Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

by Lisa Ann Porter

  Not knowing quite what to say with so many questions buzzing in her head, she went to stand next to him, hugging him from behind. Turning to his daughter, holding her away from him at arm’s length, George saw Jennie. Oh how he missed Jennie, he thought. Sometimes it hurts to look at his own daughter.

  “You are the very picture of your mother,” he said in a whisper. “…I still love her…I always will.” Gently embracing Sable, George breathed as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

  Releasing her, turning toward the windows, he placed both hands on the ledge, as his plans for the Chadwicks echoed afresh in his mind. The blank look in his eyes, was a total contrast to the way his fingers gripped the window ledge. He was angry. Very angry. It was rare that her father got this way. Control. He always had control. Stephen sat silently watching. Listening.

  For the first time in her life, she was afraid for her father. She had never seen him this way. She gently touched his shoulder. “Daddy? I don’t know what you have planned, but is it worth it?”

  His eyes pierced hers, almost making her flinch from the intensity. She had seen that look in his eyes before. “No, don’t answer me yet. Very few people know the Chadwicks for who they really are.”

  Stephen remained quiet, and watched them both closely. “Daddy, this is an important project,” she paused. He said nothing. “You’ve worked very hard to get where you are…what are you planning? Is it worth what it could do to you or to your company?” He heard the deep concern and love for him in her voice.

  For the longest time, he said nothing. The clock chimed. Looking at her as if he had not heard one word she said, he gently touched her on the cheek. Again, Jennie’s face flashed in front of him with full intensity, along with the vivid memories of his mother’s death.

  “Yes,” he said with calm certainty, and then walking across the room, he sat next to Stephen. Concern for him was etched over Sable’s face.

  Lacing his fingers as his arms rested on his knees, he rolled his shoulders releasing the tension that swelled up inside of him. His eyes went back and forth between the two of them, “I want you both to know that I am not risking my company or myself,” he said calmly. “I’m simple exposing Joseph Chadwick for the murdering, lying, cheating bastard that he is.”

  Everything about his demeanor said that no one, not even Sable, would talk him out of what he had planned for years.

  Sable did not know what to say. Stephen sat in quiet contemplation, wrestling with his own feelings and thoughts.

  “Stephen?” Voice filled with question and knowing, “Your opinion on what I just said?” George was asking softly as if he already knew.

  Taking a deep breath in and slowly letting it out, Stephen’s memories were still rare within him. He was not yet ready to reveal his feelings about the Chadwicks.

  “Are you absolutely sure neither you nor the company can get hurt from what you are planning?” He was stalling. He knew it. George knew it too. He also noticed that Stephen asked, ‘can get hurt,’ not ‘will get hurt.’ There is a difference.

  “Yes.” The answer was definite. Saying nothing else, he waited patiently and expectantly for Stephen’s answer. Stephen waited for more. He needed more. He had to be sure, but the look in George’s eye told him there would be no more explanations. The ball was in his court.

  Exhaling loudly, “All right Mr. Van Cleef,” pausing when George gave him a level look. Rephrasing, Stephen called him by his first name, as he sometimes did, stood slowly from the sofa, and took George’s place at the window, looking down below. “I trust your judgment, whatever you are planning; you have my full support.” His voice was quiet as if he was speaking to himself.

  What in the world was going on here, Sable thought, as she looked from her father to Stephen silently demanding to know what they knew that she did not.

  Turning, he saw clearly in George’s eyes, not only had he gained a friend for life, but also that George Van Cleef was not a stupid man.

  The look in George’s eyes told Stephen that George was not only doing this for him, but for Stephen as well. Stephen oftentimes wondered if George knew more about him than he had revealed. Now he knew for sure that he did.

  One day, he thought, when he was able to talk about it, he would tell both George and Sable of his painful past. The pain that sometimes still haunted him, especially when he was alone, just as George told both him and Sable of his.

  Bewildered, Sable looked from her father and then to Stephen. She was not sure what else was going on, but she knew something was. The two people she loved most in the world were about to do something she didn’t quite understand. Sure, she knew that the Chadwicks were scums, but this sounded serious. Deadly serious and she didn’t like it. She shivered feelings as if cold water were trickling down her spine.

  She understood more now why her father felt the way he did, but not Stephen. She thought he’d respected and liked the Chadwicks, but she was wrong. She was unsure of what was going on, but looking at her father and Stephen carefully, told her that the Chadwicks had caused them both great pains.

  What it didn’t tell Sable however, was that Joseph Chadwick, the person that she despised, and Stephen disliked, and her father wanted dire revenge, was her mother, Jennie father. And… her grandfather.

  Chapter 23

  Meanwhile at the hospital…

  “I don’t want to talk to you! I want to see my daughter this instant!” Jean Carter, yelling at the top of her lungs, was so hysterical the doctor told a nurse to prepare a tranquilizer to calm her down. “I don’t want to be calm, do you hear me! I want to see my daughter now!”

  Shoving aside the doctor with all her might against the reception desk, patients’ records waiting to be filled went flying in many directions onto the floor. Furiously stepping on all that were in her pathway, she marched toward Lorna’s room, glaring at a nurse, who had intended to stop her.

  Coming out of the men’s room, Reverend Thomas’ mind was still reeling from Jean’s accusations at church. Seeing patients’ charts scattered over the hospital floor like tile, gave him another sickening feeling in his stomach. Before he could turn around to go back into the bathroom, he heard the threatening tone in Lt. Brown’s voice, and stopped cold in his tracks. Clutching his stomach, he made his way over to Jean in hopes of calming her down…again.

  Be patient, he thought, as he pushed himself away from the wall. He was tired. Working two cases at a time, with no sleep for two days straight, could make a man do or say something he would regret later. Looking at Jean through red tired eyes, he mentally reminded himself that he was an officer of the law. Lt. Brown, in a voice deceptively quiet, had stepped into her path.

  “Mrs. Carter…you calm down now,” he said softly. “Your daughter has been through quite a lot, and we need some answers from you before we allow you in her room.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous,” she fumed, glaring at him with righteous indignation. No one was going to keep her from her daughter. She knew her rights.

  Saying with quiet authority, “no Mrs. Carter, it’s not ridiculous. You calm yourself now.” Lt. Brown thought, as he glared at Jean, I’d lock her up so tight she would not know what hit her. How dare the woman act as if she gave a damn about her daughter? Pinning her with his eyes, he thought, I should lock her up for putting her daughter through years of hell if nothing else.

  When Jean realized that she would not be allowed to see Lorna until she calmed down, she did. Taking out his notebook, after he was sure he would not have to wrestle her to the floor, “I don’t know how to ask this, so I’ll just come right out with it,” he paused for a moment. “Did you know that your husband had a criminal record?”

  Visibly shaking, “No! What do you mean record, what kind of record?” her shaking hands clutching at her throat.

  Seeing her eyes wide with fear, he knew they needed more privacy. “Mrs. Carter, we need to talk somewhere private.” Turning, he addressed Rev. Thomas. “Pastor…ah�
��ah Minister…” he was not sure how to address a man of the cloth, “…you’ll have to wait here. I need a moment with Mrs. Carter.”

  All during Jean’s hysteria, Rev. Thomas didn’t say a word. Everyone thought he was there as the family minister, so no one really paid him any attention.

  “No! He comes too,” Jean said, taking Rev. Thomas’ hand. Desperation clearly written all over her face.

  Lt. Brown, glancing at Rev. Thomas, then at Jean. “Okay Mrs. Carter…but know that what I have to tell you is not good.”

  The doctor allowed them to use one of the examination rooms. Jean was so anxious and nervous; Rev. Thomas had to hold her hands as they sat in front of Detective Brown. Lt. Brown looked at Jean with eyes of pity; he didn’t want to add more bad news on top of what had happened to Lorna, but there wasn’t anyway to avoid it.

  “Well”, he paused taking a deep breath, “before I get started, I want to say that your daughter is a lucky young lady. Mr. Butler got there just in time,” pausing again, “before she could be sexually violated.” He ended softly, unwilling to add more pain to an already painful situation.

  Jean let out a sigh of relief, but was still shaking and wild eyed. “Lt. Brown…is she…is she conscious yet?” Rev. Thomas asked, voice shaking from fear and relief.

  “No Reverend, no she’s not.” Rubbing at his tired eyes, “the doctors are keeping her sedated for now. Maybe with her mother here, we can get her to talk to us. We still don’t know everything that happened.”

  Looking between the two, noting how Jean held onto the reverend’s hands, as if he was her lifeline made him wonder. The woman must believe what she practiced. This is a novelty these days, he thought; maybe she did not know about her husband.

  Continuing in an authoritative voice, “I only have Mr. Butler’s story and from what we can see, it looks like your daughter, Mrs. Carter, was fighting for her life.” He made the last statement while looking directly at Jean. He wanted…no needed…to be assured that this woman did not willingly allow her child to be molested all those years.

  He needed to know that, despite all, mothers put the safety and welfare of their children first, regardless of what he had seen in all his years on the force. He had to believe that people still cared, or they were all lost.

  Jean said nothing. She sat staring at Lt. Brown, as if he had horns, and was going to eat her in at second. She looked like a cornered animal preparing for fight or flight.

  “Mrs. Carter,” he was trying to be patient. Lt. Brown inhaled and exhaled slowly, “your husband had a criminal record.”

  She was still looking at him as if he were from another planet, and was trying to figure out what kind of creature he was. Shaking his head a little, “Miss, I’m sorry to tell you this, but your husband was a convicted child molester.” Her sharp intake was the only thing that told him she heard everything he said.

  Jumping to his feet, this was too much Rev. Thomas thought, clutching his stomach because of the pain inside. A stunned gazed look had entered his eyes. Looking from the detective to Jean in blatant disbelief, his mouth had actually fallen open.

  Lt. Brown thought he’d never see the day when a person of the church, especially a minister could be shocked by anything going on in this world. Too many horrible atrocities of men happened every day. Hearing Jean’s stunned exclamation, Rev. Thomas turned his glaze directly on her. Surely she wouldn’t, didn’t, let that man harm her daughter…their daughter.

  “Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t know that he had a record!” She was getting hysterical again. Jumping to her feet, Jean started pacing the floor with frantic steps; each step more hurried than the next.

  Watching her with cautious eyes, Lt. Brown seriously wondered if Jean was perhaps a little unstable. The wildness in her eyes, and the way she paced the floor told him to proceed with caution.

  “Mrs. Carter? I have to ask this.” He did not want to proceed; sometimes his job really stunk, like now. Jean looked like she was going to jump out of her skin. “Was he molesting your daughter?”

  The veins in her neck popping out in violent protest, as Jean horrified, started screaming. “Her father would never do such a thing, never, never, never!” Arms clenching to her sides, head thrown back toward the ceiling, the look in Jean’s eyes mirrored that of an insane woman.

  Both Rev. Thomas and Lt. Brown looked at Jean with shocked disbelief. She was talking as if Henry Carter was a saint. “He would never hurt her! If she told you that, she lied! He would never hurt her!” looking to both of them, demanding they believe her.

  “Mrs. Carter,” Lt. Brown said with more anger than he intended, “your loving husband was caught trying to rape his daughter!”

  Whirling toward him, “You’re lying; he would never do that…” the venom in her voice lightly spraying his face. “Tell him Richard…tell him!” she pleaded with Rev. Thomas, pulling at his arms for his help.

  Taken aback by her anger, Lt. Brown could not believe what he was seeing, much less what she was saying. She was defending the man! Glaring at Rev. Thomas, “what’s going on here?” he demanded.

  “Tell him, Richard! Tell him you would never hurt your own daughter…” she started to hyperventilate, “…tell him!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, all the while trying to catch her breath. One of the nurses yelled for a doctor, who gave her a sedative. It was obvious to everyone that Jean Carter was in her own world.

  Nothing he was thinking showed on his face. Turning slowly toward Reverend Thomas, “okay Reverend, do you want to tell me what is going on here?” Lt. Brown inquired calmly. He was confused and he did not like being confused. He noted that the good Reverend, looked like he was about to pee his pants. From shock or fear, he wondered.

  Taking a deep breath, sitting down as if he had just put down a heavy load, Rev. Thomas, in a voice filled with disbelief and awe, quietly explained to Lt. Brown that not only was Lorna his child, but also that he didn’t find out until a couple of hours ago. From what he could gather from things, in Jean’s mind…Lorna’s father…him…did not hurt Lorna.

  Incredulously, looking from one to the other, unsure of who was the most insane of the two. “You are Lorna’s father?” Halting Rev. Thomas’ response, because he was very angry, “are you telling me Lorna doesn’t know that you’re her father?” Rev. Thomas, looking quietly down at his hands, said nothing.

  Looking up at the ceiling, as if it would help him to understand, “…and that slimy snake that has been molesting her for years,” he shook his head in total disbelief, pausing in his anger, “she’s been calling daddy with the blessings of her mother?” Lt. Brown asked incredulously, looking again from one to the other, unsure of whom he should shoot first.

  If he could get away with it, he thought as unveiled anger painted his face, he would put them both out of their pathetic miseries for what they have allowed Lorna to suffer.

  He just could not believe it, shaking his head again as the whole sick story played in vivid detail in his mind. Their selfishness has caused so much pain to an innocent, their own child. They both made him sick to his stomach.

  Finally able to speak, Rev. Thomas looking up, seeing clearly the look of disgust in Lt. Brown’s eyes, tried hard not to look down at his hands, which were now shaking from the raw emotions churning in his body. He knew the look all too well.

  He had seen it too many times on the faces of angry parishioners. “No, Lorna doesn’t know the truth,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

  The look of condemnation in Lt. Brown’s eyes, making him uneasy, he looked over at Jean lying as if asleep, and wondered what he was going to do. Not only does he now have a daughter, but also her mother is in need of help. Help he did not know if he could give.

  Snapping Rev. Thomas out of his thoughts, Lt. Brown, his anger now under control, asked calmly, “Rev? Do you think that she…” his head motioning to Jean, “…knew that Henry was a child molester?”

  “I don’t know.” He w
as still wondering what he was going to do. “I hope not…because if she did, she allowed her daughter, our daughter,” he corrected, “to be molested. Because of me…in her mind, he was not Lorna’s father. I am.” His voice echoing in pain, Reverend Thomas placed his head in his shaking hands, as silent tears glided down his cheeks.

  Lt. Brown wiped his hands through his hair in frustration. “Do you think that Lorna gave a damn about who was violating her? She was a child!” His words echoing the misery Lorna must have suffered as a child. And that same misery, followed her as an adult.

  He did not want to believe any mother would put their child through this kind of hell…especially not for a man…but the truth was staring him in the face, and it happened too often. What is this world coming to? He wondered again, shaking his head in blatant disbelief.

  Sitting down next to Rev. Thomas, who looked to be in deep distress himself, he too placed his head in his hands and closed his eyes. All the years of training don’t always help when you care, he thought.

  Nick had heard all the commotion and wondered what was going on; after all this was a hospital. Searching the floor, he saw Lt. Brown, Lorna’s mother and a minister. A minister! He spat.

  What? Did they think that Lorna was on her deathbed? His anger fueled at seeing Jean and Rev. Thomas. She might as well be, Nick thought grimly. Shaking his head, he went back into the room.

  Chapter 24

  Envisioning putting his hands around Jean’s neck and squeezing slowly, a slight smile spread eerily across Nick’s taut lips. Thoughts of killing Mrs. Carter were soothing his simmering anger. He wanted someone to blame because the person responsible was dead, and then Rev. Thomas entered the room.

  “She’s not dead yet…get out,” Nick said softly, his voice dripping with venom as he gave Rev. Thomas a look that should have killed him on the spot. He did not have much use for religious people.