comfortable with them ... accepted by them ... I allowed myself to bask in the reflection of their love and pretend it was directed towards me ... and I realized that some of it, oddly enough, was. When they say that 'any friend of Carol's' thing, they really mean it. That, like Carol, they could love me just for existin', and for bein' a part of their lives. They didn't need to know me all that well, or psychoanalyze me ... they loved me because I'd never given them a reason not to. Do you have any concept how rare that is?"

"Oh yeah, got a real firm grip on it ... and got a short taste of it myself before everything went to shit."

"Well, it ain't gonna be shit forever. So, I gather you're strongly considerin' tellin' your editor to shove it up his ass and stayin' down here for awhile?"

"Awhile ... maybe a lot longer..."

Margo shuddered through another orgasm, intense and forceful, as Kelly licked and sucked her clitoris, arms wrapped around her thighs. Carol lay curled up on her side next to Margo, her mouth locked onto Margo's breast, her hands gripping her Madam's arm. Margo needed this time with her wives. No one ever needed to know how very close she'd come to losing it, how very close she'd been to giving up in the park. There were eternities of silent prayer and non-stop pleading with Harry not to leave them. Feelings she wanted to, needed to, forget because of the hopelessness and helplessness that lay beneath them.

The three women clutched at each other as though in danger of drowning, their act of love seeming more the desperate joining of people fearing death. The gentleness of their normal loving was gone, replaced by a frantic and furious passion as they writhed on the bed, taking turns being the center of attention. Their love-making seemed aimed to exhaust them, driving away their worries and fears with physical effort and sexual release.

Some time later Carol found herself on her knees, her cunt forced down upon Margo's face as she thrust into Carol with her tongue. Carol's mouth was latched on to one of Kelly's breasts as if she never intended to let go and at that moment, that wasn't far from the truth. Carol was fixated on breasts at the moment, a part of her needing the sensation of nursing at a mother's tit.

Kelly seemed to understand this instinctively.

"There, there, Baby Girl, I've got you ... it's all right, everything's gonna be just fine," she murmured to Carol softly, stroking her hair. For herself, Kelly felt that even with all the upheaval and distress and worries about Harry and to a lesser degree about all of them, she was where she'd longed to be. She was well and truly home.

Orgasms tore through Carol and she bit down on Kelly's breast, lightly bruising the skin, although Kelly was far from being able to notice. Carol had put one of her hands to use between Kelly's legs and Kelly had climaxes of her own to worry about.

After more shifting of positions, Margo found her submissive side at the beck and call of Kelly who had her by the hair and was forcing Margo's face into her cunt while Carol and Kelly kissed passionately, Carol stroking Kelly's body with her fingernails.

Through the sound baffling provided by Kelly's thighs Margo heard "That's it, eat me, bitch!" and Margo's orgasm surprised her as her inner submissive reveled in her situation. She put her hands behind her back and her feet together, as if she were bound, and savaged Kelly's clit with her tongue.

Carol, noticing her posture, got up and found some dress belts that Margo had brought from home for her suits. She used them to tie up their wife, drawing the straps good and tight and securing her well. She hauled Margo's head up by her hair and asked "Is that what you wanted, slave?"

"Yes ma'am," Margo sobbed and then Carol let her head back down to Kelly's mound. Carol crawled up in the bed and slung a leg over Kelly's belly, settling in to rub her cunt against Kelly while Kelly sucked her tits. The position was a little awkward, but Carol didn't care at the moment as Kelly was returning the favor, biting down on her nipples, creating a delightful pain that shoved her towards another orgasm.

Fervently and furiously they went at each other, tongues and fingers and hands and lips, sweat and sweeter secretions mixing to fill the air of the room with an aphrodisiac scent that only served to increase their need. Three voices, the songs of three women's passion, blended into one song...

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

"I guess ... we should ... be quieter," panted Carol. "I think the neighbors are starting to object."

The three women laughed and then returned to their loving, albeit in a quieter fashion.

Eventually the cries of passion faded and all that was left was the sweaty gliding of skin upon skin as the three tired, frightened lovers comforted each other before drifting off to sleep.

Once Niccolo Philouma got back to his hotel suite, he began to make phone calls.

Soon some of his father's most trusted men, men who might not know what was destined to happen upon Big Vic's death, but who knew how Vic felt about each of his sons and knew that even as Consigliore, Nick was no one to mess with, drifted into the suite of rooms he maintained at the Hotel Grand to keep up the illusion of the disaffected son who only returned because of his father's illness.

Nick told them what he wanted done. He didn't tell them why, and they didn't ask.

Harry Grimes swam up from the silvery surface of the sea that marked the barrier between his conscious and subconscious minds.

An emergency elsewhere on the floor had diverted the staffs' attentions and finally he was able to come to consciousness, although he was hazy and very disoriented.

When the nurse returned to her station and casually scanned the monitors, she let out a most unprofessional squeal and rushed to his room to put him back under, only to be stopped by his croaking voice.

"Please ... before you put ... me back to sleep ... please ... I have to see ... my lawyer ... call my partner ... Karen Pinard."

The nurse got the attending physician and after a short conference with Harry, Dr. Lowry did as his patient asked.

Karen had expected many things might interrupt her nights sleep; none of them were what eventually did.

"Do you think we ought to go wake up Margo and the others?" Patricia asked.

"No, Harry specifically asked that they not be disturbed ... although I think that when he's better, they're gonna kick his ass for it."

"No shit," Eddy said. "You want company?"

"No, y'all go back to sleep. Hopefully this won't take too long."

Harry was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of his actions. Dr. Lowry was standing by in case he changed his mind, and the pain slowly growing everywhere in his body was starting to make very potent arguments in favor of him giving in and letting them dope him to the gills once again.

It was taking a very conscious effort on his part not to thrash about because of the pain and he knew as soon as he did the doctor was going to fulfill his threat of putting a stop to the whole operation.

Harry continued to focus on staying still, relaxing when he could and riding the waves of pain as they continued to crescendo through his body. It seemed to help some, relegating the pain to what felt like a second level of awareness. Perhaps he was fooling himself, but if he was, Harry was content that it was hurting no one but him.

J. Noble Daggett wasn't in the business of criminal law therefore he was unused to middle of the night meetings. His daughter Mattie had been hauled out of bed as well to act as secretary and notary for the evening. He had been the Grimes family attorney for the last twenty years and Karen Pinard's attorney since she and Harry had started their company.

Now he and his daughter were being driven across the city by a madwoman, to see a man he understood to be barely alive.

"Howdy ... Daggett," Harry croaked. "Glad ... you made it ... so quick."

"Thank your partner, Harry," the old gentleman replied. "I think we broke the sound barrier coming across 38^th St. You remember my daughter, Mattie?"

"Mattie ... of course ... listen ... I don't mean ... to be inhospitable ... but I'm in a lot ... of pain ... and I won't let them ... give me anything ... until we're through."

"Of course ... now, I understand you want to change your will."

"Yes. Angie is out ... completely ... all my estate ... to be split ... evenly ... between Margo Wohler-Sapperstein ... Carol Riley ... Kelly Culberson ... and my sister ... Nicki Grimes.

"Executor ... of my estate ... to be Margo ... if not ... then Carol ... if not ... then Kelly.

"My share of ... Grimes & Pinard ... to be administered ... by Karen Pinard ... for the benefit ... of my heirs.

"You need ... anything else ... from me?"

"No Harry, just let Mattie get the blanks filled in, get it printed up, we've got witnesses aplenty here, and then you sign as best you can. Then you let them knock you out ... you look more than half-dead."

A faint hint of a smile crossed Harry's face.

"Love you too."

A few moments later the boilerplate had been adapted to fit the situation, it had been printed out on the printer they'd brought with them, Harry's signature, shaky and weak, was on the document and witnesses had signed. Mattie pulled out her notary seal and notarized it.

As Dr. Lowry gave the nod, sedative and pain medication were fed into Harry's IV and the doctor smiled with satisfaction as his patient once again slipped into unconsciousness.

"Doctor," Karen said, "please tell me my business partner isn't going to need that revised will any time soon."

Dr. Lowry looked at the stocky woman before him and smiled.

"He'll be fine, although it'll take quite awhile for him to fully recover. Now, if you'd asked me that question twelve hours ago..."

"Well then, Doctor, I'm glad as hell I didn't talk to you twelve hours ago," Karen said and then she, Mr. Daggett and his daughter headed for her car...

Nicki and Tatiana couldn't have missed Karen's sudden departure from the hotel and, once the bar closed, had decided to wait in the lobby for her.

They sat and talked quietly until Karen finally came back through at around 4 in the morning. She sat down and gave them an abbreviated version of the night's events.

"So, that's how I've spent the middle of my night, ladies. Now, if y'all don't mind, I have a warm bed and a wonderful woman to get back to. I'll talk to y'all in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan," Nicki said. "I'm headed for bed myself. What about you, Tattie?"

"I'll be lucky if my old ass stays awake long enough to make it to my room."

"Well, don't worry," Nicki replied, "I'll be with you most of the way and if you start to nod off, I'll goose you."

Tatiana Turov rose to her full height, turned and looked imperiously at Nicki over the tops of her glasses.

"I think not."

"Tattie, you can think what ever you like," Nicki said, her face wearing a grin remarkably like her brother's, "but you start to stumble, I'm-a goosin' your ass."

The three women laughed together as they headed for the elevators.

Tuesday morning dawned bright and cloudless.

Karen, after her evening's fun, had decided two very important things.

The first was that she was not going into the office until lunch at the earliest.

The second was that she was getting another room for her and Patricia, all to themselves, as soon as possible. The close proximity between her and Eddy first thing in the morning was a bad idea, in much the same way as placing two rabid wolverines in a garbage can together might be considered a 'bad idea'.

Meeting everyone but Margo for breakfast, as she was already at the clinic, Karen briefly recapped the night's occurrences.

"Before I left, Dr. Lowry told me he'd be getting a-hold of Margo at the clinic today anyway and would tell her about it then. Looks like they'll be moving Harry to a private room this afternoon, downgrading his status from 'critical' to 'serious'. They'll be tapering off the heavy-duty sedatives over the next day or two, but he'll be on pain meds and the milder stuff for awhile longer.

"Jesus ... he really looked bad last night..."

"Liz," Patricia hissed, "do you really think they need to hear that right now."

Carol looked at her and smiled. "It's okay Patricia; we do need to hear it. It'll help prepare us for seeing him ourselves. By this point I have faith that they'll keep him alive so I really don't give a shit how bad he looks. He'll be okay eventually ... although Margo told Kelly and me last night that he's going to have an interesting set of scars.

Carol laughed to herself quietly.

"What's got you chuckling, dearie?" asked Tatiana.

"Karen's warning kind of reminds me of something that happened when I was younger. When my grandfather had his first major stroke, all the grandkids were brought together and we were going to go in and see him as a group. Since I was the official underachiever of the group, I got lectured and coached and warned by every adult there about how I was not to react to the paralyzation of his face in any way. Nobody was worried about all my siblings and cousins, they weren't going to have any trouble at all with it, but me, oh, they expected me to go to pieces or freeze or something.

"So we all go trooping in ... it was a fucking disaster. Four grandkids left the room in tears, two others just stood there and cried, and the rest couldn't look him at him and just stood there looking at everything but him and said nothing.

"I sat down on the bed next to him, caressed his cheek, the side that could feel it, told him he didn't look bad at all, and that he needed to keep his hands off any cute nurses or else my grandmother was gonna put him in the hospital for something serious instead of this piddley stroke business. We sat together for about an hour, me just talking up a storm and him smiling with the side that could smile.

"I think that was when I first realized that my family had absolutely no idea how to deal with me or what to expect from me. They simply couldn't understand me ... where I was and where I was going in my life was too foreign to them. Since I didn't fit into their mold of 'right' then I had to be wrong ... defective somehow.

"It was a very alienating experience."

"Jesus, sounds like ... how old were you?" Patricia asked.

"Fifteen ... I think that was pretty much the book-end of my childhood ... after that at least I understood that my parents and I were not of the same species. They still tried to be my parents when I showed up on their 'radar', but I really didn't pay them much mind. They had nothing to say that I needed to hear.

"My grandparents, on the other hand ... any of them I'd gladly listen to for days. They never placed filters on their vision. I was their granddaughter, I was 'alright'. They might not understand where I was or what was going on in my life, but they were okay with it if it made me happy. And if it didn't make me happy, they'd offer the sage advice of changing whatever it was to something that made me happy."

"That's all the advice they gave you? They didn't try to tell you what to change about your life?" Karen said.

"Nope, they seemed to figure that I was going to have to make my own way, make my own mistakes, just like they had, just like all their kids had ... so the best and most comprehensive advice they could give me was to change whatever made me unhappy to something that made me happy.

"If I'd listened to that simple advice a bit better, my life would've been a lot better I think."

"I'm not so sure about that, darlin'," Kelly said. "Why were you in the Pearl the night you met Harry?"

"Because Rick wanted me out of the apartment ... okay, point taken ... maybe things worked out perfectly after all," Carol replied, smiling.

After breakfast Karen made her way to the office. After calling everyone together and letting them know how Harry was, she went to her office and called the realtor who was showing the house near Harry's. She and Patricia were going to go look at it later that afternoon and Karen had a feeling they'd be making an offer on it, or on another in the area, shortly thereafter.

Kelly drove to the restaurant and after explaining the situation to the owners found that they were quite willing to grant her an indefinite leave of absence, welcome back whenever she felt like returning. As she drove back to the hotel, she felt guilty about just how glad she'd been that Jess had been out on a delivery run while she was there.

For the rest of family and friends the day was passing uneventfully, their time spent in the suite, worrying and wondering when exactly they could start visiting Harry. Late in the afternoon word reached them that he could begin receiving visitors the next day.

Margo returned from the clinic hot and tired. She had barely had time to shower and get dressed when Madame Cornelius arrived. With her came a very conventionally dressed Li Kuan and the two ladies were escorted by the great hulking walls of masculinity that were Andre and Hans. After Carol made introductions, Madam Cornelius took Margo's hands in her own.

"Mrs. Grimes," the Grand Dame said, "I've come to offer my sympathies on your husband's attack. If there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to let me know. Li Kuan has offered to help punish the perpetrators, should such be possible."

With that the lovely oriental woman opened her mouth and grinned widely, her filed teeth glistening with saliva.

"While not actually a cannibal she has absolutely no compunctions about biting someone. In fact, we had a bit of trouble with a young man who broke into our house several years ago who while in the process of robbing us came across Li Kuan sleeping and decided to indulge in a little rape. He sued us and we settled out of court. Shortly thereafter we added Hans and Andre to the household not only as playmates but as security also. Settling once was expensive but I was far more concerned with the attitude of the district attorney's office. The D.A. assured me that if Li Kuan ever bit anyone like that again and charges were filed, he'd be asking for the maximum sentence possible."

The elderly woman caressed her oriental companion, her hand rising up the back of Li Kuan's leg to run along the crotch seam of her pants.

"And as I'm very fond of her that would be extremely inconvenient. Now then, as I'm of the opinion there isn't a decent restaurant to be found in this hotel, I suggest that I take all of you out to supper at the restaurant of your choice ... but as Andre and Hans haven't fed since lunch, I suggest you decide in a somewhat speedy manner or random arms and legs could be in danger."

Alvin Jones and Tom Priest had grown up in a small town not too far away from the city. They'd started out as petty thieves and vandals, gotten into drugs, worked as muscle for hire for numerous small time operators and in the final tally, spent the majority of their lives looking for that one big opportunity that would really pay off for them.

For anyone who showed half an inclination to lend either or both of them a kindly ear they'd spin out their well-rehearsed and essentially true stories of childhoods full of drunken parents, broken homes, physical and emotional abuse, mental and sexual abuse, lack of economic opportunity, absence of positive role models, victimization by authority figures, the whole sad and pathetic panorama of a white trash grand opera.

The gentlemen they were being questioned by didn't show any inclination to offer a kindly ear or any other kindly body part to them.

The call had gone out, anonymously except for his immediate underlings, from Niccolo Philouma on down through the Family organization all the way to the streets. Someone in the organization was very interested in two young men matching the rudimentary descriptions he'd gotten from Carol, scant glimpses as she'd run, one of them with a chunk bitten out of him, who'd been involved in a hit gone bad in a park at 45^th and Garwood. The figure of twenty-five thousand dollars was mentioned as a reward.

It had taken less than sixteen hours for Alvin and Tom to end up in the rough and uncaring hands of Nick's associates. And within an hour of their capture, they were being held waiting for Nick, their eyes blinded by bright lights as they sat, tied to chairs in a warehouse on the east side of town.

Nick spent his afternoon questioning the two of them, carefully, justly and fairly, as Margo had asked. The bright lights were removed and they were made comfortable. Nick dealt with them face to face, letting them know exactly who he was. He had his men bring them drinks and he kept the alcohol coming.

It took quite awhile but he managed to convince them that they were in no danger from him. He understood they were merely doing a job. That was a kind of business he could understand. Neither he nor any of his people were going to hurt either of them. They had his word of honor. They hadn't been hurt yet, just a little roughed up. All he wanted was information on why they'd done what they had.

Finally the confessions started pouring out. The two of them knew this girl, a hooker, who'd been seeing this doctor regularly and this doctor wanted a job done. He wanted to punish his cunt of a wife, and he wanted to do it by killing her two lovers. This was the big break they'd been waiting for. He was paying them a hundred thousand dollars when both the targets were dead. It was all him, his scheme, even down to the leaving of their faces completely untouched so Margo would always have a real clear picture of all she'd lost. Alvin and Tom were just doing a job, just taking advantage of the chance of a lifetime.

Mr. Philouma was very understanding.

After Nick had the information he wanted he made a short phone call.

After a wonderful meal at Mickey & Miguel's everyone was relaxing with after dinner drinks when Eddy's cell phone buzzed.

"Hello? Yes sir ... I'll be there right away ... I understand and thank you."

He closed the phone.

"Well, I need to run by the office for a bit. The boss-man has an op he wants my opinion on. Won't take me but an hour at the most. Theresa honey, would you mind catchin' a ride back to the hotel with someone?"

"I wouldn't mind at all, Edward. Be careful."

Eddy looked at her and realized she knew ... somehow she knew.

And she didn't hate him for what he was going to do.

He smiled at her and made his way out to his truck.

Nick then spent some more time talking with the two young men.

"Mr. Philouma, sir, if you don't mind me askin', how did you find us?" asked Tom.

"It was your trip to Dr. Bennett that gave us our first scent of your trail. We know all of the doctors who handle 'questionable' injuries in this town, all the back-alley types. Checking with them for someone with a chunk bitten out of his leg was easy. That gave us a starting place. From there we just followed your trail. Next time, grab your nutsack and just start calling doctors out of the phone book until you get to one that can see you that day. There are way too many doctors in town for anyone, even the cops, to question them all."

"Thank you Mr. Philouma ... we wasn't thinkin' ... and my leg hurt somethin' fierce, I couldn't walk on it, Alvin had to fuck near carry me," said Tom.

"I imagine it did, Tom, I imagine it did ... from what I hear, that guy bit a whole mouthful out of it."

"Yessir, yessir he did ... hamstringed me. Dr. Bennett said I'm gonna have to have an operation to graph muscles from somewhere else in there so I can walk right again. Until then I'm stuck with crutches and a man can't do no business if he's on crutches."

"He said 'graft', you moron, 'graft' not 'graph'," Alvin interjected, sneering at his partner.

"Whatever," Tom sneered in return, "but with what that Jew-boy paid us up front and what we'll get when you finish the damn job, I'll be able to afford to have it done."