Authors: R Gendreau-Webb
Jason knew he was being honest, but ignored the statement. “I need to attend my mother’s funeral in Boston. I’m not supposed to leave the state. I need you to make it so I can go back to Boston for a few days.”
“I’m sure I can arrange that. You are planning to come back?”
“You think I’m gonna run?” Jason gave a sarcastic laugh. “I didn’t do this. I’m not running away from it. I am going to find out who’s setting me up.”
“I already have a private detective digging into that for us,” Sparks told him. “Look, give me a few hours to arrange for you to go back home. I’ll call you when it’s set.”
“Thanks.” Jason disconnected the call. He glanced at the digital clock on the microwave: 10:54 pm. He was surprised he had gotten through to his lawyer this time of night. Although he had spent the majority of the day sleeping, he knew he needed more. He showered first, finding it almost impossible to keep his splint dry as had been instructed. Then Jason went into the bedroom, quietly, trying not to awaken Mia. He undressed with an uncoordinated effort from his left hand and slipped into bed next to Mia. Her body felt warm next to his. Jason felt guilty with the way he had treated her today. She had been standing by him through all of the turmoil. He knew he owed her a bigger and better apology than he had offered her today.
As he stretched out, trying to find a comfortable position for his hand, Mia unconsciously moved in her sleep, snuggling up next to him. Her thigh draped over his, her head resting on his shoulder. It made him smile in the darkness and gave him hope that everything might work out alright.
***
“I called in a lot of favors. You have forty-eight hours and you better be back here by then,” Sparks told Jason over the phone. “Call me when you’re back from the funeral.”
“Okay.” Jason paused. “Thanks,” he added.
“That’s what you pay me lots of money to do,” Sparks replied before hanging up.
Jason set down his cell and turned to Mia. They were sitting at the small kitchen table with coffee. He took a sip, still trying to adjust to doing even the simple things with his left hand, and filled her in on the conversation with his lawyer.
“Good, so you can go. I’ll call the hospital and tell them I need a few personal days.”
With a sigh, Jason shook his head. “You don’t have to go, Mia. It isn’t going to be pleasant, and I am sure there will be reporters and cameras everywhere. Stay here.”
“Like hell,” she glared at Jason. “I’m not letting you go by yourself.” Mia got up and grabbed her cell phone off the counter. “I’m calling work and then packing a few things. I assume we’ll take my car?” Jason’s car still hadn’t been returned by the police.
“I guess so.”
The drive was long. The roads were congested and slick. It had been snowing intermittently for three days. Jason and Mia shared little conversation through the travel. Mia’s mind was on the conversation she’d had with Tyler earlier, telling him she wouldn’t be in.
“Are you sure, Dr. Hitchcock? Because you are still on orientation and call-outs can lead to dismissal,” he had warned her. She hadn’t told Jason about it.
Jannifer’s lawyer had informed Jason that his mother would be cremated and put to rest in the Howard family plot, with his father. The ceremony, inclusive of the Bible quotes and music, had been previously planned by her. The funeral would be at the church she had attended through-out her life in Boston. All Jason had to do was show up. She was even calling the shots from her grave, he thought wryly.
When Mia stepped into the brownstone, she immediately thought of the last time she had been there, the day she had left Jason. From the look on Jason’s face, he was thinking about the same thing, as they stood in the foyer.
“Is your hand okay?” Mia asked, trying to forget the ugly memory of leaving.
“It’s fine. Can’t wait to get the splint off.” He turned towards her; put down the bag he had carried in and pulled her into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I know all of this isn’t easy and I need you here with me. And you already knew that because here you are.”
Since being released from jail, Jason had been distant. Mia hugged tightly, surprised by his sudden show of emotion. She knew this where she belonged. What if Jason was eventually convicted? She couldn’t lose him. Not now.
XV.
The funeral service was the next morning. Snow spit down from the gloomy, overcast Boston sky. Jason and Mia dressed in black and headed to the church. He had been annoyed that after Mia dressed, she had needed to help him with the buttons on his oxford shirt and then knotting his tie. He already felt so helpless due to the charges filed against him, and now he needed his girlfriend to help dress him. Pathetic.
As he had predicted, media were out in full force. News cameras recorded the couple as they entered the private service, reported shouted questions to them. Jason silently condemned the First Amendment of the Constitution that allowed free speech as he and Mia entered the church.
The service was brief. Mia was thankful of that. As she watched Jason through-out it, he had sat next to her, eyes squeezed shut, his jaw muscles twitched with tension and his breathing was ragged. She didn’t know how much more stress he could endure.
He led her out of the church quickly, grasping her hand in his left. Several of the service attendees, most from the world of politics and high society his parents had lived in, had wanted to share their condolences with Jason. He didn’t stay to hear their sympathetic words. He didn’t even acknowledge Kate, his partner or his wife. He simply needed to get out.
Back at the brownstone, Jason loosened his tie and threw it on the kitchen counter as he headed to the fridge to grab a beer. He needed something to steady his nerves today. Jason was used to controlling his world and the new unruliness of it was getting to him, especially today. He shouldn’t have just attended his mother’s funeral.
“Are you alright?” Mia asked him. He hadn’t heard her follow him into the kitchen. Jason nodded as he took a long swig of beer. “You haven’t eaten,” she pointed out as she watched him empty the bottle.
“I’m not hungry.” Jason opened the fridge and grabbed another beer.
“Obviously, you’re not driving back tonight.”
“Nope.” He drank more. “I’m not going anywhere today or tonight.” He felt lucky that there wasn’t media outside, waiting for him to leave the brownstone.
Mia stifled her response. Arguing with him wasn’t going to be productive. She moved passed him to look in the fridge to see if there was anything to make a sandwich. Nothing. “I’m gonna run to the market up the street for a few things. There’s nothing here.” Jason ignored her but continued drinking.
He paid for it in the morning. The forty-eight hours were almost up; he and Mia needed to return to Maine by the evening. Jason’s stomach was in knots, his head throbbed, the room spun when he tried to get up. He couldn’t remember the last time he had awoken with a hangover.
“Hey, good morning.” Mia had heard him wake up and before he got out of bed, had aspirin and black coffee for him. “Here.” She handed him the steaming cup as he sat up. “That will help.” Judging from the empty bottles in the kitchen she had found that morning as she made coffee, Mia knew Jason was going to feel horrible.
He gratefully took a sip. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Mia asked him. “I know you didn’t last night.” She had left him alone in the study. He had obviously not wanted anyone around.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jason answered as he slowly got out of bed. He made his way into the bathroom, stripped off his shorts and turned on the shower. “We’ve got to be at the lawyer’s by eleven.”
“The reading of the will?”
“Yeah.” He stepped into the shower and appreciated the forceful hot water as it hit him. “Then I guess we need to drive back.” He was acutely aware that he had to be back in Maine by nightfall.
“I can drive if you want me to,” Mia offered.
“No.” Jason finished and exited the shower, a towel draped low around his narrow waist. Mia sighed, remembering past times when she would have taken advantage of his lack of clothes. She knew neither of them was in the mood now.
“I took out one of your suits for you,” she told him as she slipped on a dress.
“Thanks.”
Just before they left the brownstone, Jason wondering when he would be able to return, his cell rang. “Howard, its Captain Saunders. Sorry about your mother.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jason was surprised to hear from his boss.
“I know things are not easy for you right now,” Saunders started. “I was hoping you might be able to meet me. Maybe at my house?”
“I’m on the way to the lawyer’s.” Jason thought for a moment---what did his boss want? Obviously it was in an unofficial capacity. “Would twelve thirty work?”
“Yes. See you then, Jason.”
The formal reading of the will did not take long. At first, Jannifer’s lawyer wanted Mia to stay in the well-appointed waiting room. Jason flatly refused the request and Mia was now seated next to him in the lawyer’s office.
“Your mother left two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to various charities,” he told Jason, his glare clearly displaying his displeasure with Mia in the room. “The rest has been left to you. With a stipulation.” The lawyer hadn’t wanted Mia to hear the stipulation. If she was a gold digger, as Jannifer had once commented, than the lawyer didn’t want to plant ideas in her head.
Here it comes, thought Jason. Even from the grave, she’s trying to control me. “The stipulation is?”
“There is two million dollars in a trust fund, like the money in trust from your grandmother’s will. Same stipulation. You must marry and have an offspring to carry on the Howard name before your thirty-fifth birthday. If you do not, the money goes to charity.”
Mia winced as she listened. She couldn’t imagine why a mother would put such pressure on a child? Force him into a relationship and parenthood if he didn’t want those things? Jason’s voice, calm and seemingly unfazed, cut into her thought. His mother’s demands on him were nothing new. And now she better understood his reaction to the pregnancy and the thought of someone else trying to force his hand. “The properties?” he asked.
“They’re yours now, the Boston property and the cottage on the Vineyard. There are no stipulations attached to inheriting them.”
“Thank you,” Jason offered as he stood and grabbed Mia’s hand. He led her from the office proper, through the waiting room and out into the corridor towards the elevator. “Such bullshit,” he muttered as he pressed the down button for the elevator.
“Are you angry about the money?” Mia asked. She was stunned; she hadn’t realized the level of wealth Jason had come from. She had never known about the summer cottage on Martha’s Vineyard. Jason had never seemed to be obsessed with money, didn’t flaunt it. But he had never seemed to worry about it either.
“Hell, yes!” His blue eyes almost pierced through her. “I don’t give a damn if I get it or not. I am pissed that even dead, the Howard women are still trying to mold me into the son and grandson they wanted without any care about what I want.” He took a breath and didn’t like the apprehensive look that crossed Mia’s face. Was she wondering if he had enough contempt for his mother to have killed her? “I didn’t hate them, Mia,” he offered quickly. “I just never fit into the mold they wanted to stick me in.”
“I didn’t think you hated them, Jay,” Mia said softly, touching his arm.
***
Jason had been to Captain Howard’s home only once. It was on the outskirts of the city in a pleasant, tree-lined neighborhood. Saunders was waiting out on the porch that ran along the front of the two-story home. “How are you holding up, Jason?” he asked as his guests climbed the stairs up onto the porch. He thought the detective looked exhausted and stressed.
“I’m okay.” He turned to Mia. “You remember Captain Saunders?”
“Yes, nice to see you again, sir.”
“I wish it were under better circumstances. Well, come in.” Saunders led them into the living room. “Have a seat.” He pointed to the couch and stuffed recliner. “I’m sorry about your mother,” he began.
Jason nodded. “Is this about the internal affairs investigation or my arrest?”
Saunders drew in a breath, wondering how to start. “I’ve known you since you joined the force. I know you’re not capable of what you’re accused of.”
“That’s a great endorsement,” Jason answered, “but they are stacking circumstantial evidence against me no matter what the truth is.”
“I know,” Saunders nodded. “You’re being set-up.”
“It appears that way, but I have no idea who or why.”
“I think I do.” Saunders produced a big manila envelope and handed it to Jason. “Don’t ask me where I got that. It doesn’t matter. But you need to have an open mind.”
Jason gave a confused look to Saunders as he opened the envelope, taking out several pages. He flipped through without saying a word. Mia anxiously waited for something to be said. Nothing---silence. She watched Jason slide the papers back into the envelope and stand.
“You didn’t get that from me,” Saunders informed Jason. “I haven’t seen you since you were put on administrative leave.”