Big Daddy Sinatra: There Was a Ruthless Man (The Sinatras of Jericho County Book 1) (28 page)

“Yes,”
she said.
 
“I believe in getting things
out in the open. I believe in telling the truth and nothing but the truth. I
believe--”

“You
believe in bullshitting people day and night,” Charles interrupted her.
 
“Yeah, I know what you believe.
 
I just want to make sure you know what I
believe.
 
I believe that if you try to
turn this pregnancy into the talk of the town, and try to make a mockery out of
this good woman right here, then I believe you’re going to have some
difficulties.
 
I believe you’ll get on my
bad side.
 
And you don’t want to get on
my bad side.”

Abby
hesitated.
 
“What are you talking about?”

“Go
around town talking.
 
Try to make it
appear as if you have some upper hand on her relationship with me.
 
Try to make her look bad.
  
And you’ll see exactly what I’m talking
about.”

“I
don’t know what you’re implying.
 
I told
you about the pregnancy, and I expect you to show honor and respect and do what
any man of honor would do.”

“I’ll
take care of my responsibility.
 
I told
you that.
 
But that will not include
marrying you.”

Abby’s
heart pounded, but she refused to let her anguish show.
 
She didn’t get pregnant because she wanted a
baby!
 
The last thing on the face of this
earth she wanted was a baby.
 
She got
pregnant to force his hand.
 
His marriage
hand!
 
Now he was talking as if he wasn’t
going to go along.
 
He was talking as if
he wasn’t about to agree.
 

And
the fact that he would bring that woman with him.
 
That should have said it all to her.
 
She could put her beauty on display, and try
to get him to see what he would be missing if he gave her up, but it wasn’t
going to do a damn bit of good.
 
People
were already talking about how different Charles treated his new bed warmer.
 
People were beginning to suggest he might
actually love the woman.
 
Abby doubted if
Charles knew the meaning of love, but one thing was for certain: she was on her
way out, and this one, this new one, was in.
 

She
decided, for her own self-respect, to reverse it.
 
“Did you mention marriage?” she asked, as if
she couldn’t believe he would suggest such a thing.
 
“Who says I would ever want to marry
you?
 
I liked our relationship just the
way it was.
 
Now a child is
involved.
 
You do what’s right by this
child, and you’ll have no problems from me.”

Charles
expected far more fireworks from Abby.
 
She’d been discreet throughout their long-term affair, but she seemed
desperate in his office this morning.
 
But now she was claiming marriage wasn’t on her radar screen.
 
She was lying.
 
He knew she was lying.
 
But just as long as she knew that he was not.

He
stood up, with Jenay rising too.
 
“I’ll
take care of my child,” he said.
 
“But
that’s as far as I’ll go.”

“That’s
as far as I want you to go,” Abby responded with umbrage.
 
“You need to stop suggesting otherwise. You’re
telling me not to make a mockery out of her.
 
Then stop making
 
a mockery out
of
 
me!”

Charles
looked at her.
 
A lesser man would have
been touched by her bravery, by her independence, and would never think of it
as what it was: an act.
 
An Academy Award-winning
performance.
 
Charles and Jenay
left.
 
He felt he had gotten his point
across.

But
as soon as he left out of her house, and drove off of her property, Abby went
ballistic.
 
She threw things and trashed
the room.
 
She cursed from the top of her
lungs.
 
By the time Reeva and the maid
made it into the living room, she had slumped down on the floor, and was
sobbing.
 

They
both looked at each other, wondering more about the future of their employment
than the future of their hateful employer, and then hurried to her side.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Norm
told horror story after horror story about his new job as a chef on a cruise
ship, and Jenay couldn’t stop laughing at his funny spin on every episode.
 
She had her computer’s webcam on, and had
been videoconferencing with her two old friends from hospitality school, Norm
and Denise, for nearly half an hour.
 
This was their Saturday ritual.
 
They always took time from their busy schedules, to stay in touch.

“The
Three Oddateers,” Norm said.
 
“One day
we’ll be together.”

“Yes,
we will,” Jenay agreed.
 
“But you have
got to get off of that cruise ship gig first.”

Norm
laughed.
 
“Isn’t it crazy?
 
Me on a cruise ship?
 
And it’s not like it’s a luxury liner.
 
It stays in port and take old ladies up and
down the bay from six at night to midnight.”
 
They laughed.
 
“I always dreamed
of owning my own restaurant, or working in the best of the best of five-star
places.
 
And this is what I do for a
living.”

“Well,
I’m happy,” Denise declared.
 
She was seated
behind her desk at her home office, and was rubbing the bottom tip of her long
hair.

“You
have no job,” Norm said, “but you’re happy?”

“I
have a good man.
 
He’s taking care of
me.”

Norm
shook his head.
 
“Talk to your girl,
Nay.
 
Talk to your girl.
 
Relying on a man is not the way to go.
 
I should know.
 
So should you.”

Jenay
smiled.
 
She was cutting up potatoes at
her kitchen countertop.
 
“I talked to
her,” she said.
 
“Repeatedly.
 
I told her about the mistakes we made.
 
But she seems to think our fate won’t become
hers.”

“It
won’t,” Denise said.
 
“Mark is really
good to me.
 
He loves me.”

“Peter
loved me too,” Norm said.
 
“Until he
didn’t.”

“Quince
loved me too,” Jenay said.
 
“Until he
didn’t.”

“Whatever,”
Denise said.
 
“All I can speak for is
Mark.
 
And he loves me.
 
He takes care of me.
 
I’m happy.”

“What
can you say?” Norm asked Jenay.
 
“And
speaking of men, how’s yours?”

Jenay
hesitated.
 
She hated that she told them
about Charles.
 
But she needed somebody
to talk to about it!
 
“He’s okay.”

“He’s
still gorgeous?” Norm asked.

Jenay
smiled.
 
“He would say yes.”

“He
seem mean to me,” Denise said.
 
“I don’t
like him.”

“You
don’t have to like him,” Norm said
 
“Jenay does.
 
And she’s head over
heels.”

“I
don’t know about that,” Jenay said as she tossed a peeled potato in her bowl of
water.

“I
know about it,” Norm said.
 
“You didn’t
pack up and move all the way to boring-ass Maine for your health.
 
And you certainly didn’t move there to run
some small town B & B, I don’t care how luxurious you claim it is.
 
You went to Maine for that man.
  
Period.
 
Full stop.
 
End of discussion.”

“You
are so judgmental, Norman,” Denise said.
 
“You think you know everything.”

“Not
everything,” he admitted.
 
“But I know
Jenay Franklin.”

The
doorbell rang just as Denise was about to lash back at Norm.
 
“Got to go, guys,” Jenay said, feeling as if
she was saved by the bell.
 
“We’ll talk
later.”

“Bye
girl,” Norm said.

“Be
good,” Denise said.

Jenay
clicked off.
 
And then she wiped her
hands on a dish cloth and, with cloth still in her hand, she hurried for her
front door.
 

She
looked out of her peephole, saw that it was Brent, and gladly opened up.
 
Donnie was a bust, in terms of her
relationship with Charles’s children, but Brent and Tony had been wonderful.
 
She rarely ever saw Robert.

“Hello,
Brent, come on in!” she said.

Brent
hugged her lightly and then entered her small home.
 
“Cooking something?”

“I
haven’t started yet.
 
I was peeling some
potatoes.”

“Oh,
okay.
 
Dad here?
 
I saw his car out front.”

“He’s
in the back.
 
In the bedroom.”

“He’s
still in bed, isn’t he?”

Jenay
laughed. “Almost,” she said.
 
“I heard
the shower running, so I think he’s up now.
 
But that father of yours?
 
He is
not a morning person.”

“And
he never will be,” Brent said as he made his way down the hall that led to the
master bedroom.
 
When he walked in, his
father, standing in his boxer’s, was just putting on his shirt.
 

“Good
morning,” Brent said.
 
“Or should I say
good afternoon?”

Charles
began buttoning his shirt.
 
“How did you
know I was here?”

“Come
on, Dad.
 
Since you met Miss Jenay you
haven’t been exactly unpredictable.
 
If
you’re not home, or at your office, you’re either here or at the Inn.
 
I took my chances and came here first.”

Charles
looked at him.
 
He wasn’t buying it.

“Okay,”
Brent said.
 
“Tony told me you spent the
night here.
 
Satisfied?
 
So I came on over.”

“Why?
 
And please don’t tell me Kerstin’s father
needs a loan or some other friend of yours need my help. I’m not in the helping
mood this morning.”

“You’re
never in the helping mood,” Brent said.
 
“And no, I’m not coming here to ask for any help of any kind.”

“Then
what is it?”

Brent
leaned against the side of the dresser.
 
“The DA seems to think Donnie might have to do at least a year in
jail.
 
There’s no way around it.”

Charles
exhaled.
 
He still had an ache in his
heart for his son’s dilemma.
 
But this
crime was different.
 
He could have
killed that girl, not to mention her baby.
 
“Is there anything we can do?”

“If
you testify on his behalf.
 
To his
character,” Brent added, “then the defense attorney thinks that can really help
Donnie.
 
Everybody in town knows how you
don’t sugarcoat anything.
 
The jury will
believe you.”

“Your
brother is a mess, and you know it,” Charles said.
 
“If I get on that stand and tell the truth,
he’ll get ten years.
 
No.
 
This is one fuckup he’s going to have to
swallow.”

“So
you think he should take the plea?”

“The
offer of one year? Yes,” Charles said. “He deserves many more years than that.”

“That’s
true,” Brent said.
 
“And I’ll tell
him.
 
He says every time he calls you, he
gets upset.”

“Because
I don’t go along with his nonsense.
 
He
needs to finally realize the consequences for his actions.
 
Part of that was my fault---”

“Yes,
it was,” Brent agreed.

“But
he went too far this time.
 
I am not upholding
him in this.”

Brent
nodded.
 
He couldn’t agree more.
 
“Oh, and the DA says Miss Paige has agreed to
plead guilty for stealing those jewels and will get probation and community
service.”

“Why
am I not surprised?” Charles said.
 
“What
about Edna and Bea?”

“Not
so fortunate.
 
They will get six months
in jail, probation, and community service.
 
Which isn’t fair on any planet.
 
They found some of the jewels in Miss Paige’s house, yet she gets the
least amount of time.”

“She’s
wealthy.
 
Money talks around here.”

“Then
why don’t you throw some of that money around in defense of Miss Edna and Miss
Bea?”

“Are
you on drugs?” Charles asked his son.

Brent
laughed.
 
“I don’t think so.”

“Then
stop talking crazy.
 
They should have never
agreed to participate in the crime with Paige.
 
The fact that they did negates any sympathy I would have for either one
of them.
 
They’re getting what they
deserve.
 
I’m surprised they aren’t
getting more time. Bet that wouldn’t have been the outcome if Jenay was the
perp.”

“You’d
win that bet,” Brent agreed.

“What
bet?” Jenay asked as she entered the bedroom.

“Bea
gets to plead guilty,” Charles said, “in exchange for probation and community
service.”

“And
the others?”

“Six
months, then probation and community service.”

Jenay
nodded. “I’m not surprised,” she said.
 
“They should have never got involved.”

“So
you’re okay with Paige’s light sentence?” Charles asked.

“I’m
not okay with it, no.
 
But I’m not
surprised by it.
 
That’s what I’m
saying.”

“Anyway,
I’ve got to run,” Brent said.

“Want
to stay for lunch, Brent?” Jenay asked him.

“Thanks,
but I can’t.
 
I’m taking Kerstin to
lunch.”

“I
thought you guys broke up,” Charles said.
 
“At least that’s what Anthony told me.”

“Tony
talks too much,” Brent said.
 
“And I’m
almost late.
 
See you guys later,” he
said, and left.

Jenay
looked at Charles.
 
Charles continued
dressing.
 
“What was that about?
 
The fact that Paige won’t do any time?”

“And
that Donald will do a year.”

Jenay
hesitated.
 
She studied Charles.
 
“A year in prison?”

“Yes.”

“How
do you feel about that?”

“I
don’t feel great about it.
 
But it’s
needful.
 
He could have killed that girl,
Jenay.”

Jenay
nodded.
 
“I know.
 
It’s an awful thing all around.”

Charles’s
cell phone began to ring.
 
“If I get him
out of this jam,” he said, walking toward the nightstand, “then he’ll either
end up in an early grave, or put somebody else in one.
 
I can’t take that chance,” he added.
 

He
grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand, and answered it. “This is Sinatra,”
he said.

“She’s
doing it, sir.”
 

Charles
frowned.
 
“Who is this?”

“It’s
Reeva.
 
She’s doing it.
 
Abigail is doing it, sir.”

“Doing
what?”

Reeva’s
voice lowered. “Going to that place.”

Charles
still didn’t get it.
 
“What place?”

“That
place in Lenmark, on Amsterdam Road.
 
She’s going to do it, sir.”

Charles’s
heart fell through his shoe.
 
Even Jenay
saw the change in his countenance.
 
She
walked over to him.
 

Charles
was stunned.
 
“But she can’t, can
she?
 
Isn’t it too late?” he asked Reeva.

“No,
sir,” Reeva responded.
 
“They’ll do it up
to fourteen weeks.
 
Sometimes even later
than that.”

“Where
is she now?” he asked Reeva.
 
“Has she
left?