Chapter Seven - War Rooms

              The next day was Christmas Eve.  Sam and I walked into Mitchell Raines’ office to present him with what I had found.  I explained my opinion in full-detail, down to last night’s phone conversation with Mrs. Darren.  Mitchell sat back in his chair, rubbed his forehead and looked Sam and I straight in the eye.

         “Sam.  What do you think about this?”  Mitchell asked.

         Sam looked over at me quickly and then back to him.

         “Well, sir, I think we may have something here.  The evidence is worth looking further into.”  Sam said.

         Mitchell looked back at me, trying to read the expression on my poker face.

         “Alright.  What do you need from me?”  He asked.

         “The case re-opened.”  I said.

         Mitchell hesitated, creasing his eyes at me.

         “Alright.  Fine.  But you’re on thin ice here, Marty.” 

         “And, one other thing…”  I said.

         “And that is…”  Mitchell asked.

         “I’ll need a search warrant for my father’s house.”  I said.

         “Are you out of your mind!?”  Mitchell said.

         “You’re lucky I’m re-opening the case.  Don’t push it Lieutenant.”

         “If my father’s involved, these steps need to be taken.”  I said.

         Sam and I walked out of his office a short time later.  We went back to our desks to look over any new reports that had came in, when my phone rang.

         “Martin Winter.”  I answered.

         “Detective, this is Ray Miller from Lloyd’s Commerce Bank, how are you?”

         “Fine, thanks.  Any word on the check?”  I asked.

         “Sort of.  I’m afraid I have bad news.  We were unable to trace the origin of the funds transferred into Mrs. Darren’s account.  The trail went cold somewhere in the Caymans.  Who ever it was, knew what they were doing.”  He said.

         “Damn.  Okay.  Thanks Ray.”

         “Sure.”

         I hung up the phone and stared forward for a moment.  I decided it was time to call Mrs. Darren once more and give her some good news.

         “Hello.”  The familiar voice answered.

         “Hi, Mrs. Darren, it’s detective Winter again.” 

         “Well, hello again detective.”  She said.

         “I have good news for you.  The money is yours.  Do what you want with it.”

         “Oh my lord in heaven!”  She exclaimed.

         I couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction.

         “Consider it an early Christmas gift.”  I said.  “I’m sure you’ll spend it wisely.” 

         “Indeed I will detective, and thank you very much.”  She said.

         “No, thank you, Mrs. Darren.”  I said.

I hung up the phone and noticed Sam walking towards me. 

         “Hey, we may have a lead on the footage taken from the bank.  Forensics wants to see us.”  He said.

         “Let’s go.”  I said.

         We walked down to the lab at the back of the station.  We were greeted by Montgomery, a forensic video analyst who was never short on energy.  Everyone called him Montey for short.  He was shorter and younger than we were, and talked very fast as if he had drank too much caffeine.

         “Detectives, right this way!”  He said.

         He led us into his control lab that was filled with monitors and television screens.  Underneath the monitors was all the equipment necessary to power them. 

         “The footage is very raw and hasn’t given us very much.”  He said, sitting down.

         “What do you got?”  I asked.

         “Our facial recognition software will not work with this low resolution footage.  However, I did manage to enlarge a shot of the time stamp you specified, and found this.”  He typed in a few strokes on his keyboard and enlarged the video on the screen in front of us.  In the video we could see the five men in the bank, wearing winter coats and stocking hats.  But, the screen was very distorted and pixilated. 

         “What are we looking at here?”  Sam said,

         “Notice the one guy on the left at the teller.  He’s talking to the woman behind the counter.”  Montey said.

         “Okay?”  I said.

         “Look at his hands.”  Montey said.

         Suddenly it hit me.  The man at the left teller window was wearing dark gloves. 

         “I don’t know about you, but typically when I come in from the cold, I take my gloves off so my hands don’t get sweaty.”  Montey said, smiling.

         None of the other men in the footage had gloves on.

         “He kept his gloves on to keep his prints off the check?”  Sam asked.

         “That’d be my guess.”  Montey said.  “Look at the timestamp.  That’s when your ghostly deposit took place wasn’t it?” 

         “It’s him.”  I said.  “Can you move this footage forward slowly?” 

         “Sure.”

         Montey moved the footage forward in slow motion showing the man exiting the camera’s view with his gloves still on. 

         “I think you’re right.”  Sam said, looking at me. 

         “You might talk with the teller who was working that day.  Maybe she could give you a better description of him.” 

         “Thanks Montey, good work.  Keep that tape handy.”  I said.

         “That’s what I’m here for.”

Sam and I walked out of the lab and down the hallway. 

         “I’ll call Ray Miller at the bank and see if he can’t figure out who that woman was behind the counter that day.”

         Once again, Sam and I found ourselves in Lloyd’s Commerce Bank.  This time Ray sat us down in their break room next to his office. 

         “Detectives, this is Melanie Houston.  She was the one behind the first teller window that day.  Mel, this is detective Winter and detective Mitros.”

         “Hi there.”  She said smiling, shaking our hands.  She had a very delicate handshake.  Almost as if I squeezed her hand too hard, her cold hands would crumble.  She wore a yellow sweater that hid under her blonde hair, covering a white blouse.  She appeared to be a very perky person. 

         “How can I help you?”  She asked. 

         We all sat back down around the table, including Ray.

         “Melanie, this may be hard for you to remember, but I have to ask you to try your best, okay?”  I asked, sitting down.  She sat down across from Sam and I.

         “Okay.”  She said.

         “Three days ago, around 11:15 in the morning, there was a white male who wanted to make an anonymous deposit of a hundred thousand dollars into another member’s account.  Do you remember this?”  I asked.

         “Of course!  It’s not often we handle big amounts like that.”  She said.

         “Can you describe him to us?”  Sam asked.

         “Well, the whole thing was kind of awkward, really.  All he knew when he approached me was the member’s name, and that he wanted to deposit his check into her account.  It was, um, Olivia Darren’s account, if I remember right.”  She said.

         “That’s right.”  I said.  “Can you describe him to us?” 

         “The guy looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties.  He was a little shorter than you, five-seven, five-eight or so, medium build.  He also had a thick mustache under his nose that I swore looked fake.  I couldn’t see his hair color because he wore a stocking cap that covered it.  But he did keep his gloves on the whole time.  I thought that was kind of weird too.  It was like he was still cold from being outside or something.”  She said.

         I looked at Sam who looked back at me nodding. 

         “Anything else?”  Sam said.

         “His voice was weird too.”  She said.

         “How so?”  I asked.

         “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he was trying to purposely deepen it for some reason.  He came off sounding very throaty.”  She finished.

         “Okay, that helps a lot Melanie, thank you.”  Sam said. 

         We all stood up and Melanie walked towards me. 

“Sure, if there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”  She glanced me up and down while shaking my hand, trying to put forth a subtle come-on.  

         “Thank you.”  I said, offering a smile.

         Behind me I heard Sam snicker slightly.  I glanced back at him with a scowl, to which he responded with an innocent look. 

         “So, what’s next?”  Sam said, as we once again exited the bank. 

         “I think I’m going to pay my father a visit.  Alone.”  I said.

         “Are you sure that’s a good idea Marty?”  Sam said.

         “I’ll be fine, trust me.”  I said.

         It was dark by the time I pulled into my father’s driveway.  His yard had dim-lit lights that rested upon posts along each side of his driveway.  His house appeared warm and was lit in certain rooms.  I could see the light reflect down onto the light snow.  I got out of my car and started towards the door.  I knocked three times and that’s when I heard the sound of a gun echo through the air originating from inside the house.  I stepped back, pulled out my gun from my waist and kicked the front door in.  I held my gun outreached in search of a target through the house, when I heard my father speak. 

         “Marty, is…that you?” 

         His voice sounded weak and tattered. 

         “Dad?”  I said.

         “In here.”  He said.

         I walked into the living room and found him on the floor holding his arm.  His hand was bloody and his sweatshirt sleeve began to turn red as well.  

         “It’s okay…he’s gone.”  He said.

         I holstered my weapon and knelt down beside my father.

         “What happened?”  I asked.

         “I don’t know.  I came home a little while ago, and someone hit me over the head, and dragged me into the living room.” 

         I lifted his hand from the wound on his upper arm to get a closer look.

         “It’s not bad.  Bastard missed me.  Thanks to you.”  He said.

         “C-mon, let’s get you up.”  I said.

         I helped him to his feet and sat him on the couch.  I helped him take off his sweatshirt and he let out a groan in pain.  I took a closer look at the wound.

         “It looks like the bullet just grazed your arm.  I’ll get a bandage.”  I said.

         “They’re in the cabinet in the bathroom.  Top shelf.”  He said.

         I went to the bathroom and brought out the bandages.

         “Did you get a good look at him?”  I said.

         “No, he was wearing a mask.”  He said.

         “Did he say anything to you?”  I asked, cleaning his wound. 

         “Yeah, but not much.  He said, ‘It’s all your fault, you son of a bitch.’  Whatever the hell that means.  I was on the floor, still dizzy from when he hit me.  He had a gun pointed at me when he heard a knock at the door.  It must have startled him.  The gun went off, but I doubt he was aiming for my arm.”  He said.  “After that he ran out the back.  He’s probably long gone by now.” 

         I had finished cleaning his wound and had wrapped a bandage around his arm.

         “You may want to have this looked at.”  I said, referring to his arm. 

         “Thank God you came when you did, son.  I might be dead by now.” 

         I stood up and walked around the living room, looking for evidence.  I happen to notice the photographs on the mantle above the fireplace.  They were photos taken at the wedding of Jeni and I.  There were also photos of me at my academy graduation.  I realized how long it had been since I was in my father’s house.  It felt like years.  I pushed the thought away and resumed my search around the house.  The windows hadn’t been opened or broken, and there were no other signs of forced entry, aside from the front door I had kicked in.  I went to the back door that was still open and looked outside.  The tracks in the snow headed off down the street and disappeared soon after.  I was about to go back inside and close the door when I noticed a paper lying on the ground.  I reached into my pocket and put my right glove on. I bent down to pick it up and the fright consumed me.  It was a military photograph of Lara Matthews.  On the face of the photograph, written in marker, were the words, ‘She’s next.’

Coming up next:  Chapter Eight - Dayton's Secret

Chapter Six - What Tidings Ye Bring

Irv’s Lounge, 10:45 p.m.

Martin admired Kate’s willingness to listen in regards to what he was telling her.  She seemed empathetic, and wanted to hear more.  He was calmed by her demeanor, while she sat quietly listening, and un-interrupting.  He felt as though he could spill his entire life story to her, and she would listen intently for as long as it took.      

 “So your mother ended up Chicago?”  She asked.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What about Jeni’s parent’s?  What happened to them?”

“They died in a car accident when she was younger.”  Martin said. 

He sipped his beer and debated where to begin next, when he looked down in front of her and noticed she wasn’t drinking or eating anything. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?”  He asked.

“No, I’m fine thank you.”  She said smiling. 

“Aw, c’mon, I’ll buy you a beer…Hey Matty!?”  He said, looking over her shoulder. 

Matty was wiping down the bar and putting away his newly washed glasses.  He looked up at me upon hearing his name.

“How about a beer for my friend Kate here?”  Martin shouted to him.

“Really, I’m fine, thanks.”  Kate said.

“Marty, I think you’ve had enough!”  Matty shouted back. 

Martin found his response cryptic, or unwarranted.  But Matty went back to wiping just the same.  Martin felt puzzled by this, but his mind was redirected immediately.

“So, where were we?”  Asked Kate.

I figured it best to try and return to work in the following days after Jeni’s funeral.  Keeping my mind occupied on other things helped me to deal with the loss.  People continued to look at me different.  Word gets around fast in a small town, unfortunately.  Even at work, when I’d come in for the morning’s routine, the staff at the department would place these weak, fragile looks upon me, but keep their comments and condolences to themselves.  Lara would call me almost daily to see how things were going.  We wouldn’t talk about Jeni or even my thoughts on the situation.  Her efforts toward putting a sense of normalcy back into my life were never deterred.  I always admired her for that.  She’d ask about things in the department or what cases Sam and I were working on, and we had dinner together every couple days too. 

It had been two weeks since Jeni’s funeral.  Even though I tried involving myself in cases from the department, my thoughts dwelled on her and the reasons for her death.  I hadn’t heard from my father at all since that day at the cemetery.  Had he gone to my mother’s funeral?  I didn’t know, and a part of me didn’t care. 

I was finishing up some paperwork that morning when Sam ran up to my desk in a rush.

“Marty!  There’s someone here claiming to be James Darren’s mother.  She’s in the lobby.  She’s asking for you.”  He said.

“Put her in a room, I’ll be there in sec.”  I said.

Sam left my desk and walked back toward the lobby.  I joined him outside the interrogation room a few minutes later.  We both looked at her from behind the mirrored glass, wondering if whether or not she came here to file charges or to give us new information.  She was an older lady, probably mid to late sixties in age.  She wore a tan coat with a thin scarf underneath.  Her gray hair was pulled back in a small pony tail.  I decided it was time to enter the room, while Sam stood back and watched from behind the glass.

“Mrs. Darren?”  I said, walking in.

“Yes?” 

“I’m detective Winter, how do you do?”  I asked.

“I’m fine, thank you.”  She said.

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”  I said, sitting down.

“No, not at all.”  She replied. 

 “When was the last time you heard from your son, James?” 

“I spoke with him a month or so ago.  He had called to see how I was doing.”

“Can you describe your relationship with him?  Were you guys close?”  I asked.

“No, not at all.”  She said, chuckling.  “Jimmy and I have been worlds apart for many years.  Things got even worse when he was arrested for raping that girl.”

“Yeah, I remember, there wasn’t enough evidence to convict and the case was thrown out of court.”  I said.

“He claimed the incident was consensual, but I didn’t believe him.  No one did.”  She said.  “And I’m very sorry for the loss of your wife, detective.  That must have been horrible.  It’s strange that after what he went through all those years ago, he would do it again.” 

“Happens all the time.”  I said.

“It’s a good thing you got there when you did.  Jimmy might have been my son, but I don’t blame you for what you did.  As far as I’m concerned he got what was coming to him.”  She said.

I was surprised by her remarks.  I sat across the table before the mother of a son I’d killed, yet she showed no visible anger toward me.  She was practically thankful. 

“Did James ever mention anything about a woman named Jeniveve Winter that you can remember?”  I asked. 

“No.”  She said shaking her head. 

“What about a man named Dayton?”  I said.

“Nope.”  She shook her head again.  “Listen Detective, there is a reason why I came here today, but it wasn’t to talk about Jimmy.”  She said.

“Okay…”

“Two days ago, I went to the bank in the morning, like I always do to take out some money.  When the teller gave me my receipt, my bank account was a little off.” 

“How so?”  I asked.

“The receipt said I had a hundred and two thousand dollars in there!”  She said.

“And I’m guessing you don’t-“

“Heavens no!  Where the hell would an old lady like me get that kind of money!?” 

“Maybe the bank made a mistake.”  I said.

“It’s no mistake, detective.  The bank claimed an anonymous deposit was made the day before into my account.  According to them, I have a hundred and two thousand dollars!” 

“Mrs. Darren, can you tell me how much the deposit was for?” 

“One hundred thousand even.”  She said. 

“Could you provide me with a bank statement?”

“Sure.  I brought it with me.” 

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to me.  I read over each line amount on the document, and what she had said was true.

“Has this kind of thing ever happened to you before?”  I asked, already knowing the answer.

“I wish!”  She said, laughing. 

“Tell you what, I’ll talk to the bank and see if we can find out who made the deposit.  For right now, I’m going to have to ask you not to make any withdrawals from your accounts for a little while.  Is there a phone number where I can reach you at?”

“Of course.” 

She wrote down her number on the bank statement in front of me.

“I’ll be in touch as soon as I know more.”  I said, standing up.  Sam opened the door to the room slowly.

“Thank you, detective.  And again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”  She said, walking out.  

“Thank you, Mrs. Darren.”  I said.

         “So, her kid dies a few weeks ago, and someone deposits a hundred grand into her account?”  Sam asked.

         “So it would seem.”  I said, looking down at the statement. 

         “What do you want to do?”

         “Let’s check out the bank.  Maybe we can get something off of their cameras.”

         We pulled up to Lloyd’s Commerce Bank a short time later.  I had remembered walking in the place not so long ago in search of the safety deposit box.  Sam and I walked up to the bank teller window and politely asked to speak to a manager.  A few moments later, a very large man approached us.

         “Hello.  I’m Ray Miller.  How can I help you?”  He said.

He was shorter than I was, but much heavier.  He wore a suit that looked a size too small and had a small mustache hidden beneath his nose. 

         “I’m detective Winter, and this is detective Mitros.  We’re interested in a deposit that was made a few days ago into one of your member’s accounts.”  I said.

         “Come into my office.”  He said, leading the way down the hallway. 

         We followed him down to the end of the hallway and walked into his office.  It was incredibly disorganized with papers and legal documents in stacks all over his desk. 

         “Have a seat.”  He said, sitting down behind his desk.

         “Who’s account is in question?”  He asked.

         I looked down at the statement in front of me.

         “The member’s name is Olivia Darren.  Account number 5868136.”  I said.

         “Ah, Ms. Darren.  Charming old lady eh?”  He said, punching the numbers into his computer.

         “What is it that you need to know?”  He asked.

         “According to my paperwork, there was a deposit made a few days ago for a hundred thousand dollars.  We’d like to known the source.” 

“Let’s see here…”  He said, reading his computer screen.  “Yep…you are correct.  The deposit was made by…uh…it was anonymous.” 

“We know that, we were wondering if you could trace the source.  It’s a police matter.”  Sam said.

         “I’m sorry detectives.  I’ll do what I can, but when someone wishes their deposit to be anonymous, we have to respect that.”  Ray said.

         “We understand.  But is there any way to tell where the money cleared from?”  I asked.

         “I can tell you it was a cashier’s check for the exact amount.  Anything beyond that would require a call to headquarters.”  He said.

         “Can you look into it for us, and let us know if you find anything?”  I asked, handing him my business card.

         “Certainly detectives.” 

         “We’d like to look at your security tapes from two days ago as well.”  Sam said. 

         “Sure, follow me.”  Ray said.

         He led us down another hallway, through a locked door and then into a room filled with monitors. 

         “We keep the data tapes in here filed by date.”

         He unlocked another room that was adjacent to the monitor room that appeared to be a giant storage room, filled with shelves and thousands of data tapes. 

         “Just find the one you need, insert it there and your video will play on the monitors above.”  He said pointing to the control system. 

         “Thanks.”  I said.

         Sam and I searched through the data tapes until we found the one we needed.  I grabbed it and put it into the playback device and hit play. 

“What’s the time-stamp on the deposit into her account?”  Sam said.

         “11:17 a.m.”  I said. 

Sam hit fast-forward on the machine until that time became near.  He stopped it at 11:15 and we both sat back and watched.  At this instance, there were five men inside the bank.  Two of them were at the two tellers and the other three were waiting in line.  We watched in anticipation of recognizing one of them.  They were all roughly the same height, wearing similar clothing.  It was difficult to decipher an identity from the black and white video.  I turned to Ray who was still standing behind us.

         “Do you have a camera angle from behind the teller stations?”  I asked.

         “Normally we do.  But in the last week, that one broke and hasn’t been replaced yet.”  He replied.

         This particular camera angle was much too far away to determine an exact match to an identity.  All we could tell was that there five men that approached and used the teller stations at that time, all Caucasian. 

“Do you mind if we take this tape with us for further analysis?”  Sam asked.

“No, not at all.”  Ray said.

“Thank you, we’ll return it as soon as we’re finished with it.”  I said, shaking Ray’s hand. 

“No problem.  Take all the time you need.”  He said. 

         Sam and I walked out of the bank and got back into our car.

         “Marty, if Raines finds out we’re doing this, he’s gonna have our ass man.”  Sam said.

         “That’s why I’m going to tell him.”  I said, smiling.

         “You’re going to what?!”  Sam said.

         “Look, if this deposit was made by the person who orchestrated Jeni’s murder, that’s enough to re-open the investigation.”  I said.

         “I don’t know.  It seems like a stretch to me.”  Sam said, starting the car.

         “Think about it Sam.  Suppose our boy Darren was supposed to make it out of my house alive that night.  Someone could’ve offered him the hundred grand for the murder.  I take him down, and the money goes to his mother instead.”  I said.

         “Okay, I’ll humor you.  Say someone did contract Darren for the murder.  His contract was fulfilled, but he gets dead in the process.  Why would they then pay the hundred grand to his mother?  It doesn’t make sense.”  Sam said.

         “Maybe it was out of sympathy for the loss of her son.”  I said.  I knew how that sounded.  I was reaching, but deep down, I knew I was right.

         “Like I said man, that’s a stretch.”  Sam said.

         As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right.  I wanted Jeni’s case re-opened, and I was grasping at straws to get it there.  I needed more evidence to convince Raines that it was necessary. 

That night Lara was coming over for dinner.  I had come to enjoy her company and her friendship.  Sometimes she would help me prepare the meal, other times I would have it done before she arrived.  I had the table set and the chicken only had a few more minutes to go in the oven, when the doorbell rang.

         “Hi there.”  I said.  “C’mon in.” 

         “Thanks.”  She said, smiling.

         I took her coat and hung it in the closet in the foyer. 

         “Smells good in here!”  She said, rubbing her hands together.

         “On the menu tonight…roasted garlic chicken and red potatoes.”  I said, walking back to the kitchen.

         “Care for a drink?”  I asked.

         “Sure.”

         I poured her a glass of wine and she sat down at the table, while I went to the oven to pull out the chicken. 

         “So, Martin, I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but I was wondering what your plans are for Christmas.”  She asked, politely.

         I’d almost forgotten.  Christmas.  The idea of the holiday made my stomach sink.  I hesitated for a moment, staring at the steaming chicken on the stovetop. 

         “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

         “No, no.  It’s okay.  I just hadn’t thought about it at all.  This will be my first Christmas without-“  I stopped.  I couldn’t finish the sentence. 

         “I know.  I thought that if you weren’t busy, you could come over.  I could make a nice dinner and we could just hang out.”  She said.  Her voice had taken on a different, newer, polite tone that I wasn’t used to.  “You shouldn’t spend it alone.”  She finished.

         “I could buy a dog.”  I said, smiling to her.  “I’ve always wanted a dog.” 

         “Yes, you could.”  She said laughing.  “But I doubt that it could cook like I do.”

“That’s very nice.  Really.  I don’t know.  I just hadn’t really thought about it.”  I said.  And that was the truth.  But the idea of spending Christmas day alone in my house scared the hell out of me. 

         “I wouldn’t want to impose on you though.  I’m sure you’ve got family who wants to see you, right?”  I asked.

         “I have family, yes.  But they’re in Colorado this year visiting my sister.  Every year we flip-flop.  Sometimes I fly there to meet them, but this year I just couldn’t afford it.”  She said.   

         “I see.”  I said, walking up to the table.  I placed the chicken platter down in front of us and I sat down.

         “You’re welcome to come.”  She said.

         “Thanks Lara.  I think I will.”  I said, smiling.  “Now, let’s dig in.”

         We ate our food and made fun, light conversation.  She told me more stories of her time in Afghanistan and other things about her life.  She worked as graphic artist out of her home.  She lived off of her commissions and other earnings she’d take in from her business.  Lara was very independent and enjoyed the quieter, more subtle details of life in general.  She told me it was one of the reasons she moved up here in the first place.  She loved the peaceful tranquility that the upper lands of Michigan had to offer.

         “We had an interesting development today at work.”  I said.  Never before had I wanted to let her in on the details that clouded my mind regarding my wife’s death.  But I thought it was time to do so, and maybe doing so would give me a different perspective on things.

         “How so?”  She said.

         “Well, the man I killed, James Darren…his mother came into the station this morning.” 

         “That couldn’t have been good.”  She said.

         “It was quite the opposite actually.  She didn’t blame me for what I did.  Apparently, she was well aware of her son’s destructive nature long before he attacked Jeni.” 

         “Wow.”  She said.

         “Yeah, I was surprised too.  It made me feel a little better about the whole thing.  But it gets better.  Two days ago, someone deposited a hundred grand into her bank account.  And that’s why she came down to the station.”

         “I’m assuming it wasn’t the bank’s mistake?”  She asked. 

         “No.  The deposit was legit.  But it came from an anonymous source by cashier’s check.  Sam and I went to the bank today to find all this out.  We have forensics trying to capture better images off their security tapes, and the manager is trying to trace the source of the check, but so far we’ve got nothing.”  I said.

         “What does this mean?”  She asked.

         “If my theory is right, I believe someone contracted Darren to pull off the murder.  When he died inadvertently, the money went to his only surviving family, his mother.” 

         “That’s deep.”  She said, raising her eyebrows. 

         “Do you think it’s possible?”  I asked her.

         “Well, it’s not impossible.  I’m struggling with the fact of why they would make a deposit into his mother’s account, having essentially been successful in the first place, if you don’t mind me saying.”  She said.

         “I understand.  But what if they didn’t anticipate on Darren getting killed?  It could’ve generated sympathy with who ever it was having caused Mrs. Darren the loss of her only son.”

         “I don’t know, Martin.”  She said.

         Just then, I had a newer, scarier thought.  I jumped up from my seat and began to pace the kitchen.

         “Oh man.”  I said, continuing my pace.

         “Generated sympathy.”  I mumbled to myself. 

         “What do you mean?  What are you thinking?”  Lara asked.

“Mrs. Darren said that James called her a month or so ago, and that their relationship was rocky, or non-existent.”

         “Okay, so?”

         “So, if you’re at odds with someone, especially your family, would you call them out of the blue?  Just to see how they’re doing?”

         “I doubt it, unless I had a good reason.”  Lara said.

         “Exactly!”  I said, stopping in front of her.

         “What are you saying, Martin?” 

         “Hang on a second.”  I said.

         I walked over to the counter where Mrs. Darren’s bank statement was.  I remembered I wrote her phone number down on it.  I grabbed the cordless phone nearby and dialed her number. 

         “Hello?”  She said.  I recognized her voice immediately.

         “Hi, Mrs. Darren.  This is detective Winter calling.  Sorry to bother you so late.”

         “Oh, hi there.  No problem.  Did you find out who deposited that money yet?”

         “We’re working on that, I promise.  I actually called to ask you a little more about your son.”

         “Okay.”  She said.

         “You said earlier today that he called you a month or so ago to see how you were, is that right?” 

         “Yes.”

         “Did he seem agitated, or nervous to you in any way?”

         “Now that you mention it, he did, yes.  I asked him about it, but he said it was nothing.  I was actually very surprised he called me.  He just kept asking me questions about how I was and what I had been doing.  He even asked me what I normally did every day.  Before that, I couldn’t remember the last time I spoke with him.  It was very weird.”  She said.

         “Thank you, Mrs. Darren.  That’s all I needed for now.  And I’ll be in touch.”

         “Okay.”

         I placed the phone down on the counter, and looked back to Lara who had this in need of an answer look painted on her face. 

         “Someone threatened her life to Darren.”  I said. 

Coming up next:  Chapter Seven - War Rooms 

Chapter Five - Aftershock

             The next few days went by slower and without much incident.  I had returned home and was getting around pretty well.  Sam and Lara both helped with the arrangements surrounding Jeniveve’s funeral, which was scheduled for later that day.  The whole idea behind the arrangements seemed utterly surreal to me.  I found myself pushing away the sorrow by focusing on needless details and facets of the ceremony.  I knew that if I kept busy enough, I wouldn’t have the time to cry, or face the reality of the situation. 

         Sam and Lara were downstairs in the living room making light conversation.  I was upstairs in my bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror.  Even though I wore my best suit and tie, my appearance seemed different and jaded.  The reflection in the mirror was not of a man I knew a week prior.  This was what the reflection of a widower looked like.  I wasn’t sure if I could go through with the eulogy at her funeral.  But it was the right thing to do.  She deserved that much.  I had to push through. 

         I heard the doorbell ring a moment later, so I decided to go downstairs.  I opened the front door to find Mitchell Raines standing there.  He was dressed in a black suit with a blue tie.  I wasn’t sure why he had come to my house.  What bothered me more, was the look that drooped on his face when he saw me open the door. 

         “Mitchell.  I thought we were going to meet at the-“

         “Yeah.”  He interrupted, looking down at himself. 

         “I’ve got some news.”  He continued. 

         I looked down and in his hand was a holstered gun and badge.  I suspected it was mine. 

         “C’mon in.”  I said.

         I led him inside, down the hallway to the kitchen where Sam and Lara were.

         “Hey cap.”  Sam said.

         Mitchell gave a nod and then looked at Lara, while I stepped forth with the introduction.

         “Mitchell, this is Lara Matthews.  Lara, this is Captain Mitchell Raines from our department.”  I said.

         “Nice to meet you ma’am.”  He said.

         “You too Captain.”  Lara said, shaking his hand. 

         “She’s a marine.  You better watch your mouth or she’ll kick your ass.”  Sam said, with a mouth full of chips. 

         Mitchell chuckled lightly, afterwards turning to me.

         “Marty, can I talk to you for a second?” 

         “Sure.”  I said.

         We walked through the newly replaced patio door and onto the deck.  I closed the door behind us.

         “Marty, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but I thought you should know before the funeral.”  He said.

         “Okay?”  I said.

There was hesitation and sadness in his voice.  It wasn’t the usual over-bearing tone he had in the past. 

         “We got Jeniveve’s autopsy back this morning.”  He said.

         “And?”  I said.

         “They found conclusive evidence stating she died from her injuries inflicted by Darren that night.  I won’t get into the details surrounding that, other than that it was obvious she put up a hell of a fight.  She held out long enough for you to get there. 

         “Yeah.”  I said, looking down fighting back the tears once more. 

         “But there was something else.”  He said.

         I looked back up at him and his face had changed, just as mine had.  He wasn’t the same person I knew a week ago. 

         “She was pregnant.”  He said.

         The words felt like piercing knives into my stomach that began to twist.  My breath left me.  I fell to my knees and the tears won the fight upward.  I buried my face in my hands and began to sob uncontrollably.  I could hear Sam and Lara running for the patio door.  They came out quickly to see what had happened.  Sam knelt next to me trying to lift me from the deck. 

         “C’mon buddy, let’s get you inside.” 

         Mitchell and Lara soon followed.

         Sam sat me on the couch and then sat down next to me. 

         “What’s happened?”  She asked.

         Sam and Lara looked at Mitchell for the answer, but he didn’t give it in time.

         “She was…pregnant.”  I said, crying. 

         “Oh my God, I’m so sorry Martin.”  Lara said, sitting down next to me. 

         Sam was speechless.  I don’t think he knew what to say.  I didn’t either.

         “The doctors said she was four to five weeks along.  It’s possible she didn’t even know.  I’m sorry man.”  Mitchell said. 

         I nodded to him with my face still in my hands.  My breath slowly started to return.  I looked up slowly.  I could taste my tears.  My nose was running and my cheeks were soaked.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt worse in my life.  I didn’t think it was even possible to experience this level of sorrow. 

         Jeni and I weren’t actively trying for a baby.  We had talked about it from time to time, but never established a sort of time table for having a child.  Both of our jobs kept us busy, like anyone else.  I was constantly working late on the force, while she had clients coming and going.  I doubt she had known she was even pregnant.  That wasn’t the kind of information she would’ve kept hidden from me.

         Lara was rubbing my back, trying to bring me back to some sort of comfort level.  Sam sat next to me staring sympathetically, while Mitchell knelt down beside the coffee table in front of me. 

         “Marty, you can take as much time off as you need.  But, it’s time I returned these to you…Lieutenant.”

He laid the holstered gun and badge on the coffee table.  Sam and Lara both waited for a reaction from me.

         “What about her case?”  I asked, trying regain my composure.

         “What about it?”  He said.

         “I want it.”  I said.

         “It’s closed for now Marty.  Darren’s dead and we have no evidence that suggests anyone else was involved.” 

         “My father is…somehow.”  I said.

         “Dayton?”  Mitchell said, letting out a sarcastic chuckle.

         “No way.  What would ever make you say that?”  He asked.

         “Jeni told me.  Right before she died.”  I said.

         Mitchell sighed and looked down for a moment. 

         “Marty, Darren was a small-time crook who got in over his head.  The loser got what he deserved.  You’re going to be better off figuring out a way to move past all this.  You’re a good cop.  One of our best.  Don’t taint your reputation by going after your father.  He’s still very respected by the department.”

         “The harder they fall.”  I said, starting forward. 

         Mitchell stood up quickly. 

         “It’s over Marty.  That’s an order.  I’m sorry.” 

         I looked into his eyes.  I was angry at him for turning his back like this.  Nevertheless, I did understand his point of view.  I couldn’t tell him about the phone I had found on Darren, much less the phone calls he made beforehand to Jeni.  And, I sure as hell wasn’t going to give him the files I had on my father either. 

         “When you’re ready to come back in the field, Sam will be with you.  You’ll be partners once more, until the dusts settles from all this.”  Mitchell said.

         “I’ll see you at the funeral.”  He concluded.

              The church was warmly lit under the cloudy sky.  There was a single isle down the center and rows of benches filled with people on each side.  I sat in the front row just to the left of the center isle.  Next to me was Lara and then Sam.  Behind me sat most of the police officers and staff from our department.  The rest of the place was filled with faces I recognized, as well as some I didn’t.  Jeni’s parents would be here too if they were alive.  Jeni’s casket was positioned at center stage, in front of the altar, with many flowers resting on top, surrounded by four candles on pedestals.  The murmurs from the crowd began to grow quiet when a priest came out and stood in front of the podium. 

         “My friends, we are gathered together on this somber day to pay farewell to one of our own, Jeniveve Winter…”

         The priest’s words began to fade, as my mind became lost in surfacing memories of her.  I imagined that I was back at home resting in my bed on a warm Saturday morning.  Jeniveve was slowly waking next to me.  I would watch her for hours asleep.  She wouldn’t notice, and if she did, I would pretend I had just woke up myself.  She would move closer to me, putting her leg across mine.  She would kiss my cheek, say good morning, and then she would nestle her head on my chest just beneath my chin.  Sometimes I would tickle her and she’d laugh, begging me to stop.  Afterwards, she’d straddle me and we’d make love for what seemed like hours.

         I suddenly felt a nudge in the arm from Lara next to me.  I looked over and she was telling me with her eyes to go forward.  It was my turn to speak.  It was my turn to say goodbye to my wife.  I got up slowly.  I could feel the crowd’s eyes behind me following my every step.  I stood in front of the podium for a moment and looked up.  Everyone in the church was staring at me.  It was very unsettling.

         “I’d like to thank everyone for coming out here today.  It means a lot to me.  And to Jeni.  I’m reminded of one her favorite quotes by Alfred Souza.  He once told us to love as though we have never been hurt before and to live as though heaven is on earth.  I haven’t quite figured out how to do that because my heaven was taken from me.  The earth I see now is different and somehow colder.  The fire that kept me warm has gone out.”

         Just then, one of the back doors to the church opened and my father slowly walked in.  Most of the crowd didn’t notice.

         “But if Jeni were here today, she wouldn’t have said that.  She’d say that I was being negative or that I was focusing too much on the bad side of things.  Because that’s who she was…a person of optimism.  She’d say to worry about the things you can change, and how you alone can make a difference in your own life.  Jeni had an open heart to all those who surrounded her.  And she found hope for those who had lost it.  All of you showing up here today, is a reflection of that.”

         I looked down at her casket once more, and the tears began to surface again.  I fought hard to hold them back, but the crackling in my voice was giving me away.  It was useless to fight.  I looked at Sam and then Lara who both began to have watery eyes.  This of course made matters worse for me. 

         “A few days ago, I was involved in a bad car accident.  My left arm was broken, as were a few of my ribs.  One of lungs was punctured, and I was within an inch of losing my life.  A stranger came to my aid that night.  A woman.  She called for help and pulled me out of my wrecked car before it caught fire and exploded.  She waited with me until the paramedics got there.  This woman saved my life that night.  I’d like to believe that this is proof to me that Jeni would’ve wanted me to go on living.  I’d also like to think that she found a way to give me hope in one of my darkest hours, through a stranger I didn’t know.  I’m proud to say that this stranger is now a dear friend of mine named Lara.  She sits there in the front row, next to my partner Sam.”

         Lara looked up at me in tears, trying to put forth a thank you smile.  Sam put his arm around her, trying to comfort her. 

“Lara is proof to me that Jeni would’ve wanted me to go on.  To go on living as if she were walking in the steps beside me.  I’ll prefer to remember her, not by how she died, but by how she encouraged us all to live, in this place she thought of…as heaven.  Thank you.”

         I stepped away from the podium, and walked down to the casket.  I reached over and touched its cold surface and thought, ‘goodbye my love, and Godspeed.’  I walked back to my seat on the bench.  I could still feel the crowd’s eyes following me. Lara hugged me and Sam put his hand on my shoulder after I sat down. 

The ceremony ended a little while later.  We carried her casket out of the church and placed it into the hearse.  Afterwards, people began to make their way out of the church.  There was a long line of cars that followed us to the cemetery.  The headlights and orange flags seemed to go back for miles.  Upon arriving at the burial site, the priest said a few more words before everyone started to walk away quietly.  Sam, Lara and I were the last ones to leave.  We headed back to our car when I noticed my father standing next to it. 

“You did a good job at the church, son.”  He said.

“Thanks.”  I said.

Sam and Lara got into the car and closed the doors.  I stood outside of the car with my hands in pockets waiting for him to speak.

“Jeni was a great kid.”  He said, looking out over my shoulder at the casket.  “Everyone loved her.” 

“Not everyone.”  I said. 

My father’s eyes shifted back to me, as if he was surprised by what I had said.

“There’s something you’re not telling me Dad.  If I find out that you were involved in her death, so help me God…”  I stopped what I was saying.  There was no need for me to finish the sentence.  I opened the passenger-side door and put one foot inside the car.

“I would never hurt Jeni, Marty.  You know that.  I’m your father for Christ’s sake!” 

I turned back toward him.  He was glaring at me with serious eyes. 

“We’ll see, won’t we?”  I said.

“You should know too, that I’m going to your mother’s funeral in Chicago.  I leave later today.  You could come with me…”  He said. 

I hesitated for a moment looking at him.

“I told you once already.  As far as I’m concerned, my mother died fifteen years ago.”  I said, getting into the car.  “Drive safe.”  His face fell with disappointment as I closed the car door.

I felt guilty saying that to him.  But my anger had consumed me for far too long regarding the acts of my mother.  A part of me could understand his compassion for her.  After all, he was the one who married her.  There was still love there, even though her actions had driven them apart many years before. 

“Marty, I hope you don’t mind me asking…”  Lara started.  “But, I take it you’re not on good terms with your mother?”

“That’s right.  She was an alcoholic who left my father and I fifteen years ago.  I haven’t seen or heard from her since.  I had no idea where she was.  Apparently in the last week, she died.”  I said.

“And you’re not going to the funeral?”  She asked.

“Nope.” 

“Well, it must be hard for your father.  You don’t think you should be there for him at a time like this?” 

I saw Sam look over at me out of the corner of my eye.

“Not until I figure out the reasons behind Jeni’s death.”  I said.

Coming up next:  Chapter Six - What Tidings Ye Bring