Authors: Kathryn Ascher
“So, which one of you is going to tell me what happened?” Kelsey asked.
“I told you, it’s no big deal,” Janelle muttered.
Veronica made a very unladylike snort and Janelle glared at her. Veronica relaxed
into the chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Sorry,” she said quietly.
Kelsey raised an eyebrow at her sister.
“You sure are being nosy,” Janelle snapped as she stood and walked to the wall beside
the bed. She turned and pressed her shoulders to the wall as she glared at Kelsey.
“Well, if that asshole hadn’t shot me before he died, I could have gone with you
to his funeral and seen it all firsthand.” Kelsey pushed herself higher in the bed
and Janelle saw her flinch. “As it is, I’ve been worried sick that Mom would do something
stupid, which she apparently did, and I would like to know what it was.”
Janelle sighed. “It wasn’t just Mom. Martha stopped me at the door of the chapel
and started yelling at me.”
“I’ve never liked Martha,” Kelsey said as she wrinkled her nose.
“Well, today she had a good reason to be irritating.” Janelle wasn’t sure why she
felt the need to defend Martha’s actions.
“Irritating is one thing, J,” Kelsey argued. “That woman is downright rude. Most
of the time.”
Janelle pressed her lips together in a frown. “And then Gladys joined her and cussed
me out.”
“After she slapped you,” Veronica added and Janelle glared at her. Veronica simply
shrugged and looked away.
“The old woman hit you?” Kelsey asked, her tone dripping with disbelief. “In front
of everyone? What did she say?”
“Pretty much,” Janelle answered the first question with a nod. “She called me a whore
and said that if I’d been a better wife to him then maybe Richard would have been
a better husband to me.”
“You did nothing to deserve the kind of treatment you got from him,”
Kelsey said,
her eyes filled with sadness. “No woman ever deserves that kind of mental, emotional,
and physical abuse, Janelle.”
Janelle smiled weakly as she walked back to the bed and sat on the edge. She took
Kelsey’s hand and squeezed it.
“I get why Martha and Gladys were so vicious. I don’t agree with them, but I get
it.” Veronica stared curiously at the sisters. “What I don’t understand is your mother’s
reaction.”
Janelle frowned as she shrugged. “Our mother was raised to believe that keeping a
husband happy was a wife’s top priority. She tried to raise us to think the same,
but there was a big difference.”
“Our father was nothing like our grandfather,” Kelsey added. “Mom’s dad was an abusive
alcoholic, much like Richard, but her mother tolerated it and did everything in her
power to keep the peace at home. Mom grew up thinking that, if her father was happy,
he wouldn’t hit her mother.”
“Of course, that theory didn’t work all the time,” Janelle continued. As a child,
she could remember seeing bruises on her grandmother’s face or arms when they would
visit. It wasn’t until she was older that she understood where she’d gotten those
bruises, and why George was always hesitant to let his daughters visit their grandmother.
“And, like Kelsey said, our father wasn’t like our grandfather, so even though Mom
utilized the lessons she’d learned, her situation was never the same. She didn’t
need to treat our father the same way, but that didn’t stop her from trying to teach
Kelsey and me to do things her way.”
“The sad truth is, we both tried it,” Kelsey confessed softly as she cast a glance
at Patrick. She turned to Janelle and the corner of her lips lifted. “But I think
we’ve both learned better.”
“Definitely,” Janelle agreed and hoped she was being honest, for the sake of her
children as well as her sanity.
Veronica pursed her lips as she looked down at the floor, and they remained silent.
After a few moments, Kelsey finally asked, “Dare I ask how our mother contributed
to this scene?”
“She certainly didn’t show her support for me.” Janelle dropped Kelsey’s hand and
folded her own in her lap. “She agreed with Gladys and told me I
should leave, that
the funeral was only for people who actually cared about Richard while he was alive.”
Kelsey’s jaw fell open as her eyes widened. “Where was Dad?”
“He wasn’t there.” Janelle shook her head. “He told me he wasn’t going and that neither
should I.” George Morgan had been almost adamant in the fact that Janelle didn’t
need to, and probably should not, go to Richard’s funeral. That if she went, she
would most likely have to face people and their judgment and it would do her more
harm than good. Janelle wished now that she had listened.
Patrick joined them and took his place beside the head of Kelsey’s bed and looked
directly at Janelle. Slowly, Kelsey turned to look at him.
“Did you talk to him?” Kelsey asked, and Patrick nodded as he looked at her. “What
did he say?”
Patrick pressed his lips firmly together and frowned at Janelle. “He’s been pulled
from the investigation.”
“Why?” Kelsey asked.
“Because of me,” Janelle said quietly and looked at Patrick. “Right?”
“Well, because of the affair, his captain feels he’s too close to the case.” Patrick
gave Janelle a pitying smile. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Kelsey sat up and glared at Patrick. “That’s ridiculous. There’s no reason
for Nathan to be shady about anything. Richard killed himself in the struggle with
you.” Kelsey choked on the last words and Janelle watched Patrick place a gentle
kiss on her sister’s forehead.
“We all know that, Kelsey, but the police department has to cover all bases. They
have to protect themselves from anyone crying foul.” Patrick took Kelsey’s hand in
his and stared into her eyes.
Janelle started to feel uncomfortable witnessing the intimacy between the two of
them. She stood and walked to the wall at the foot of the bed and leaned her back
against it. She hated the idea that her actions from over three years ago were having
such an impact now.
Patrick sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Janelle. “But I’m afraid there’s
more.”
Janelle watched the steady look in his eyes cloud and knew this wasn’t going to be
good. She inhaled deeply. “What is it?” she reluctantly asked.
Patrick’s face tightened as if he wasn’t happy to share the news with her. “He’s
been suspended from the force.”
“What?” Kelsey exclaimed as Janelle closed her eyes and her knees went weak.
“They are investigating his more recent behavior—using the police car to watch your
house and whether or not he did that during his on-duty hours, among other things.
As much as I appreciate that he did keep an eye on you guys and the kids, he apparently
wasn’t doing it according to police protocol,” Patrick finished and a hush fell in
the room.
Janelle’s chin dropped slowly to her chest. This was all her fault. She’d ruined
Nathan’s life. It hadn’t been enough that she’d kept his daughter from him, now she’d
probably cost him his career as well. It was no wonder he wouldn’t speak to her.
She could have apologized profusely and tried to explain her reasons to him until
she was blue in the face, and she’d felt pretty sure that he would have eventually
forgiven her for not telling him about Zoe. But she had no idea how she could make
this up to him now.
“J, are you okay?”
Janelle’s head snapped up as her eyes popped open and she met Kelsey’s concerned
stare.
With a casual shrug, Janelle replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.” She quickly looked away from
her sister and turned her gaze to Veronica. “We should probably go.”
“Of course,” Veronica said as she rose from the chair. “We wouldn’t want Grayson
to teach the kids too many bad habits.”
“Grayson’s with the kids?” Patrick questioned with a laugh. Veronica nodded, a small
smile on her lips, and Kelsey groaned.
“We’ll be by tomorrow morning before we leave.” Veronica gave Kelsey a hug. “You’d
better heal quickly.”
“I’ll do my best.” Kelsey grinned at her friend as they separated.
Janelle walked over to her sister and gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“See you soon.”
Kelsey gripped Janelle’s hand and Janelle tried to pull away. “Are you sure you’re
okay?”
Janelle thought about her sister’s question for a moment then looked her
squarely
in the eyes. “Nothing about this is okay, so I’m as good as I can be.” She slowly
withdrew her hand, glanced at Patrick, then turned and left the room.
Janelle walked into the darkened chapel, the only light emanating from the two seven-candle
candelabras at the head and food of the casket in the front of the room. Slowly,
she approached the body of her husband. When she reached him, she gasped sharply
and covered her mouth. Lying in front of her was not the man he was when he died,
but the man he was when they first married.
Gone were the sunken cheeks, replaced with a youthful fullness. The dark-rimmed eyes
had disappeared, giving him a well-rested appearance. The wrinkles in his forehead
and around his mouth were smoothed out. His thinning gray hair was once again brown
and wavy. Her chest tightened as she reached out to touch his once familiar face.
Richard’s clear blue eyes popped open, and he stared right at her.
She choked on a scream as she stumbled two steps backward, drawing her hand to her
chest. She watched in horror as he sat up in the casket then slowly began to climb
out, holding her gaze the entire time. A menacing smirk slowly crept across his lips,
and he walked toward her.
“Surprised?” he drawled.
Janelle’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words escaped. She swallowed
the lump in her throat and tried again. “You’re dead.”
“Very good,” Richard said. “I had wondered if you’d notice.”
“You kidnapped my son and shot my sister, of course I noticed,” Janelle spat and
quickly backed up a step as his scowl intensified.
“Still only thinking of how I hurt you? You can’t accept that all of this is your
fault. That if you’d been a better wife, I wouldn’t be dead.”
“That’s not true,” Janelle said breathlessly as she sat on the arm of the closest
pew.
“My mother was right about you. You’re nothing but a worthless whore. I wasted so
much time trying to make you happy, trying to give you everything you ever wanted,
to give you the kind of life your sister was living. And you
thank me by fucking
Nathan!” Richard glared down his nose at her as his face slowly changed to the man
he’d been when he died. “You ruined my life, Janelle.”
“You think yours was ruined?” came a low tenor from behind Janelle, and she hung
her head. “She’s apparently just getting started with my life.” Nathan appeared and
stood across the aisle, arms folded across his broad chest as he glowered at her.
“It wasn’t bad enough she hadn’t told me about my child, now she’s taken my career
too.” He leaned closer. “I hope you’re happy.”
Janelle shook her head as her eyes began to sting. She’d never meant to hurt Nathan.
He had to understand that. “Nathan, I’m sorry. I—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted, his lip curling.
“It’s probably best if you stay away from her.”
Janelle turned at her mother’s hoity statement and watched her glide down the aisle.
“Like her sister, she refuses to take my advice. I’m afraid she’ll never be fit as
a wife.” Mary looked at Richard as tears slid down her cheeks. “I’m only sorry I
couldn’t make her fit for you, my poor, poor dear.”
Janelle looked from Mary’s sorrowful face to Richard’s smirking glare and then to
Nathan’s angry expression. They all began to talk at once.
Whore
.
Worthless
.
Liar
.
Janelle covered her ears and began shaking her head.
“No,” she muttered. “No. No. No.”
Janelle sat up, shaking, her heart racing, her eyes closed tightly, her hands over
her ears. Slowly, she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. In the dark,
she could just make out the familiar shape of her dresser against the wall to her
right, the taller armoire on the opposite wall. She backed herself up until she was
leaning against the headboard as she let out a long exhale.