Chapter Nine
Blue, her husband Pete, and Jemma were crowded around the computer in Blue’s office, frowning at the screen.
“Oh, it’s too bad,” Blue said. “I was looking forward to seeing the Winklesteins and the Ramseys this year.”
“What is it?” Clover asked, standing in the doorway. Blue looked upset, Jemma looked disgusted, and Pete looked resigned.
“Marjorie went whining and crying to the Jamboree Planning Committee and they said that unless we disown Sam and fire you, the McCoy family is no longer welcome,” Jemma said scornfully. “As if.”
“What? No, that can’t be. I don’t want to cause all of you trouble,” Clover exclaimed in dismay. “I should find another job.”
Blue shook her head. “We are not going to let them dictate how we run our business and live our lives,” she said firmly. “Besides, attending the Jamboree has its issues. They’ve got these arbitrary ideas of social status, they exclude a lot of our family’s friends, and it can be very divisive.”
“They’re a bunch of A-holes. We should have our own Jamboree,” Jemma said.
“Jemma! You’re a genius!” Clover cried out.
“I am?” Jemma looked pleased. “I mean, of course I am.”
“Really,” Clover said to Blue. “Your family is popular and has a great reputation with bears nationwide. Why not hold an alternative get-together, and invite everyone?”
“Except the people on the Jamboree planning committee. And especially Marjorie,” Jemma said, making a disgusted face.
“No, we would invite everyone,” Blue said. “It’s up to them if they want to come or not. You know what? That is a great idea. I could hold it the same weekend as the Jamboree so that everyone who isn’t invited has a place to go.” She looked considerably cheerier now. “I do love planning these events. This will be so much fun. We’ll call it the McCoy Family Jam.”
“We could let families camp out in the west part of the property,” Pete said. “We can have barbecues. It will be a much more down-home, comfortable feel than the Jamboree.”
“I can start doing the social media marketing for that too,” Clover said happily. She hated the idea of any harm coming to the McCoys because they’d been willing to hire her. “You’ll need a website for the event. Oh, and Jemma, you can help out with the youth programming.”
Jemma lit up with glee. “Yes! I already know what bands I want to invite. And we could use the camp for activities for the kids. The challenge course, the archery range, everybody will love it.”
“I’ll call the web design company,” Clover said. “Let’s get this party started!”
* * *
The exhilaration from earlier in the day had worn off and been replaced by a twisting dread. Clover had found the address of the Snakepit, and they opened at 5 p.m., so she figured that was when Sapphire would be showing up, whether she was working there or hanging out there these days.
Clover had arranged a ride home for her brother and sisters, and very reluctantly cancelled her evening “honey tasting” with Sam. And she’d refused to tell him where she was going.
If this relationship with Sam was going to progress, she needed to know why he had refused to let Jeffrey marry Sapphire. She was starting to have her suspicions. Something smelled fishy about this whole set-up.
She arrived at the Snakepit at 4:45, and it definitely lived up to its name. It was a squat, ugly concrete block building painted a brownish-crimson. The side of the building had been peppered with bullet holes, the yellowing windows were cracked, and one of them had been covered over with wooden boards that were adorned with graffiti.
She parked next to a row of motorcycles and climbed out. Did she actually want to go in there?
Glancing around the parking lot, she realized that she wouldn’t need to. Sapphire was standing with her back to Clover…passionately kissing a biker with long, greasy brown hair and a ratty beard. A jackal shifter, by the scent of him. She was holding a beer in her left hand, and had her right arm around the biker’s waist.
The biker wore a jacket that announced his allegiance to the Skullriders – the kind of gang that gave bikers a bad name. Drug running, prostitution, weapons smuggling – that was what they were known for.
“Sapphire?” Clover was boiling with fury.
Sapphire spun around with a screech of outrage and dropped her beer on the ground.
“What the hell? You’re spying on me?” she screamed.
“You’re pregnant and you’re making out with some random dude and drinking alcohol?” Clover cried out, outraged. Good God. This baby was going to be born with two heads.
“You’re pregnant? Get the fuck off me!” The biker leaped back in horror. He couldn’t have been more horrified if Clover had announced that Sapphire had highly contagious leprosy.
