Flutter (3 page)

“Because I knew you wanted to beat me so I wasn’t going to let you in on my secret until I got here.” 

They both laughed. London took the herring off her line and replaced it with an eel. Her hands were getting cold but she was ready to get back to the task. They both walked back toward the beach and immediately stopped in their tracks.

Benjamin dropped his pole in the sand and said, “Call 911!”

London dropped her belongings and began to dial 911 in her phone. Her hands were shaking. Meanwhile, her uncle ran back to his truck and returned with a camera.

London stared at the water as she called, “Yes… I’m at Yellow’s Point in Portland. It’s a little cove across the street from Jerry’s Pizza Palace. You need to get here ASAP.”

Her uncle Benjamin snapped pictures.

“You have to get here quickly! A body just washed up on the shore.”

The 200
–
year
–
old basilica held approximately 300 guests attending Alan Jiang’s funeral. Cherry blossoms were sprinkled along the steps of the main entrance. Reporters from various television stations were on the perimeter and were roped off away from the family. The pipe organ could be heard blocks away. Many of Jiang’s colleagues and friends came to pay their respects. Without question, everyone respected him, and it was clear where the power would shift after this day. Alan’s parents were somber as they walked into the church. Jiang’s mother was a stout Chinese woman. She had straight, silver hair and rosy cheeks. His father was tall and strong looking for his age. His hair was gray. He wore glasses and peeked over them from time to time, whenever he was unsure of something he saw. Jiang’s father seemed unshaken as he helped his wife up the front stairs. 

The other Chinese people with Jiang’s parents must have been other family members and close family friends about whom Jiang never spoke. There were about 30 people in attendance. Jiang didn’t want people involved in his family life. He didn’t want them to be watched or be used as a means to influence Jiang’s decisions, so he lived as if he was estranged from his family. Secretly he loved them very much and created false business meetings to pay them an occasional visit. The parents and family stood outside of the front door awaiting the arrival of Alan’s wife.

Erin Moore pulled up in a limo. She exited the limo with Darren Hall, another executive from Chapel and Case. Moore was wearing a simple, all–black dress with four inch stilettos. A slim gold belt was tightened around her waist. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a sloppy bun. She wore a pair of small gold hoops, conservative makeup and a gold Tiffany necklace. Darren Hall had on a dark gray Armani Suit with a white handkerchief in the jacket pocket. He wore a pair of Armani eye glasses with a slight burgundy tint. He was rather flashy for corporate America and had been warned to keep his color choices to gray, blue and black. Many thought he might have homosexual tendencies, but Erin Moore had been sleeping with him for two years. There was even a pregnancy scare rumored about the office. When the former CFO heard about it, he and the board had a serious conversation with the couple. Nine months later, there was no baby in sight. Erin whispered something in Darren’s ear once he was out of the limo.

She reached over and helped him straighten out his tie. “You look stunning.”

“As do you.” Darren winked.

“Let him know we are here, and we will head back as soon as it is over.”

Hall nodded and pulled out his phone. He began to text someone and put the phone away by time they reached the stairs. He straightened his tie. On their way into the sanctuary, Erin and Darren acknowledged Jiang’s parents and expressed their condolences. She handed Alan’s father a card from Chapel and Case containing a check for $10,000. Erin Moore noticed a tear drop down the face of one of the Chinese women standing behind Alan’s parents. She reached in her purse and handed the woman a tissue, then nodded and walked in. Erin and Darren chose a row on the right side of the room next to a few corporate colleagues they knew from business dealings, both shady and legitimate. They shook a few hands before settling in and finally sitting down.

Another limo approached. It carried Alan’s wife, Katherine, and Katherine’s mother, father and her brother, Jake. 

“You ok, Katie?” Jake was very protective of his big sister. She nodded and looked to make sure no one heard him call her Katie. Jake hugged and kissed her on the forehead. Jake had just returned from Afghanistan three weeks earlier. He had been seeing a psychiatrist for post–traumatic stress disorder. Jake felt that he didn’t need to see a psychiatrist, but the service was free and mandatory as instructed by his superiors. He had intended to marry his girlfriend of five years when he returned to the States except she had gotten pregnant by another man while he was gone. Jake went into a rage when he received her letter in the mail the day before he was set to return home. His rampage put him on watch and thus the mandatory appointments with a psychiatrist were required. He insisted he didn’t need it.
What man wouldn’t go on a rampage over something like that?
But the army had insisted, just in case.

Katherine was trying to be strong because she knew many business colleagues were in attendance: CEO Joshua Gorman from Eckerson and Bland Investments, COO Mary Aboku from Interspire Inc., and Henry Lloyd from Blackstone Construction, who were responsible for just about all the new construction projects in the Northeast. Katherine wasn’t sure if crying would make her look weak or if not crying would make her look inhumane. She decided to hold her tears. Seeming inhumane was never a bad quality in the business world. Seeming weak was never a good idea. She was extremely sad and wondered how she would ever manage to keep her tears hidden, so she wore a black hat with a veil just in case she lost control of her emotions. She had on a sleek black dress with black leather shoes with silver studs on the heels. She wore a silver brooch on the lapel of her blazer. Her red hair blazed from underneath her black hat.

Katherine reached the top of the stairs where Alan’s parents stood. She gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and a soft hug. Mrs. Jiang was extremely fond of Katherine. Katherine loved to spoil her mother–in–law with expensive purses, shoes and perfume. She spoiled Mrs. Jiang even more than she did her own mother. Last Mother’s Day, Katherine took her mother and Mrs. Jiang to St. Martin where they stayed at the Sonesta Maho Casino and Resort. They had an all girls weekend on the beach; they explored the fancy boutiques and the cuisine on the French side of the island. Katherine’s mother wept softly and hugged Mr. and Mrs. Jiang. The funeral director came over to the family. She wanted them to process into the sanctuary.

“Are we ready to pay Alan his final respects?” 

No one said anything.

“Whenever you are ready we will be ready. Take your time,” she smiled and backed away.

Mr. Jiang gave the final nod before they walked in as a family. Suddenly, Katherine was grabbed by the family lawyer Joseph “Terri–bull” Terbull. He was also called THE BULL for short because of his cut throat tactics in the court room and in negotiations. Joseph was heavy set and dark skinned with even darker circles under his eyes. He had a scar from his right eyebrow down to his nose. Some said it was the result of a fight with a client who didn’t pay him. The truth was that he had been in a car accident the night after he passed the bar exam. He and a few buddies went out to drink. His friends, Mitch Loomis and Travis Carry, were also in the car. Mitch was driving on I90 heading back to Framingham. When he got back onto the city streets, he ran a stop light, swerved to miss another car and crashed into a mailbox. They were so afraid when they came to that Joseph followed his first instinct, hopped out of the car, moved Mitch, backed the car up and drove it to his house. He hid the car in his garage and his wife drove them all to the hospital. They told the cops they had been jumped when coming out of a bar and left it at that. 

“Dennis Matthew’s parents want to know what we plan to do to investigate further,” Mitch informed her at every step.

“No! Tell them not to investigate, and I will give them $500,000 to leave it be. This is not something they want to mess around with. Send them my condolences. I can’t imagine how they are feeling right now after losing a son. Send the money tomorrow and tell them that we know it will never replace Dennis in our hearts. He was a good kid whom Alan loved dearly, and our hearts go out to their family. Make them agree to leave it alone.”

“Got it. I will start with 250 and then sweeten the deal up for them up to half a million and let them know it’s best for them to let their son rest in peace and allow the police handle things from there.”

“The police are incompetent.”

“Agreed. Come on inside. Let’s worry about this later. You look amazing by the way.”

“Thank you, Joseph.”

Before Katherine turned around, she caught a quick glimpse of a woman that she knew Alan had been seeing on the side. Katherine’s expression tensed as she turned to walk into the building. Alan’s mistress was Jennifer Kalis Martin. Katherine had hired a private investigator to research the woman. The investigator had turned in an extensive report that was 30 pages thick and did not leave any stone unturned. Katherine was just as skeptical as her husband. She figured if he was going to open up to this woman, then he’d better not let his dick make silly decisions that would destroy the empire they planned to build together. Katherine wanted to know everything about this woman and even more importantly, she needed to be sure Alan didn’t have silly plans to leave her for this juvenile fluff.

Jen was a brown haired and short young woman in her last year of pharmacy school in Boston. She was from Poughkeepsie, New York, and was a biology major at Boston College. Jen had three sisters, no brothers and a cat named Harris. She lived in Hyde Park with her friend, Martha Howes. The investigator provided dental and medical summaries.
Good, no diseases.
She was a red belt and avid Tae Kwon Do enthusiast. She had a part–time job at Best Buy, but she quit a few months after meeting Alan. Jen was top of her class and had just completed an internship with Johnson and Johnson. Jen had met Alan at a pharmaceuticals conference entitled,
THE FUTURE OF PHARMING.
The title was rather tacky. Jen was interested in the finding her place in the field. Alan was interested in investing in the field. Jen bumped into him when trying to take a picture of a chemical model of a new cancer drug, Orpenzia.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

Alan smiled, “I saw you. I just didn’t know you would keep backing into me, so I apologize. I should’ve moved. Did you get the shot?”

“Well… not yet, but there’s no rush. The model is pretty static. I don’t see it taking a lunch break any time soon.”

They both giggled.

“I’m Jennifer,” she reached out her hand.

“Alan Jiang,” He shook her hand. “What brings you here?”

The rest was history. Eventually Alan asked her out to lunch, lunch turned into dinner and vacations and sex. Jen taught Alan a few tricks his wife would never tolerate. She was into role playing and kinky sex acts. Alan also enjoyed her company enough to stop seeing all other women and just focus on his wife and Jen. Jiang gave Jen an allowance of $1,500 a week. She had refused at first, but he had continued to shower her with gifts anyway, so she decided why not? Alan was upfront about having a wife and his feelings for her. Jen was upfront about continuing to see other men. Alan didn’t like it very much, but that was how this game was played. 

Jennifer grew to love Alan and he loved her, but she wasn’t a fool. Initially, she thought he would never leave his wife for her, and she concluded that he wasn’t really the type of man she saw herself settling down with. But over time, in the deeper part of her heart, she wished they could stop the running and hiding and just be together. Though it was too late to trust him, she had fallen in love with him but knew her place and never overstepped her boundaries with Alan or his wife. She knew Alan’s wife was aware of her, so it was a mutual understanding among the three.
We don’t see it and we don’t talk about it.

From across the street, Abigail watched the commotion of the funeral unfold. Abigail worked in
Frankie’s Pub
, an Irish pub with about 15 tables and eight booths on the right side. Centered on the left wall was a huge mahogany colored bar about 15 feet long with copper fittings on the corners. The wall behind the bar was stacked with various top shelf and house liquors. The door to the kitchen was just to the right side of the bar. The floor was constructed of thick maple hardwood, glossed over in a half inch polyurethane coating. In the center of the floor was a large green shamrock painted years earlier. The pub had pictures of Celtics, Bruins, Red Sox team players and memorabilia from just about all Massachusetts professional sports teams posted on the “Wall of Fame.” There were even pictures of the old Springfield YMCA, the birthplace of basketball. An 8 foot long black awning displayed “FRANKIE’S PUB” with a shamrock separating the two words.

Abigail stood about five feet, eight inches tall and had a slender build. She had thick, long, black hair, which hung down to the middle of her back below her shoulder blades. She had a tanned complexion. Her ethnicity was hard to determine, but Frankie, her boss, would have guessed she was part Asian as her eyes were slightly slanted. She had a beauty mark under her right eye. Over the same eye, her eyebrow had a slit in it from a past injury. Her brown eyes were dark and cold, especially when she wasn’t smiling or when she was deep in thought.

She watched the scene outside through the window as various limos and cars were driven to the front, unloading pretentious passengers who represented various types of executives, investors, coworkers, professors and family friends. Emotionless, her eyes glanced over to Alan’s widow and her parents congregating in front of the basilica’s main entrance. The dark clouds hovered low today. Abigail was cleaning glasses behind the bar while watching the important men and women entering and leaving the basilica. They were all sharply dressed in black and dark shades of blue and gray. She thought they looked like corrupt government officials sneaking into a covert Illuminati meeting.