Lincoln and Greaser along with three other club members pulled their motorcycles into Lincoln’s driveway. Once the bikes had been shut down they dismounted and stretched. “Come on in, guys, there’s beer in the refrigerator. Give me fifteen to shower and change, then we can get to the clubhouse.” They had just come back from a long weekend road trip and they’d stopped at everyone’s house so the patch holder could clean up before heading to the clubhouse to let the others know they were back. Lincoln’s house was the last stop.
Greaser and Burt followed him in and Lincoln paused as he tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. “Do you guys smell that?” He frowned and started walking toward the living room with Jackson beside him. Three steps into the room he reached up and grasped his throat and began punching his thigh.
“Hey man, you okay?” Jackson frowned and when he started to turn blue, he turned toward the kitchen and actually screamed. “GREASER!” He was helping Lincoln to the floor when Greaser, Burt, and Randy rushed in.
“What’s wrong with him?” Burt demanded.
“I don’t know, he only got this far before he grabbed his throat and started punching his thigh, then turned blue.”
“Fuck!” Greaser jumped to his feet and began pulling out drawers. He found what he was looking for ran back over and slid beside his best friend, he took a pen and jabbed it into his thigh. “Call 9-1-1! He’s going into anaphylactic shock!”
“From what?” Burt asked as he pulled his phone and dialed.
“Cats, that’s the only thing he’s allergic to.” They stayed by Lincoln’s side until the EMTs arrived. Burt said that he and Randy would go to the hospital to be with Lincoln.
“Greaser, do you think Addy could have done something?” Jackson asked.
“No, she’s allergic to them too. Not as bad as Lincoln, he smells one and it’s deadly for him. She’s allergic to both cats and dogs, but she sneezes uncontrollably. Jackson and I are going to meet you there. Lincoln mentioned something a few weeks ago about different things that have been happening. He installed a security system with cameras. I’m going to access that to see what happened when we were gone.”
“Shit,” Burt said, and hurried after the EMTs.
“Come with me,” Greaser said, and led Jackson, not only a patch holder, but also Lincoln’s lawyer to the room Lincoln had set up the security equipment. Thank god it was behind a false wall, or whoever broke in might have found it and destroyed it. “Okay, today’s Sunday, we all left from here on Thursday around ten in the morning. Let’s go back to then and start watching.”
“Won’t it be boring with all that empty footage?”
“No, he has a system that’s motion activated. So, if nothing’s moving there’s no filming.”
“Smart,” Jackson said, and saw some pads of paper, grabbed on, along with a pen, and started watching. There were the four of them getting ready for their weekend away. Once they left the next time the camera’s came to life was around 10 p.m. Friday night.
“Thank god it’s a system that if one motion sensor is triggered, all the cameras turn on,” Greaser said as they watched. Ten minutes later he swore, then pounded on the desk. “I’m going to fucking kill that skank.” They had both witnessed that the cameras picked up the woman, Steph, the one who had been stalking Lincoln ever since she ruined his marriage, and before, come to the front door with a man. The man picked the lock, then they picked up two pet carriers and entered the house.
“He doesn’t have an alarm?”
“He does, it should have gone off.” Greaser frowned. “What the fuck.” He pointed to the screen and watched as the couple opened the pet carriers, and he counted at least eight cats come out and start running around the house. At one point, Steph picked up a cat and they saw her rub it all over his pillow.
“Son of a bitch,” Jackson said. “You know how to make a copy of this? If you do, do it. I’m going to call the police and have them meet us at the hospital.” He jumped to his feet and ran out of the room.
When Greaser came out he held up a disc and listened to his friend, brother, and Lincoln’s lawyer.
“Yes, Lydia, attempted murder. How do you want to do this? You want to meet me at the hospital or the scene of the crime?” He listened, and said, “Okay, I’ll explain when you get here.” He hung up, and said to Greaser, “Detective Lydia Morris will be here in twenty minutes. What a fucking mess.” He paused, and asked, “How up to date are you on Abe’s divorce?”
“Just that something is supposed to happen soon. He didn’t get into details just said that if it worked he’d be rid of that skank for a long, long time.”
“He’s right. The detective I just called is working with us. That’s why I went with you guys this weekend. I needed to get Lincoln away to clear his head. Thanks for coming with us.”
“Not a problem, I noticed he was becoming a workaholic. It seems like that’s all he does anymore is work. If we don’t have a car we’re working on, he’s fucking cleaning. How many garages do you know that has no grease or oil spots on the floor? One weekend he even went through everyone’s toolboxes and cleaned their tools.” Greaser shook his head. They looked up when the doorbell rang.
On the way to the door, Jackson said, “You’re going to hear some important information, not to be repeated. Come into my office tomorrow and sign a non-disclosure agreement. I’ll play itlike you’ve already signed it so that if you have any questions you can ask them.” Greaser only had time to nod before the door was opened. “Lydia.”
“Jackson. What’s this about attempted murder and what the hell are you wearing?” She frowned at his leather chaps, half gloves and leather vest with his colors on his back.
Jackson grinned and turned so she could read the club name on the back.
“Holy shit, you’re a member of that club? And a lawyer, to boot?” The detective laughed. “Would never have guessed, counselor.” She looked at Greaser and her eyes about bugged out of her head when she saw him. “Who are you?”
“This is a friend of mine. He’s Lincoln Murphy’s business partner. Eric.”
Greaser and Lydia shook hands, and Jackson held his grin back when he saw their reaction to each other. He had been trying to hook her up with a friend of his for years, but she said she was too straightlaced to get involved with bikers.
