BOMAW 4-6

by Mercedes Keyes

  "I see. He's not sleeping at night. That's why he's still in bed. Last night, I heard him up close to five this morning."

  Sylvia inhaled deep and long, then let it out slowly. Finally she said, "You owe me Jake... you know you do."

  Jake smiled, "Here we go! Pay back time - women! They never miss a beat!"

  The laughter in his voice made Sylvia smile. "We've learned from the best... men. So... on that note, I'm asking you - to help me out here. Get my husband through the next week, until I come home. Besides, I'll see him tomorrow."

  "At the funeral?"

  "Yeah."

  "How'd you know about that?"

  "Your mom - she asked me to come, in support of you, of the McPherson's - thatis who I am now."

  "Hmmm... I don't know about that one. No, I don't think you should show up. I don't think Shawn is going to want you there either."

  "I promised your mom I would be there."

  Jake shook his head thinking about it. "I can't tell you what to do, but I will let Shawn know your plans."

  "I don't want him to know I'm going to be there. I want to just show up, and then leave again peacefully until I come home."

  Jake burst out laughing, "You think you're going to show up there tomorrow and then just leave again? And he's going to let you?" Jake laughed some more. "How exactly is it you plan to carry that out?" He just had to ask.

  "You mom said, she would see to it that I'd be able to leave if I showed up."

  "Yeah... right... dear ol'mom - Sylvia... let me tell you something. I of all people, have no control over my brother. My mother would like to think that she does. He's a grown man, and you're his wife. What Shawn wants, Shawn will get. He, you see, was my teacher in that. I will do my part as you've asked - to assist. But be prepared to come home tomorrow if you show up at that funeral."

  "Jake don't say that, I promised your mom I would be there. I don't wanna break my promise to her." Sylvia worried her lip, nibbling at it, wondering if he were right.

  "Hey... I'll leave that between you and my mom. Just remember what you said, Sylvia McPherson. You most certainly are a McPherson and you're married to my brother... the oldest of the McPherson brothers... what you need to know, you'll soon find out about him. Gotta go, we have a lot to do today. When he wakes, I'll let him know you called. Whatever it is you needed this time to do, get it done lady... whatever you're doing... get it done."

  Chapter 105

  Saturday L. A...

  The sound of scratching at the door was bringing Deidre out of her sleep. She moaned and was in the midst of a stretch, a careful one - when the door opened and a black woman perhaps in her fifties entered carrying a tray with several things on it. Deidre stared for a moment confused.

  "Hi. You're awake! I'm Tracy - Mr. Franklin arranged for me to come and take care of you until you get safely on your feet. Anymore passing out - and you'll find yourself back in the hospital. How you feeling this morning?"

  "Emm - bit groggy." Deidre moaned trying to sit up and back against the headboard of the queen size bed. The room she occupied was 13 X 18ft, richly decorated in hues of mauve, maroon and ecru. The bed was incredibly comfortable with satiny soft, ecru sheets and fluffy pillows to prop up behind her, which Tracy was busy doing at the moment to help her into being more comfortable.

  "How's that?" She asked stepping away.

  "Wonderful... thank you."

  "Okay... I want you to relax back, and I'll be taking your blood pressure, and reading your pulse, and then... I have some wonderful food on that tray for you."

  "Can I wash up first please?"

  "It won't take me long, taking your blood pressure and reading your pulse, then you can."

  Having little choice, Deidre endured it and then rose immediately, feeling a bit dizzy but played it off because she felt uncomfortable not having brushed her teeth or washed her face yet, she was happy that there was a small washroom right in her room, that made things so much easier for her. Coming back into the room, Tracy was gone, but her tray of food was sitting and waiting at the small table that occupied the space in front of the window. She had a wonderful view. Sitting down, she lifted the dome to find a bowl of steaming malt-o-meal with butter melting in the center. She made a face. Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

  "Come in." She invited.

  "Good morning." Jeremiah started straight away as he came in, watching her as she sat at the table giving the malt-o-meal a disgruntled glare. He chuckled walking towards the table and sitting across from her. "Come on now, its not that bad. Excellent source of iron - help to build your blood up - good and strong, let's get it down."

  "Malt-o-meal?" Deidre whined. "I'd rather have liver."

  "Glad to hear it, you're having that for your lunch and you get to choose what for dinner."

  "Liver!? Yuck!"

  Jeremiah laughed. "I thought you'd rather have liver?"

  "I was just - oooh... do I have to?"

  "Yep... if you wanna stand on your own two feet without threat of toppling over, like last night. Dig in." He ordered mildly.

  With a sigh, Deidre stirred and then scooped up a portion on her spoon.

  "In an hour, detectives Johnson and Gleason will be here to ask you more questions. In warning, most will be personal question surrounding your family and the relationship you had with them, your mother and father that is."

  "That'll be a short interview." She answered off the cuff, spooning in another mouth full of the morning gruel, actually enjoying it.

  "Perhaps. Just so you know, they've questioned Terra. She told them about your fears, the reason you took out the power of attorney."

  Deidre nodded, continuing to eat.

  "Does that bother you? At all?" He asked.

  She shrugged, with little to say.

  "This is where you respond with, "My parents would never do such a thing!"..."

  She continued to enjoy her malt-o-meal.

  Jeremiah sat back inhaling deep and long, watching as she scraped the bowl.

  "That was delicious. I'll have to ask Tracy how she made that."

  "I made it." He commented easily.

  "You? So you cook as well?"

  "Yes... I do, I find it relaxing."

  Deidre chuckled shaking her head, "Shawn is a good cook too. I'm better than I use to be. I do really good salads." She offered.

  Jeremiah lifted a brow at being compared to Shawn, and couldn't resist asking, "Do you compare all the men you meet, to your ex-husband?"

  "To be honest, I haven't met many after him. Didn't want to. I apologize if I've offended you."

  "Don't worry about it - I suppose he's a nice guy. Met him when he brought your daughter to the hospital to see you. He's uh... a bit rough isn't he? Hadn't expected you to go for that type."

  "Don't let the look of him that day fool you. He's a highly intelligent man, a jack of all trades, with a degree in business, marketing and management. One helluva artist, with an established reputation in commercial arts and computer graphics - a degree for that as well."

  "I see... sounds like you're pretty proud of him."

  Deidre sat back in her seat, staring at Jeremiah. "I'm trying to talk about him less and less."

  "So you had it that bad for him, hm?"

  "He was my husband, as you know - we had a child together. Had I been wiser, we might still be together now."

  "He's remarried." Jeremiah pointed out.

  "Yes... he is. With another child on the way. My daughter cares a great deal for his new wife."

  "Who's black."

  "Doesn't matter... he's happy now. Or rather, is working to be."

  "When all of this is said and done, discovered and handled... what then for you?" He asked.

  "I don't know other than my plans for opening an herbal health clinic - who knows." She responded. "Thanks for the nurse, although I don't think I really need her. I'll be fine, it was my first day out."

  "It's just a precaution to be su
re."

  "Um... speaking of last night - what's going on with your brother? What about his request for a car?"

  "I've taken care of it, I told him to go shopping, pick one out."

  "That bill is mine."

  "I would argue with you on that except for the fact that I've already purchased him one."

  "I owe him for that one. He wrecked it saving my life."

  "Well I'm certain he'll appreciate it. Just make sure he gets insurance this time around. He didn't have any last time, claims he couldn't afford to pay it. As far as I'm concerned, he shouldn't be wanting to drive such a vehicle then."

  "You can't blame people for wanting better things in life than the ordinary."

  "Maybe not, but the better things in life cost. If you can't foot the bill, then you need to settle for the bill you can afford. He's thirty some odd years old and is wasting his life. Hanging out on the streets as if he were a teenager. He could have made something better of himself, he simply chose the lazy route and therefore, what you see - is what he is. Nothing."

  "Aren't you being harsh? He is your brother."

  "And I take care of him, believe me I do. I just tell it as I see it. He'll get a better profile from me when I see him do something better with his life."

  "Personally, I think he lacks motivation due to diet and nutrition. There are studies done on persons, or kids like him. They changed their diet, provided a necessary supplement and they took off, improving in their reading, concentration, and motivation to strive for better. The test were done on Black, Spanish and White children... results were the same."

  "Hmph." Jeremiah sat back, Deidre could see the cynicism in his expression.

  "You don't agree?"

  "Not that I disagree. Its just that there were no such supplements or special diets for me available, and I'm successful, will strive with everything I have to continue to be, no matter what. There are too many people, making too many excuses, when one need only rise and put into action what it takes to make success happen." He declared passionately.

  Deidre digested that bit of information while reaching for her juice and taking a sip. He could see her wheels turning, as he did so - he was able to steal a moment to gaze at her. With no makeup on... she had a spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks. He found them rather appealing. Her eye lashes were incredibly long, a soft sandy color, framing amber gold eyes that complimented her blonde good looks. Her mouth was small, with slightly thin, but shapely lips.

  "I know you have your reasons for feeling that way..." She finally considered, "...however sometimes... there are persons making no excuses... they simply don't have it in them to be anything more than what they are. You're one of the fortunate ones, something in the elements of where you were, and what you've learned has made the difference in you. Mind if I ask what that was, if you don't mind sharing it? The difference between your brother and yourself?"

  Jeremiah sat staring at her, wondering should he be totally honest with her, or would that be devastating to his plans? Unable to stop himself, he blurted out, "Your father made the difference I suppose in why I'm so different from my brother."

  "My father?" She asked gently, immediately her mind went back to when his mother worked for them.

  "Yes... your father. It is truly amazing, what positive things can come from hating someone as much as I hate him."

  "Because of your mother?" She asked softly, knowing.

  "Yes... because of her. Your father, is the ultimate honky... and nothing would serve me better, than to see him get what he truly deserves."

  "He had an affair with your mother?" She asked, stunned. She understood the term honky and what it truly meant, when used in the terms of Jeremiah speaking of his mother, it could mean only one thing... that her father had slept with her.

  "Yes... he did."

  "How... how do you know?"

  "I know... believe me I know."

  Before she could get another question out, there was a knock at her door, it was Tracy. "Mr. Franklin, there are detectives here."

  Jeremiah backed his chair and stood, "You should get dressed, I'll go out and speak with them until you're ready." He left the room, Deidre sat a moment going over what she'd learned in her mind. She knew that it was her father whom caused Jeremiah's mother to lose her job, she thought the suicide was due to financial fears and strain, apparently, it went a lot deeper than that.

  Right away her mind conjured the image of Maxwell Franklin. He was mixed. Trances of blonde in his hair and coloring. The look of his skin and his eyes. He had hazel green eyes. Her father had hazel green eyes. Her father stood about his same height. Deidre shook the thought and both images from her mind. She quickly made herself more presentable and went out for more questions from the detectives.

  "We're not going to keep you long. The questions are simple, first being, who's parent or lineage, legacy - inheritance of all B.W. finance fall to consecutively?"

  "My mother's side. Now that my grandfather is dead, everything falls within her power, should something happen to her, it comes to me."

  "And after you?"

  "My daughter, Angela."

  "So basically your father married into the money?"

  "Yes... he did."

  "I see." Johnson commented as Gleason scribbled taking notes.

  "Have you visited the hospital I told you about? The family clinic? Have you spoken with Dr. Valinchissvysik?"

  "Its on our list, we'll be dropping in there on Monday. We phoned and it seems the doctor is out on vacation, due back Monday."

  "I see... I didn't know detectives were out on Saturday's - don't you guys get a day off?"

  "That would be your friend there standing behind you. They get Saturday's off. We gather evidence, crack cases, for them to come off the golf course and free up the very ones we work through the weekends to jail."

  "I'm a corporate lawyer actually, not enough pay for me to defend felons. So I'm not your enemy."

  Johnson discarded his comment and asked Deidre, "Tell me something, if something happened to your mother, if something happened to you, who would then run the company? Certainly not your daughter, how old is she?"

  "She's 9 years old."

  "So who controls the family business then?"

  "My father."

  Johnson and Gleason glanced at each other, then nodded.

  "Do you think your father is capable of setting you up Ms. Wherrington?"

  "I would hate to think that he is capable of something so devious - but - here I am - instead of with them. I guess I must have my reasons."

  "Looks like we need to do a background check out him. See where he came from, and what kind of man he was before he married your mother."

  "How much longer do I need to be under security?" Deidre asked.

  "Frankly speaking, you might wish to consider hiring a body guard, two or three in rotating shifts."

  "You're kidding me? Why should I have to give up moving about freely?!"

  "To stay alive sounds like a pretty good one to me." Dt. Gleason commented, a bit sarcastically.

  Deidre glared at the female officer, not finding her comment at all funny. The officers directed the focus back on the questions they came to ask. As they did so, Jeremiah stood back with his mind in a whirl. What he'd known all along finally exploded clearly before him. There was no way that he would ever be able to have all of B.W. Finance - the Wherrington's entire strong hold... simply because, ultimately, it belong to Deidre... to Deidre's daughter - Angela. In order for him to claim all, he would have to inadvertently take it from them. Granted he knew there were other share holders, but the monopoly of the business belong to this woman before him and her mother. Having to face that fact, placed him in the frame of mind of, 'Now what?'He knew what. Had known all along what it would take. Suddenly here it was, the facts staring him in the face. In order to have all, take all, posses all - he must take her as well. Deidre Wherrington. Suddenly he understood, that he was puttin
g himself in the exact same predicament Oscar T must have been in long ago. To have the wealth and power of the Wherrington's - he must marry into it. While Oscar's motivations had obviously been due to greed and a longing for prestige. Jeremiah knew that his own motivations were no more honorable. He recalled the words he'd said the day before to his brother. "Have you no dignity? No pride than to stand begging for a car from a woman?!" What he was contemplating he knew to be no better than that, taking from her something that was rightfully hers. According to what he'd learned so far, and what he assumed her father was guilty of, she had more reason for revenge than he ever had. After all, his mother had chosen of her own free will to be Oscar T's mistress. He stood now wondering what right did he have of exacting revenge on the man for his mother committing suicide? Problem was, Jeremiah could not for the life of him, see his mother in such a state of mind that she would do such a thing. Knowing that she had two sons to care for.

  Jeremiah knew that now was the time to re-route his thinking. Make a slight change in his plans. Something told him, that if Oscar T. was capable of killing his own flesh and blood daughter, who was his mother that he should spare her? Right then Jeremiah determined that it must be so... his mother had not committed suicide, but in fact... she no doubt had been killed. Jeremiah now understood what his mission was to do. Expose Oscar T. for the murdering low life that he was. As of that moment, Jeremiah's path of revenge had changed. While the Wherrington empire would stand... if it were the last thing he did... Oscar T. would fall.

  * * *

  Wisconsin - Saturday afternoon...

  "Derrick - its Shawn... I need your wife's cell phone number." Shawn started off immediately. He was not a happy man right now. He felt mean and irritable. To hear that his wife had called earlier, while he was sleeping, and then to be told by his brother, that his mother had gone behind his back and coerced her into attending the funeral tomorrow did not sit well with him at all. He would speak with everyone else first, and then his mother last to calm down.