Corinne

 

Regardless of how much it was part of the plan, it was nonetheless difficult for me to watch the man I loved being led away in handcuffs by the father whom I also loved.

 

"Are the handcuffs really necessary?" I asked.

 

"Maybe not necessary," Porter admitted. "But when you bring someone in to be an informer, the last thing you want is any appearance of chumminess. And that goes double when the informer is sleeping with the sheriff's daughter."

 

"It looks like preferential treatment?" I suggested.

 

"For sure," acknowledged Porter. "There is also the safety of the man himself to consider. If Asa comes in looking like the sheriff's best buddy, or prospective son-in-law, then how are his enemies going to react? Or his friends, for that matter. In Asa's world, the one thing you don't do is talk to the cops. If it looks like he's coming in willingly, then they'll skin him alive in jail."

 

I nodded. "I get it. Although, I don't think there's much chance of him looking like my dad's prospective son-in-law."

 

Porter shrugged. "Maybe not yet. Give it time. They're actually pretty similar people."

 

"That's what I said!"

 

"Don't tell your dad I said it," Porter said seriously.

 

"Asa wasn't that wild about me saying it either," I admitted.

 

"Another thing they have in common." Porter put his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. "It is all for the best, you know."

 

"You think?" It was hard for me to believe that now.

 

"I'm not saying it's the ideal situation," Porter hedged. "But, given the situation, this is what needs to happen. And I think it'll all work out."

 

"Based on what?"

 

Porter shrugged again. "Blind optimism? Come on, let's get you home."

 

Between us, we had decided that, while Dad took Asa to the station, Porter would take me home. It wasn't ideally what I would have wanted. Obviously I would have preferred to stand by Asa as he went through this. On the other hand, I could see an upside. Given all that I had been through in the last few days, the idea of going back home to see Risa sounded pretty good. Looking back, I wasn't even sure how many days it had been. They had all blurred into a haze of travel, talk, and sex. There had been some bad moments and some wonderful ones, and, when you put the whole thing together, it was emotionally draining.

 

# # #

 

Risa met me at the door and waved goodbye to Porter as he headed off to work, then we went inside. This time I managed to hold off from crying when unburdening myself to my sister, who simply sat and quietly listened throughout. I think I told her everything. I never felt the need to leave out anything when talking to Risa. I told her what had happened and why, I told her how I had felt, and I told her how Asa had urged me to try to better understand Dad's point of view in all this.

 

"You really love him, don't you?" Risa asked, when I was finally done.

 

"I told you that already."

 

"Yeah, but ..." Risa paused. "You know, Cor, there's love, and there's love. It's easy to fall in love with the first guy you sleep with, because he opens a whole new world to you. But this sounds a lot more like actual love. I'm sorry I didn't believe it when you first told me."

 

Leave it to Risa to apologize for something perfectly understandable. "Maybe it wasn't then," I admitted. "Or maybe I got lucky. I don't know. Seems to me like the odds of finding the person in the world who's perfect for you are pretty slim, and, yet, somehow people make it happen."

 

Risa nodded. "It's starting to sound to me like maybe you weren't the only one who got lucky."

 

I knew what she meant and looked up hopefully. "You think?" It meant a lot to me that Risa might think something good about Asa.

 

"The guy seems to have given up his whole way of life, just to please you. And maybe his freedom too."

 

I sighed. "I hope not. And that's not why he did it. Not for me. For himself. He was always a decent man. He was just a victim of circumstance."

 

"Maybe," Risa mused. "Maybe he didn't do it for you, as in, to make you happy. But I don't think he'd be doing any of this if it wasn't for you. You seem to make him want to be a better person. And that's not nothing. You've saved him from himself."

 

"Or doomed him to jail," I said ruefully

 

"Either way," Risa went on, "you've given him something special. Something that's maybe worth whatever jail time he might have to do."

 

"I haven't given him anything," I scoffed. Asa had given me so much, but what could I claim to have given him?

 

"Oh, yes, you have," Risa insisted. "In fact, I'd say that you've given him the same thing that he's given you. You've given each other yourselves back."

 

Maybe another person wouldn't have understood that, but I knew my sister and instantly knew what she was trying to tell me. I had been lost, a stranger to myself and to my family. Asa had found me and brought me home. And Risa thought that I had done the same for him. Maybe it was true. He too had been struggling to resolve who he was inside with the life he lived and the things he did. If I had been any part of helping him find a way back to the good man underneath, then I was very proud and happy.

 

"You know, I owe him a thank you, too," Risa said.

 

"You do?"

 

"For sure. Asa didn't just give you back to yourself, he gave you back to your family as well. It's great to see the Corinne I knew from when we were kids back here. I owe him big for that. And I'm sure that Dad will feel the same. Maybe when he's had a bit more of a chance to think about it."

 

We chatted a long while that morning. Although it had only been a matter of days, it felt oddly as if Risa and I had not spoken for far longer than that. Perhaps there was something in what she said. I had always felt close to Risa, but maybe a distance had developed between us these last few years, without my being aware of it. I had drifted off into my bad-girl persona, and she had not known how to address that. Now we were back as we had been, two sisters, chatting for hours about everything and nothing. We did not confine ourselves to recent events, pressing though they obviously were, but talked fashion, films, and, of course, stuff that was happening in Risa's life, too. I could be a selfish girl if I wasn’t careful, and I always had to remind myself that my sister had stuff going on as well.

 

By the time we had finished talking, or at least by the time we stopped, it was lunch time.

 

"I'll make some sandwiches," Risa volunteered.

 

"Thanks. I've just got to make a phone call, then I'll come help."

 

# # #

 

Of all the promises I had made to Asa before he was carted off in the back of my dad's car, one had been practical more than personal. Asa cared very much for the members of War Cry, and he worried about them, and, of course, about what they might do in his absence.

 

It was strange to hear someone concerned about members of a biker gang like that, and I reflected that all too often we did not see such people as people, or at least not as individuals. You saw a group like that on a street corner, and you made a whole bunch of assumptions, all of which revolved around them being 'those people.’ You didn't see them as individuals, but as types. Such people didn't have emotions, they didn't have hopes or dreams, and they certainly didn't have insecurities. I'd been every bit as guilty of this failing as anyone else, and I was grateful to Asa for opening my eyes to it. The best example was Joseph Hartman, Asa's young protégée, in whom he saw so much of himself. It was he, more than any of the others, whom Asa wanted me to check up on. It was a revelation to me to learn that an outlaw biker might be lost without his mentor, might be secretly scared of what would happen now, or might be upset at this turn of events. But Joseph was apparently a passionate person.

 

I called Joseph from my room, using the number Asa had given me. A woman answered.

 

"Joseph's phone."

 

I thought that the voice might have been Fiona's, but didn't inquire further.

 

"Hi, can I speak to Joseph, please?"

 

"Who's calling?"

 

Was she jealous of another woman getting in touch with him, or was she being properly cautious for fear of who might be calling—the police, the Mafia, who knew?

 

"It's Corinne Dugas."

 

"Miss Dugas. I can't tell you how happy we all are that you have taken an active role in our affairs. It was so dull down here, and now it seems like the shit hits the fan every time you pop up." Definitely Fiona. Even had I not recognized the voice, its general tone would have given her away.

 

"I helped you get Asa's Black Book back," I said defiantly.

 

"But it was Joseph who did the real work, wasn't it?" pointed out the voice on the other end of the line.

 

I wasn't sure what, if any, argument I had to counter that. It was hard not to see her point of view. Since my appearance on the scene, Fiona's business, and indeed her life, had been threatened by mafia thugs, and, while I thought it would be a bit much to blame me completely, there was no doubt that my influence on Asa had played a part in this outcome. However, I did not have to defend myself, as another voice, from the background, spoke.

 

"Who is it?"

 

"Doesn't matter," Fiona said dismissively.

 

"Is that my phone? They're calling me. Shouldn't I be the one who decides if they matter?"

 

"Don't make me hurt you. It's the Dugas girl."

 

"Give me the phone."

 

"Joseph ..."

 

"She might know where Asa is!"

 

"You can't trust the girl."

 

"But I can talk to her, can't I? Give me the phone, Fiona."

 

There was a long pause as Fiona was, apparently, weighing up her options.

 

"You know," said Joseph, "You can't keep it forever, so, even if you hang up, I can just call her back."

 

"I think I liked you better when you did everything I asked of you," Fiona finally said.

 

"I still do pretty much everything you ask me. Hello?" Joseph's voice was now loud from the other end of the line, as Fiona had apparently relented and surrendered the phone.

 

"Hi Joseph’, its Corinne Dugas."

 

"Is Asa with you?" I could hear the concern in the young man's voice. We're taught that there is no loyalty amongst criminals, but not only can there be loyalty, there can even be love.

 

"No. He's in jail."

 

"In jail?!"

 

"What did I say?" I heard Fiona in the background.

 

"It's not as bad as it sounds," I tried to explain.

 

"He's in jail," Joseph clarified.

 

"Yes."

 

"Well, so far it's exactly as bad as it sounds."

 

"Okay, let me bring you up to speed."

 

For obvious reasons, I didn't give Joseph Hartman the full version of events that I had given to Risa but I caught him up on the essentials.

 

"With luck, he'll be out in a day or so," I said, hopefully. "If it all goes according to plan."

 

"Okay," Joseph said. I think he was maybe a little conflicted about Asa turning informant, but also understood why, in this instance, it was best for the people whom War Cry protected. "What do we do now?"

 

"Sorry?" I hadn't expected follow-up questions.

 

"I mean War Cry," Joseph explained. "What do we do now? I mean, do we keep on as normal with protection?"

 

I hadn't realized it before, but, without Asa, War Cry could turn into a chicken without its head, running headlong around the farmyard, bumping into things. And, of course, when War Cry bumped into things, then those things stayed bumped into. They needed a leader, and while Joseph Hartman was regarded as Asa's natural successor, he was not yet up to the role as he was still insecure in his own decision-making ability. It was hardly a role I was suitable for either, but Asa had confided in me. I knew his thinking and what he was planning. At this moment, the closest they could get to an order from Asa was one from me.

 

"Absolutely," I said, with a confidence that I definitely did not feel. "With Rassi's boys hitting the streets, the local businesses need War Cry more than ever. Get out there, and be a presence. Show them that Asa being gone hasn't made any difference whatsoever."

 

"Yeah," Joseph said, clearly relieved to be receiving instructions. "Yeah. Good call."

 

"I don't know how long it will be before Asa's arrest becomes public," I said, feeling that he needed more. "But I'm guessing that a man like Rassi will have his informers, so he may already know. He's going to try to take advantage of Asa's absence to take control permanently."

 

"Not going to happen.”

 

He said it with strength and solidity. He might not have had confidence in his decision-making, but he was not going to back down from a fight. That was good to know, but, as I hung up, I could not help feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on me. Once again, I was putting the people of War Cry in danger, and the danger this time was more than just the police.