Jarillo Sunset

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Jarillo Sunset Page 19

by Constance Bretes


  Patrick nodded as he turned away from Vincent. He stopped and turned back, “Promise me you won’t ever interfere with police matters like that again.”

  “I can’t promise that, Patrick, but I’ll try.” Vincent smiled sadly.

  “Vince, if the sheriff finds out about this or hears you do anything like this again, he will have you arrested and in jail and then the peacemaker of the family will be gone.” Patrick stared at his brother, waiting for the words to sink in before he walked away from him.

  * * * *

  As Vincent was headed home he decided he’d drop by Char’s place and update her, and maybe spend a little time with her...if she wasn’t sleeping. He knew she was tired, as he was. He pulled up in front of her apartment building and walked to her door and knocked softly.

  A few minutes later, Char opened the door and smiled at Vincent. “Come on in, Vincent,” she said softly. “So, how did it go?” Char asked as she walked over to the couch and sat down.

  Vincent sat down next to her then swung himself around so he could lay with his head on her lap. She rested her right hand on his chest and with her left one she ran her other fingers through his hair.

  “It went okay. I told him what I knew, and what I had done, and he let me off. It’s odd though. I don’t know who attacked Greene. William called me as I was driving to the sheriff’s office, and he claims he didn’t do it.”

  “Really? Is it possible that Hunter just got into a fight with someone else?” Char asked.

  “Yes, I guess that’s possible. I don’t know who did it.” Vincent was just as mystified. “So what have you been doing?”

  “Not much. I did a little bit of work, and then dusted and vacuumed and mopped the kitchen floor.”

  “Hmm…you know, I could get used to coming home to you. It just seems so natural.”

  * * * *

  Char lowered her gaze and stared at him. The honesty on his face took her by surprise.

  Ever since they had gone to the Renaissance Festival yesterday, spending the time with Vincent and his family up to now, she’d felt complete. It melded well with her, and especially after the sex early this morning, she found herself feeling united as one with him. She was hoping for more of the same.

  “Yes, the past twenty-four hours have made me feel as if I belong and am a part of your family,” Char murmured.

  Vincent held her gaze captive as he remarked, “You’re a very beautiful, wonderful woman, Char.” He wrapped his hand around her hand on his chest as he continued to stare into her eyes.

  The quiet, reflective moment between them was interrupted by Vincent’s cellphone ringing. He reached down to his belt buckle and pulled out his cellphone, flipping it open. “Carter,” he said, still staring into Char’s eyes.

  Suddenly, he drew his gaze away.

  “What do you want now, Tammie?” Vincent had a scowl on his face. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that about your dad, but what do you want me to do about it?” Vincent sat up on the couch and moved the phone from his left ear to his right ear. “Your family should make the funeral arrangements, and I’m not part of the family anymore.”

  “You should help her,” Char said softly so that only he could hear.

  Vincent looked at Char questioningly.

  “She needs your help. You should go help her,” Char gently encouraged.

  He let out a sigh. “All right, Tammie. I’ll go with you or someone in your family to help make the arrangements. Where are you now?” Vincent flicked a gaze over at Char and put on a forced smile. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.” He snapped his phone shut. “This is the last thing I want to be doing,” Vincent mumbled to Char.

  “I know, but it sounds like she needs your help right now.” Char smiled sadly.

  “Well, after this funeral business, she’s going to have to find someone else to lean on. I’m tired of it.” Vincent got up and walked to the door.

  Char followed him, then reached a hand around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers.

  “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

  Chapter 19

  When Char arrived at the office Monday morning no one was there yet, and she was glad. She could get some paperwork done before going back out.

  Just as she was about to sit down, Don Stillwater walked out of his office and said, “Char, I need to talk to you. Come into my office.”

  “Okay.” Char went into his office and sat down. “What’s up?”

  Don kept his gaze on the papers in front of him and said, “Char, you are a very good realtor, and you have brought quite a few sales to this office, even during these difficult economic times. It’s hard for me to have to do this, but I’m going to have to let you go.”

  “What? Why? It’s not been a whole month yet. What did I do?” Char started and rushed through her questions all at once.

  “It’s not what you did or didn’t do. It’s about teamwork, and you’re not exactly a team player.”

  “Well, these men you hired are not the kind of men that are easy to work with. I can’t believe this! You’re firing me because I’m not a team player, and yet I’ve been harassed from day one.”

  “Char, I had to make a decision. There’s not enough money coming in, even with all your sales, and I can’t stay afloat here. I have debated this for the past several weeks. Between you and Mike...well, Mike fits in with the guys and gets along with them. You don’t.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Mr. Stillwater. Who has made the most money for you in this business, me or Mike?” Char wanted to know.

  “Obviously, you have. But I’m not basing my decision on that. Yes, we will miss the money you bring in to the business, but with one less agent to pay wages to, it will hopefully balance itself out and I can keep this business going. One thing about it, Char, your work is excellent, and I will be most happy to give you a good reference, wherever you go. I think there are plenty of other good realty companies out there that are far better places for you to work than here, and you’ll thrive at one of those companies.”

  “Your logic is flawed.” Char glared at him angrily. “You would rather fire me on the pretense of my not being a team player, but one who brings in the most money, than to fire someone who is underperforming. You could fire Mike and keep me, and you’d be ahead of the game financially. You know I wouldn’t stop working as hard for you. This is not fair, and it’s not right. You are as bad, if not worse, than those assholes out there that have done nothing but sexually harass me since the day I started, and they rarely work. I think you’d better hope I don’t bring charges against you and this company. I could drag you through the mud so long that any money you do make you’ll spend in legal fees.”

  Char stood and stomped out to her cubicle. She went through her briefcase, put everything in order in the file folders, and left them stacked neatly on the desk. She grabbed her empty briefcase and walked out. When she got in her car she was shaking so badly she could hardly hold onto the steering wheel. She was glad no one was around to see her. The tears were beginning to form at the corner of her eyes. She pulled out of the parking lot and drove home.

  On her way home, her cellphone rang and she looked at the caller ID number. Great, just what I need now, to talk to the sheriff. She answered the phone, “Char Johnson.”

  “Hello, Char, this is Sheriff Turner. I wanted to let you know that we made an arrest this morning for the murder of your friend Dennis Harrison.”

  “You did? Who was it?” At that point Char didn’t really care who it was, she only cared that the guilty party had been arrested and would be brought to justice.

  “It was a guy who’s been on our radar for some time, known as a drug pusher on the streets in the neighborhood where the victim was found. He said he’d been living in the house since it went back to the bank and the victim broke in, looking for a place to stay, and they started peddling drugs. The perp thought the victim was holding out on him on some money and shot him execution style. After we lai
d out all the evidence we had against him, he ended up confessing.”

  “So, does this mean I’m no longer on your radar?”

  “Correct, you are no longer on our radar,” the sheriff said.

  Char wanted to scream into the phone at him, and yell at him for thinking she was a suspect in the first place, but she held herself in check. When she got home, she would explode.

  When she entered her apartment, she slammed the door shut and threw her briefcase across the room. She stormed over to her recliner and sat down, grabbing a tissue from the box to wipe her eyes. She couldn’t believe after all the work she had done for that man and his company, that he would fire her. She wasn’t worried about getting another job, she was just disgusted that she had spent the past two years trying to make it work. Those two years she could have spent at a better company, with better perks, where she would have been treated with respect.

  Tears began to well up in her eyes again as she thought about everything. She wasn’t hurt so much as she was angry. She was angry at Don Stillwater, angry at the men that worked there, and angry at herself for wasting her time there. She let out a loud yell and threw a throw pillow across the room. Her cellphone rang, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, so she let it go to voice mail, not bothering to look at it to see who was calling.

  She went into her bedroom and took off her work clothes, putting on some old jeans and a t-shirt. She laid on the bed, looking out the window. At some point she fell asleep, only to wake up about eleven. She got up and lazily walked to the living room and grabbed her phone. She had five voice mail messages.

  The first one was from her mother. “Char, this is Mom, it’s urgent that I speak to you right away. Please call as soon as you get this message. I’m going to keep trying to reach you.”

  Char didn’t bother with the other messages, she called her mother back.

  “Hello?” her sister Joannie answered.

  “Hi, Joannie. Mom said she needed to talk to me.”

  “Oh, hi Char. Yeah, Mom wants to talk to you. Hold on.”

  After a few minutes, Char’s mother came on the line. “Char?”

  “Yeah, Mom,” Char answered, wondering what she wanted that was so urgent.

  “I have some bad news to share with you. Are you someplace where you can be alone?”

  “Yes, I’m at home.”

  “The state police stopped by here earlier this morning. I don’t know the full story, only what they told me, but they said that your father was found dead in his trailer.”

  “What?” Char asked, shocked.

  “Yes, it appeared he’s been dead for some time.”

  “Are you joking with me?” Char asked angrily.

  “What? I would never joke about something like this. You know that, Char. They said that he had apparently made a phone call to you and then it looked like he keeled over. They’re doing an autopsy today to determine the cause of death. But they said so far it looked like it was a natural cause and nothing suspicious.”

  “Oh my God, no!” Char started sobbing through the cascade of tears that had begun spilling down her cheeks.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I figured you would want to hear it from me rather than from a cop.”

  “I’ve got to come back to Michigan and make arrangements. Um, I have to decide what to do.”

  “Would you like me to make the arrangements for him?” her mother asked.

  “Huh? Oh, no. I’ll do it. I’ll be there as soon as I can possibly get there. I have to call the airline and get a flight out. Oh my God, I’ve got so much to do.”

  “Don’t panic, Char. It’s okay, we’ll get through this. Call me back and tell me the flight number and time to expect you, and I’ll be at the airport to pick you up. Honey, it’s okay.”

  “I’ve got to pack a suitcase. What should I wear? I’ll need a suit, and dress clothes. Ugh, I better hang up so I can get started,” Char rambled.

  “Charlene. Have I got your attention?” her mother asked sternly.

  Char stood still. “Yeah, Mom.”

  “It’s okay. You don’t need to panic. Take your time. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

  Char did as she was told.

  “Feel better now?” her mother asked.

  “Yes,” Char whispered.

  “Okay. Now, when you hang up, call the airline and see when you can book a flight out here. Then call me back so I can meet you at the airport. After you do that, I’ll help you decide what to do next. Okay, sweetie?”

  “Yes, I’ll call you back as soon as I get reservations made.”

  Char arranged to take a flight to Detroit later in the day. She called her mother back with the arrival time, and she agreed to pick Char up from the airport and told Char she would be staying with them. Then her mom helped her make a list of the items she’d need to pack.

  Char tried to call Vincent to let him know, but the call went to voice mail and Char didn’t leave a message. She packed her suitcase and headed out the door to go to the airport. She was fortunate to get a direct flight and didn’t have to contend with layovers and changing planes. Just before she boarded the plane, she tried Vincent’s number again.

  “Carter,” Vincent answered his cellphone.

  “Hi, Vincent. It’s Char.”

  “Yeah, honey, what’s going on?” Vincent’s soft voice soothed her nerves.

  “I wanted to tell you... Oh, I’ve had the most horrible day. I don’t know where to start. Right now I’m in the airport, waiting to board a flight to Michigan.”

  “What? Why?” Vincent asked, alarm clear in his voice.

  “Where do I start? I got fired from my job this morning, and I came home and took a nap, and while I was sleeping, my mom had been trying to reach me. They found my father, dead, in his trailer. So I have to go to Michigan and make funeral arrangements and take care of his personal effects.”

  “I wish you had told me sooner. I would have gone to Michigan with you.”

  “I know. That’s okay, I can handle it. I just wanted to let you know that I would be out of the state for a few days.”

  “How long will you be gone?” Vincent asked.

  “I don’t know yet. I figure a week, maybe? He didn’t have a lot of friends and no other relatives, so I don’t anticipate doing too much as far as a funeral is concerned. I may just do a memorial service and leave it at that.”

  “I’m sorry. Do they know what he died from?”

  “No, not yet. Mom said they’re performing an autopsy, but they think it was probably natural causes. She also said that it looked like he had called me and just keeled over right after the call. I have a voice mail message that he left me last Wednesday.”

  “You’ll keep me posted on what’s happening, won’t you?” Vincent asked.

  “Yes, I will. Listen, they’re calling my flight, so I’ve got to board. I’ll call you tonight.”

  “Okay, honey. If you need to talk about anything, or just need to cry, you call me, okay?”

  “I will, Vincent. Talk to you later.”

  Char boarded the flight and sat in a seat next to the window. She stared out at the people below who were refueling the plane, loading passengers’ baggage, and otherwise scurrying around trying to get the plane ready for take-off.

  Char was lost in thought during most of the flight. She wondered if she should have done more for her father, been more compassionate about his addictions, and more forceful in trying to help him get professional help. She felt really bad that his last hours were spent alone. She wondered if he suffered a lot or if he’d gone instantly. She hadn’t called him back, and she should have. Maybe she would have averted whatever it was that killed him. Char felt guilty on all levels that she didn’t do more, do better, and-or care enough. She wondered if she would end up just like him.

  Char thought about Vincent; how much she loved being with him, how she enjoyed his company immensely, and how she enjoyed t
heir lovemaking. She loved his smile, his gentle personality, and his way of dealing with situations that would diffuse problems rather than create more.

  Wait a minute...love? Did I think love?

  Then it dawned on Char that she really did love him. It was such a simple word, but so powerful. Did she love him enough to marry him? Well, she’d have to think about that. Besides, he hadn’t indicated that he loved her, so she didn’t know where she stood with him.

  * * * *

  Char stepped out of the terminal and into Metro airport. She looked around and saw her mother, two sisters, her two nieces, and Cam hurrying toward her. She ran to them and spread her arms in an expansive gesture to hug them all.

  “Char, honey, I’m so glad to see you and so glad you are home,” her mother said, hugging her tightly. Char’s mother was an older version of herself, with auburn-colored hair that was graying at the temples and green eyes. She was taller than Char by about an inch, but Char wore heels which put her an inch or so higher than her mother.

  Cam stood slightly off to the side, letting the girls all get their hugs in. Joannie and Kathy and her nieces stepped in and hugged her too.

  “Great to see you, sis. How are you?” Kathy asked. She looked more like their father, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. She was about the same height as Char, but she didn’t wear heeled shoes.

  “Doing okay, you?” Char asked Kathy.

  Kathy had a small smile on her lips and said, “I’m doing all right.”

  Joannie held onto Char. “I’m so glad you could come home, even though it’s an unhappy situation,” she whispered in Char’s ear. Joannie was a cross between her mother and Cam. She had her mother’s auburn-colored hair, but she had her father’s gray eyes and tall, lanky figure. She was taller than all of the women in the family.

  Char looked at her two little nieces and then bent down to hug them. “Come here you two,” Char said lovingly. “Jade, I hear you’re in kindergarten!” Char exclaimed to the pretty blonde-haired girl.

  “Yeah, I’ll be in first grade next year.” Her face beamed as she looked up at Char.

  “I’m in school too!” Maria said excitedly.

 

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