by Alice Ward
“I’d love nothing more than to make love to you one last time. But then leaving you would be too unbearable. I just want to hold you and memorize the way you feel in my arms.”
“Well, that’s definitely something I can accommodate,” I agreed. I settled back into his arms and he held me tightly against him. I concentrated on the rhythm of his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest. I breathed in his scent and on impulse, I moved my hands to the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head.
“Baby, we don’t have time,” he warned again.
“I know,” I replied, climbing off the sofa. “This shirt smells like you. I’m keeping it. I’ll go grab you a new one.”
I raced to the bedroom, grabbed a clean shirt from Asher’s top drawer, and stepped into the kitchen just as Kennedy pushed open the front door.
“It’s time to go,” she announced.
I tossed the shirt to Asher and he quickly dressed.
“I love you,” he said, pulling me into his arms again.
“I love you too. We’ll get through this. Stay strong and I’ll see you as soon as they’ll let me.”
My husband lowered his lips to mine one last time and then turned and walked out of the house.
***
I wasn’t allowed to attend Asher’s arraignment. Instead, I sat at home with Claire and my parents and watched the story unfold on television. The judge refused to allow cameras at the hearing, but the Channel 2 cameraman managed to get a shot of Asher and Kennedy entering the courthouse with a short, confident man I assumed was Clark, the new lead attorney.
Reporters inside the courtroom sent real time updates to their counterparts outside, so we were able to keep up with the hearing as it progressed. Clark seemed to do all of the talking, and the judge seemed hostile right off the bat.
Asher pled not guilty to all charges and Clark’s motion for bail was immediately denied. The judge froze EnvisionTech’s corporate accounts, as well as Asher’s personal funds, and ordered that he be taken to Atwater Federal Penitentiary to await trial. Mom gasped when the prison was mentioned.
“Isn’t that where Asher’s father is?” she asked.
I nodded, staring at the screen. “It’s also where Luis’ brothers and uncles are serving time. I doubt they’ll grant him any sort of protection since they think he’s been working with the family this whole time. This couldn’t get any worse.”
“For the love of God, Lauren, don’t say that out loud,” Mom scolded me. “You have quite enough to deal with without tempting fate.”
“I know. You’re right,” I agreed with a cringe. “I’m just so worried about him. Asher’s past is full of so much pain. I hate that he’s having to revisit it in such a terrible way. And knowing I can’t even visit him is breaking my heart.” I glared down at the monitor around my ankle.
“Mom and I will visit as often as they let us,” Dad volunteered.
“You’d do that for me?” I asked.
“We’ll do it for both of you,” Mom answered, taking my hand. “You’re not the only one who needs to see for herself that he’s doing okay. Asher’s family now. We shouldn’t have any trouble getting our names on the visitor’s list.”
Dad cleared his throat. “Where is your lawyer, sweetheart? I have a few questions about what these new charges could mean for your case.”
“Parker’s still in LA,” I explained. “The police confiscated a small warehouse full of evidence against the Chavez organization after the latest round of arrests. She’s staying close and keeping in contact with some of her old friends at the courthouse. We’re hoping the investigators find something in the family’s files that contradicts the evidence found in that storage building.”
“Kennedy will be here soon, Mr. Matthews,” Claire announced, nodding toward the television. I looked up and saw Kennedy and Clark step in front of a crowd on the courthouse steps. “She can answer any of your questions.”
I shushed Claire and turned up the volume. Clark explained to the press that Asher was completely innocent of the charges and promised that his name would be cleared as more evidence came to light. His calm words did nothing to reassure me; I knew he was just posturing for the cameras.
I flipped off the television and set off for the kitchen.
“Anyone else feel like a drink?” I called over my shoulder.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Claire answered.
“Me too,” Dad added.
“Just bring the bottle,” Mom directed.
“I’ll do you one better,” I replied.
I took the ice bucket from the cart, filled it, and then rolled the entire bar into the living room. I dropped two pieces of ice into a glass and added two fingers of Jackson’s favorite scotch. Dad quickly accepted it from my extended hand and I looked to Mom and Claire.
“Any special requests?”
Claire stood and moved beside me. “Pour yourself whatever you want and sit back down,” she insisted. “You don’t have to play hostess. We can take care of ourselves.”
“It helps me to have something to do,” I explained.
She nodded and returned to her armchair. “I’d like a little soda in my scotch,” she told me.
“Coming right up. Mom?”
“I’ll have the same.”
I poured three scotch and sodas. After a few moments of tense silence, Dad reached for the remote and turned the television on again. He changed it to the twenty-four-hour news station that focused predominantly on the stock market and corporate finance. As I’d feared, EnvisionTech’s stock had plummeted. A panel of commentators were arranged around a round table, discussing what the charges against Asher meant for the company’s future.
“I should probably call someone,” I announced. “Brian is probably losing his mind. And with Asher away, the company is my responsibility.”
“Asher stepped down from the board,” Claire reminded me, her voice soft. “They made it pretty clear they don’t want him associated with the company until all of this is cleared up. Maybe you should talk to Kennedy before you make any calls.”
She’s right. From this point forward, I probably shouldn’t blink without asking Kennedy first. Why, why, why did I get in the truck that morning? I should have let Asher leave alone. I could have called Detective Austin to go after him. Would have, could have, should have…
I knew there was no point in thinking about what might have been. I knew that none of the blame for what happened rested on my shoulders. But that didn’t ease my regret.
The four of us finished our first round of drinks in silence as we watched the journalists recap the so called facts of the case. A psychiatrist who specialized in cult behavior joined the panel via satellite and expressed his expert opinion that Asher fit the classic profile of a cult leader. One of the other panelists, an overweight, middle aged man best known for his ultra-right wing books suggested that I may be Asher’s latest victim. The single female panelist agreed with him, citing our quickie marriage as evidence of my brainwashing.
I was about to throw my empty glass at the screen when the front door opened and Kennedy stepped into the house. She dropped her briefcase in the entryway and kicked off her heels before joining us.
“I assume you saw everything on TV?” she asked, stepping up to the bar. She pulled a bottle of vodka from the bottom rack and poured a double shot into a crystal tumbler.
“Yeah… was the judge as big of an ass in person as he seemed to be on the news?” I asked.
She nodded. “I’m not sure ass is the right word. But he’s tough, no patience for nonsense.”
Dad cleared his throat. “Is there anything we can do to have Asher moved somewhere other than Atwater?”
She shook her head and tossed back the liquor. “He has to go where there’s room. Clark called in some favors and got the warden to agree to keep Asher away from anyone connected to the Chavez family. That’s the best we can do.”
“Well, it’s certa
inly a good start,” Mom assured her.
Leave it to Mom. The world could be burning down around us and she’d still instinctively make sure that everyone feels loved and appreciated.
“Thank you, Mrs. Matthews,” Kennedy replied with a weak smile. She took a seat beside me on the couch and reached for my hand. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get bail.”
“No one expected you to,” I reminded her.
“I know. But I’m still sorry.”
“Kennedy, how will these new developments affect Lauren’s case?” Dad asked.
“They shouldn’t,” she replied. “If anything, they may actually help. The press has done a bang up job of tampering with the jury pool. Donaldson knows it will be hard to get a conviction with everyone on the panel suspecting that Asher brainwashed Lauren the way he supposedly did to Cynthia. I think there’s a good chance Parker will be able to get the charges dropped completely. I spoke with her on my way over here and she’s going to file the motion first thing in the morning.”
“Well, at least we have a little good news,” Mom observed. She glanced at her watch and I knew she was worried about the guests back at the bed and breakfast.
“I appreciate you all being here,” I began. “But I know you have your own lives to live. Mom, Dad, why don’t you head home for the night? It’s getting late and I know you hate driving after dark.”
“Are you sure, honey?” Dad asked. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you all alone.”
I squeezed Kennedy’s hand. “I won’t be alone. Right?”
She nodded. “I spoke to Jackson on my way over here as well. He’s checking us out of the hotel now. We’ll stay here and make sure Lauren is taken care of.”
“I’ll stay too,” Claire offered.
“See? I’ll be well taken care of.”
My parents stood and Dad pulled his wallet from his pocket. “Let me at least give you some cash. I don’t want you worrying about money while Asher’s accounts are frozen.”
“That won’t be necessary either, Mr. Matthews,” Kennedy explained. “Two days after Cynthia disappeared, Asher opened an account in Lauren’s name only. There’s more than enough money in it for Lauren to live a long, extravagant life.”
The surprises just keep coming.
“He did that?” I asked. “Why didn’t I know about it?”
“Asher thought you’d be upset if you knew he was preparing for the worst. He didn’t want to depress you, but he wanted to know you’d be able to take care of yourself if something terrible happened.”
“The more I learn about my new son-in-law, the more I like him,” Dad announced. “Speaking of which, Ellen and I would like to visit Asher. What steps do we have to take to make that happen?”
“I’ll make the calls in the morning and email the visitation hours and procedures,” she replied.
“Thanks, Kennedy.”
Dad passed me his untouched scotch and kissed the top of my head before turning for the door. Mom promised they’d call later that evening and reminded me the phone worked both ways. I assured her I’d let her know if I needed anything and they reluctantly left the house. Kennedy took me by one hand, Claire the other.
“How are you holding up, Lauren?” Kennedy whispered.
“I don’t know. I think I’m mostly numb.”
“Can we get you anything?” Claire asked.
I shook my head and remembered Asher’s t-shirt waiting in the bedroom.
“I think what I really need is some rest. Would you mind if I lay down for a while?”
“Of course not,” Kennedy replied. “You have to take care of yourself. You go to bed. We’ll be right here if you need us.”
“Thanks, guys.”
I squeezed their hands and then released them, rising to my feet. I padded barefoot into the bedroom, curled Asher’s shirt against my chest, and burrowed under the blankets. I took in his lingering scent with deep breaths and imagined his face until I eventually drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER 5
I woke up the next morning and instinctively rolled to Asher’s warm side of the bed. I nuzzled up to a warm body and jerked back again when I realized it wasn’t my husband. I opened my eyes and saw Kennedy’s strawberry blonde hair fanned out across Asher’s pillow.
She must have snuck in after I drifted off last night. I wonder where Jackson is.
I glanced at the alarm clock and saw that it was seven-thirty, definitely not too early to wake her. I gently shook her shoulder and whispered her name; she rolled over and opened her eyes, stretching her arms over her head with a yawn.
“What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty. What are you doing in here? Where’s Jackson?”
She pushed herself upright in the bed and reached for her phone. “I was worried you’d have a tough time sleeping through the night alone. Jackson slept in the guestroom.”
“Any news?” I asked as she scanned through her emails.
She nodded. “Donaldson wants to meet with you again. Parker’s going to pick you up at nine.”
“Nothing about Asher?” I pressed.
“Atwater isn’t going to send daily updates, Lauren,” she replied, her voice soft and patient.
“I know,” I told her with a sigh.
“How are you holding up?” she pressed. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”
“The numb is starting to wear off,” I confessed. “To be honest, I expected this to feel a lot different. I was so afraid of Asher being arrested again. I thought I’d feel sad and lost without him. But to be honest, all I feel is anger. And I’m more determined than ever to put a stop to Rachel, or Cynthia, or whatever the fuck she wants to call herself today.”
“Well, that’s healthier than being devastated, I guess. It’s certainly more productive. But I don’t know what else we can do. Cynthia spent years laying this trap. She fooled both experts, which tells me she spent quite a bit of time studying psychology and rehearsing how to behave during observation. We can’t trace the storage unit to her, we can’t trace the payroll money to her. Our investigators are still working the case, but at this point, I’m losing hope that they’ll find anything.”
“I refuse to accept that. She’s good, but she’s too crazy to hold it together all the time. She’s bound to slip up. We just need someone from our side to be there when it happens.”
“And how do you suggest we do that?” Kennedy asked.
“I’ll confront her,” I insisted. “And I’ll wear a wire. I’ll antagonize her until she snaps. She’ll confess everything. I know she will. She’s too damn arrogant not to take credit for her schemes.”
Kennedy looked far from convinced. “There are two problems with your plan. One, you’re not allowed to leave this house unless it’s for court or a case related meeting. Two, confronting her is a sure fire way to be arrested for harassment,” Kennedy advised.
“Damn it. I refuse to sit here and accept that there’s nothing we can do. She’s still the main suspect in the payroll theft. Isn’t that enough grounds to have some sort of surveillance put on her?”
“The police are still investigating her,” she assured me. “I’m not sure if they have any mics or cameras on her. I’ll look into it while you’re at the meeting with Parker. Speaking of which, we should get up and around. I’ll go start breakfast if you want to take the first shower.”
“Thanks. Did the email mention what Donaldson wants to talk about?” I asked, nerves creeping up in my voice. I hadn’t met with the prosecutor since I’d become Mrs. Asher Reynolds. I suspected he’d summoned me to his office to unleash his fury.
“He didn’t say. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
I’m getting really tired of that being the theme of my life.
***
Three hours later, I walked into Mr. Donaldson’s office with Parker by my side.
“Mrs. Reynolds,” he greeted me with a sneer. “I hear congratulations are in order. Tell me, how is marrie
d life treating you?”
“There’s no need to be antagonistic, David,” Parker warned as we took our seats.
“Married life is wonderful,” I replied, refusing to let him phase me. “And I expect it to get even better once we’re out from under the cloud of these terrible accusations.”
The prosecutor turned his nose up at me. “You aren’t fooling anyone. You know, when I offered you the plea deal, I never expected you to run off and get married. If you’d spoken with me first, you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble.”
“What are you talking about?” I countered without waiting the four seconds for Parker to break in. She stiffened beside me, but remained silent.
“I still have every intention of calling you as a witness against your husband,” he informed me, his eyes narrowed. “Your spousal privilege only applies to the last few days.”
“You think we didn’t explain that to her?” Parker countered with a snort.
I stared defiantly into the prosecutor’s eyes and held my shoulders high. “I have every intention of taking the stand and telling the truth about what happened in that cabin. I don’t care how you try to trip me up or twist my words. Put me on the stand and I’ll tell the same truths I’ve spoken in this office. Cynthia Goins is the villain of this story, not my husband. And if you’re not going to tell the jury that, I will.”
He pulled a file from a drawer and tossed it angrily on the desk. “The federal prosecutor and I have compared notes. I know Asher’s never been the upstanding citizen he wants everyone to believe he is. He’s up to his neck with the Chavez family. He’s an abuser, an embezzler, and a cold blooded killer. You’re a smart girl, Lauren. At first, I thought you were naive, that you’d gotten in over your head before you realized Asher’s true character. Your insistence to tie your life to his proved that theory wrong. I see now that you’re just as evil as he is. So you can tell the jury whatever you damn well please. But if you go with your story instead of mine, instead of the truth, I will destroy you.”