“But I don’t hardly ever see you here.”
“No need. You and Jenay have it well in hand.”
“We do,” Donald said happily.
“So what’s up?” Jenay asked.
“Good news. I convinced Talmar Industries.”
Jenay smiled and high-fived Donald. “That’s great news, Donnie!” she said in triumph.
“And what’s this about?” Charles asked.
“Donald came up with this great idea. He suggested we contact major businesses around Maine and a few other states, find out when they plan to have their next convention or retreat or whatever, and recommend Jericho Inn.”
“I promised to give them a better deal than the hotel they were thinking about,” Donald explained, “only we would have far superior accommodations. I just started this project a couple days ago, but it’s been a great success.”
Charles smiled. “Well that’s very impressive son,” he said. “Congratulations.”
Donald beamed. “Thank-you, Daddy.”
“I’m very proud of you.”
Donald nodded. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
“Sit down,” Charles said. “Join us.”
Jenay beamed this time as Donald joined them at the table.
“Jenay told me she’s been thinking about promoting you.”
Donald couldn’t believe it. He looked at Jenay. “Really?”
Jenay smiled. “Really.”
“To what? Assistant Manager or something like that?”
“General Manager,” Jenay said. “My number two.”
Donald’s heart leaped with joy and he jumped up, ran around the table to Jenay, and hugged her grandly. He hugged her so hard that he nearly caused her to fall out of her chair.
“Hey, take it easy, boy,” Charles said as he reached for his wife. “I know you’re happy, but take it easy. That’s a precious lady there.”
“She sure is,” Donald said with a smile, and then sat down beside Jenay.
And they talked, about the position Donald could occupy at the Inn, about his new program, until knocks were heard on the door, and Megan peered inside. “Sorry to disturb you,” she said.
“What is it, Meg?”
“That man from last week is here to see you, ma’am.”
Jenay frowned. “What man from last week?”
“He says his name is William Stiles.”
It was Charles’s time to frown. He looked at Jenay. “What does he want?” he asked.
“Who knows?” Jenay responded. “Send him in, Meg,” she said.
“Who’s William Stiles?” Donald asked.
“One of your mother’s old friends,” Charles said. “An asshole from way back.”
“The man your father knocked out cold,” Jenay said.
Donald shook his head. “I’ll bet it was because he hit on you. I told you he’s so possessive when it comes to you.”
Charles looked at Donald. “That’s nonsense,” he said.
Donald smiled. “If you say so.”
Willie Stiles entered the office. Charles placed his arm across the back of Jenay’s chair without realizing he had done so. But Donald saw it, and smiled.
“What do you want, Willie?” Jenay came straight out and asked him. He was smiling, but she wasn’t.
“Is that any way to talk to an old friend like me?”
“What do you want?”
Willie exhaled. He knew Ashley wasn’t stupid enough to tell, that was why he felt comfortable coming here today, but he also knew he had to play this just right. “I came to apologize,” he said to Jenay. “I spoke about our history, I lied about our history, and I want to apologize to you.”
Jenay did not expect that. But it didn’t matter. “Anything else?” she asked.
“Come on, Nay. This is Willie here! We go way back! You know I was just playing around. You know I respect you to the upmost. You’re going to let one stupid comment ruin our entire relationship?”
“Yes,” Jenay said. “Now is there anything else you wanted?”
Willie exhaled. He had to pull out his backup plan. It would fail the test if they delved deeper, but it would at least give him more time. Ashley was under his command now. She was so terrified of him that all he had to do was threaten to harm her family, and she’d do anything he said. Including lying about her mother and ruining her mother’s reputation. But he needed time to get her to that point. “Yes, as a matter of fact,” he said, “I have a business proposition for you.”
Charles frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about part ownership of an NFL franchise, if you guys are interested.”
Donald nearly jumped out of his seat. He looked at his father. “What?” he asked. “We can own an NFL team?”
Charles and Jenay looked at each other, and then looked at Willie. “Boy bye,” Jenay said. “You must take us for fools.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Ah, no,” Jenay said. “Now get your raggedy ass out of my office.”
But just as Jenay ordered him out, Ashley walked in.
Donald smiled. “Ashley,” he said and as soon as he said it, Willie turned around. And Ashley stopped in her tracks. She even stumbled back in shock.
Charles frowned. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked her.
But Ashley was too stunned to speak.
He gave Ashley a hard look, as if to remind her that she’d better not say a word, and that look he gave her, and that threat he told her that still hung over her head, gave her back her voice. She didn’t speak, but she reached into her handbag and pulled out Sprig’s gun.
Everybody stood from that conference table: Donald, Charles, and Jenay. Ashley pointed that gun directly at Willie Stiles.
“Ash, what are you doing?” Donald asked her. They were all thrown, but he was mortified.
“You raped me,” she said to Willie.
“I raped you? Are you serious?”
“You raped me!”
“That’s a lie and you know it!”
Charles remembered the last time she cried rape, and how foolish that little stunt was. But for some reason, he didn’t think this was a stunt at all. Ashley had her issues, but she wouldn’t pull a gun on a man for the hell of it. And where in the hell did she get a gun?
“You can deny it all you want. But I know the truth!”
“And I know what I did and didn’t do!”
“Ashley,” Charles said. “What are you talking about?”
“He took me to his house last night, and he raped me, Daddy. He forced me to do all kinds of things, and he raped me! He said he’ll kill everybody if I told. Now I’ve got to kill him.”
“Oh, Lord, no, Ashley,” Jenay said, attempting to go to her.
But Charles pulled his wife back, and began walking toward Ash instead. Donald followed him.
“He raped me,” Ashley said again. “He brutalized me!”
“Give me the gun, Ash,” Donald said.
“Now it’s my turn.”
“Ashley,” Charles said, still moving toward her. “Put it away. Put it away, baby, and we’ll handle this.”
But Ashley was shaking her head. Tears were falling down her face. “He’s got to pay. He can’t get away with this.”
“And he won’t. I’ll handle it, sweetheart. But you have got to put that gun away.”
“He destroyed me, Daddy. He destroyed who I am! I wanted to die last night. And if he lives, I’ll die, I know I will. I can’t live like this. I can’t live with him anywhere on the face of this earth. I’ve got to do it. I’ve got to!”
But Donald moved ahead of his father and went to her side. “Give it to me, Ash,” he said to her. “You don’t want to do this.” Ash was crying. “You don’t wanna ruin your life over a lowlife like him.” Donald reached out his hand. “Give it to me,” he said. “Ashley, give the gun to me.”
Ashley looked at her brother and best friend. “He raped me, Donnie.”
“I
know.”
“I’m not just saying it this time. He raped me!”
“I believe you. I know you wouldn’t pull a gun on this man if it wasn’t true. I know that, Ash. But you can’t do this. Please give it to me.”
Ashley looked at Willie again. She could see his heart pounding. He wasn’t as tough as he pretended to be. And suddenly, with Donald there, with her family there, she wasn’t as terrified as she had been. But she was still determined. She pointed that gun ready to pull the trigger, but that was when Donald knew he had to act. He wrestled it from her. He took possession of the weapon.
And Willie exhaled. And his arrogance, once again, took over. “Lying bitch!” he said to her.
“I’m not lying,” Ashley said. “You raped me!”
“I gave you what you wanted,” Willie said, and everybody looked at him.
“I told you to stop.”
“But your eyes didn’t. You didn’t want me to stop and you know it. You wanted me from the moment you laid eyes on me. And I gave you what you wanted. You wanted it!”
As soon as Willie made that declaration, admitting he raped Ashley and seeming not to even realize it, Donald pointed Ashley’s gun at him and shot him straight through the chest. The silencer was on, and Sprig was right: there was nothing more than a whiff of a sound.
Everybody was stunned, but none more so than Willie. He clutched his heart and looked at Donald. “You shot me,” he said as the blood began to pour.
Charles hurried over to his son and took the gun away from him. Jenay could hardly believe her eyes.
“You shot me,” Willie said again.
“I gave you what you wanted,” Donald said to him. “You wanted it.”
And Willie became woozy and dropped down. Ashley fell into Donald’s arms. And Jenay hurried to both of them, and pulled them into her arms.
Charles went over to the office door and closed it. Then he looked at his son.
“He couldn’t get away with that, Dad,” Donald said. “And he would have gotten away with it. They wouldn’t believe Ash. You know they wouldn’t.”
Charles stared at Donald. At his manchild who was now just a man. Charles pulled out his cell phone, and called 911.
Jenay was distressed. Donald and Ashley were distressed. But they knew Charles was in charge. Whatever he decided, was what was going to happen.
Charles walked over to Willie. He was still alive, but barely. He knelt down to him.
“Help me,” Willie was saying in a voice so faint it was barely audible.
“An ambulance is on the way.”
He was holding onto his chest, as if he could staunch that amount of flow of blood. “I didn’t do it right. I never do it right. I was supposed to ruin Jenay, not her daughter. But I thought . . .”
Jenay looked at Charles. Did he get that? Charles frowned. He got it. “Somebody hired you?” he asked, stunned himself.
But Willie was still engulfed in his own self-pity. “I never get it right.”
“Who hired you?” Charles asked again. “Did Matt Dellum hire you?” Was this a part of Dellum’s destroy the Sinatra brand scheme?
“I need a doctor!” Willie said with more force.
“Who do you work for?” Charles asked again. “You work for Dellum?”
“No.”
“I’ll get help if you talk. Now tell me who do you work for?”
“I don’t. . .”
“Who Stiles? Is it Matt Dellum?”
“Paige,” Willie said. “Paige Springer hired me.”
Charles and Jenay both were stunned. “Paige?” Jenay said, floored.
“Why would Paige Springer hire you?”
“Help me,” Willie said, but his voice was even more faint. “Help me.” And then he moved his mouth, but no words came out. And then his eyes closed. Charles felt his pulse. He was dead.
Charles stood erect. They could hear the sirens in the distance.
“What are we going to do?” Jenay asked him.
“Sit down,” he ordered. “All three of you.”
Jenay didn’t know what was going on in Charles’s head, but she escorted Ashley and Donald to the conference table and, as he had ordered, all three sat down. Charles began pacing, his mind in deep thought.
“He did what he felt he had to do, Charles,” Jenay said. “That man raped Ashley. He admitted it.”
Charles looked at her. “I know that. What are you telling me that for?”
There was a hard edge to Charles’s voice, and Jenay knew to back off. He was going to have to figure this out for all of them. Donald’s future was in his father’s hands. Jenay looked at Donald. He was terrified, and probably scared too, but defiant. Ashley was just scared.
“Who gave you the gun?” Charles asked Ashley.
Ashley didn’t respond.
“Who gave you this gun?” he asked again.
“What are you doing?” Donald asked her. “Tell him. He’ll help us.”
Ashley frowned. “Aunt Sprig,” she said.
Charles had hoped that was the case. Sprig had many guns, but none of them were registered. He thanked God for her right at this moment in time.
“Is he right hand, or left hand?” he asked his wife.
“What?” Jenay asked.
“Is Willie Stiles right-handed or left-handed?”
Jenay had to think about that. “Right-handed,” she said. She would have noticed if he was a southpaw.
Charles walked over to Willie’s lifeless body, placed Willie’s right hand on the gun, and then placed the gun by that hand.
Then he waited.
They waited.
It would take a several more minutes, but the Jericho Police, led by Brent himself, entered the office. After removing the family to a different office, Brent and Eddie Rivers closed the door. They both knew they should have separated the witnesses, but they also knew they didn’t have to. There was no law against interviewing witnesses together. And Brent’s instincts, which never failed him, told him to keep the family together.
“What happened?” Brent asked his father.
“I got into an altercation with Willie Stiles a while back,” he said.
“About what?” Brent asked.
“Jenay. He claimed to have been intimate with her, I took exception to that, and we got into a fight. I won.”
“Anybody see this fight?”
“Megan saw it. It was here at the Inn. Outside.”
Nobody knew where Charles was going with this, but Jenay, Donald, and Ashley remained silent.
“What does that have to do with what happened today?” Brent asked his father.
“He came here to finish the fight. He didn’t like the outcome. And he pulled that gun on me. We got into a scuffle, and the gun went off.”
“So you’re saying it was self-defense?”
Charles nodded. “That’s what it was,” he said.
Brent looked at Jenay. “What do you say?” he asked her.
“Self-defense,” she said.
“And you?” Brent asked Ashley.
“Self-defense,” Ashley said.
Then Brent looked at his kid brother. “What about you?”
“It was self-defense,” Donald said.
Brent continued to stare at Donald and Ashley. His father was protecting one or both of them, he could feel it in his bones. And that wasn’t like his father. You did wrong, you paid. He didn’t care who you were. That was his father’s motto. Unless that Willie Stiles did something worse.
“Okay. We have four people claiming it was self-defense, and one dead body. This should be an easy one.”
“You mean,” Jenay asked, “you aren’t going to arrest anybody?”
“No. It’s not illegal to defend yourself. And if Megan can confirm that she saw Dad and Willie Stiles get into it at the Inn previously, then there’s nothing to prosecute. They’ll be no arrest.”
Everybody inwardly sighed relief. It wasn’t any kind of victory, because a m
an was dead. But it was the best outcome they could have hoped for.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Paige Springer answered her door shocked that Charles and Jenay would have the nerve to come anywhere near her. And when she opened the door, he didn’t ask to come in either. He and that wife of his barged right on in!
“Who do you think you are, Charles Sinatra?” Paige asked her former lover. “This is my home!”
“Willie Stiles,” Charles said. “Sound familiar?”
Paige didn’t respond. And Jenay and Charles both knew why. “How do you know him?” Jenay asked her.
“What about him?” Paige asked, not willing to give any information.
“How do you know him?” Charles asked.
“I asked around in Boston and his name came up as one of your ex-lovers. That’s how.”
“He’s not my ex-lover. But you knew that.”
“He’s dead,” Charles announced.
Paige was stunned. “Dead? You killed him?”
“Why did you hire him?” Charles wanted to know.
At first, Paige refused to answer. Charles asked the question again. “Why did you hire him, Paige?”
Paige smiled. “Pay back,” she said.
Jenay was stumped. “For what?” she asked.
“First you took Charles away from me, and now you want my title. That’s what!”
Jenay frowned. “What title?” she asked.
“Founder’s Day Queen, what title do you think? I have been Queen for eight of the last ten years. You will not take that away from me!”
Jenay was floored. “Are you serious? You hired Willie to try and destroy my family so that they wouldn’t select me to be Queen of some stupid-ass parade? Are you kidding me?”
“Minimize it all you want,” Paige said. “It means everything to me!”
Jenay couldn’t believe it. She was so thrown that she turned to Charles. What was wrong with these people?
Charles stared at Paige. “You’ve always been petty,” he said, “but this takes the cake. So she threatened your little crown, and you decided to destroy her? And was willing to pay to see it through.”
“That’s right.”
“No, that’s wrong,” Charles said. “Because it didn’t work. Because on Founder’s Day, Jenay will be the queen.”
Jenay looked at him. Paige looked concerned. “What are you talking about? She turned them down. They said she turned them down.”
Big Daddy Sinatra 3: The Best of My Love (The Sinatras of Jericho County) Page 19