Chapter 7

"When we arrived at the scene where your son was being beaten, he told us to go away, that he had things under control. It didn't look like it to any of us, but we did back off when Shamus told us to. Under the law, we can't help anyone that doesn't want it." Shawn nodded, telling the officer who had come to talk to them about Shamus and him being beaten by a group of men that he'd paid to hurt him. Either he had, or the men had gone too far in their beating, and it cost him his life. "Once he declared that he'd had enough—to be honest with you, ma'am, we didn't think that he was going to take any more from the beating than he already had when we arrived, once he told them that he'd had enough, they took off running and never looked back. However, I want you to know that since Shamus seemed to have things in his control, we stood by in the event that things, whatever was going on, were in his control until the end. After the group left, he told us to call you first off then to call 911. We didn't quite do it that way and called for help first then you on the way to the hospital. He was talking to us when they loaded him in the ambulance."

"How long do you think this had been going on? And why do you think that he paid the men that were beating on him?" Shawn didn't ask any more questions but let Hudson do it. Her heart was still tender from the note that had been given to her after the failed surgery in an attempt to save his life. The officer said that he thought things had been going on for at least twenty or so minutes before they arrived. "Then you said you were there for the next ten minutes. In that time, he didn't ask for you to step in?"

Hudson Tucker, older brother to Ethan had shown up about the time the police had. He was an attorney for the family; he and his wife were still trying to figure out who wanted to be the stay-at-home parent, and he'd been asking the questions of the officers at the incident for the last two hours. Asked to be excused, she made her way to the kitchen when she was okayed to leave them to it. Ethan was at the hospital right now being asked similar questions about Shamus, and it was suddenly too much for her.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Nodding at Brook when she appeared in the room, she asked her when was the last time she ate anything. "There is a lot going on, and you don't want to fall ill just now. Just, even if it's only a couple of bites, please eat something."

While cookies and a few other fruits were set before her, all she could manage was to pick up a grape and play with it. She'd been called to the hospital only yesterday when she'd been notified that her son had been hurt badly and then taken to the hospital in a police cruiser to expedite his arrival.

"Do you need anything?" Shaking her head, she told Brook that she didn't. That she was just fine. "You're far from being just fine, and I think we both know that. When did they call in the police for this? I'm assuming the police are trying to cover their asses on what really happened."

Instead of saying anything, she simply handed the written note from her son that he made sure she was to get. Also, the bill for him being beaten to shit as well for the men that had done the deed for him. Five hundred dollars that was all he had charged the men for beating him to death, as it turned out. He told her that she was to pay it so that he wouldn't be beaten up again. Once was enough for him.

Brook started reading it to herself, but Shawn had a sudden thought that she might have misread something in the note, so she asked her to read it to her. After getting herself and Brook a glass of water, she waited for the other woman to start.

"Mother, you'll have to allow me into our home now, won't you? How would it look if you tossed me out of my own home when I've been beaten up? Not good at all, I'm assured of that. But you will do this for me. You'll cater to my every whim and without any kind of backtalk, either. Once I'm healed, in about a week, I would imagine, then you will never push me out of the way again." Brook looked at her. "He was a ballsy sort of shit, wasn't he?" That made her laugh. She continued reading after that.

"I have a list of rules that you'll be following. The first thing is that I want you to publicly apologize for the way that you've treated me since you've come to this area. And for sending me out of that restaurant when you knew that I wanted to speak to you. I will never forgive you for treating me less than my position as your oldest son. Secondly, you'll give me full access to all the funds. In that, I will have control over everything that you seem to be flittering away without any thought to my needs. There will be more, I'm sure. But for now, that should suffice the fact that I'm in control of you forever.

"Now, regarding that man, you claim to be married to. I'll allow that if he behaves himself. I doubt very much that he'll stay with you very long. Especially when he has no more access to my funds. But you will not have other children, especially male children, so long as I'm alive." Brook looked at her. "I take it he didn't know that you already have four children, one of them being a male." She went on with the letter then. "Nor will I allow either of you to make out a will unless I approve the wording at it. You're not going to be tossing me out again.

"I know that I keep saying that, but you have a bad habit of pushing me away. I will not have that done to me anymore. Do you understand me?" Brook looked at her and the other pages that had been given to her. "I'm wondering now if there wasn't a few screws loose in his head. I mean, demanding that you have no more children? That's none of his business."

"You should read the rest of the rules. He also tells me that I'm not going to have any money, of my money nor a credit card unless he approves the purchases. Also it will have a limit on it so that I don't go crazy and spend his money. And that if I need something, anything at all, he will make sure that I have it unless it's not something that he approves of." She laughed a little when she thought of something else. "He really thought that he could keep me under lock and key, didn't he? And apparently, Ethan and I would, too, have separate homes. So he can keep and eye on us to ensure that we weren't making other children. I never realized what a monster he was until now. I mean, I knew that he was slightly off, but this takes the cake."

"I can't get over the fact that he hired three men to beat him up so that he'd have to be taken into your home. What on earth did he think that was going to accomplish?" Shawn nodded, her heart not broken for the loss of her child but that he had thought so very little of her. "What's on the agenda now, honey? I know that you were going to have him cremated, but that's been put on hold for a while."

"They want to clear us all of the wrongdoing. I don't blame them. I think after reading this letter, most will believe that he caused this all on his own. Hudson said that he was proud of Ethan for not going ahead with the surgery. Since he died, it won't come back on him." There were other things in the letter to her too but right now she couldn't think about it. "Ethan and I are going on a trip. He won't tell me where, but I'll be happy that this is all over. It'll be something that the children will enjoy too. I think they have an idea of what is going on but they're being really supportive of us both."

"Kids are wonderful about giving comfort when you didn't know that you need any. I love those kids of yours. Oh, didn't I tell you? No one can be found for the four of them. And the one relative that might have been related to them has declined to take anyone but the baby. I'm glad that the judge made it so that they were kept together as a family." She was, as well. "As soon as it's official, I'll have the paperwork done for you so that you don't have to worry."

"Thank you for that." Shawn thought of something else. "Everyone thinks that we're married. Has that paperwork been filed as well? I hope so. I don't think that I have it in me to plan anything much more than dinner right now, and we have a cook for that." Brook told her that it was all taken care of.

By the time Ethan came home, the questions in the other room were finishing up as well. Brook left her, telling her not to skip on meals again. She didn't know what the woman would do to her if she did but she did try and eat a little more of the cheese and crackers that had been set before her.

For the rest of the evening, they hung out with the kids. They were unusually quiet tonight and seemed to know that she needed extra hugs. Even Tisha seemed to know it as well. When the pizzas that they ordered arrived, they ate them right there in the living room while watching television. The show they had on was silly, but the kids seemed to enjoy it a great deal. Shawn couldn't have said what it was about if her life depended on it. It was that stupid to her.

When the kids were ready for bed, they spent more time with them than they had before. It was nice, she thought, having little people in the house. She had been working so hard in her earlier life with Shamus that she thought perhaps that was what had made him think that everything was his. Or not. She didn't have any idea what made him the way he'd been.

Going to bed that night, she was glad for the comfort of Ethan with her. He wasn't on call for the next several days, so they were going to get up in the morning and head out. She knew that he'd been planning for the most fun that they could have, and she was looking forward to it more than anything they'd ever done.

Sleep didn't come easy for her. She knew that it was because she was feeling guilty about Shamus. Finally unable to even get her body to settle down, she decided to get up and go to her office. She had a few projects to work on and she thought that it might relax her enough to go back to bed.

By the time the sun was coming up, she'd done more than she had thought possible when she'd entered the large room. The logo and advertising campaign were finished up for Tucker Charites. She's finished making the changes that were for the Henderson fuck up and was set to email it out when the sun was just cresting over the trees.

There were other projects, smaller ones that she'd done up for the family. She had been asked to design business cards for Hudson and his wife. A logo and a menu style for Jakes Place. There were also smaller projects that she had finished up for other members of the large family.

By the time they were loaded up in the car to start their adventure, she was about as happy as she'd been in some time. Everything was going to be about her getting her life together. The children and Ethan. Whatever came, it was going to be solved then and not put off until it was too far out of hand. Also, as the saying goes, she wasn't going to sweat the small stuff as it was all small stuff.

~*~

Jack had never been to a wholesale market before but thought that it might be the place to be. There were all sorts of vendors there that he wouldn't necessarily need to purchase from for the restaurant but he still took his time having a look around. He was also glad that Denver had come with him. The two of them weren't in any kind of hurry but were there to enjoy themselves.

"Do you have any idea how many trays you're going to need?" He looked at his list, glad now that he'd made it and the sizes of things they were there to order. Denver had a list as well, he was looking for some art that would look good in the offices of the charity offices. "I've seen some of the art that's here. I like it, but I don't think that it's what I'm looking for. Over there is some pottery that they're selling. I'd like to go see what sort of art they're selling."

Along with the list of things that he wanted to purchase, they'd also been given a map when they'd signed up to come here. Each of them had a copy, and between the two of them, they had it all marked up as to where they wanted to go and which booth they had to visit. He'd even color coded his as to which were fun and which were important.

While Denver looked over the pottery, telling the man there several times that he was only browsing right now, Jack walked to the next booth. They were selling things that hotels would use. Even the little mints that were put on each pillow when the room had been cleaned.

"How much would it cost to get about a thousand of these?" The man told him that he didn't want to get that many because they might go stale if he didn't have a large use for them. "I do. However I thank you for letting me know that."

They talked about what he'd use it for and thought that he'd be able to talk some of the nearby stores to put in the mints for free. Also, since they owned several hotels in the area, well, the Fosters did, he'd ask if he could put them in there as well.

"Once you pay for the type set and the logo to be input, you won't have to do that again. Also, you might want to think about chocolates." Jack told the man that he already had some of them. "Good for you, sir. Good."

They talked a bit more and while the man was going on about specials that he was running, he reached out and got approval for the mints to be put wherever they owned a place. Excitement was surging through him because he'd only just gotten the logo and menu style from Shawn before they'd left for the week. Denver joined him just after he was signing the order form and looked about as frustrated as he was excited.

"You can't do business by annoying the person just wanting to look around." He laughed a little, loosening up his brother a little while he was at it. "I have an idea that the guy works on commission. That's why he was so pushy."

"Or, like you were, at one time, down on your luck and just wanting to make a sale." They both turned back to the other booth and decided that Denver was right. The man had on a really good suit and he had a nice watch on as well. "Could be all for show, but I don't think so."

As they went around the rest of the showing, they made up stories about the other patrons and store people as they went. He was having such a good time that when Denver said he was hungry, he realized that they'd not eaten anything since breakfast. It was fast on coming to two in the afternoon.

Lunch was a huge affair. The meal was included in their ticket price for entering the shops, and they decided that it was well worth the twenty bucks each that they'd paid. People didn't realize, of course, that they were full-grown lions and could very easily eat their weight in meat. As it was, they were just sitting at their table when a woman came up to them and asked them if they were finished.

"Actually, I don't care if you're finished. You've been lollygagging there long enough. Just move on so that I can have your table." There were plenty of empty seats and neither of them could understand why she wanted the one that they were seated at. "Are you deaf? I said that now that you're finished, get away from my table. I have very important friends coming and I will not have you sitting here doing nothing while we have to stand waiting."

Neither of them moved. Jack had suggested to Denver that they should get them something more to eat, but he told him through their link that if one of them left the table, they'd have to give it up. He looked up at the woman when she kicked his foot.

"Ma'am, I don't know what you're problem is but we were sitting here first. Not to mention, there are plenty enough empty tables around that you don't need for us to move. Unless you have a specific reason for wanting this table." She told him that she needed to be seen. That she kept this place in business because where she ate or shopped the masses did as well. "I see. So you think that you're important enough that the sun only rises and sets because of you?"

The smile that she gave him could have lit up a city block. The woman actually believed that she was the reason for the sun, and he thought that he'd have a bit of fun with her while still keeping their table.

"I'm sure that you've heard of me. My name will open doors for you and close them tight if you piss me off." She looked around and waved at a group of women. They looked confused and even turned around when they looked as if they had no idea why she was waving at them. That made the two of them laugh. "What are you still doing sitting here? Didn't I just tell you to get up and leave? My goodness, what is the world coming to when a woman can't even get a man to do her bidding. I hope that you don't try this on other women. You'll never get married if you do. Just get up."

"I'm married already, and my wife would never treat someone, a stranger, the way that you are. If you're so important, then who are you?" She sputtered around, telling Denver that he'd better know who she was. "I don't. Not any idea."

Just as Denver was ready to turn his back on the woman, one of the men that they'd been talking to came up to the table as well. He looked annoyed at the woman then he looked at him and Denver.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Tucker, Mr. Tucker. I'll take care of this for you." He looked at the woman then after letting out a long breath. "Mildred, just give it up. These nice men will have you for lunch, too, if you don't leave them alone. I've told you before that you do not have special privileges here. And you never will. We've asked you politely, several times, to vacate your booth in favor of something that will actually sell. You've been hawking your wares for fifteen years, and you've not made a single sale from here."

They had drawn quite a crowd around them. While he was embarrassed by the attention, Denver, being a bit more savvy with people, used it to his advantage. Standing up, he shook the man's hand and thanked him for recognizing him.

"It's my pleasure. We were told that you were coming by the Foster Foundation and they asked us to give you the royal treatment. This was not a part of the day, I'm ashamed to say. Mildred has been a pain in our collective bottoms for some time now. But we're more than happy to—several of the booths that are only just opening this season are because of your foundation. It's wonderful for us to see fresh blood in this type of industry. Thank you, too, for being so generous with your time to come and check things out here at our little place."

People were snickering then. Mildred, whoever she thought she was, kicked him in the foot again, cocking her head in a way that made him think she still wanted him to leave. Ignoring her for the conversation that was going on with his brother, she finally sat her purse down on the table as if she was claiming it. Again, he disregarded her.

When Mr. Pauly, he'd finally remembered the man's name, turned to leave, Denver stood up. Under her breath but loud enough for them to hear, Mildred said finally. As if them getting up was something that she had planned.

Turning her back to her, Jack stood up and smiled at the woman there with two little girls. Asking her if she wanted the table, she looked so relieved that he thought that it was well worth the hostility that he knew he was going to get from Mildred. He even went so far as to help the lady with her packages. Something in one of her bags caught his attention.

"Excuse me, miss." She smiled up at him, looking at Mildred as if she was waiting for her to cause trouble for them. "Where did you get those bags? The ones that are for reheating food? I have a restaurant that I could use them in I think. Also, I wasn't aware that you could purchase things here."

"Oh, no. I didn't…Is she all right?" He glanced in the direction of Mildred, who was still standing there waiting on the table. Telling the other woman that she was being rude, he asked her again about the bags. "I didn't buy them. Though he had enough that I think you could. No, he was giving these away."

After getting the booth number and aisle number, he and his brother walked away. He didn't want to deal with the overly rude woman anymore, so he didn't turn when she started cursing at them. Jack felt like he was on a mission, and he was ready to go.

The man, indeed, had a great many of the bags to purchase. He told him that he could take as many as he wanted for a price, and it was Denver who asked him how much he would charge for the lot. Excitedly, the man gave them a price and said he'd even box them up for them. As soon as he paid, he spoke to him about having a logo put on the next ones he purchased.

"Oh, I don't do that. This isn't my booth, actually. I'm only helping out a friend of mine who had to bail at the last minute, and if you don't open, they'll take away your vendor's spot. I have more of these at the shop. It was the only thing that I could think of to bring in here." He laughed sort of nervously. "I'll gladly sell you what I have in inventory. They are of good quality and clean. I had a restaurant myself but it went under about a year ago."

"I'm so sorry. I'm just getting mine open in a few weeks." Carl, the man in the booth, told him good luck. That he'd lost his when his wife had gotten cancer, and he needed to be home with her. "Family. It's so nice that you were able to stay home with her. I bet she appreciated that more than anything."

"She did. Thank you for that. She and I were blessed that I could take the time off and be with her. The restaurant, well, son, it just didn't feel the same without her there any longer, and that's the main reason that I closed it up. Just didn't have the heart to go anymore." They both told Carl how sorry they were again. "You've been so nice to me. Other people, sometimes, have more important things to do than to listen to an old man with woes. I'm set to auction off my home and stuff here in about a month. It'll be the most difficult thing I do besides burying my Hanna."

While the man composed himself behind his booth, he and Denver talked about the other things that were in the large space. There was service ware that was just plain white without logos. But unlike his, these did match. Mugs, glasses as well as silverware that could be stamped with his logo as well. As he began looking at the things that he could get, napkins and straws included, he loved how professional things looked. Asking Denver what he thought of his idea of using this business in a few years to get his own restaurant stamped on things for his place.

"I don't want to be a doubting Thomas here, but do you think it will make any difference to the patrons if your name is stamped all over everything? The reason that I'm asking you that isn't to talk you out of it but for you to think outside the box with your name on it. I'm not being mean, I swear, but just think of the cost it would be for you to have that professional look. Is it something that you think will improve your status as a great place to eat?" He said he didn't know, but he thought it looked great. "For you or for the people that come into the place? I think that's a legitimate question. I'm all for it if you want it. Then I'm going to tell you to go big or go home, kind of mentality here."

After speaking to Carl again, making sure that they didn't upset him, he and Denver looked at the things that they'd come here to set up. There was a great deal at the shops, too, from buttons to ballrooms. The place sold anything and everything in between.

He was still pondering the dishes and sets as they were having another meal. The place, a vendor market boosted to having over three thousand shops, and shipments could be sent out to all over the world. Right now, all he could think about was his poor feet and how stuffy it was beginning to feel once the place started to really fill up. Arriving early, as they had, was a great idea, so long as you were out of there before five o'clock. Then things got really busy.

He was no closer to a decision than he'd been before leaving the booth. It was something that he knew he could come back to, the man had given him his business card as well as a catalog of the things that he was offering from the booth. Since he was only ‘watching' the things in the booth for his friend, Carl told Jack to call and make arrangements to go to the man's own warehouse in order to be able to see the production lines and what kind of work could be done. He liked that idea much better. No pressure, Carl told him, none at all.

"Also, you come on out to my place, we'll have a couple of beers, and you can haggle me down on the prices I have set up for my restaurant equipment. I have it all, too, and receipts that go with them. Even a few of the larger items have extended warranties on them that I would be able to transfer into your name if you want it." He didn't have any warning lights go off in his head, and he told Carl that he'd do that. "I'll have my granddaughter or her mother, Harper, put on the feed bag for us. She makes a mean pot roast, and we'll talk about crappy customers and employees until our hearts are content."

"I'd like that. Very much so." After exchanging phone numbers, Jack felt like he'd made a good friend in the older gentleman. When they were finishing up on the last few booths, he and Denver felt as if they'd made a huge dent in what they'd come here to do today. It felt really good to be productive, Jake thought. Very good, indeed.