by Beth Flynn
He pulled her close before answering. “Of course I know, baby.”
Her eyes were closed, but Jonas could feel her smile against his chest when she asked, “Who took it, Jonas?”
“I did,” he replied with a snicker. “I’m just not stupid enough to bring it home with me.”
The last thing she remembered before drifting off to sleep was Jonas muttering under his breath. “The dumbass should’ve accepted my offer.”
Chapter 66
Time drifted by, but not without incident. Just because Jonas didn’t bring his work home with him, like the stolen motorcycle episode, didn’t mean he got away with everything. Jonas’ penchant for finding himself under the watchful eye of law enforcement appeared to be occurring at the same rate at which Lucy climbed her way up the corporate ladder at work. She no longer cringed when the law showed up at their home. Her husband was very good at covering his tracks. Unfortunately, he took a few hits that were even out of Anthony Bear’s reach to protect him. They’d been married less than two years when a judge denied bail for a weapons charge against Jonas. He’d sat in the county lock-up for two months, only to be released when the case was dropped.
Lucy would never know her husband’s two-month stint in jail was part of an elaborate scheme to make contact with and intimidate another prisoner who was awaiting trial. After the prisoner died of a heart attack, Jonas’ charges had been miraculously dropped and he returned home with a bundle of cash. He told Lucy it was payment for taking the fall and sitting in jail for another person who’d evaded the weapons charge. The truth was he’d been employed simultaneously by two people who had their own agendas for wanting to get to the prisoner in question. Unbeknownst to them, Jonas had been working both sides of the coin for two people he respected. He didn’t like being in the middle, so he did what he was supposed to do and kept his mouth shut. He’d never lied to Lucy before, but due to the sensitivity of the matter, he decided it was in everyone’s best interest to keep this one on the down-low.
A year later, it wouldn’t be a police visit that brought upsetting news on a Saturday afternoon, but a phone call from the hospital saying Jonas had been in a motorcycle accident. Lucy didn’t even remember driving to the same emergency room where she’d first encountered her husband so many years earlier. She found Anthony and two men who’d visited her home when Hobie was dying, pacing around the waiting room.
Before she could ask, Anthony blurted out, “I tried calling you when I got here, but you didn’t answer, so I’m assuming the hospital got to you first.”
Lucy nodded furiously and brushed her hair away from her face. “How bad is it?”
Anthony appeared grim. “A guy driving a van didn’t see Brooks in the lane behind him. When he changed lanes, the van’s back fender bumped Brooks’ front wheel. I’m not going to lie, Lucy. It could be serious. Brooks flew fast and hard and landed on his head. There was a lot of blood.” She started shaking and Anthony grabbed her shoulders. “But, the good news is he didn’t lose consciousness. They’re back there now doing scans to assess if there’s any damage. He was awake when they took him back and he made us promise to tell you he’s okay.”
“But he might not be,” Lucy cried. “What if there’s an internal injury like a brain bleed or—”
She didn’t get to finish the sentence as Anthony pulled her tight against his chest. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Besides, your husband has survived more than one accident with a bike. He’ll get through this one too. He’s too stubborn not to.”
It seemed like an eternity before they met with the doctor who informed them Jonas was a walking talking miracle. “Other than a concussion, a lot of stitches, and road rash that was deep enough to scrape away some of his tattoos, he’ll be fine. We need to keep him for twenty-four hours for observation.” When they asked if they could see him, they were told, “Yes, you can. And will you do us a favor and ask him to stop screaming at everyone that he wants to leave? We’re keeping him for his own safety and protection. The only reason he hasn’t charged out here now is because we hid his clothes so he can’t get dressed.”
“Might wanna rethink that, Doc,” Anthony said with a smirk. “It’s your staff that’ll need protecting if Brooks is forced to do something Brooks doesn’t want to do.”
“I’ll stay with him,” Lucy insisted. “He has a really hard time telling me no,” she added with a smirk of her own. “And I think it’s also a good time to revisit the helmet conversation.”
Jonas made a full recovery, and Lucy counted every day a blessing when he didn’t appear to have any more close brushes with death or the law. At least none that she’d been aware of. She didn’t know if it was the accident or the fact that Anthony Bear’s involvement in criminal endeavors seemed to be slowing down, but something caused Jonas to start taking more of an interest in the Bait & Tackle shop.
It was his reinvolvement with the family-owned business that caused Lucy to contemplate more than once on the feelings her husband kept hidden. Jonas had always been upfront with her about the things he’d done. He was honest almost to a fault. So much so, that she’d stopped asking about them a long time ago for fear of what she would hear. But, getting him to discuss deeper things was a battle she lost more often than not. Other than sharing the details of his parents and grandfather’s deaths, Jonas never delved further as to how that loss affected him. Lucy had been under the impression based on Jonas’ own words that he had acquaintances but no close friends. He may have given the outward appearance of that being true, but his actions with how he’d coped with Hobie’s illness told a different story. He’d avoided his dying friend like he avoided talking about the pain he’d experienced as a child. And when Lucy asked him if what Hobie had told her about faulting his stepmother for his father and grandfather’s deaths, it took Jonas all of one second to give a firm, “No.” And that had ended the discussion.
By the world’s standards, the union between a criminal biker and a distinguished scientist wouldn’t stand a chance. But their love was strong and their marriage thrived. Even though Jonas still liked to work a couple of nights a week at Ruthies and do whatever Anthony occasionally asked of him, it wasn’t enough, and so Lucy was grateful he’d gravitated back to the place that had been a staple of his youth.
Brooks’ Bait & Tackle was situated on a well-worn and popular corner of a thriving marina. Jonas rekindled his love of the sea and would take Lucy on occasional fishing excursions. She took it as a sign that maybe the pain he’d denied as a child might be slowly healing. She’d even been more thrilled that early on Lenny had warmed to his outlaw biker brother-in-law and recently spent some time with them on the ocean. Lucy would always have the warm memory of how ridiculously proud Lenny had been when, with Jonas’ help, he hauled in a two-hundred-pound goliath grouper.
It was by accident that Lucy made a startling discovery concerning Jonas’ elusive stepmother. He’d brought home some paperwork from the shop and was asking Lucy to double-check his work. She was reviewing check stubs and had to blink twice at the amount on one.
She adjusted her glasses and asked, “Eunice Sidwell gets the same check as you every six months? Is she the stepmother you never discuss?”
Jonas appeared disinterested. “I don’t discuss her because there’s nothing to discuss. My grandfather’s will stipulated that in the event of his death, the shop would go to my father. My father’s will stipulated that in the event of his death, the shop would be divided equally between his wife and son.”
“It says her last name is Sidwell and the pay stub shows an address in Ohio.”
“Right. She remarried right before we did and I think she moved away with her new husband about the same time.”
Lucy felt an overwhelming sense of despondency at Jonas’ lack of interest in the woman and couldn’t help but believe it was somehow connected to the death of his father and grandfather. She would’ve pursued the avenue of thought but knew he’d close her down just like
he’d done when she brought it up after Hobie died. So Lucy tucked away the discovery of Jonas’ stepmother in the recesses of her heart and hoped for a day when she might be able to actually meet the woman who now had a name.
Chapter 67
It was a mild summer afternoon by South Florida standards when Jonas received the first disturbing letter. He’d been cleaning his motorcycle in the open garage when the mail truck pulled up. He sifted through the letters as he made his way back to the shade of the garage when one in particular caught his attention. It was addressed in large, bold letters to Mr. Jonas Brooks, and there wasn’t a return address. He frowned after reading what was inside. On a plain white sheet of paper, the sender had written in all capital letters: YOUR WIFE IS A WHORE. The letter had been postmarked in Naples. He crumbled the envelope and letter in one meaty fist and threw them in the garbage. He assumed it to be from a woman he’d recently tossed on her ass at Camp Sawgrass. He’d been inside Anthony’s camp office and walked out to find the newcomer sprawled across his bike, completely nude. At the sight of his approach, she spread her legs in welcome while some of the onlookers laughed. They assumed it would be more entertaining to watch Brooks’ reaction to the woman than warn her of his earlier edict concerning his loyalty to his wife.
A quick ride to the camp immediately squelched his assumption. He’d learned his first suspect died of an overdose in the back room of a drug house the same day he’d found her draped across his bike. Upon learning of her death, Jonas made a decision to make sure he was home every day to check the mail before Lucy. She’d been working very hard and recently received another promotion. There were three candidates for two positions, two women and one man. The new positions would require some joint travel, so Jonas was secretly relieved when Lucy and another woman filled those slots. He didn’t have an issue with his wife traveling for work, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to not liking the idea of her traveling with a male co-worker. He remembered how he felt when he thought Brad and Lucy might’ve been seeing each other. It was a feeling he didn’t care for and wouldn’t want to experience again.
More letters arrived over the course of the next few weeks and they increased in their intensity without hinting at the perpetrator’s motive. Was it someone who had a beef with Jonas, or was Lucy the target of someone she worked with? Jonas decided he would need a little help from Officer Bruce Miller’s replacement.
“I had the envelope dusted for prints. There were several, including yours. I don’t know if you even suspected this, but one belongs to a guy where your wife works.” The officer handed Jonas an envelope.
Jonas was expecting to hear that if there was a match, the fingerprints would point to one of his illegal associates. He’d incorrectly assumed someone working with his wife wouldn’t have a criminal background. He’d been wrong. “What did he do?”
“His record was sealed because he was a minor, so I paid extra to get that.” He gestured toward the envelope. “Plus, I dug a little deeper beyond what you asked for.”
“You’ll be well-compensated,” Jonas informed him.
“Timothy Morton was into everything as a kid. Drugs, theft, vandalism. Even had an aggravated assault two weeks before his eighteenth birthday. Looks like he agreed to go into the military to avoid legal repercussions. It appears he straightened himself out. He must’ve had some smarts buried beneath all his adolescent tendencies toward criminal activities because he earned a couple of degrees while serving in the Army and after he was discharged. He hasn’t had so much as a parking ticket since. Why he’s harassing your wife, I can’t say. Maybe he’s targeting the other woman too. Has Lucy said if her co-worker has mentioned anything?”
Jonas shook his head.
“I’ll be glad to handle this scumbag for you. What do you want me to do?” the eager officer asked while punching his right hand into his left fist.
Jonas tucked the envelope into his shirt and climbed on his bike. “I’ll let you know if I need you,” Jonas told him before starting his motorcycle and riding away.
Three nights later, Jonas unexpectedly found the perfect opportunity to confront the man who’d been sending the harassing letters. After a late shift at Ruthies, Jonas decided to park his truck across the street from the upscale housing complex where Timothy Morton resided with his wife of six years. The information the cop reported said she was six months pregnant with their first child. From his vantage point at an all-night mom-and-pop grocery store across from the development, Jonas could see the front of the Morton residence between two houses that didn’t have privacy fences. He didn’t expect to actually lay eyes on Morton at this hour and was only there to familiarize himself with the neighborhood. So he was shocked when he observed Morton come out of the front door and climb into his car. Jonas started his truck so he could follow him but turned it off when he realized Morton was pulling into the vacant parking lot of the family-owned grocery. Jonas got out of his truck and approached the man’s shiny vehicle.
Timothy Morton had just slammed his car door closed when he sensed the approach of an ominous presence. Glancing at Jonas he said in a shaky voice, “Good evening.” He then looked at the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets, heading for the door.
“Let’s me and you take a walk,” Jonas said while roughly grabbing his upper arm.
“Don’t hurt me!” Morton cried. “I’ll give you my wallet and I won’t call the police. I’ve got a pregnant wife at home. I’m only here because she woke up with a craving.”
Ignoring his pleas, Jonas dragged him behind the building. “I don’t give a shit about your wife. I’m here because of mine.” He crudely shoved the man up against a concrete retaining wall. There was one dim light that crackled over the closed back door of the grocery. A dumpster sat next to it. The air was thick with the stench of rotten food and Morton’s unbridled fear. An army of rats scurried along the top of the wall.
“Who are you?” the terrified man stammered.
“I’m the recipient of your letters,” Jonas growled.
It took several seconds for recognition to take root. “You’re…you’re Jonas Brooks?” he choked out. Jonas was holding his throat so tightly it was barely a whisper.
Jonas let go and stood back. “And I thought you were supposed to be intelligent. But you’re obviously not even smart enough to try and deny it. Maybe your last name should be Moron instead of Morton.”
Gasping for air, Morton bent over while resting both hands on his upper thighs. “You’re married to Dr. Brooks? Dr. Lucy Brooks?”
“You find that unlikely?”
He peered up at Jonas. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
“I only have one question. Why?” Jonas asked before pulling Morton into a standing position.
Timothy Morton brushed a trembling hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean her any harm.”
“Bullshit,” Jonas interrupted. “You were trying to wreck my marriage. I’ll ask one more time. Why?”
The man swallowed thickly before saying, “I did it for Kim Caruthers.”
Jonas narrowed his eyes. “The other woman who also got the promotion?”
Timothy nodded. “She doesn’t know. I did it in the hopes it would cause Dr. Brooks some strife at home. Enough for her to either mess up enough to get the notice of our superiors or step out of the position on her own so I could have it. The job requires traveling, and I assumed in order to prove to her husband she wasn’t messing around, she would give up the job that involved her having to be away from home.” The man look resigned when he added, “I didn’t count on someone like you being her husband.”
“What does Kim Caruthers have to do with this ridiculous plan of yours?” Jonas wanted to know.
“We’ve been seeing each other for over a year. My wife doesn’t have a clue. Being Kim’s traveling partner would make it easier to—”
“Fuck a woman who’s not your pregnant wife on the company’s dime?” Jonas finished. He crossed his
arms. “You’re an idiot.”
“I can see that now. I’m sorry. Please tell Lucy I’m sorry. Or I’ll apologize myself at work tomorrow.”
“Lucy doesn’t know. She’ll never know because you and I will settle this tonight. This will go one of two ways and it’ll be your choice.” There was a tension-filled pause. “Bad.” Jonas scowled at the man. “Or really bad.”
Timothy Morton started to visibly tremble.
“Do you want a hospital visit followed up with at least six weeks of physical therapy after tonight’s mugging?” Jonas let the question hang in the air for effect. “Or do you want fifteen to twenty years in the slammer for possession?”
“Possession of what?”
“Possession of the heroin the police will find in your car,” Jonas matter-of-factly informed him.
“No. Please. I have a baby on the way,” Morton cried.
“You should’ve considered that before you wrote those letters. Unfortunately for you, you messed with the wrong husband. Consider it a life lesson. Too bad your wife won’t know who to thank for calling out your cheating ass.”
Chapter 68
Three nights later, Jonas and Lucy sat beneath the stars in their backyard. The inky sky matched the color of her bathrobe as a warm breeze rustled the trees.
“And he doesn’t remember anything?” Jonas innocently asked his wife.
“Nothing. Or if he does remember, he’s not saying. It’s a shame. He’s got some serious injuries and is going to be laid up for quite a while.” Lucy took a healthy sip of her herbal tea. “The timing couldn’t be worse for his career. They wanted to offer him my position, but they’ll have to give it to someone else now.”