BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1) (22 page)

BOOK: BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1)
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She surprised
him with her question. He figured she couldn’t wait to shoot off her list of
questions, and his respect for her rose another notch.

“Yeah, I’m okay.
But don’t forget I want to see the questions first.”

Marlene laughed
and patted his arm. “I knew
you
wouldn’t forget. And by all means read
them and give me your input. Now I need to ask the question I asked Shannon
Gallagher. Is the topic of you two off limits?”

Cole chuckled
and his eyes gleamed. “Yeah, it’s off limits.”

Marlene laughed
again. “I figured as much.”

They were now
in the studio. Cole saw no audience, just three camera operators and two chairs
with a small table between them. On the table rested a pitcher of water and two
glasses. Marlene gestured toward the sitting area. “Is this satisfactory?”

“It’s fine.”

“Then should we
begin?”

“Yes.” Cole
waited for Marlene to indicate which chair was his before he sat down. He
removed his hat, but kept his jacket on. A young woman came up to them, she
fussed with Marlene’s hair and makeup, then turned to him, holding some face
powder.

“Do you mind?”

“No.”

She powdered
his face, smoothed back his hair, then she left them without another word. Cole
liked people who respected other people’s privacy. He turned his attention back
to Marlene and held out his hand, palm up. “List.”

“You don’t
forget a thing do you?” Marlene said, her voice laced with humor as she placed
a note pad in his large hand.

“Not usually,”
Cole replied as he scanned the questions. Not one pertained to Lindsey’s death
just like they’d agreed. He handed the pad back. “It’s fine.”

“Good. Are you
ready?”

His stomach
took a dive. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Marlene
signaled her producer and the camera’s began rolling. As the interview
progressed, Cole relaxed more and more and as she said, it was an informal
conversation, more like two friends talking versus interviewer and interviewee.

And by the time
the interview ended, Cole felt as though an encumbered burden had lifted off
his chest and he was breathing easier. He had no idea what the public would
think of anything he said, but he was beginning to think he didn’t care one way
or another. And he wouldn’t have long to wait as Marlene planned to air the
interview tomorrow morning in her usual time slot.

Cole walked
back to his hotel and went directly to his room to mentally prepare for the
night’s concert. The band’s business manager, who’d been with the band from the
beginning, sounded none too happy about postponing two concert dates in
Detroit, but Cole knew he’d get over it. And hopefully so would their fans. He
had a flight out tomorrow at one in the afternoon. An earlier flight would have
been better, but there wasn’t anything available. Now, with the later flight,
he could spend time with AJ. His behavior at the concert last night was
frightening, to say the least, and he figured tonight to be no less.

He’d been right.
That night’s concert, AJ cloned his previous night’s behavior and Cole became
even more worried. He tossed and turned most of the night, flashing from
Shannon, to Cameron, to AJ. It was a long depressing night to say the least.

***

AJ sat on the
bed in his hotel room looking un-kept and exhausted. If one looked closely into
his eyes, they would see eyes glazed and void of life. They would see no
emotion whatsoever. He may look like a man void of any emotion, but his brain
was quite active, thinking about money, fame, his terrific family, wonderful
friends and one best friend—Cole.

And there lay the
problem. Now that AJ finally opened his mind to the truth about Lindsey’s
death, he couldn’t look Cole in the eye. He couldn’t continue to work with him
and he most definitely couldn’t continue to let him take the blame for
something he did. Cole had already paid dearly, and he deserved more out of
life. He also deserved to know the truth about that night.

Earlier in the
day, he’d purchased a small camera and tripod. He focused it on the bed and hit
record.

“‘T’is AJ
Macleod and ah have something tae say. An injustice has been done tae Cole
Jackson, and ah have tae right the wrong.” He closed his eyes briefly then
cleared his throat. “Ah’m sorry Cole. Ah’m so sorry.” He paused to wipe his
eyes. “Ah dinnae ken what happened or why it happened. Ah only ken ah did it. Ah
killed Lindsey. Ah blocked it out for years, convincing myself someone else
committed the murder because ah could never have done that tae her. But the
truth is, ah did do that tae her and not only did ah take her life, ah took
yours away as well. You will never ken how sorry ah am.

“Ah dinnae
expect ye to forgive me and ah’m not asking for it, but would ye please look
after Elizabeth and my children. They should not be blamed for my sins. This
has nothing tae do with them.” He didn’t bother wiping the tears away anymore. He
let them flow freely. “All ah can say is ah’m sorry. Ah wish ye well, and ah
hope ye find your happiness and all your heart’s desire with Shannon. Love is
precious and it’s a strong precious love that binds ye two together. Don’t
waste a single day of it.

“Tae my
beautiful wife, ah’m sorry for what all this will do tae ye and our children. Ah
love all of ye with my entire heart, and that’s why what ah’m about tae do is
hurting me so. But it must be done.”

AJ struggled to
open the bottle of sleeping pills. When he did, he said a silent prayer and
swallowed the entire contents. He was not taking any chances. He did not want
to wake up, ever.

As he began
feeling sleepy, he curled up on the bed in a fetal position and his last thought
before his world ended centered on how he forgot to stop the camera from
recording.

Chapter
Seventeen

Cole snapped
awake the next morning to pounding on the door and a woman’s voice with a
strong Brazilian accent calling out, “Mr. Jackson, Mr. Jackson, please open the
door.”

Having no idea
what the fuss was about, he quickly pulled on his jeans and T-shirt from
yesterday, combed his hands through his hair and opened the door to a frantic
looking young maid. She grabbed his arm with surprising strength and pulled him
forward. “Please come quick. Mr. Macleod. Something is wrong, he no wake up.”

In that instant
Cole realized the popular saying, “my heart stopped” was not just an expression
after all. Pulling away from the maid he ran like hell down the hall to AJ’s
room. The door stood ajar and several hotel security guards graced the inside. Cole
crossed the threshold, his hand on his pounding heart as he scanned the room,
his eyes coming to rest on the figure on the bed. Oh God. He didn’t have to get
closer to know AJ was dead. Cole could smell death. The strong pungent smell of
body fluids and waste hung in the air. He swallowed the bile trying to force
its way up his throat while he stood there mesmerized by AJ’s dead body. Death
was not a pretty sight, nor was there any pride.

Cole suddenly
felt old, tired and numb. AJ—his best friend—dead. It didn’t seem possible. How?
Why?

“Excuse me,
everybody out,” bellowed a plain clothes detective as he came into the room
with two uniform officers and a man carrying a medical examiners bag.

Cole left the
room on legs so unsteady they could have belonged to a ten-month-old baby
wobbling along, taking his first steps. When he reached the hallway, he
collapsed to the ground and sat stunned as silent tears streamed down his face.
He waited and waited as people in law enforcement came and went. He stared at a
dark spot on the wall for what seemed like eternity. After a time the detective
he saw earlier approached him.

“Mr. Jackson?”

Cole climbed to
his feet but leaned heavily against the wall for support. He didn’t trust his
legs just yet.

“Yes.”

“Mr. Jackson,
I’m Detective Silver. I’m sorry, but Mr. Macleod is dead,” the detective said
flatly.

“I know.”

“Would you mind
notifying his family? I think it would be better coming from someone close to
them.”

Jesus, Cole
closed his eyes and hoped to God when he opened them he would be lying in bed,
and this would all be a dream. There was
no way
AJ was dead. But when he
slowly opened his eyes nothing had changed. The harsh looking detective still
stood there waiting for an answer to his question, and AJ was still dead. Cole
cleared his throat, coughed and finally answered the detective. “Yes. How... how
did he die?”

“It’s too soon
to tell. Once an autopsy’s done we’ll know for certain. But it appears to be a
suicide by sleeping pills.”

Oh God, his
knees buckled and he crumpled back to the ground. He was unable to breathe as
claws gripped his lungs and his heart pounded toward fatal speed. Burying his
face in his hands, he fought the sobs bubbling up and fighting their way out.

“Was… was there
a note?” He forced the words out, and after he said them he thought what a
stupid question. But then again, most suicide victims left notes.

“No. However he
recorded a video.”

Cole’s head
snapped up. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, that’s
what I thought. I just watched it. And there’s something you should know. It
pertains directly to you.”

Cole managed to
grope the wall with his hands as he stood up, locking his knees in hopes they
wouldn’t give way again. “How so,” he asked, trying not to picture AJ
swallowing pills and lying dead in bed in his own body waste not thirty feet
from him. Guilt pounded him like a runaway freight train. He knew something was
bothering AJ and he had tried to talk to him, but shit, obviously not hard
enough.

“I shouldn’t
tell you this, but before there’s media frenzy, which I’m certain there will
be, I think you should know it was a confession and an apology.”

Cole took a
steady breath, not knowing if he wanted to hear this. “I don’t understand.”

The detective
looked right at him, sympathy radiating from the same eyes that appeared hard
earlier. “Macleod confessed to killing your wife.”

Cole closed his
eyes and leaned even harder against the wall. His whole body convulsed and his
heart pounded so loudly it caused severe pain inside his head. He was convinced
if he moved even an inch his head would explode. What nightmare had he woken up
in? This couldn’t be right? Couldn’t be real?

“AJ loved
Lindsey. I don’t understand,” he choked out, feeling confused and sad and hurt.
If it’s true, his best friend killed his wife and let him take the blame. Let
him go to jail. He didn’t want it to be true, and he wouldn’t believe it until
he saw AJ’s confession himself. And even then, he didn’t know if he’d believe
it. Not in AJ’s nature.

 “Can I see the
video?”

“Yes. You’ll
have to come down to the station house. I’m almost done here. I’ll drive you.”

“Th...Thanks,”
Cole mumbled.

Several minutes
later the detective came out of AJ’s room with a small blue camera in a plastic
bad. Cole followed him in a mind numbing haze.

“Mr. Jackson,
why don’t we stop by your room so you can get your shoes?”

Cole glanced
down at his bare feet. Christ, he would have walked out of the hotel barefoot
and being as numb as he was, he never would have noticed.

The ride to the
station house took less than ten minutes. It was the longest ten minutes of
Cole’s life. He stared, unseeing out the car window, everything blurring
together as if a painter regretted his painting or possibly hated it and took
his brush, swirling it across the canvas, washing all the colors and images
together. Nothing was in focus. Cole couldn’t concentrate, or was it his brain
protecting him from the devastating reality around him?

When they
arrived at the station, he stumbled out of the car and blindly followed
Detective Silver into the station house to a small room with a laptop, a gray
metal table and two metal chairs, totally unaware of the stares and hushed talk
going on around him.

The Detective
plugged in the camera, turned the computer screen toward him and left the room
to give him privacy. Cole watched as AJ’s face appeared larger than life on the
screen. His breathing became choppier and choppier as he fought not to sob, but
in the end, it was no use. He buried his head in his hands, and as his whole
body shook, he cried out in anguish. “Damn you, AJ. I would have forgiven you. You
didn’t have to take your life. I loved you man.” Then the rage boiled up and
exploded. Cole began throwing and pounding everything in sight until Detective
Silver came back in with several officers to restrain him. Cole could do
nothing, think about nothing as numbness took over and he buried his head once
again in his hands.

***

“Shannon,” Mitch
yelled up the stairs, “come quick. Cole’s on the Marlene Simpson Show.”

“What,” she
yelled as she descended the stairs in a hurry, her feet barely touching the
steps as her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. “Did I hear you right?”

She slid onto
the couch, eyes glued to the television. Sure enough it was Cole. Her heart
jumped at the sight of him. He was so gorgeous her breath escaped her lungs in
one quick swoop.
How could she
have forgotten the effect he had on
her
? She clasped her shaky hands together and lost herself in the show, her
attention never wavering until a commercial. Then she looked at Mitch, pride as
well as tears in her eyes.

“I can’t
believe he gave an interview. He never said anything when I spoke with him.” She
sucked in air as the commercial ended and Cole’s face took over the screen
again. She had heard most of what he and Marlene discussed before from Cole,
yet she was still moved greatly by what he’d gone through. And horrified about
how cruelly some people treated him. And she couldn’t believe he broke his
silence about Lindsey’s death. Incredible as it seemed, he was the one to bring
it up.

By the time the
interview ended, she could barely breathe her emotions were running so high,
never mind her feelings of love for him. She kept reminding herself that he
would be here today. Tonight they could hold each other and make love and
finally look to the future together.

Just as Mitch
was about to hit the off button, a live broadcast from a local Boston station broke
in. Shannon and Mitch sat stunned as they listened to the reporter tell the
news of AJ Macleod’s death by suicide. The woman reporter read from AJ’s quote
as the words appeared on the screen. Everything AJ said in his suicide video
was broadcast for the whole world to hear and read.

Shannon sat
motionlessly, shocked by it. Mitch sat beside her and pulled her into his arms
for comfort and silent support.

Oh my God! What
was Cole going through? Where was he? The reporter said Cole knew about AJ’s
death, and he’d been allowed to watch the video. He also had been in AJ’s hotel
room and identified the body. Shannon clutched her heart as pain pierced
through it. Cole must be brokenhearted to find out it was his best friend who
had murdered his wife. Would life ever stop throwing curves in the path of his
happiness? Yes, the world would finally know he was innocent, but still the
cost to him was high.

Shannon knew he
would still take the blame on himself for Lindsey’s death anyway. And he would
definitely feel responsible for AJ’s death as well. A thought suddenly occurred
to her. Was he still on his way? She doubted it. He now had AJ’s death to deal
with, and Cole would make all the necessary arrangements. He would not leave
his best friend and bandmate in death regardless of the horrendous
circumstances, regardless of the betrayal, the deceit and the open lies. Even
with the years stolen from him, he would honor his friend in death.

She breathed
deeply and sighed loudly as she wiped away her tears with her trembling fingers.
She loved Cole so much, and she admired him for his loyalty and compassion and
love. If the circumstances were reversed, could she be as caring as Cole?

“Mitch, would
you please find me the phone? I need to call him.” Her voice sounded hollow,
distant and strange, as though coming from inside a deep, dark cave echoing off
rock walls trying to find the opening to freedom, to sunlight and life.

Shannon hugged
herself and rocked back and forth. There was so much pain in her life right now
and she was hurting badly, hurting for herself, for Cole and for AJ’s family
back in Scotland, but most of all she hurt for her missing son. She needed her
son. She needed to see him, touch him and reassure herself that he still lived.

Mitch handed
her the phone, and the concern and love pouring from his eyes helped steady her
and allow her to make the call. She really didn’t want to reach out to Cole on
the phone. It was too impersonal, too sterile. She wanted to reach out in
person so she could physically comfort him by wrapping her body around his and
offering solace. But she’d call him and do what she could with the distance of
miles between them—miles upon cold, lonely and needy miles.

She received
his voice mail. Damn. “Cole, I just heard. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.
I love you. Call me.”

Less than five
minutes went by before the phone rang, and she jumped as she still held the
receiver cradled in her hand. She read the caller ID and her heart stopped. It
was Cole.

“Hi.” She held
her breath, waiting for his voice.

“Hey,” he said,
sounding tired and numb.

“Are you okay?”

The sound of
him exhaling came through the phone. “Not really, things are bad. As bad as
they can get.”As he spoke, his voice lowered. “I can’t get the image of
Lindsey’s lifeless body out of my mind or the image of AJ lying dead in the
hotel bed. It was awful.” He cleared his throat. “I can’t get the smell out of
my nose. It’s the second time I’ve witnessed death, smelled death. And it’s two
times too many.”

He paused and
she heard him sob. “Oh, Shannon, I can’t believe what’s happening. It seems
surreal. I keep expecting to wake up and I’ll be twenty-three again, before
Lindsey’s death, before any of the other nightmarish stuff happened.”

She didn’t know
what to say and her heart ached for him. Her whole body burned in pain for him.
“Oh, Cole,” she whispered.

“I called
Elizabeth, AJ’s wife and broke the news. Without a doubt it was the most
difficult thing I’ve ever done. She’s devastated. I don’t know what she’ll tell
their children. Christ, they’re so young, only five, eight and ten. How will
this affect their lives?” he groaned out in despair. “The only good thing is
they are isolated in the Highlands, but I’m quite sure the media will still
find them and make a mockery of this.”

“You watched
the video?” It wasn’t necessarily a question. She already knew the answer but
felt compelled to ask.

“Yeah, it was
awful. AJ looked and sounded terrible, not like him at all. Of course it’s no
wonder, he was confessing to murdering Lindsey and planning his own demise. Shit,
he filmed his own death.” He paused and she heard him fighting for control, for
air. “I watched him die. Right there in front of my eyes, and I knew the second
it happened. There are no words to describe watching death happen. And I tried
not to watch, hell I tried, I really tried, but I couldn’t help it. And even
though I know it to be true, I’m having a hard time dealing with it, accepting
it, understanding it.
No one
had their head screwed on straighter and
tighter than AJ.”

She heard what
sounded like someone smacking their forehead. “I’m not sure I’m capable of
dealing with it now. Nor am I feeling much of anything but shock. I feel like
my life is not my own. I’m watching it happen from the sidelines, and I have no
control over anything.”

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