by J. J. Bella
It scared her to see Lucas like that. And she knew he had a gun as well. Luckily, he hadn’t even reached for it. But what if Matthew hadn’t been drunk? What if he’d stood and fought back? Would Lucas have shot him? How much did it take to make him so angry that he’d beat someone even while they were down?
Her mind wandered to other things. Matthew had a little temper. It was why he’d shown up here at all and said what he said and hit Lucas. She’d seen evidence of it once when they fought. He got so mad, he threw a book across the room. She hadn’t liked his actions at the time, and that might have been what took any remaining feelings she had for him. That kind of violent outburst scared her. But he’d never done anything like that again, and he’d never turned his violence toward her.
She had wondered about Matthew, and now she was forced to wonder it about Lucas, too. It was one thing to defend the people you loved and fight for them. But how far would those same people have to go before the violence was turned on them? Wasn’t that what attracted women to those bad boy types? The possibility of danger?
What if Lucas lost his temper with Jackson? She’d never seen him get too mad at his son, but he was only six. What happened when he was a teenager, when he was a man, and angered his father? And even if he never laid a hand on Jackson, how would this affect the boy if something happened and he saw his father act so violently?
They could be anywhere. Out shopping, out at the zoo like Jackson was today, or waking down the street. Someone might attack them and Lucas would defend them. But then Jackson would see this side of his father. It might affect him negatively. He could grow up to be just as violent and angry. Without having a mother to soften him, what would something like that do to Jackson?
Then she thought of his mother. Her sister, who had died tragically in an accident at home. An accident where she’d fallen. Tripped down the stairs. It was common enough. And Lucas had been so visibly broken up that no one questioned it. The police hadn’t even. But now that she thought about it, wasn’t falling down the stairs one of those things people said to cover abuse? To cover murder?
What if they’d been fighting and she’d said something that made Lucas mad? What if he’d reacted without thinking and pushed her and she’d just happened to be too close to the stairs and went tumbling down? She’d landed too hard and had broken her neck. That was the official report. But what if she landed so hard because she’d been pushed on purpose? What if Lucas’s emotional display was just good acting? Or his show of guilt for killing her?
A coldness swept through Isabella. She didn’t want to think these things about him. She loved him. He was her sister’s husband, the father of her nephew, the man she wanted. She’d known him for so long and had loved him for just as long. Was that why this was so upsetting to her? That she had known and loved him so long, but had no idea he was capable of this? What else was he capable of that she didn’t know?
And now she had to go back to his house with him, to live there with him and Jackson. She shouldn’t be afraid. She shouldn’t have to worry about her safety or Jackson’s, but she did. At least one thing good would come of it. She could be there to witness more closely how he treated Jackson, if he ever reacted badly to the boy. She could protect her nephew. She just hoped she never had to.
She used the situation with Matthew, and all the unpacking she had to do as an excuse. When Lucas wondered why she was quiet and seemed upset, she said she couldn’t stop thinking of what Matthew said. She stayed in her room alone, claiming she had to unpack.
She came down for dinner and happily spent a few hours with Jackson as he got ready for bed. Nothing seemed different about Lucas on the surface. But underneath, in her heart, everything had changed. She felt like she didn’t know him at all. She felt like she loved a stranger.
“Where did they take Matthew?” she asked him later, as they left Jackson’s room after putting him to bed.
“Just to a hotel to sleep it off. They’ll make sure he’s okay and that he doesn’t bother you again.”
She nodded. “Was he hurt badly?”
“No. Noses bleed a lot, but I didn’t hit him too hard. I’m sure he’ll be feeling crappy, but that was the point. I needed to make it clear that he was not to contact you under any conditions. I don’t want you to be afraid of him.”
She pressed her lips together. “No. I’m okay. I’m just really tired. Thanks for all your help.”
“Anytime.” He smiled at her.
She tried to force a smile, but turned and hurried away. When she got to her room, she changed, then lay down in bed, wide awake. She kept seeing Lucas punch Matthew over and over, seeing the blood and his limp body. She closed her eyes, but saw her sister falling and Lucas at the top of the stairs, hands out. She didn’t sleep much that night.
When she woke, she knew she had to do something. She couldn’t just go on wondering about Lucas, wondering about her sister’s death. She had to do some research and try to get answers.
It was Monday, and usually, Isabella came to watch Jackson while Lucas went to work. It was just like any other day, she told herself. After she and Jackson had eaten breakfast, she got him dressed and drove to the library. She got him settled in the children’s section, playing with the puppets and other toys, then went to one of the computers and started searching.
She began at a web site for violent offenders and entered in Lucas’s information. This site was supposed to tell her if he had ever committed a violent crime. Nothing came up. Though, he’d just done something violent to Matthew and no one knew about it, so that wasn’t enough by itself. It was a good sign, but it was only proof that he hadn’t gone so far as to be charged or arrested for violence.
She did some more searching on him, photos and articles, to see if anything was revealed that wasn’t in the criminal database, but she found nothing. Next was her sister. She went back over the articles in the paper at the time of Abigail’s death. But what she really needed wasn’t there. She needed to see a photo. To determine, if she could, the angle that she’d been pushed from, and to see if she had other bruises on her body.
She knew on some level that a coroner would have found those things. But what she didn’t know was that if there had been proof that he’d killed her, if Lucas could have had it covered up by paying someone off. Lucas was powerful with his name and money. People did what he wanted. It seemed very possible that if something came up, it would have been hidden.
Isabella thought that maybe she could contact the coroner herself. As Abigail’s sister, that had to get her the rights to some information, didn’t it? She opened her email and went back several years. She had kept every bit of correspondence from that time. It was in a folder in her inbox that she never looked in. But now she opened it and found the coroner’s information.
She sent an email back from the latest correspondence she had.
“Hello Mr. Lane. I’m the sister of Abigail Reid, whose case you had five years ago. I’m looking for photos of her body and any reports you can give me on her death.”
She thought she would need a good reason. Something that wouldn’t raise curiosity. Something that would make him want to cooperate. It took several minutes and many bad ideas before the lightbulb went off.
She added, “There is a film company who wants to do a documentary on Lucas Reid, and they’re interesting in some visuals on her case. Any help you can provide will be greatly appreciated. They may also want to interview you, if you would be agreeable to that.”
She sent the email. Hopefully, it would appeal to him as a possibility for some glimpse of fame. Most people went for that sort of thing. For the chance to be seen. For the hope that money would follow.
It took three days for Mr. Lane to respond. She read the email standing in Lucas’s kitchen while Jackson ate apple slices for his afternoon snack.
“Hello, Miss Jenson. I remember this case well. I’d be happy to be of any assistance to you or the filmmakers. I’ve attached her files,
including photos. If you need a higher resolution print out, I have those available as well. Best of luck. I look forward to hearing from you again.”
So, it had worked. She made herself wait until she was alone. She wasn’t about to look at images of her dead sister while just standing here on a Thursday afternoon. That night, after Jackson was in bed and she’d told Lucas she couldn’t watch a movie with him because she was too tired, she went to her room and locked the door.
She brought up the email on her laptop so that she could see everything better. She started with the report. Everything seemed to be normal there. It was as she remembered. No evidence of foul play. Cause of death listed as accidental. No charges filed. No further investigation needed. Once she read the report, there was one thing left to do.
She took a few deep breaths, steading herself for what she was about to see. But nothing could have prepared her. She looked at her sister, still and waxy looking. Her eyes closed, her skin blotchy. She was still beautiful, even in death.
Isabella looked at every photo he had sent. There were places of bruising, but they matched the report that said she’d fallen and hit her knee, then her hip before hitting her head. Those were the only bruises she saw. A photo that showed the stairs—in Lucas’s first house when he’d just started making money—and Abigail’s body at the bottom. But she couldn’t tell if the body was in an unnatural position or not.
She closed the laptop and sobbed. It was horrible enough to lose her sister, then to think Lucas might have killed her. But to see it. The still body of the person she’d grown up with, who she’d shared so much with. This was why they didn’t give the family these photos. It was too upsetting. She’d never be able to get those images out of her mind. And she still didn’t know if Lucas was responsible in some way or not. Most of all, she had no idea what to do about any of it.
6
Lucas first sensed something was really wrong when he went to hug Isabella before leaving for work. They always hugged. But this time, she’d stepped away and waved to him as he said goodbye. He’d gone out of his way to go to her. It was his only excuse to touch her and he wasn’t going to waste it. He’d wrapped her in his arms and she’d stiffened. When he met her eyes, she looked away.
In the evenings, he had hoped they would get to sit and talk, to spend some time together. Pretending they were together, even if they couldn’t be. But she was always tired or had something to do. She was avoiding him. When he tried to talk to her over dinner, she talked to Jackson, but she would hardly look at him and only responded with short answers. She refused his attempts at real conversation.
For the first few days, he thought she really was just tired. She did have unpacking to do and likely the thing with Matthew was upsetting her. They hadn’t been broken up long, and their encounter hadn’t been the best. Maybe she was upset at what had happened. He even considered that maybe she wasn’t happy about Lucas hitting him and hurting him. Maybe she had enough feelings for him that she was worried.
But after a week, he had to do something. He had to get her talking and find out what was going on. He got home from work on Monday and they went about their usual routine.
He walked in and found Isabella and Jackson reading a book in the living room. He hugged Jackson and looked at Isabella, but she avoided his gaze. He didn’t try to hug her. He put his things in his office and took a deep breath to steady himself. Then, he went back to the living room.
“Can I talk to you for a minute in my office?” he said to her.
She gave him a wary look, but followed him back and sat down on the couch. He sat on the other end after closing the door.
“I know you’ve had a lot going on,” he said. “But something’s wrong here. You’re acting very differently toward me, and I need to know why.”
She dropped her gaze and picked at her fingers. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a lot.”
“Right. I get that. But why aren’t you talking to me? Why won’t you hug me or even look at me?”
She looked over at him as if to prove a point. “It’s not you.”
“Bullshit.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “I’m sorry,” she said, more adamantly. “I just called off an engagement, moved out of the house I lived in for over a year, and watched you beat the crap out of my ex.”
“Is that it, then? You’re pissed that I hurt Matthew?”
“No. I’m glad you were there, and I appreciate that you protected me. I mean, no, I’m not happy that it took you having to do that. I don’t want him to be hurt on purpose, but I saw him hit you first, so I know you didn’t start it. You were defending yourself and me. I’m not mad about that.”
He blew out a breath. “Then what’s the deal? We had a great time at the wedding, and that was even sooner after you ended things. It seems like everything changed after that day at your old place, and if it’s not because I hurt Matthew, then what is the problem?”
“It’s just settling in that this is my reality.”
“Do you regret ending things with him?”
“No.”
“Do you regret moving in here?”
“No,” she said. “I like spending the extra time with Jackson. I just need time to adjust.”
“Is there anything I can do to help or make it better for you?”
She shook her head. “You’ve done a lot already.”
“I hope you feel that you can talk to me.”
“Of course.” She gave him a small smile. “We’ve always been able to talk about things.”
“Until now.”
She looked away and he felt that there was still something there that she wasn’t telling him. But he couldn’t make her talk if she didn’t want to. He’d have to just keep going on, doing what he knew to do and hope it got better.
He was thinking of what else he could say when there was a knock on his office door. “Yeah?” he called.
“Mr. Reid, someone is here to se you,” Lisa said.
He wasn’t expecting anyone. “Who is it?”
“Two police officers.”
He shared a confused look with Isabella, then got up to leave the room. “Where are they?”
“On the porch. I didn’t let them in yet.”
“Thank you.” He went to the front door and stepped out, closing it behind him.
“Lucas Reid?” one of the officers asked.
“That’s me. What’s this about?”
“We’ve received a complaint against you from a Matthew Cole. He’s pressing charges for physical assault.”
Lucas wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. “That’s funny because he hit me first. And I have a witness that was there and can confirm that.”
“Who would this witness be?”
“Isabella Jenson, Matthew’s ex fiancé. She’s inside if you’d like to talk to her. We were at their house, getting her things, and Matthew showed up drunk, verbally harassed her, and then hit me. Yes, I defended myself, and I believe it’s my right to do so.”
The officer flipped through his paperwork. “He did admit to making the first move, but he’s claiming that you used violence beyond what was called for.”
“By who’s point of view? He was drunk. I doubt he had any idea what really happened.”
“Isabella is here, you said?” the officer asked.
“Yes. Shall I get her?”
“We would like to talk to her. Matthew didn’t mention that she was there.”
“Convenient,” Lucas said. He opened the door and called for Lisa. “Could you ask Isabella to step out here, please?”
Lisa disappeared and a moment later, Isabella opened the front door and joined them on the porch. The officers explained to her what had happened. She hugged herself and nodded as they spoke.
“Yes, I was there and saw what happened,” she said. “Matthew hit Lucas, and Lucas hit him back.”
“We’d like to take a statement from you,” the officer said. “And perhaps we could talk w
ith Miss Jenson a few minutes alone?” The officer looked at Lucas expectedly.
“Sure.” He nodded at them and went inside.
As soon as he was out of eyesight, he pulled out his phone. He wasn’t too worried about police interaction. He knew enough people on the force and gave them more than enough money to have this whole thing go away. But it pissed him off that he even had to. Who the hell did Matthew think he was to try and get Lucas charged?
He shot a text message to Joe, telling him that the police had come and he needed the contact information for the police chief of the city. He’d met him last year at a benefit, but couldn’t remember his name off the top of his head. He’d get this thing dropped quickly and quietly. If he was lucky, he might even be able to get Matthew on falsifying the situation. Make Matthew pay for both attacking Lucas and for trying to get charges brought on him.
He went to find Jackson and watched TV with him until Isabella came back inside. She looked upset and was still hugging her arms around her middle. He got up and went to her. He wanted to hug her, to find out what was going on, but he resisted.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She looked ready to cry.
“Come back in here a minute.” He gestured her into the office and handed her a tissue as she sat. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“It’s my ex. I should have gone over there alone and dealt with it.”
“No way. Don’t you dare apologize for him being an asshole. I would hate to think what would have happened if I hadn’t been there. He might have attacked you.”
“I don’t think he would. He was never violent before.”
“Did you think he’d hit me?”
“Well, no,” she admitted. “But he was drunk.”
“So who knows what he might have done to you.”
She was quiet for a minute. Then asked, “Are you in trouble? What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know if the charges will even stick after you told what you saw, but I’m going to talk to the police chief and get this all cleared up before the media can get a hold of it.”
