#7-9--The O’Connells

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  Karen looked pissed, and Luke gave him a steely, hard stare that he’d never want to cross.

  “You don’t think that was the plan all along?” Karen asked.

  Jack took in his wife and her brother, who already knew the truth. Karen was no longer relaxed, and baby talk was now far off the table. What was he supposed to say?

  “What bothers me more than anything,” Luke said, cutting in, “is that he alluded to the body being that of Raymond O’Connell, dear old Dad, considering we all know that’s not true.”

  “I’ll call the DA, go and meet with him about that stunt,” Jack said. “Unfortunately, without Raymond O’Connell coming forward in person to shut this down, the rumors will continue and will likely get worse. We need to remember that even though the charges were dropped, doubts will remain in the minds of everyone in the community, telling them that the O’Connells did something.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Good morning, sunshine. You sleep okay?” Ryan said as he poured himself another cup of coffee, dressed in blue jeans and an old T-shirt, barefoot, because he was taking today off, as well.

  Alison said nothing and gave him nothing, just walked around him and waited for him to move so she could pour herself a mug of coffee. She dumped in what seemed to him like a ton of sugar and stirred it with a spoon.

  “You know it would probably do your grandma some good if you went and hung out with her today,” he added.

  Alison shrugged.

  He and Jenny had told her the night before that she’d be staying home from school for the next little bit, considering the spotlight. It seemed time was all that would settle the talk in town.

  At the same time, he could see from her lack of response that something was up, so he leaned on the counter, closer to her, to wait her out. Unfortunately, she was really good at going dark and silent.

  “So how’s Brady? You talk to him lately?” he said. Maybe the boy would be the thing to loosen her tongue.

  She held the mug and stared down into the coffee. “Saw him yesterday. Went and hung out at his place for a bit. But I got a text this morning. His dad said they’re leaving.”

  Oh, so that was it. Boy trouble with a boy who was leaving town. Good! But Ryan had to remind himself that he’d have felt that way about any boy right about now. “Well, that’s too bad. So where are they going? Didn’t you tell me they just moved here? That’s kind of sudden, isn’t it?”

  His daughter rested her mug on the island, and he took in her messy hair , the makeup she’d slept in, and the nightshirt that stopped at midthigh.

  “Yeah, he moved here right before the Jackson Moore thing happened at school,” she said. “He was nice. When I was over there yesterday, he said nothing about leaving. It was weird, you know, the way his dad kept watching us. He wouldn’t leave us alone—kind of like how you acted, Dad.” She wasn’t teasing. In fact, she sounded accusatory and mad, and she made a face. “Figured maybe you talked to him or something.”

  “Hate to break this to you, Alison, but I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting Brady’s dad, so I couldn’t have talked to him. But I’ll remember that for the future,” he teased, though he knew she wasn’t impressed. At least now he wouldn’t have to figure out a way to get a background check done on Brady and his father.

  Alison glanced up to him, her brows furrowed. “But he said he knew you,” she said.

  That had him really looking at her, and he shook his head. “What’s his dad’s name? I don’t remember meeting anyone who recently moved here. How did he know me?”

  She just shrugged. “I don’t know. He just said he did. Kind of thought he knew Uncle Marcus, too.”

  Maybe he should’ve asked Brady who his dad was. If he knew him, he’d have a better idea of what this was about. “So, for curiosity’s sake, who is his dad, and where do they live, exactly?”

  Alison took a swallow of coffee, and he thought she made a face, likely from all the sugar she dumped in there. “He lives a block away, closer to Grandma’s. He said his name’s Ray. When we first met him, I was in the park with Eva, and Brady was there, and his dad came looking for him and called him over. He found out that you’re my dad and Eva is Uncle Marcus’s daughter. I know they had just moved here and everything, but he really was kind of weird about staying close to home with Brady.”

  He had no idea who this Ray was.

  Just then, he heard a knock at the locked front door, and he strode out of the kitchen to see his brother Marcus on the porch, dressed in blue jeans and a navy sweatshirt. Evidently, his return to the sheriff’s office still hadn’t happened, but then, it wouldn’t be that easy. Ryan flicked the lock and pulled the door open.

  “You see the news?” was all Marcus said.

  Ryan didn’t have to ask if it was bad news, considering his brother’s tone. He heard the footsteps on the stairs and took in Jenny, showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, her hair still damp.

  “What’s going on?” she said, evidently having heard.

  Ryan found himself glancing out the door, wondering if reporters would show up next.

  “That asshole Lonnie basically buried me on TV,” Marcus said. “Other than that, the DA announced he’d dropped the charges, but the kicker is that they’re still implying the remains are dear old Dad’s, and we could still find ourselves under investigation, charged, and arrested. You know, in other words, they’re shining the spotlight deep on all of us.”

  There was another knock at the door from behind them, and Ryan turned and spotted a deputy’s uniform through the window. He pulled it open to find Harold standing there. For a second, he didn’t know what to say.

  Harold gestured with his thumb over to Marcus’s place, across the street. “Charlotte said Marcus was over here.”

  Ryan pulled the door open without inviting him to come in. Maybe he was still remembering how Harold had cuffed his mother and stuffed her in the back of his cop car. Even though he’d tried to explain it was better him than Lonnie, the fact was that he’d still done it.

  “Harold, there’s coffee on,” Jenny said. “Can I get you some?”

  For a second, as he took her in, Ryan wondered why she’d done that.

  Harold just shook his head. “I just wanted to stop in this morning because I’m not comfortable with how this has all gone down. Suzanne didn’t come home last night…”

  He heard the squeak and looked up to see his sister at the top of the stairs. She’d stayed over in their spare room at Jenny’s insistence. She looked miserable, her hair a tangled mess, and she was wearing a pair of Jenny’s pajama pants and an old T-shirt. She strode down, and Marcus rested his hand on the post, taking in Suzanne and Harold. No one said anything at first.

  “So this is how we’re doing things now,” Harold said. “Or is this your way of saying it’s over?”

  Suzanne stopped at the bottom step, and Jenny slid her hand around Ryan’s arm, pulling at him. “Maybe we should give these two a minute to talk alone,” she said.

  Suzanne was shaking her head. “No, we’re good. There’s nothing I have to say that my family can’t hear. I think you said loud and clear that it was over when you arrested my mom. How could you do that to her? And don’t say that it was your job, that it wasn’t personal, because it was personal. You chose a side.”

  “Suzanne,” Marcus cut in, sounding unusually calm. He slid his gaze to Harold, and Ryan could see there was an edge there, that he was struggling with the same feeling of betrayal. “That’s not the way of it. Harold’s hands were tied. He basically had no choice—and he was right: If Lonnie had picked up Mom, it would’ve been worse for her.”

  “What you did wasn’t right,” Suzanne said, then stepped off the last step and started into the kitchen.

  Harold hesitated a second. “Excuse me,” he said, turning to Ryan and Jenny and gesturing toward her. “Do you mind?”

  Jenny nodded, and Harold followed Suzanne into the kitchen, where Alison wa
s. She’d get a front-row seat to the show.

  “So are we going to let them…?”

  “Work it out?” Jenny said. “Yes, if that’s what you mean.”

  Marcus was still standing there, looking past him to the kitchen. He settled his hand on the door. “Yeah, I hate to admit it, but Jenny’s right. They’re either going to work it out or not. Besides, I’ve got to go and figure out how to rein in Lonnie, who’s doing his very best to make sure he kills any chance I have of getting my job back, let alone getting re-elected. God damn! Sometimes I really hate politics, but it seems Lonnie has found his calling. If only the people out there had any idea of the real man behind the face…” His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out. “And it begins,” he said. “The mayor.”

  As Marcus answered the phone and stepped out of the house, Ryan took in Jenny. They listened to the back and forth between Suzanne and Harold, but for some reason, Ryan was still stuck on that boy, Brady, who was leaving.

  His dad knew him? He wasn’t sure why, but something about that bothered him.

  “So do we intrude, or…?” Ryan finally said.

  “We head over to your mom’s,” Jenny replied. “I’m kind of worried about her. Thought we could check on her, maybe do some errands for her, or maybe just get her out of the house, you know?”

  “And what about Harold and Suzanne? Do we just leave them?” He could hear their discussion, which was far from quiet—but that was Suzanne. She didn’t take anything lying down.

  Jenny went up on her tiptoes, slid her arms around his shoulders, and settled against him. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we do. So go get dressed. I’ll drag Alison from the kitchen, and then maybe Harold and Suzanne will have some time to work things out. In case you didn’t know, she loves him, and he loves her. The biggest problem here is that he still had a job to do, and in case you all didn’t notice, he went out of his way to make sure your mom didn’t get screwed. He stayed on the job for your mom, for Marcus, because of what was coming down. If he hadn’t been there, I’d hate to think how much worse it would have been.”

  Then she kissed him and strode into the kitchen, and he just stared at the woman he was madly, deeply in love with, wondering how she could see something that he couldn’t.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marcus pulled up in front of City Hall and parked just as his cell phone rang again, Jack’s name on the screen.

  “Hi, Jack,” he said, making a point of not looking at anyone, because there were just too many people around. Whereas before they would’ve offered a friendly hello, now they had turned nasty and angry, with hateful stares. Then there were the whispers, as if they didn’t think he could hear.

  “Where are you right now?” Jack said. “Because I called Charlotte, and she said you left, that you had some things to take care of. I seriously hope that doesn’t mean Lonnie. Just in case you’re wondering, Luke stopped by, and we saw the news. You’re not doing something stupid, are you?”

  He didn’t know why he smiled at the sound of his brother-in-law’s voice. Jack was suddenly a pit bull for their family and was basically there to save their asses. He’d never have imagined Jack was the one who’d come through for them.

  “Like, what, killing Lonnie, you mean?” Marcus said as he got out and began walking. There was silence on the other end for a second.

  “Don’t you dare joke about something like that,” Jack said. “You are joking, right?”

  He wished he could see Jack’s expression. At times, the man could be so uptight and serious. “Yeah, relax. Even though I want to wrap my hands around his throat, I won’t. I did get a call, though, from the mayor. Evidently, I’ve been summoned before the city council, so this should be interesting. They’re likely going to ask me all kinds of questions, including whether I killed my dad. Oh, yeah, did you miss on the news how they never mentioned that Raymond O’Connell was the one who reached out to clear our mom, so the body in the woods couldn’t have been his? He basically confessed to killing the man, and he tossed out a name, too. That was a pretty major omission on the part of the DA and Lonnie. It seems they still want the spotlight to shine our way. They left enough threads hanging to make sure the public still sees us O’Connells as guilty. But, hey, if you can’t have one O’Connell, doesn’t matter. You can still get another. Just as long as you destroy all their lives, right?” He knew he sounded like an asshole.

  Jack sighed. “Okay, so we’re in that headspace, are we?” he said. “Don’t think I don’t get it. I do, completely, but having a pity party isn’t going to solve anything. Besides, I’m here now, about to go in and see the DA, so since you’re already here, meet me in the DA’s office. This involves you and that stunt they pulled this morning. The mayor and council can wait.”

  Then Jack hung up, and Marcus just held his cell phone, staring at it. He’d never expected to actually follow an order from Jack. He really was taking his role too seriously. At the same time, he hated to admit it, but having Jack all over this mess, helping to sort it out, allowed him to breathe easier.

  Being without his badge, his duty belt, and his gun as he walked into a building he’d been inside so many times, he couldn’t help feeling as if everything he was had been taken from him.

  Marcus strode up the steps to where the DA’s office was, seeing reporters here and there, and a camera flashed in his face.

  “Marcus, can you give us a statement as to why the DA dropped the charges against your mother and what your involvement was? And can you explain why you, as sheriff, looked the other way when an allegation of a crime was made because it concerned your family? Can you see why that was a problem? Did you destroy and hide evidence?”

  “Marcus, over here!” Jack called out, likely because Marcus was about to rip the camera from the asshole reporter and tell him to go fuck himself.

  Right, he was supposed to be holding himself in check, except it didn’t seem to matter what he did, because they’d make something up anyway. A hand touched his arm, and he realized Jack would likely drag him away if he had to.

  “Hey, no questions,” Jack said, pulling him away, toward the office of Eileen, the assistant DA. “The sheriff isn’t answering anything.”

  Inside the office, Eileen was dressed in a black pantsuit, and Tibo in a navy suit. Jack shut the door behind them, and Marcus pulled off his shades, which he’d deliberately left on until then, and rested them on top of his head.

  “So that was quite the stunt this morning,” Marcus said. “You dropped the charges but didn’t clear up the questions about whether my mother and my family are involved, or whether the body is Raymond O’Connell’s.”

  The expression on Tibo’s face was smug, that asshole. Marcus hadn’t realized until now that this was like a game to him.

  “Conclusively, we haven’t been able to disprove that it’s—”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it, Tibo,” Jack cut in. “Considering the Feds were given the same evidence, a copy of the letter, I’m thinking maybe it’s time to bring them in, let them take over, and launch an investigation into the DA’s office on its handling of this case. You manufactured evidence against Iris O’Connell and then Marcus, having him removed as sheriff, all because he openly called out one of the district judges, a judge you’ve supported, for his blatant bias. How long, you think, before people start to see this as payback for Marcus not looking the other way?

  “And let’s not forget that the handwriting on the confession letter matches that from the letter taken into evidence from Iris O’Connell’s house. That search wasn’t justified, but then, isn’t it funny that it was Judge Root who signed off on the warrant, the same judge Marcus was coming after? I think the Feds will be taking a pretty hard look at that, don’t you? Don’t you think the people of Livingston would like to know how the DA managed to get a warrant without the kind of evidence and probable cause needed, an open warrant for a fishing expedition on a case with no direct evidence tied to Iris O’Connell?
>
  “And what did you uncover, anyway? Some belongings Iris kept to remember her husband—who, by the way, left her with nothing more than a note that said not to look for him. You questioned her integrity and asked why she wouldn’t call the police to report a man missing after he walked out and left her a Dear Jane letter? This whole case was a witch hunt from the beginning, based on hearsay, no evidence. Just so there’s no misunderstanding, we will be seeking damages and restitution. Then there’s the sheriff. You overstepped in having Marcus removed, and that press conference with Lonnie to further destroy his credibility was pure slander. You know it. Do you want to tie this office up in another lawsuit?”

  Eileen was shaking her head, and Marcus could see she wasn’t on the same page as the DA. At the same time, she said nothing, which wasn’t like her. Maybe she’d been slapped down again by Tibo, but at what point would she step up and take a stand?

  “Right,” Tibo said. “You want to talk about that letter we found tucked away in the basement? It didn’t just say goodbye and not to look for him. Your mother may not have killed Raymond O’Connell, but she isn’t completely innocent. I wonder how the O’Connell children would feel if they knew what was really in that letter.”

  Marcus didn’t know what to say to that. Jack glanced to him, and he felt the warning there as something in his stomach knotted and that sick feeling he’d had when this all began returned.

  “Where’s the letter?” Jack demanded. “We want it returned. I’m done with this game of yours, these insinuations you’re making to try to destroy this family’s credibility.”