An Unfinished Life (27 page)

A
fter I loaded our bags into the car, I took one last look around the cabin and committed to memory all that we shared here over the last few days. We were back on solid ground, and that was what scared me the most. I knew I was living on borrowed time. As soon as we’d get back to our home, Sara would see the news or paper and find out about Michael. My gut was telling me that she would immediately assume it was me, and everything we repaired in our relationship would be destroyed with this bombshell.

I couldn’t allow myself to go there right now. She was happy, we were happy. If and when she confronted me with her questions, I would simply deny it, because although I had murderous intentions, I wasn’t the one that did it. The question will be: “Did you murder Michael St. Clair?” And I will firmly state “No” as my answer. But if the questions were to shift to asking me if I was privy to it, or know the person or persons responsible, then I feared she would see right through me.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around my waist. “Daydreaming of last night in front of the fireplace? Yeah, I enjoyed that immensely, but it’s time to burst our bubble and go home to reality. I miss our home, and I’ve been up here so long, I don’t even know what games are on this weekend?”

“That’s my girl, always thinking of the restaurant first.”

I kissed her hands, but she pulled away.

“I hope that’s not what you really think of me. My first and only priority is you, my love, but we do have a business to return to.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Of course I know the difference. I just wanted to stay in the bubble a little longer.”

“I want that too, Jack, and we will come back soon, I promise.”

“Okay, I will hold you to that.”

She smiled and put her coat on, totally oblivious to my doubts.

“Sara,” I whispered.

She turned around and looked up at me.

“I will never forget this time here with you. It has meant so much. No matter what happens beyond these doors, know I will love you forever, and you are the only one that guides me through every piece of my life. Only you, Sara, only you. You have my heart.”

“I love you too, Jack. Now, stop making me cry, and bring us home.”

The drive home took a bit longer than expected due to the fresh snow that had fallen the night before. I would have loved to stay a few extra days, but Sara was excited to go home. How could I say no when the smile on her face brightened up a room? She spent the last hour on the phone talking to the kitchen staff, going over the current menu and planning a new one.

When we arrived back home, Sara practically sprinted toward her kitchen. She was the boss back there, and we mere mortals who just followed her lead.

I had Tommy collect all the delivered papers and stow them away in my office to go over. I was looking for anything on Michael, but at the moment, there were no reports on his death. It was business as usual for life in prison. To most, it was just another inmate that got shanked, but this wasn’t just anyone. I knew not to be too confident. Max was monitoring the chatter, and we were covered here in Chicago. My trip to California was well-documented to some degree, but also my time in Chicago was too. I made sure I was seen, and the one place I was not was near that prison.

“Knock, knock. Are you coming upstairs? The restaurant is starting to get busy, and the bar is already there.”

“Come here, baby.”

I patted my lap and gestured to my beautiful wife, who already had specks of flour on her cheeks from baking. God! I loved this woman. She came over, sat down, and got as close as she could with my arms holding her tight. I never wanted to let her go. The days without her had worn heavy on my soul.

“I see you’ve been busy in the kitchen. How about I carry you upstairs, and we get busy in our bedroom? Like…right now.”

“What has gotten into you, Jack Vanelle? Maybe I should go away more often if this is what I’m going to get when I get home?”

My hold on Sara instinctively tightened around her. Even joking around, I never wanted her to leave me again.

“I’m sorry, Jack. That was insensitive of me. I didn’t mean to bring up something that hurt us both. Forgive me?”

“It’s okay, I overreacted.” I shifted her off of me to where she was sitting on my desk. I stood over her and held her face in my hands and said, “Sara, I don’t know if I will ever be able to explain the depth of my feelings for you. How much I love you. How much I would do anything for you. I will give you anything you ask for, but the only thing I have ever needed was your love in return. Please, Sara, don’t ever leave me again. I will not lose you.”

“Jack, you scare me when you talk like this. I know how much you love me, because I love you just as much. Why do you think I fought so hard through my cancer? It was not for myself, but for you, my love. Do you remember the night that I woke up, and you were holding my hand?”

“Of course I do. You came back to me.”

“I did, and I heard every word you said to me while I was sleeping. You loved me then as much as you love me now. Believe me when I say this to you: even when I am mad at you, I love you. I left to clear my head and give you some time to work some things through. You came for me, and now we are back home together. No more sad eyes, okay?”

“I was desperate for you, Sara. I was out of my mind with worry, and I didn’t know if you were coming back. I should have had more faith in you, and in us. You were so angry with me.”

“Jack, why are we rehashing this?”

The words were there, but I couldn’t say it. I swallowed hard and tried again to tell Sara about Michael, and then Tommy was at my office door.

“Hey, boss, we have a late delivery upstairs for you to look over. It’s the wine you had special ordered.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He closed the door behind him. I kissed Sara and took her hand to follow me out, but she pulled back.

“What?” I asked.

“Seriously, Jack? What the hell is going on with you? What has changed in just a few hours since we’ve been home?”

“Forgive me, Sara, for being a little off now that we are home. I’m sorry if I keep bringing it up, but the last memory I have of you is when you left me. Maybe I wasn’t ready to come back here yet.”

She softened with my truth and walked over to me. She placed one arm around my waist and the other on my heart.

She said, “I love you. I’m sorry for leaving you. Please forgive me for my anger and silence.”

I was drained and didn’t have the strength to say one more sorry, so I said it with my actions. I kissed Sara until we were breathless. The storm that was raging inside of me had calmed with her soothing touch. I wasn’t going to think or give
him
anymore of my energy tonight.

We walked together upstairs to a very crowded bar and restaurant. My old friend Geno was here with his sons playing pool. Sara kissed me and walked back into the kitchen, and I joined the guys for a game.

The days that followed our blissful reunion were all about falling back into the steady rhythm of our routines. I was a constant presence in my bar, greeting my customers, having hearty conversations with the old timers who had been with me since opening day, playing a round of pool with friends.

I told myself that I wasn’t going to hide and fear the unknown aspects of my fate. Assurances were made to me that the nightmare I was living was over and could finally be laid to rest, but a guy like me knew better. Secrets and sins never stayed buried, no matter how hard you tried to believe that. There was always that one person who had a score to settle or was hell-bent on digging up the truth, no matter what it cost them.

Max texted me to meet him at one of the secured safe houses the Carlucci family used when they needed to disappear for a while. I refused Max’s request and asked him to come to the bar instead. My office was ironclad secure, and it was the one place I had 100% control in. Even safe houses had been known to be compromised by the FBI from time to time, and I wasn’t going to take any chances.

After I assisted Tommy with the morning deliveries and had lunch with Sara, I excused myself and explained to Sara that I had some work to do and calls to make. She accepted my answer with a kiss and left me to be on my own. I hated more than anything to keep things from her, but this was for her own protection.

Max had arrived about an hour later and stepped into my office wearing an expression I could only regard as grave.

“Skip the pleasantries and just tell me,” I said as I gestured to him to sit and get on with it. I wasn’t in the mood for his hysterics.

“It’s hit the papers. Here, look for yourself.”

He dropped
The
Los Angeles Times
on my desk with the headline: “Death toll rising in America’s prisons.” I read the beginning, finding nothing too damaging until I reached the second paragraph:

Michael St. Clair, son of former Paramount Studios President, Clayton St. Clair, was found dead in his Los Angeles County prison cell early Wednesday morning. Prison guards were called to inspect his cell after he was not in attendance for the morning roll-call. Prison officials have stated this is an ongoing active investigation which has been turned over to the FBI, where officials from the Los Angeles sector have now taken over the case. Director Timothy Wade declined comment at the time of this report going to print, but his office did release the following statement: “A specialized team has been assigned to oversee and bring to justice the person or persons responsible for the murder of Michael St. Clair.”

An unprecedented number of prison murders have been investigated and gone unsolved. The numbers are on the rise where most cases go unsolved and considered closed and filed as a cold case. Their office further stated that they are confident that this investigation will be handled diligently and professionally by their best agents.

I let out a deep sigh and laid my head back on my chair. I was relatively calm after reading the article. This didn’t come as a surprise to me. I knew it was coming. What I didn’t know was who was leading the charge. I was thankful that there was no mention of Nicolette, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t appear later or even be aired on national news outlets. When news of her attack broke through the gag order the prosecutor had in place, Nicolette completely broke down and had to be hospitalized. I couldn’t even imagine how she would react to this news now while she was in a critical phase in her pregnancy.

Max was silent and waiting for some kind of reaction from me. What could I do? It was out, and now I just had to wait for any possible fallout. I leaned my folded hands on my chin and only asked one question, “What do we know that is not written in this article?”

By the look on his face, I knew it wasn’t good.

“We heard some chatter down the wire from one of our sources in California, and it was confirmed by another in New York. At first we thought the family was being targeted and investigated—what else is new, right? But this is not your typical wiretapping or trying to pinch one of us for the usual bullshit they always hit us with. This is different.”

“And? Spit it out already,” I demanded as I slammed my hand down to my desk.

“One of the guys in charge, this agent, is not unknown to you, Jackie. In fact, he has a pretty deep connection to your past. He’s dirty, ruthless, and is hell-bent on bringing you down. He’s been waiting for this golden opportunity, and now with St. Clair getting clipped in prison, he’s going to use all he has in his arsenal to get what he wants.”

“It was so much more than just a routine hit, wasn’t it Max? I didn’t ask you for the details, but now I am. What did the contract say? And how gruesome was it? Tell me now, or the years of our friendship will not matter when I rip your fucking heart out!”

“Jackie, come on. You’re talking crazy again. I’m your friend, your oldest friend. I did what I had to do to protect you and the family you walked away from—but a family that would kill for you if asked.”

I was seething with anger toward my friend. I may have believed his justifications a week ago, but not anymore. He took my choice away from me, and now I would have to deal with the ramifications of his actions.

“I won’t ask again, Max. Tell me what the contract stated.”

“To make him suffer painfully, but swiftly. It was a clean job, Jack. I know you imagined something greater than what we delivered, but he’s gone and will never be able to hurt your daughter again.”

“You’re wrong, Max. She can still get hurt. Even the dead have the ability to speak. Now answer me this: Who’s the agent behind the badge willing to take down the Big Bad Wolf?”

He handed me a photo. I thought I was looking at a ghost. An uncanny resemblance to the boy I once knew. This guy was slightly different, though. He had a coldness to his eyes. I had never seen him before in my life, but something told me that I knew him. After staring at the photo for a few minutes, I looked back to Max.

“Like I said, Jack, he’s connected to your past. Meet Agent Dante Marino, the older brother to Mikey Marino. It spooked me too when I first saw the photo.”