Chapter 9.

Erin

After my little victory run at the shaved ice stand, I decided to head over to the local flower shop. It was a cute little shop that was decorated with all types of flowers sitting outside. I took interest in a bunch of Bermuda buttercups for Wendy when I received a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a woman smiling at me, "hi, can I help you find anything?"

"Oh no, but would you mind making a bouquet out of these for me?" I gestured over to the flowers and she nodded her head while leading me inside the shop. It wasn't busy at all so we were completely alone. The woman looked down at a sleepy Henry while she rang me up, "he's absolutely adorable, how old is he?"

"Fourteen months," I smiled down at Henry proudly, "you have any?" The woman got all excited and placed a hand on her stomach, "expecting."

"Oh, you're husband must be so happy."

"He is, he's also gotten a bit overprotective since we got the news. Sometimes I think he would pack me up with his lunch just so that he can keep an eye on me all day." I laughed along with her as we talked over nonsensical things, she was probably the only person in Charming that seemed genuinely nice.

Our conversation, however, was interrupted when we heard the bells at the door jingle from a customer stepping inside. I recognized Sherriff Roosevelt immediately, but he had his eyes set on the woman and greeted her with a kiss. When they finally broke apart Roosevelt acknowledged me, "sorry Mrs. Jackson, I just came by to check on the Mrs."

"This is your wife?"

"Yes, this is my wife Rita, Rita this is Erin Jackson."

Rita's eyebrows shot up as if she was piecing together information in her mind, "so, you're the famous FBI agent. I haven't stopped hearing about you since my husband met you at the park. What brings you to a town like this?"

"Mostly here for my boy, so technically family business."

"Tellers," Roosevelt whispered to his wife who gave a knowing expression. "I'm sorry," Rita said causing me to laugh, "can't say I've heard positive things."

"Ah, they haven't been so bad, just an adjustment for everyone."

"Well, I hope the best for you and your son," Rita said smiling as she handed me the bouquet of flowers. I was about a foot out the door before Roosevelt stopped me. He pulled me to the side and I instantly could tell that by the look on his face that there was trouble. I took a deep breath before asking a question I knew I'd regret, "something you'd like to share?"

"Do you think you could come by the station today?"

"Sherriff" I groaned

"It'd just be for a second, I'm knee-deep with this Potter guy and I just need to know where this is going."

"Potter? Like Lincoln Potter? Nick Stackhouse? Gabe Marcel? That guy?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Roosevelt was obviously confused by Potter's many aliases. "Look Roosevelt, you seem like you're trying to be a good cop. Bring justice to the people and all, but the thing about Potter is that he is always out of the loop. I'd keep your hands clean of whatever he's got going on." I attempted to go about my day but then Roosevelt stopped me again.

"Look, just come take a look and make your final decision. I think it will be in your benefit." Roosevelt was practically pleading with me and I eventually agreed hoping it would get him out of my hair.

He offered to drive me to the station himself but I insisted on just meeting him at the station. That, however, didn't stop him from driving on my tail the whole ride there. It was obvious that he was making sure that I was keeping my word, but I honestly couldn't care less about the whole thing.

When we got inside the station he lead me into a room way in the back of the station. Upon opening the door, I noticed diagrams and pictures of all the evidence that Potter was cooking up. I sucked in a breath when I saw members of Jackson's crew and himself plastered on the walls. My frustration was evident but not as much as Potters when he saw me.

"What is she doing here? This is a breach of our agreement!" Potter was hanging upside down when he saw me and flipped himself right side up. Roosevelt put up his hands, "I just needed her to look at this, this is Erin-"

"Erin Jackson, a behavioral analyst for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Was married to Denis Jackson for seven years before he was murdered by the Seattle henchman." I cringed upon hearing the name of the man who murdered my husband. The name was coined by the media of course.

"Seems like you have me all figured out," I said sarcastically.

"I'm good at reading people," Potter said matching my sarcastic tone, "but I can't seem to figure out why someone like you are in Charming talking to the Sons of Anarchy crew. But seeing that your oldest child is missing, I'm sure he's here to reconnect with his 'daddy.' You know I always found it odd that one minute Mr. Teller had a child and then he completely disappeared and ended up with you. I'm sure it's a fascinating story, do tell Erin."

In true Potter fashion, he was egging me on, trying to get anything he can out of me. "Aww Potter, I see you're still fighting to be in the loop. It must kill you that you can't know everything."

The side of Potter's mouth twitched and I smiled to myself knowing that my words got under his skin. "So, who are you trying to catch? It can't be some small motorcycle club; they aren't big enough for you. So, who is it this time? The drug lords, Foreigners, cartels?"

"I'll have you know your Child's father's club is quite the entertainment. Already, suspected of murdering Viktor Putlova and his men, quite a job for a club their size."

I tried not to let his information faze me, "Unprovoked?"

"Jackson Teller was stabbed during his time in Stockton, all roads lead to retaliation."

"That's a healthy way to settle the score," I mumbled under my breath. "So, you have anything solid or just a hunch because I know as well as you do that our lady of liberty only takes evidence."

Potter took a sip from his chocolate milk carton and looked at his work with pleasure. "I'm going to need you to sign something before I give you such delicate information."

I snorted and proceeded to walk past Potter, "like that's going to happen. I think my time is done here; you can fall on your face like you always do." The problem with Potter's game is that he always underestimates his opponent. His mistakes often led to cases that were forced closed or taken away from him by someone more capable. The only thing he was truly in power to do was manipulating members into turning on their so-called brothers to avoid doing hard time.

"Wait," Potter said stopping me. He seemed hesitant to say anything at first but his need for information was stronger, "I think the Sons of Anarchy crew are working for the Galindo Cartel. We already have eyes inside the club with Juan Ortiz, we've been able to get him to work with us."

"Work with you? Or are you going to tell me how you really got this man to turn on his club?"

"Luckily for us, Mr. Ortiz has been keeping his ancestry to himself and would do anything to hide it from the MC."

I worked long enough with the FBI to know what Potter was saying, I was just surprised that Roosevelt would sink to that level with him. "So, I'm assuming you're aware of the Galindo Cartel deal?"

Potter's whole body froze when the words left my mouth, "what are you talking about? What deal?"

I resisted the urge to laugh, "That Cartel Jackpot you think you hit, The government has been backing Galindo for a while now. They use him as a pawn to bring others down. You go to the Bureau with that and your case is just handed off as extras."

I could tell that Potter was having a hard time believing me, "Call them and ask about Romero Parada and Luis Torres, I worked with them while I was in the Bureau a while back, they eventually got promoted to the CIA," I gestured over to the kilos of cocaine that was pictured on the board. Potter rummaged in his pocket for his cellphone and immediately dialed the number. Roosevelt stood there in shock as a grown man had a toddler-like tantrum in front of him.

When Potter ended the call, he was still fuming. "Look, if you want an actual case, then I'd go look in Oakland. Damon Pope is the top gun over there and the FBI has been trying to get a hold of him for years. What you have here, well that is someone else's case," I said with a bored expression. "I'm sure you don't care about any damage you might have caused these men, but whatever promises you made to this man, I would keep them." I looked down at a picture of Otto Delaney. I'd heard about him for years, nothing in my jurisdiction, but he had made many sacrifices for his club while inside. Sacrifices that got him life in prison and then eventually the death sentence.

"Why do you care?" Potter mumbled, still stuck in his own frustration.

"Whether you like it or not, that kind of dedication is admirable. And considering how he's been treated; I think an early execution is fair." I shook my head while putting Otto's file down, I gave Roosevelt a look before leaving the room. "I think you know when to do the right thing," I was obviously referring to Ortiz. As much as I thought biker rules were silly, it was important enough to him to turn on his own club to conceal his history. Whether I agreed to it or not, wasn't the point, his secret was his and not leverage.

However, I was completely disappointed in Jax's involvement with the drugs. This man had my son around his life and didn't think twice about telling me about anything or anyone who could target my kids out of retaliation. I was so angry that I could hardly see straight. The only thing that was clear was that I had been misled into thinking that this would work. That Jax's plans for Abel mirrored mine, but how could they? When he was playing around with Cartels and heavily involved in Rico Cases. How did his life ensure the safety of my child? And until he could prove to me that he wasn't going to be involved, then Abel's safety was my responsibility...alone.