Jennifer
Brayton, only thirty, housed more ghosts in her head than an Irish castle. Her
father and mother were there, along with an assortment of faces she had learned to know in and out of foster home.
Two
days later she stood over his body, now cold and dressed for company. The funeral
home was too much like a scene out of the past. The heavy fragrance of flowers
wrapped around her pounding headache and the whispering funeral guests gathered in small groups, holding cocktails in their
hands. The wake was beginning, and all Jennifer wanted to do was to escape.
She
slowly walked up to the casket; her hands clenched tight, her knees weak as rubber.
A few people stared her direction. Her headache increased and the funeral
home felt suddenly colder. She stood looking at the body, not believing that
he was really gone. She had only been there for a couple of minutes when she
felt someone at her side. An arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she stiffened
when she saw Jim Cronin there. Six feet tall, with thick silver hair, gray eyes. Judge Cronin was remarkably
well dressed as usual.
He
spoke softly, “Sorry for your loss, it is tragic isn’t it?”
Jennifer’s
throat tightened. All that came out was a very meek, “Thank you.”
“Is
there anything I can do for you?”
“No,
“she replied, wishing he would leave her alone with her grief.
“He
was a good man.” Cronin continued.
“He
looks like my father, you know.”
Silence. She turned to see him walk into the crowd. Nothing
different she thought in disgust. My fathers legal partner and he simply walks
away. Just like he did at dad’s and mom’s funeral. Funny, she smiled, taking a drink from the waiter’s tray. He
didn’t walk away from mom’s casket. Didn’t Cronin stand there
and cry?
West
Boylston’s most well knowned attorney. One more ghost, could now be added
to that assembly. Edward Fletcher, and her boss, brought the tally too close
for comfort.
She
turned back to her bosses casket, glass in hand and closed her eyes not wanting to see the remembrance of her father.
It
had been a late Sunday night when the police knocked on the door with the startling news.
Her parents would never come home again. The brakes had failed on the
way to Jim Cronin’s house. Some important meeting. She remembered her dad and mom stopped before opening the back door to leave. Her father paced nervously around the kitchen. “Are
you sure your old enough to be responsible?”
“Dad,
come on.”
Red
headed with a temper to match, petite Katie Brayton chuckled at her husband, amused at his reaction.
“She’s
Fifteen, John, and old enough to take care of a fourteen year old!”
“Thanks
mom, now get!”
“Lock
the doors, young lady, and no friends over while we’re gone!”
“Okay
Dad!” “Mom you’d better wear your new necklace!”
Diane,
one year younger and ten dollars richer, contributed most of the money for the chain, while Jennifer paid for the tiny cross. If only she could hold that cross again. If
only she could see her mother again. But then, she did see her, every time she
looked in the mirror. Jennifer Brayton was Katie’s carbon copy, a green
eyed charmer with a figure to match.
“Would
a cup of coffee help?” Cronin chimed her back into the present.
Slow
to answer, Jennifer mustered an affirmative nod.
“Great!
My car is parked out front. The diner down the street is still open.”
Uneasy
about the offer, she quickly added, “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather walk.”
He
smiled wryly, “I’m not into walking, Jennifer.”
“Then
I’ll walk alone.” Jennifer glared into his steel gray eyes, then
glance at her watch eager to leave. He reached for her arm and she pulled away.
“I
don’t need an escort judge, the coffee is enough.”
“You
seem a bit on edge about something.”
Too
much of the past, she thought. Cronin brought back memories that just wouldn’t
quit. Her father distrusted him as a business partner, but there was more. She could feel the heat of his stare. Wasn’t it the same way he used to look at his mother?
Just
a few good-byes and a quick trip to the funeral homes front door, led her into the freedom of the cool fall night.
Unfortunately
Cronin was two steps behind. “Wait up Jennifer, you walk as fast as your
mother did!”
The
night air was bitterly cold, so she snuggled into the warmth of her coat. Cronin finally caught up.
“Will
you please slow down, young lady!”
“I
would like to get in out of the cold, if you don’t mind. It’s just ten steps ahead.”
The
café’ was warm and empty. They found a seat near the window.
Smacking
gum, the café’s oldest waitress, Laverne, pulled her order book from her apron pocket.
She gave Cronin an awkward grin.
“This
another daughter, judge?”
Cronin
moved sheepishly in his seat.
“Just
a lady friend.”
Jennifer
glared at him from across the table. “How dare you call me a lady friend,
I am not your friend, maybe no even an acquaintance.” The hot tears started
to roll down her already flushed face. “Let’s just order and get
this over with.”
Laverne
took their orders hesitantly, speechless at the scene. Cronin ordered his usual,
black coffee with no sugar. Jennifer ordered a cup of hot tea to soothe her nerves. Laverne scuffed quickly out of sight. “You
are awful testy Jennifer. Would you like to talk about it?” Cronin looked around as if he were in an “I Spy” movie.
“What
intentions did you have towards my mother? You were at our house a lot when my
father wasn’t home.”
Cronin’s
face reddened, the veins in his neck protruding. He cleared this throat, and
looked through her with his icy gray eyes. “Your mother meant a great deal
to me, I knew her a long time before I ever knew your dad. Your dad came into
the picture, and I was left out.”
Jennifer
stared at him trying not to interrupt, while Laverne delivered the drinks and quickly moved away from the conversation.
Cronin
reached for his coffee and took a swig, waiting for Jennifer’s response.
Since
she made no moved to comment, Cronin continued.
“You
are now an adult Jennifer, and it is time you knew. Your mother and I were having an affair.”
The
muscles in her face tightened, and all she could say was, “And my faher was in the way, wasn’t he?”
“I
think you know too much for my comfort, Jennifer.”
“You
know, my parents car was only a few weeks old, and there was no reason why the brakes should have failed. Even the police said so.”
“Even
new cars have mechanical failure, Jennifer. And you know yourself, it is a long
drive to my house.”
“You
didn’t expect my mother to attend your meeting with my father, did you Mr. Cronin?”
“I
never expected your dad was stupid enough to bring your mother. I told him to
come alone.”
“My
dad is far from stupid, in fact, Mr. Cronin, I think he had a lot more on the ball than you ever had.”
“He
wasn’t to brilliant when he brought your mother to the meeting, now was he?”
“You
really must have loved my mother, you just couldn’t keep away from her, even after she was dead.” Jennifer sipped her tea and continued. “Not only was
my dad brilliant, but he also left a pretty curious daughter behind. I learned
a lot as Mr. Fletcher’s legal secretary. In fact I have done quite a bit of research on the accident. Did you know, Mr. Cronin, that when my mom and dad left the house that night, he had his briefcase and
mom was wearing her gold cross necklace. The police records did not show anything
about a necklace or a briefcase found at the scene. Someone had to have taken
them. Would you know anything about that, Mr. Croniin?”
Mr.
Cronin slowly sipped his coffee. “Jennifer, my dear a little knowledge
is a very dangerous thing.
She
stared at him unrelentingly, her anger rising to a steep crescendo. “Like
my father, Mr. Cronin, I have never been afraid of anyone. This case isn’t
over yet.” Jennifer pushed her tea aside, gathered her keys and rushed
out the door.
Slowly
Cronin reached inside his coat pocket, and carefully laid the gold cross necklace beside his still steaming coffee.
“Oh
yes it is my dear, oh yes it is!”
