Billionaire Baby Bump

by Chance Carter

  But the officer at the door, a grave look on his face, said it all. His precious wife was gone forever.

  Roy had remained angry ever since.

  He reached for the knobs and turned off the shower abruptly. Those memories were getting harder to suppress.

  * * *

  That afternoon, Jenny took Isabelle out to run errands, a diversion that would get them out of the house for a much-needed change of scenery. They'd existed mostly in an awkward silence since they'd returned to the house, and Jenny was anxious to make some progress with the relationship.

  Isabelle, as always, remained quiet. She followed Jenny like a nervous shadow, staying close but not willing to risk looking like she belonged to the strange woman.

  Jenny was fine with the child's shadow-like strategies. It was the looks she was getting from the other town folk that made her feel uneasy. They stared openly and whispered among themselves, obviously finding her a good source of gossip. Not that she wouldn't have had something to say if she had been in their shoes.

  Joey was well-known for his misadventures. She could only imagine what they expected her to be like.

  It was times like this that she craved the anonymity of the city.

  The faces that peered from shop doorways and from passing cars were unfamiliar. Like Jenny, most of her childhood friends had left Ombrea as soon as it was humanly possible.

  Chloe and Joey were two of the rare few who stayed behind, content with all the small town had to offer and happy to remain isolated.

  “Can we be done now?”

  Isabelle spoke softly for the first time since they'd left the safety of the car behind.

  “Almost.”

  Willing herself not to lose her resolve now, Jenny pushed on. Isabelle came quietly along behind her.

  “Is there nothing you want to get?”

  Isabelle shook her head rapidly, and her bottom lip began to tremble. Before Jenny knew it, tears were streaming from the child's eyes. It was agonizing to watch, and Jenny's heart ached for her little niece.

  “Come here, sweetheart.”

  She took Isabelle into her arms awkwardly. Isabelle remained stiff in her aunt’s embrace, sobbing.

  “It's going to be okay.”

  “I know,” Isabelle said defensively , breaking free of Jenny's arms. “I wasn’t even crying.”

  Isabelle’s tough attitude reminded Jenny of Joey at that age, broken but not wanting to display his vulnerability. Even when they learned their parents had been killed, he didn’t shed a public tear. He just holed himself up in his battered, old treehouse for days, as if his anger and grief were something he had to keep secret.

  “Okay. I didn't see anything.”

  She turned back to the street and they continued on their way, her shadow keeping pace behind her.

  * * *

  Roy was chopping logs in front of his cabin when he heard the screech of tires coming down the back road.

  He paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, his muscles rippling in the mid-day sun. As the noise grew closer, he reached for his discarded shirt and pulled it on. It clung tightly to the sheen of sweat across his chest.

  A lone police car rolled into view and Roy slammed the ax down into the nearest log, anger and frustration taking hold. This was the last person he wanted to see.

  Roy could tell from the look on Chief Cartright's face that the feeling was mutual. Cartright threw his car door shut with a force that was clearly meant to make a statement.

  “You must be lost,” Roy shouted across to him, wiping a tuft of his dark, brown hair away from his forehead. “You're not welcome here.”

  “You better watch your mouth, boy.”

  Cartright gave a cautious glance to the ax as he approached, his face twisted in a vicious sneer.

  “I hear you've been making a pest of yourself again.”

  Joey’s sister, he thought, wincing. Of course, she'd see to it that he and his plan to prove her brother’s innocence were shut down.

  “You must have heard wrong.”

  “Is that so?”

  Cartright let out a snort.

  “Funny how trouble just seems to find you in this town, Roy.”

  “That's not how I see it.”

  “That doesn't matter, boy. You've had one warning already about spreading this ridiculous theory of yours. You'd be smart to get a new hobby.”

  “Or what?”

  Roy reached out his hand and gripped the handle of the ax. He smiled thinly as Cartright's eyes passed from the sharp weapon and back to his with a fleeting look of apprehension.

  “You don’t want to know what happens if I have to come back and speak to you again.”

  “You'll have to forgive me if I’m not shaking in my boots, Chief.”

  Cartright smirked, and Roy considered just how much damage it would do if he went for the older man with his fists raised. He could have him on the floor in an instant, perhaps aiming a well-placed boot to the Chief's ribs.

  It wouldn't make him or his band of fools any less corrupt, but it would be satisfying as hell to wipe that smirk from his ugly face.

  “Just keep your ridiculous notions to yourself. No one wants to help Joey Dale.He’s a scumbag”

  Cartright turned his back and started back to his car.

  “Or you could save us all some time and effort and just release the innocent man from jail,” Roy called out to him.

  He watched Cartright's shoulders tense as he halted his step.

  He had hit a nerve.

  Without turning back, Cartright responded, “Or you could just let it go, boy.”

  Roy didn't give the Chief the benefit of a retort. He simply watched as the officer shifted himself into the car and pulled the door shut behind him. The car's tires scattered dirt and gravel as he disappeared back down the beaten track to the main road.

  Roy picked up his ax once more and gave it an almighty swing into the closest log. To hell with them all, he thought.

  Chapter 6

  The morning of the funeral, Jenny got up before the sun and sat on the front porch. She made herself a hot coffee but it sat untouched on the small table beside her.

  She couldn't believe she was about to attend the funeral of her best friend. It was all such a dreadful turn of events, and she found herself wishing she had been more of a friend over the past few months.

  Her new life had kept her insanely busy. Her magazine career had skyrocketed in the past few months, and it consumed her every moment, leaving no time to be social or tend to old friendships. In fact, she could clearly recall at least one time when she had purposely ignored Chloe's call.

  She had been absorbed in her work and eager to meet an editor's deadline. She jotted down a note on her memo pad return Chloe’s call, but she never did, and now she never could.

  Jenny had never once considered what would happen if she lost Chloe. Her parents died in a car accident when she and Joey were young and the grandparents that had taken them in immediately after the accident died, one after the other, during her college years.

  She thought she was done with losing loved ones. It never occurred to her that she would lose someone her own age. Someone with so much life left in her.

  Life and death were so unpredictable.

  The funeral itself was a small affair. There was a handful of guests in attendance, mostly townspeople who had known Chloe. Three or four old friends from their high school days had also returned to Ombrea for the memorial.

  Having been a year ahead in school, she barely knew them, but they spoke of Chloe fondly, and Jenny enjoyed listening to their stories of time spent with her. She couldn't help but feel out of place amongst them. They seemed to know more about her sister-in-law than she did.

  A few of Ombrea's police officers also attended the funeral. Chief Cartright’s towering figure stood out among the rest. Jenny felt his steely gaze on her more than once at the service.

  The officers stood away from the crowd, spe
aking amongst each other.

  Jenny kept a watchful eye on Isabelle through it all. The young child had been especially close with Norma, the Dales’ elderly neighbor, and so the pair of them sat together, Jenny a stranger at their side as they talked and reminisced together. It was Norma who Isabelle turned to for a hug when the memorial got to be too much. Jenny simply clasped her hands in her lap and allowed Isabelle her comfort and grief. Today would not be a day for bonding.

  In order to prepare herself mentally and emotionally, Jenny made sure she was the last one to speak at the funeral. She kept her story short, bringing up long-forgotten memories of her time with Chloe. Each memory was more painful than the last, and she had her head bowed to hide her tears from the room of strangers.

  Embarrassed and hurting, she lingered close to Chloe's grave and away from the others. She watched in silence as her friend was carefully lowered into the ground. It didn't seem real, she thought, as she dropped a handful of dirt in on top of the coffin and said her final goodbyes. It couldn't be real.

  Following the ceremony, the attendees began to socialize, Isabelle and Norma included. Jenny was an outsider and made no effort to bridge any gaps.

  She could feel their eyes on her as they no doubt discussed the horrific circumstances of Chloe’s death. She knew she longed for the streets of the city from whence she’d been torn – nameless, faceless, anonymous.

  This town was suffocating. A person couldn’t leave the house without everyone holding an opinion on where he’d come from, why he’d been there, and where he was going.

  The crowd dispersed to their cars in small waves. They would be heading to Norma’s where a wake would be held. Jenny held back from the rest, allowing Isabelle to leave with Norma who provided the support she obviously needed at this difficult time.

  Jenny was alone. She was in no mood for awkward small talk, egg salad sandwiches and tea. She wanted nothing more than to head back to the Dale house where she could crawl under the covers and hide for the rest of the day, but the judging mourners would no doubt find her absence offensive. She’d be damned if she went and damned if she didn’t. They had already made up their minds about her.

  As she stood there trying to gain the courage to go to the wake, she sensed that someone was watching her. Turning her head toward the church she saw a tall figure dressed in faded jeans and an old army-green jacket.

  Jenny took a quick look around to see if anyone else had noticed Roy standing there before heading in his direction.

  “You shouldn't be here, Roy,” she told him.

  She kept a careful eye on the small group of officers who were still deep in discussion at their vehicles.

  “You have a lot of nerve showing up at Chloe’s grave. You have to leave immediately.”

  Roy stuck his hands into the pockets of his old combat jacket.

  “I came here because I figured I would give you another chance to hear me out. Three days seemed like enough time for you to come to your senses. ”

  “Why show up here asking for a second chance to plead your case?” she asked incredulously as she placed her hands on her hips.

  “You’re a real piece of work, Dale. Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me that you’re okay to let your brother rot in jail for a crime he didn't commit? You’ve decided his guilt, and you’re too stubborn to even entertain the thought that he may have been set up?”

  “By whom?” she cut in.

  She raised her voice, her temper flaring. This jerk really did bring out the worst in her.

  “Who in this back-ass town would have any reason to set up my brother?”

  Roy jerked his head toward the group of officers who, thankfully, had not noticed his presence. Jenny could only imagine what would happen if they did discover he had come to the grave, especially after everything Chief Cartright had told her the last time she had brought Roy up in conversation.

  She crossed her arms across her chest.

  “You have got to be kidding me. You just can't stop this crazy train, can you?”

  “Is my theory that farfetched, considering the rumors already going around town?”

  Roy turned his back on her and began walking off between the headstones.

  Jenny hesitated for a moment, her anger and frustration rooting her to the ground. She didn't believe him even for a second. She couldn't believe him. And yet, something made her doubt her once solid beliefs.

  Joey had immediately owned up to every one of his crimes in the past. It was as if he took pride in them. Why hadn’t he admitted to this one too?

  Jenny hadn’t spoken to her younger brother since his arrest and her arrival back in town. In fact, she hadn't seen him at all in at least two years. Visiting him now in his jail cell had just seemed unnecessary.

  But Roy's words struck a raw nerve in her, and she wanted to know what he had meant by “rumors.”

  Jenny took one last look over her shoulder before rushing after him.

  Chapter 7

  Roy knew she would hear him eventually. The Dales were a stubborn bunch, but they were reasonable.

  He pushed on through the cemetery in long strides, refusing to stop and wait for her to catch up, and she didn't call out for him to stop. Instead, she followed quickly behind. He could hear her heels clicking on the gravel path as he cut a straight course toward the cemetery gate.

  “Hey!”

  Roy heard her call out to him as he pulled the wooden gate forward, but he wasn’t going to give in just yet. He hurried through and let the door swing shut behind him. A devious smile crossed his face when he heard her muffled curses beyond the gate.

  “Hey!” she repeated, this time louder, her frustration obvious.

  Finally catching up to him, her hand found the shoulder of his army jacket and pulled him roughly back around to face her. He shrugged out of her grasp and took a step back from her.

  “Whatever can I do for you?” he said with an annoying smirk.

  Jenny rested her hands on her hips as she paused to catch her breath. This was probably more exercise than she ever had in New York, and the heels didn’t help.

  “Okay, okay.”

  She held up her hands in mock defeat as she fought to regain her breath.

  “You've got my attention.”

  “Really?”

  Roy raised an eyebrow in disbelief as he stared her down. He had expected another fight, not her willingness to hear him out.

  “I doubt anything could change your mind when it concerns your brother.”

  She rolled her eyes in frustration.

  “Oh, come off it. You had something to say. Now say it. I’m listening.”

  Jenny was struggling to catch her breath so he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “You okay there kid? Need me to call a paramedic? You aren’t going to pass out, are you?”

  “Very funny.”

  Annoyed, she knocked his hand away, but Roy didn’t miss the unmistakable smile that accompanied her gesture.

  “I'm not that out of shape.”

  “You could have fooled me. You're as white as a sheet.”

  “Ugh, it’s been a while since I attended my last hot yoga class, okay?”

  “I don't even know what that is. Hot yoga?”

  Roy shook his head at the absurdity.

  “Don’t judge. It can be very relaxing.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, honey,” Roy teased.

  “That’s fine. You just live your angry life and continue to hate everyone and everything.”

  “I never told you that I hate everything. I am rather angry though. For good reason.”

  “Yeah, I gathered.”

  Roy found he liked sparring with Jenny. And even though she had a completely different outlook on life, he found her oddly attractive. She amused him.

  “What rumors?” she asked, hoping to move the conversation along.

  “I'm not going to tell you here. It's too out in the open.”
/>
  Jenny furrowed her brow.

  “This is going to be very secretive, isn't it? How about I just meet you in a trench coat and a fedora an hour from now in some old lady's garden, and we talk this one out in code?”

  Roy raised an eyebrow.

  “Why? Do you know code?”

  “Does S-O-S count?”

  He laughed.

  “Tell you what, I'll come to your house later. I know you want to get on to the wake, so I won't keep you any longer.”

  He paused for a moment.

  “I'm glad you've come to your senses.”

  “I only agreed to listen. I’m not making any promises,” she said as she turned back toward the graveyard. “You better bring your A-game, Peters.”

  * * *

  That evening, Jenny had an easy time excusing herself from the wake.

  Although the crowd was small, the group had managed to keep going for a solid, two hours. Norma was the perfect hostess, bringing in fresh plates and refreshing glasses like a seasoned hostess.

  Isabelle had become the elderly woman's helper, bringing trays back into the kitchen or running out with fresh napkins. As Jenny watched her dart back and forth in her black dress, she could see it did the little girl some good to keep busy in a familiar place.

  Jenny spent time talking to the visitors at the wake, but she had a general impression that not everyone thought she should be there. No one went so far as to bluntly tell her so, but the way their eyes cast over her as she moved about the room, and their stifled talk when she arrived mid-conversation gave it away.

  Catching Norma between duties, she took her arm.

  “Norma, I'm going to head back over to the house.”

  “Oh, dear, are you sure?”

  Norma had shown her nothing but kindness since she’d arrived back in town, but Jenny could sense it was awkward having her around.

  She forced a polite smile.

  “I'll just walk back. I can take Isabelle with me.”

  “Oh no, dear, leave her be for now.”

  Norma patted her arm kindly.

  “It will do you some good to have some time to yourself. I'll walk her back when we are all finished up here.”