Fatal Agreements

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Fatal Agreements Page 16

by Ashley Fontainne


  “Me either.” Charmee kissed her man, long and hard, before taking the coffee mug from the table and heading to the kitchen. She heard Bradford’s cell buzz on his hip.

  While standing at the counter, contemplating whether to have another steaming cup or switch to water, she heard the tone change in Bradford’s voice.

  “Oh, shit. Are you sure? Uh-huh. When? I see. Natural or? Thank God. Okay, yes. I’ll handle this end. Thanks for calling me first, Charlie. I’ll call you when we get everyone together. Please hold off…yes, thank you.”

  Deciding to have one more cup Charmee filled the mug with the last of the coffee. “Babe? Do you want any more java? I’ll brew a fresh pot if you do.”

  Bradford took a deep breath while walking toward the kitchen. “No thanks.”

  Charmee realized he was in the kitchen. She didn’t like the cold, odd tone in his voice. Turning around, she noticed his face was pale; lips crushed together, and brows furrowed. She sensed the phone call conveyed bad news. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

  All his years in law enforcement taught Bradford many things, one of which was there was no easy way to break the news of a death. No amount of words softened the blow, so he learned to be cut and dry. “The call was from Sgt. Charlie Peterson. He’s at Caroline’s. I’m sorry to say she’s passed away.”

  The sound of the mug shattering on the floor and the hot contents splashing over her legs barely registered. Charmee held the tears in until Bradford’s arms pulled her into his chest. “Was it…Richard?”

  “No, baby. Caroline had a heart attack. No foul play is suspected.”

  “Have they told my girls?”

  “No. I asked Charlie to hold off until we get everyone gathered here.”

  “Suzanne, Reed and the kids should be on their way back from El Dorado. I…I…can’t call and tell her over the phone. I can’t.”

  “I’ll go get Samantha, bring her here and then head over to Suzanne’s house and wait for them.”

  “Thank you. What would I do without you?”

  “There’s something you don’t need to worry about because it won’t happen. Let me fix another pot of coffee before I go.”

  Pulling away, Charmee wiped the tears from her cheeks. “No, it’ll give me something to concentrate on.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back in about twenty with Samantha. I’m sorry, Charmaine.”

  Crouching down to pick up the ceramic shards, Charmee took a deep, cleansing breath. “Me too. This changes everything. I’m not telling them, Bradford, at least for a while. Caroline’s death is going to break their hearts.”

  Though he didn’t agree, Bradford nodded. “Your call, Charmaine, not mine. I’ll support you no matter what you decide.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Wednesday, November 30, 2016

  “YEA, THOUGH I walk through valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou are with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen”

  Sam’s vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. Like Big Sam, Nana was spunky, full of life, a warm smile and funny retort at the ready at all times. When entering a room, Nana’s life force drew people to her like a magnet. When little, Sam recalled her and Suzy walking down the streets of Hot Springs while Nana smiled, exchanging pleasantries with every person passing by, even complete strangers.

  When around ten, Sam questioned why. Nana responded, “The Good Book says to be kind to strangers because you might be entertaining an angel without knowing it. Some things only the Almighty knows.”

  The sound of all the mourners sitting at the same time filled the sanctuary. Suzy held her left hand; her mother the right. They were flanked by Resa, Reed, the kids, and Bradford Wilson and his family.

  The minute Bradford showed up at her house and told her the dreadful news, Sam’s fears kicked into overdrive, terrified Richard had something to do with Nana’s death. Even when the coroner confirmed Nana suffered what he called a “widowmaker attack—she went fast, Samantha,” she pushed for an autopsy. She grilled the man, and the officers who worked the scene, determined to find out every detail in case something jumped out at her as odd or out of place.

  The conversation with the coroner roared back:

  Ms. Chapman, I understand you’re grieving from the loss, but I assure you, Mrs. Chapman passed away from natural causes. I spoke with her cardiac care physician earlier. Her last stress test six months ago indicated major damage. He suggested surgery. According to Dr. Benson, Mrs. Chapman said, and I quote, “Go to hell.” She was an eighty-seven-year old woman who smoked and drank. Daily. If we open her up, I guarantee you we’ll find a blocked left anterior descending coronary artery from the years of abuse she put her body through.

  Sam didn’t believe the coroner and on Monday afternoon, went to see Dr. Benson. Though it was a break in confidentiality, he concurred with the coroner, so Sam decided to drop her insistence on an autopsy, concluding it was her irrational fears playing tricks on her mind and the doctors were correct.

  She buried the pain, focusing all her energy on Rachel and Reed, Jr. Both kids adored their great-grandmother. Sam did her best to keep her emotions in check while offering comfort to them.

  She had little choice because Suzy freaked out. She wouldn’t stop crying. Though the situation was sad, everyone was shocked by her raw display of over-the-top emotions. By late Sunday night, Reed phoned their doctor at home, requesting he call in a prescription of something to calm down his overwrought wife.

  On Tuesday morning, Sam went to Nana’s house to pick out an outfit for her to be buried in as well as retrieve documents from the safe. Nana was a stickler for organization and prearranged and prepaid for her services. She even had a handwritten list of what music to play and which Bible verses she wanted the pastor to recite at her funeral.

  When glancing through Nana’s trust documents of the Stan Cole Chapman and Caroline Marie Chapman Trust, Sam sighed. She was listed as next in line, Charmaine listed as the alternate successor trustee, and upon Nana’s death, Reed Mason became sole owner of Chapman Construction Company.

  She wanted to get the funeral out of the way before approaching her mother about passing the torch because Sam didn’t think she could handle all the responsibilities of trustee. There was too much on her plate.

  The only thing strange she discovered was an envelope resting on top of the other papers. She opened it last since it was sealed and addressed to ‘P.U.T.A’ written in Nana’s loopy cursive. She could tell from the feel of the envelope it contained money for a charity. Upon opening, she was shocked to see it held $25,000 in cash.

  Unable to find any local charities with such initials, Sam gave up. Other things garnered the top spots on the priority ladder. She crammed the envelope inside her purse to be dealt with later.

  Shaking away the thoughts, Sam tried to concentrate on the service. The place was packed with beautiful floral arrangements from front to back, lining the walls on both sides of the sanctuary. The sweet aroma of roses and carnations overrode every other scent in the room.

  Trinity Baptist Church’s sanctuary was standing room only. A sea of familiar and unfamiliar faces came to pay their respects to, as Nana was referred to in the Sentinel Record, “One of the Grand Dames of Hot Springs.”

  The booming voice of the pastor rang throughout the room. “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gave us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!”

  Suzy yanked her hand away from Sam’s. “Excuse me.” Clamping her hand over her mouth, she ran down the aisle.

  Reed moved to go after her, but Sam motioned for him to sit. “I’ll go.”

  Reaching into his pocket, Reed slipped out t
he bottle of pills. “I’m sorry. She refused to take one before the service.”

  Taking the pills, Sam followed the same path as Suzy. Once out in the vestibule, she heard her sister retching from the bathroom at the end of the hall.

  Swallowing her own disgust at the sounds, Sam pushed the door open then went to the sink, wetting some towels.

  The toilet flushed and then Suzy emerged from the stall. Her face was pale, eyes rimmed in red. Though she loved her sister, a twinge of anger roiled inside Sam’s chest. She needed to pull herself together. Nana would never approve of such theatrics. She held out the damp towel. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Brushing away Sam’s hand, Suzy turned on the faucet, splashing cool water on her hot face. Once finished, she dug around in her purse for a mint or piece of gum. “What’s going on is called mourning a loved one. Some people show their emotions, Samantha, rather than keeping them hidden.”

  Leaning against the stall door, Sam studied her twin. Besides the pale skin and red eyes, something else was wrong. It took her a second to realize Suzy was shaking. The only other time her sister looked so rough and cried at the drop of a hat was when pregnant with Rachel.

  The mental lightbulb flicked on. Sam felt like an ass for being so snarky. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re expecting?”

  Suzy stiffened then looked away, continuing to search for something to take away the bile taste inside her mouth.

  Sam moved closer, putting a hand underneath Suzy’s chin. “Look at me, Suzanne.”

  Slapping Sam’s hand away, Suzy spit into the sink. “Don’t tell me what to do. I get enough of that at home.”

  “I know Nana’s death hurts but you’re bringing a new life into the world! We should be celebrating! A baby will give us something to focus…”

  “Fine. You win. I’m pregnant. However, the news is not something to celebrate. At all.”

  Sam’s mouth dropped open. “How can you say such a thing? You love children! Rachel and Reed, Jr. are old enough to help out when the baby arrives, and now I’m only a few miles away…”

  “Right, though it doesn’t matter. I’m not having it. In fact, we aren’t having this discussion. This damn twin bond fucked me over. Again. I’m only around nine weeks along. I took the test Sunday morning. No one knows but the two of us, and it will stay that way. I’m not having this baby. End of story.”

  Blinking twice as she attempted to absorb the outburst, Sam’s heart went into overdrive. “Oh, Christ on a cracker. Is it because the baby isn’t Reed’s?”

  Suzy’s bravado disappeared. She burst into tears. “No. I mean…it could be…but it also could be...”

  “Kip’s?” Sam leaned against the sink for support before her knees gave out, worried how much more drama her heart could handle before exploding.

  “Of course he’s the other person. I’m not a whore spreading my legs whenever the urge hits like you were in high school.”

  Wiping the damp towel across her own neck, Sam fought the urge to vomit. “Ouch, quite the unnecessary kick in the gut. I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything. I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

  “This isn’t happening.”

  “Don’t bite my head off, but have you considered genetic testing? I’m positive I read online a few months ago a paternity test can be done as early as eight weeks by a simple vial of blood from the mother and the DNA sample of the father. You don’t know for sure which one is the father. What if it is Reed’s? Maybe you should find out first?”

  Suzy shook her head. “I’m not a fool. I waited until Reed and the kids went to bed last night and scoured the net. You’re correct—a DNA test is simple these days. The problem is the father or his parents or a sibling if the baby-daddy isn’t available, must attend to provide a sample. What am I supposed to do? Take two strands of hair and say, ‘here—test these?’”

  “Maybe you could ask...?”

  “I swear I’ll punch you in the throat if you finish that question.”

  Sam held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll back off.”

  Suzy flung herself into Sam’s arms. “I’m sorry…I…we were careful…and it was only once. I guess…the condom…had a hole. I don’t know! I love Reed. My kids. I knew it was wrong…and how much of a fool I was the second we finished. I won’t ruin their lives. I won’t. Please, promise me this stays between us?”

  Gripping her sister’s trembling body into a tight embrace, Sam whispered, “Of course, Suzanne. I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “Kip doesn’t know, right?”

  Suzy nodded in agreement. “Like I said, no one knows but us. Even if I wanted to tell him, which I don’t, it wouldn’t matter. No communication at all during the past two weeks. He didn’t even acknowledge me earlier while signing the guestbook. Not a peep. He got what he wanted then bolted. God, what a fool I am!”

  Sam thought back to the conversation with Kip days ago, cringing on the inside at the comment about staying away from Suzy. “He told me on Saturday he and Kathy are trying to work things out. Now that I know about this, his weird behavior makes sense. I assumed the edginess was from lack of sleep. You know, tired from driving?”

  Suzy ground her jaw. “Then my decision is the right one.”

  Though she hated to admit it since there was a small part of her excited about the prospect of playing with a baby, Sam nodded. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up before heading back out there. If anyone asks me, I’ll tell them you’re getting overly sentimental as forty nears.”

  Suzy snorted. “Funny.”

  “Humor is insanity’s next of kin. A little lesson I learned a long time ago when in a different bathroom dealing with another one of life’s fun pickles.”

  “Something with Richard?”

  Shivering at the memory, Sam nodded. “Yes. His idea of a romantic proposal was to beat the hell out of me then put the ring on my finger while I cowered on the floor covered in blood. Proposals are supposed to be memorable, so he aced one part.”

  “Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry.”

  “Meh, old news. There are other things requiring our full attention.”

  Suzy hung her head. “I’m aware. I called this morning and made an appointment at a clinic in Little Rock for Friday at ten a.m. I’m not having it done in Hot Springs. With the way my luck’s been running, someone I know will see me and it’ll get back to Reed. Will you come with?”

  “Of course. I’ll rearrange my appointments. Why don’t you tell Reed you’re staying with me a few days, you know, to help me with sorting out Nana’s stuff? That way, you can recover in peace at my place without arousing suspicion.”

  “Perfect! Thanks.”

  Suzy fiddled with her hair and makeup while Sam used the restroom. Once both finished, Sam opened the bathroom door, gasped, and then shut it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Richard’s standing by the main sanctuary door.”

  “He’s here? Are you serious?”

  “Yep. Shit. I’m in no mood to deal with him today.”

  “Me either, which means I’m about to unload all my…”

  “No, you aren’t.” Sam grabbed Suzy’s arm. “We made one scene today. I’m not putting on another for people to gossip about later. Go back to sit with the others. This is my problem. I’ll handle it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Sam nodded. “Positive. Go. Use the first door on the right. Don’t even look in his direction.”

  “Okay, but just remember—this is a funeral. We could use it to our advantage and bury two people today.”

  Sam chuckled. “How is it that I’m the one known for a dark sense of humor?”

  “Chalk it up to hormones.”

  Motioning for Suzy to leave, Sam waited until she slipped inside the sanctuary before stepping out into the vestibule. Richard noticed and smiled, nodding toward the front doors.

  Sam followed while discretely pushing the record button on her wa
tch. He stopped at the edge of the walkway.

  “You’re not welcome or wanted here, Richard. Leave, now.”

  Richard crossed his arms, forcing a look of sadness. “I came to pay my respects to the family mourning the loss of a loved one, which is the correct social protocol, right?”

  “Yes, though it only applies when the person is friends or close to the family, neither of which you are so leave.”

  “What a hurtful thing to say to the man who loves you, Samantha.”

  Despite the fear pounding inside her chest, Sam laughed. “Love? Richard Benton, you have no idea what the word means. The correct term for what you feel toward me is domination.”

  Richard grinned while his gaze swept over Samantha’s body. “You used to enjoy being dominated.”

  “Enjoy? Wrong word choice again, Richard. I tolerated your actions until I figured out a way to escape. Have you forgotten how I did so, and how easy it would be for me to remind you?”

  Richard tossed his head back, roaring with laughter. “Have you?”

  Edging closer as a wave of anger urged her on Sam glowered. “I’ll never forget the awful things you did to me, Richard. Never. Neither will Resa. She’s the one I’m protecting, not me. But you know what? After losing Nana, I did a lot of soul-searching. Life can be over in a flash, and I won’t spend the rest of mine looking over my shoulder, worried you might be lurking in the shadows, waiting to beat the hell out of me. Again.”

  “You’re beautiful when angry.” Richard moved his hand toward Samantha’s face. “The way your eyes sparkle; what the rush of blood does to your skin.”

  Sam held her position. “You aren’t listening to me, Richard. I’m telling you to leave me, and my family, alone. Forever. Period. Stop showing up, stop stalking us, stop sending random, cryptic texts and don’t ever leave any dead animals at my place again. We’re through and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind. I won’t spend my life with a man who enjoys using me as his personal punching bag because I’m worried about admitting to my family how you duped me. I told them and they rallied behind me. Game over.”

 

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