Bad Boy Brother

by Chance Carter

  And what was worse, he knew he wanted to do it for real!

  He rolled over and fell into a very deep, very satisfying slumber.

  * * *

  The next day, Isabelle was content to occupy herself with her toys and books in her room. The peace meant Jenny could spend the morning in the kitchen after breakfast.

  The pile of breakfast dishes was still spread out on the kitchen counter. In time, she would have to bring some sense of organization to the house. But not yet.

  Earlier that morning, when Jenny hadn't been able to sleep and Isabelle was tucked away in her room, Jenny tiptoed down to the living room to place a call to Chief Cartright.

  It wasn't that she didn't want Isabelle, she just had trouble believing that she could be the only option available to raise her. Didn't Isabelle have grandparents who would embrace her with open arms? Ones who didn't have important jobs and fulfilling lives in New York?

  The Chief assured her he would come around soon to better explain the situation. He had sounded busy and short, as if her call were exactly as selfish as the back of her mind kept telling her it was.

  When he eventually arrived in a dusty squad car, Jenny put on her now familiar fake smile and invited him into the kitchen.

  “In response to your earlier inquiry,” Chief Cartright removed his hat and set it down on the counter. “I'm afraid I have to tell you that the grandparents won’t be able to take on the child. They're in a nursing home.

  Jenny could tell from the look on his face that he suspected she might not be particularly fit herself.

  “I just wondered, is all.”

  Jenny set about preparing coffee, grateful to have found a pack of pecan tarts in one of the cupboards in time for his arrival. Eager to change the subject, she moved onto last night's surprise visitor.

  “What do you know about Roy Peters?” Jenny asked the Chief as she poured the hot water into two mugs.

  Chief Cartright paused, a crumbling pecan tart in mid-reach.

  “What about him? Has he been causing you any problems?”

  “He stopped by last night.”

  Jenny handed the Chief a mug of steaming coffee.

  “If he's been bothering you, I can do something about that. He's already been warned not to spread his filthy lies about town.”

  “It's fine.”

  Jenny dropped two sugar cubes into her coffee and stirred it thoughtfully.

  “He had a lot to say about my brother, Joey, and his supposed innocence.”

  “He's been running that racket around town since we arrested your brother. They used to be very close. They were partners on the force together before we had to let him go for his anger issues.”

  Chief Cartright sighed heavily as he readjusted his weight in the soft couch cushions.

  “Like I said, we've given him a warning already, and he didn’t take it well.”

  “He did say something about my brother being set up.”

  “Well, that is just nonsense talk, of course. Everyone in this town knew your brother, and I can't think of a single person who would have gone out of their way to do that.”

  He grunted out of frustration.

  “We wouldn't have arrested him unless we had due cause. You must know that.”

  “Right.” Jenny felt foolish for mentioning the visit to him in the first place. “I'm sorry to have brought it up. Obviously, I believe that you arrested the right man.”

  The chief grunted in agreement as if he, too, felt it was a foolish notion to even be discussing such a thing. He took a generous bite of his pecan tart as he studied her face with his steely blue gaze.

  “You don't doubt that we arrested the right man, do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  She reached for a pecan tart herself, anything to keep her hands from shaking in her lap.

  “Why would I doubt you? That would be foolish. I know the kind of guy my little brother is.”

  Except, she didn't know anymore. It had been two years since she had last seen him. All she knew about Joey was what she knew about him growing up together as children and what she’d learned from her semi-regular phone conversations with Chloe.

  It would be foolish to doubt the police, right?

  Chapter 5

  Roy Peters closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

  It was silent except for the rush of water draining from his shower head. The best sound in the world, if you asked him.

  His small cabin was built on the outskirts of town with his own two hands roughly five years ago, immediately following his return from the army. His head was full of memories, and with it came the strong desire to keep those memories from doing him in.

  He had taken up with the loveliest girl in town, a gem, Natalie Reed. He swept her off her feet in an instant, grateful to have someone with whom he could spend the rest of his life. Love, he thought, was going to keep him going strong. It would also serve to keep those memories of a life gone by far at bay.

  They married within months, far too wrapped up in their hearts and hopes to consider what the future could hold for them. He'd took on a job as a police officer at the local station, and she got a part-time job at the bakery.

  He built this cabin the following summer to house them and their future family.

  And then, in an instant, their blessed lives took a dramatic turn, from which he'd never recover.

  They'd fought, and although it was a rarity, it was one for the books, as his mother would have said, were she still living. She left for her folks’ house out of town, and when she was going, he told her he was glad. “Peace,” he had shouted at her angrily as she hauled her bag out to her truck. “Finally!”

  The next morning, before the sun had risen over the lake, he heard a distinct knock at the door. He thought it was her, hoped that it was, as he stumbled shirtless to the door to allow her re-entry and ask for forgiveness.

  But the officer at the door, a grave look on his face, said it all. His precious wife was gone forever.

  Roy had remained angry ever since.

  He reached for the knobs and turned off the shower abruptly. Those memories were getting harder to suppress.

  * * *

  That afternoon, Jenny took Isabelle out to run errands, a diversion that would get them out of the house for a much-needed change of scenery. They'd existed mostly in an awkward silence since they'd returned to the house, and Jenny was anxious to make some progress with the relationship.

  Isabelle, as always, remained quiet. She followed Jenny like a nervous shadow, staying close but not willing to risk looking like she belonged to the strange woman.

  Jenny was fine with the child's shadow-like strategies. It was the looks she was getting from the other town folk that made her feel uneasy. They stared openly and whispered among themselves, obviously finding her a good source of gossip. Not that she wouldn't have had something to say if she had been in their shoes.

  Joey was well-known for his misadventures. She could only imagine what they expected her to be like.

  It was times like this that she craved the anonymity of the city.

  The faces that peered from shop doorways and from passing cars were unfamiliar. Like Jenny, most of her childhood friends had left Ombrea as soon as it was humanly possible.

  Chloe and Joey were two of the rare few who stayed behind, content with all the small town had to offer and happy to remain isolated.

  “Can we be done now?”

  Isabelle spoke softly for the first time since they'd left the safety of the car behind.

  “Almost.”

  Willing herself not to lose her resolve now, Jenny pushed on. Isabelle came quietly along behind her.

  “Is there nothing you want to get?”

  Isabelle shook her head rapidly, and her bottom lip began to tremble. Before Jenny knew it, tears were streaming from the child's eyes. It was agonizing to watch, and Jenny's heart ached for her little niece.

  “Come here, sweetheart
.”

  She took Isabelle into her arms awkwardly. Isabelle remained stiff in her aunt’s embrace, sobbing.

  “It's going to be okay.”

  “I know,” Isabelle said defensively , breaking free of Jenny's arms. “I wasn’t even crying.”

  Isabelle’s tough attitude reminded Jenny of Joey at that age, broken but not wanting to display his vulnerability. Even when they learned their parents had been killed, he didn’t shed a public tear. He just holed himself up in his battered, old treehouse for days, as if his anger and grief were something he had to keep secret.

  “Okay. I didn't see anything.”

  She turned back to the street and they continued on their way, her shadow keeping pace behind her.

  * * *

  Roy was chopping logs in front of his cabin when he heard the screech of tires coming down the back road.

  He paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, his muscles rippling in the mid-day sun. As the noise grew closer, he reached for his discarded shirt and pulled it on. It clung tightly to the sheen of sweat across his chest.

  A lone police car rolled into view and Roy slammed the ax down into the nearest log, anger and frustration taking hold. This was the last person he wanted to see.

  Roy could tell from the look on Chief Cartright's face that the feeling was mutual. Cartright threw his car door shut with a force that was clearly meant to make a statement.

  “You must be lost,” Roy shouted across to him, wiping a tuft of his dark, brown hair away from his forehead. “You're not welcome here.”

  “You better watch your mouth, boy.”

  Cartright gave a cautious glance to the ax as he approached, his face twisted in a vicious sneer.

  “I hear you've been making a pest of yourself again.”

  Joey’s sister, he thought, wincing. Of course, she'd see to it that he and his plan to prove her brother’s innocence were shut down.

  “You must have heard wrong.”

  “Is that so?”

  Cartright let out a snort.

  “Funny how trouble just seems to find you in this town, Roy.”

  “That's not how I see it.”

  “That doesn't matter, boy. You've had one warning already about spreading this ridiculous theory of yours. You'd be smart to get a new hobby.”

  “Or what?”

  Roy reached out his hand and gripped the handle of the ax. He smiled thinly as Cartright's eyes passed from the sharp weapon and back to his with a fleeting look of apprehension.

  “You don’t want to know what happens if I have to come back and speak to you again.”

  “You'll have to forgive me if I’m not shaking in my boots, Chief.”

  Cartright smirked, and Roy considered just how much damage it would do if he went for the older man with his fists raised. He could have him on the floor in an instant, perhaps aiming a well-placed boot to the Chief's ribs.

  It wouldn't make him or his band of fools any less corrupt, but it would be satisfying as hell to wipe that smirk from his ugly face.

  “Just keep your ridiculous notions to yourself. No one wants to help Joey Dale.He’s a scumbag”

  Cartright turned his back and started back to his car.

  “Or you could save us all some time and effort and just release the innocent man from jail,” Roy called out to him.

  He watched Cartright's shoulders tense as he halted his step.

  He had hit a nerve.

  Without turning back, Cartright responded, “Or you could just let it go, boy.”

  Roy didn't give the Chief the benefit of a retort. He simply watched as the officer shifted himself into the car and pulled the door shut behind him. The car's tires scattered dirt and gravel as he disappeared back down the beaten track to the main road.

  Roy picked up his ax once more and gave it an almighty swing into the closest log. To hell with them all, he thought.

  Chapter 6

  The morning of the funeral, Jenny got up before the sun and sat on the front porch. She made herself a hot coffee but it sat untouched on the small table beside her.

  She couldn't believe she was about to attend the funeral of her best friend. It was all such a dreadful turn of events, and she found herself wishing she had been more of a friend over the past few months.

  Her new life had kept her insanely busy. Her magazine career had skyrocketed in the past few months, and it consumed her every moment, leaving no time to be social or tend to old friendships. In fact, she could clearly recall at least one time when she had purposely ignored Chloe's call.

  She had been absorbed in her work and eager to meet an editor's deadline. She jotted down a note on her memo pad return Chloe’s call, but she never did, and now she never could.

  Jenny had never once considered what would happen if she lost Chloe. Her parents died in a car accident when she and Joey were young and the grandparents that had taken them in immediately after the accident dies, one after the other, during her college years.

  She thought she was done with losing loved ones. It never occurred to her that she would lose someone her own age. Someone with so much life left in her.

  Life and death were so unpredictable.

  The funeral itself was a small affair. There was a handful of guests in attendance, mostly townspeople who had known Chloe. Three or four old friends from their high school days had also returned to Ombrea for the memorial.

  Having been a year ahead in school, she barely knew them, but they spoke of Chloe fondly, and Jenny enjoyed listening to their stories of time spent with her. She couldn't help but feel out of place amongst them. They seemed to know more about her sister-in-law than she did.

  A few of Ombrea's police officers also attended the funeral. Chief Cartright’s towering figure stood out among the rest. Jenny felt his steely gaze on her more than once at the service.

  The officers stood away from the crowd, speaking amongst each other.

  Jenny kept a watchful eye on Isabelle through it all. The young child had been especially close with Norma, the Dales’ elderly neighbor, and so the pair of them sat together, Jenny a stranger at their side as they talked and reminisced together. It was Norma who Isabelle turned to for a hug when the memorial got to be too much. Jenny simply clasped her hands in her lap and allowed Isabelle her comfort and grief. Today would not be a day for bonding.

  In order to prepare herself mentally and emotionally, Jenny made sure she was the last one to speak at the funeral. She kept her story short, bringing up long-forgotten memories of her time with Chloe. Each memory was more painful than the last, and she had her head bowed to hide her tears from the room of strangers.

  Embarrassed and hurting, she lingered close to Chloe's grave and away from the others. She watched in silence as her friend was carefully lowered into the ground. It didn't seem real, she thought, as she dropped a handful of dirt in on top of the coffin and said her final goodbyes. It couldn't be real.

  Following the ceremony, the attendees began to socialize, Isabelle and Norma included. Jenny was an outsider and made no effort to bridge any gaps.

  She could feel their eyes on her as they no doubt discussed the horrific circumstances of Chloe’s death. She knew she longed for the streets of the city from whence she’d been torn – nameless, faceless, anonymous.

  This town was suffocating. A person couldn’t leave the house without everyone holding an opinion on where he’d come from, why he’d been there, and where he was going.

  The crowd dispersed to their cars in small waves. They would be heading to Norma’s where a wake would be held. Jenny held back from the rest, allowing Isabelle to leave with Norma who provided the support she obviously needed at this difficult time.

  Jenny was alone. She was in no mood for awkward small talk, egg salad sandwiches and tea. She wanted nothing more than to head back to the Dale house where she could crawl under the covers and hide for the rest of the day, but the judging mourners would no doubt find her absence offensive. She’d
be damned if she went and damned if she didn’t. They had already made up their minds about her.

  As she stood there trying to gain the courage to go to the wake, she sensed that someone was watching her. Turning her head toward the church she saw a tall figure dressed in faded jeans and an old army-green jacket.

  Jenny took a quick look around to see if anyone else had noticed Roy standing there before heading in his direction.

  “You shouldn't be here, Roy,” she told him.

  She kept a careful eye on the small group of officers who were still deep in discussion at their vehicles.

  “You have a lot of nerve showing up at Chloe’s grave. You have to leave immediately.”

  Roy stuck his hands into the pockets of his old combat jacket.

  “I came here because I figured I would give you another chance to hear me out. Three days seemed like enough time for you to come to your senses. ”

  “Why show up here asking for a second chance to plead your case?” she asked incredulously as she placed her hands on her hips.

  “You’re a real piece of work, Dale. Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me that you’re okay to let your brother rot in jail for a crime he didn't commit? You’ve decided his guilt, and you’re too stubborn to even entertain the thought that he may have been set up?”

  “By whom?” she cut in.

  She raised her voice, her temper flaring. This jerk really did bring out the worst in her.

  “Who in this back-ass town would have any reason to set up my brother?”

  Roy jerked his head toward the group of officers who, thankfully, had not noticed his presence. Jenny could only imagine what would happen if they did discover he had come to the grave, especially after everything Chief Cartright had told her the last time she had brought Roy up in conversation.

  She crossed her arms across her chest.

  “You have got to be kidding me. You just can't stop this crazy train, can you?”

  “Is my theory that farfetched, considering the rumors already going around town?”

  Roy turned his back on her and began walking off between the headstones.

  Jenny hesitated for a moment, her anger and frustration rooting her to the ground. She didn't believe him even for a second. She couldn't believe him. And yet, something made her doubt her once solid beliefs.