Extreme Malice

Home > Fiction > Extreme Malice > Page 11
Extreme Malice Page 11

by R E Swirsky


  Chapter 7

  Thursday, September 22nd 9:42 am

  Funeral arrangements needed to be made, and Jack sat at Smitty's with Brenda and Andrew going over the details. Donna's sister, Sherri, lived with Donna's parents, but she was much too upset to leave the house to join them. Donna's body would be released over the weekend, and they decided that the funeral would be on Tuesday. Brenda insisted that she write the obituary, and Jack was more than happy to let her take over.

  There was a TV mounted above the bar in the lounge just beyond the six-foot, latticed pony wall that separated the restaurant and lounge. They could see the TV from where they sat, and the hostess turned up the volume when a press conference on the Gardener murder interrupted the regular programming.

  Jack, Brenda, and Andrew stopped talking and turned their attention to the TV. Detective Dean Daly was at the podium announcing they officially charged 18-year-old Josh Anderson with the strangulation murder of Donna Gardener. Josh Anderson was a second-year student at Bluffington University, the same University where Donna Gardner worked as a student counselor. Josh was being held at the county jail until his hearing on Monday.

  Brenda put her hand up to her mouth in dismay, "Did you know about this, Jack?"

  Jack ignored her question and listened as Dean continued. He said no details of the murder would be given out at this time because it was an ongoing investigation. Dean opened the floor to questions.

  The first question came from Mark Nichols of the Bluffington Post. "Was this murder somehow related to a connection they made at the University?"

  "Yes. The fact that both of them were present at the University is definitely a factor. Next question.”

  "Is Jack Gardner no longer a suspect?" asked by Global News.

  "We have no evidence suggesting Jack Gardner was involved in the murder of his wife. Next question."

  "Was Mr. Anderson seeing Mrs. Gardner for counseling? Is that the connection?" asked a CTN news reporter.

  "I can't go into details, but yes, Mr. Anderson did participate in sessions at the University with Mrs. Gardner."

  "So this resulted from the occupational risk of working with teenagers? Did Mr. Anderson kill Mrs. Gardner because of something in their counseling sessions?" CBC News.

  "No. Her death had nothing to do with any occupational risk of being a teacher or counselor, and her death was not related to any ongoing counseling with Mr. Anderson."

  "Not related to her being a counselor? You're saying this was personal, then?" Mark Nichols asked.

  Dean waved his arms in front of him. "I can’t give out any more details. The investigation is ongoing. I thank you all for coming." Dean turned away from the podium and headed back inside the station. Reporters followed and asked more questions, but Dean ignored the mob behind him.

  "Jack, did you know about this?" Brenda asked.

  "No," Jack said and suddenly excused himself from the table and headed to the washroom.

  Jack splashed water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. Dean told the press he was not a suspect. After last night with Dean, Dean saying Jack wasn’t even a suspect bothered him. He spotted a dark-haired biker in the reflection standing behind him at the urinal. Jack watched in the mirror as the biker finished his business. Jack stayed at the sink and let water cover his hands until the biker left Jack all alone.

  Jack shook the water from his hands, dried them off, and slowly wandered over to the urinal where the biker was. He looked down into the porcelain surface; he saw only the little sanitary cube in the bottom of the white bowl with a small stream of water swirling around and down the drain. There was nothing else of interest. He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. He walked back out to the table, sat down, and carried on with the others as if he had never left.

  "My God, Jack. Did you know that boy?" Andrew asked. Jack could hear concern in his gruff voice.

  "I knew him well, actually. We went over for dinner at the Anderson's many times." Jack paused and looked at Andrew and Brenda. "There's something I really need to tell you now before you hear it elsewhere."

  Brenda grabbed Andrew's hand and began to cry. "What happened to our Donna?"

  Jack knew he'd have to tell them what he knew before they heard it from the press or people around town. He began to tear up and grabbed Brenda and Andrew's hands in his.

  "The fact is, Brenda…uh, I just don't know how to say it. I still hardly believe what the police told me, but...Dean said Josh strangled Donna in our bed. He also thinks Josh and Donna were having…an affair…and that Josh was in our bed with Donna more than once."

  Brenda began to cry softly.

  "I told Dean that it had to be a mistake, but Dean told me the evidence they found, and…I just can't..." Jack cried with Brenda.

  "I don't believe it!" Brenda whispered through her tears. "No, no, no."

  Andrew held Brenda close, looked at Jack, and mouthed the words, "I'm so sorry."

  Brenda and Andrew now knew what they were in for over the next weeks and months, and Jack felt only a bit of relief at not having to hide the rumors from them anymore. People were already talking about it out there, and Brenda and Andrew would have to deal with it in the same way he was.

  Jack's Blackberry rang. It was his mother. His parents were at the hotel.

  They drove to Jack’s hotel in silence until they got into the parking lot.

  “Do you want to come in?” Jack asked. “I’m sure my parents would like to see you.”

  “No, no. I…I should get to work on the obituary,” Brenda said.

  Jack knew this was just an excuse; she wasn’t capable of facing Jack’s parents if Donna’s infidelity was true.

  Jack exited and Andrew rolled down his window. “We will call you when Brenda feels better,” he said.

  Jack nodded. “I’ll say hello to them for you.”

  “Yes, please do that,” Andrew replied and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Jack was greeted with a hug from his mother, Louisie, as soon as he entered the hotel room. She hugged him like she had not seen him for years and might never see him again. Robert stood by her side and shook Jack’s hand. Robert, or Bud, as most people called him, was an old boot with a sour face. He never let his emotions surface. He was stoic as usual as he asked, "So, how's things Jack?"

  Louisie scowled. "How do you think things are, Bud? Jack's been through a lot. Sheesh!"

  "Hmmph, I guess so. Sorry Jack."

  "It's alright, Dad. I'm holding up. At least they found who killed her. It does help some."

  "That's right. Donna was such a lovely girl. I just can't believe it," Louisie said and finally released her grip on Jack.

  The afternoon eroded away as Jack recapped the events of the past few days and reconnected with his parents. He told them about the interrogation and the possibility that Donna was having an affair with the neighbor boy. Louisie was horrified, but Bud didn’t think it was so strange these days. Louise and Bud chain-smoked and often ducked out to the small balcony of the hotel room for a few minutes. Jack watched his mother as she pinched another no name cigarette between her tiny fingers and lit up outside. Her fingers squeezed the cigarette and left a small depression in the filter. When she was done puffing away, she squeezed off the remaining ember, which fell away into the ashtray and continued to smolder, before dropping the filter portion.

  Bud always rolled his own; Jack thought it was so he had something to fidget with when he was uncomfortable. Today was one of those uncomfortable days. Bud sat quietly at the table, fidgeted together a few smokes for later, and tucked them back in the pouch to keep them moist.

  Jack’s phone rang. It was Brad.

  “You hanging in there, Jack?” Brad asked.

  “I’m fine, Brad. Is there anything new?”

  “Nothing new since the press conference. They are still pretty tight-lipped down at the station.”
>
  Jack half-expected Dean to call him back down for another round of questioning after last night, but he didn’t hear anything from Dean. Dean was probably busy digging deeper into every piece of evidence to try to uncover something that would put Jack back centre stage in the investigation.

  “You just keep holding tight. I’ll let you know immediately when I know something,” Brad said and hung up.

  “Who was that?” his mother asked.

  “Just my lawyer.”

  “Oh,” she replied. “I want to see the house,” Louisie said suddenly.”

  “The house?”

  “Yes, Jack. I want to go see the house. We can do that can’t we?”

  Jack smiled. “Well, you certainly can’t go in, but we can drive by if you really want to,” Jack said.

  “I do. Let’s go.”

  His mother’s curiosity was welcome as Jack was curious to see if there was any activity going on over there since his late night rendezvous with Dean. Half an hour later, Bud was behind the wheel driving them across town to Founders Road. A home roll bounced from Bud’s lower lip and the growing ash hung dangerously suspended from the end ready to fall.

  As they turned on to Founders Road, Jack could see drastic changes. Unlike yesterday, when there were only two detectives at the house, there was now a full investigation team with numerous vehicles parked in the drive and on the street, including a command centre. Dean was serious. They put up plastic sheets around the back portion of both houses. Dean was definitely being thorough.

  Bud slowed the car down so he could park on the side of the road.

  “No, don’t stop,” Jack said. "Drive slowly, but do not stop. I don't think it's a good idea for me to be hanging around here while this is going on."

  Louisie and Bud both looked at Jack. Bud kept driving. Louisie frowned. Bud’s cigarette ash fell unnoticed onto his slacks.

 

‹ Prev