Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Jack
I should be done with my meetings by noon. I’ll call you as soon as I’m on my way home. Love you, Red.
Me
I saw the note you left on the pillow. Thanks for letting me sleep in. I can’t believe I get an entire day off from therapies! I might see if Cami wants to do some yoga or Allie and I talked about going to visit Cara at her bakery.
Jack
Sounds good, baby. If you leave the building, let Thor know. Also, does Allie think they’re hiding the fact they are dating? They’re terrible at it if they think they’re being stealthy.
Me
lol, I’m going to tell her you figured it out! She was convinced they were being sneaky. They’re cute. I think Thor’s a good guy, and he calls her elskan mín, which means my darling. Swoon!
Jack
I’ve heard him call her that, but you don’t need to be swooning that much over your bodyguard, Red.
Me
No one could ever make me swoon like you do, Jack. Not even close.
Jack
Good. Keep it that way. You’re mine.
Me
And you’re mine. Xoxo
Me
Have a good meeting. I’m hopping in the shower so I’ll talk to you after!
Jack
…Thanks for that image as I’m walking to a boring meeting.
Me
lol
Jack
Love you, baby.
Me
Love you too, Jack.
I take as deep of a breath as I’m able to these days and sigh like a schmuck in love.
But I am. I’m completely besotted with the man—even if I’m not in love with how I can’t take a full deep breath, but the physical therapists tell me it takes time.
Technically, the doctors said it’s typical to expect anywhere from four to eight weeks for rib injuries like mine to heal, but the fact that I had them previously injured, and somewhat recently, can make that timeframe a little longer or my healing a little more complicated.
Fucking Rick.
He’s like the asshole that keeps shitting on my life—even though he has fallen off the map.
The local authorities in Chattanooga have so far been unable to locate him, which is odd because he doesn’t have that many places to be, unless he left the state of Tennessee, which at this point, I wouldn’t put anything past the man.
His sudden disappearance and the timing with my mother’s death is more than suspicious, and the more time that goes by, the more questions the authorities seem to have.
One detective, who was clearly trying to prove he was important, got aggressive on a phone call with me, and Jack nipped that in the bud real quick, demanding that all communication now go through my attorneys.
We were trying to help them, but that detective was being an asshole just because he thought he could, or maybe because he made assumptions about me because of my career.
People think that because I’m a celebrity, I have a certain opinion of myself or think I’m somehow special or better than others, and while there are definitely celebrities that deserve that assumption, that couldn’t be further from the core of who I am.
“It’s pretty convenient that after it’s been proven in the public forum that your stepfather and mother were complicit in years of abuse that both of them are just—poof—gone.”
I look to Jack with my eyebrows scrunched together.
“I’m not sure what you’re implying, Detective.
I had nothing to do with my mother’s death.
She was my mother, sir. And I have no idea where Rick Wilson is, and if I did, I would tell you.
I would never protect him in any capacity, let alone hide him from the authorities. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“It’s easy to claim that now, Miss Sinclair.” He huffs into the phone. “But maybe you didn’t want to wait for the wheels of justice to spin or maybe they weren’t spinning fast enough for your taste.”
“Meaning, what?”
“Meaning, maybe you took things into your own hands and decided to deliver your own justice because you think you’re above the law.” Jack snatches the phone up at that and ends the call with such force, I was worried the screen might crack.
In addition to any law enforcement that wants to speak to me about my mother needing to go through my attorneys, I also received a written formal apology from that detective and his commanding officer for his behavior and conduct.
What a douche canoe.
I hadn’t heard of calling someone that name before, but Savannah used it the other day and it made me laugh so hard I got the hiccups.
Jack’s sisters have been so loving and attentive since I’ve been in Forrest Falls, with Fiona’s and now my mother’s deaths.
Savannah, Vivian, and Cami all seem to understand that while both were unexpected and sudden, the two deaths are not at all the same, nor is my grieving process.
For sisters that didn’t grow up together, the three are all very loving and maternal, something that made Cami tear up with a wistful smile when I pointed out the similarities after one of our yoga sessions together.
Sometimes, I say things without thinking, but Cami assures me that I have nothing on her friend Cara, who has also proven to be a newfound treasure in all of this—in addition, the woman owns a freaking bakery with delicious treats.
No one will replace Fiona and the extraordinary, remarkable friendship and bond we shared.
I will miss her every single day for the rest of my life.
But the other night, as I lay in Jack’s arms under the stars, snuggled together on a couch on the rooftop, I couldn’t help but wonder if she somehow had a hand in all of this.
Maybe Fiona called in some favors and somehow sent these new friendships to me to ease the heartache of her absence—of course she would assume it would take four incredible women to even try to fill the void she left behind. She was fabulous and she knew it.
Wells came back stateside the day after our mother’s body was discovered.
The medical examiner performed the autopsy and we were informed that they weren’t able to give us an exact time of death.
However, it was approximately sometime between eight p.m. and midnight the evening prior to the discovery of her body based on her body’s temperature and the stage of rigor mortis her body was in when the authorities discovered her.
When they called to inform Wells, I was with him and had to rush to the bathroom, throwing up at the thought of our mother’s body going through that process in the middle of her living room.
I’ve watched crime shows and listened to crime podcasts like most American women my age, but imagining my mother’s body made the concept feel far too intimate and flipped my stomach at the thought.
But like all things that involve our mother, nothing is ever black and white.
The autopsy unsurprisingly revealed substantial liver damage, including signs of cirrhosis, and other alcohol related damage that Bridget has done to her body over the years.
According to the medical examiner’s office, we should get the full toxicology report in the next few days, but there was an unexpected discovery during her autopsy.
Initially, the responding officers and detectives on the scene implied that it looked like an unremarkable scene, leading them to assume her death was likely from natural causes, but as it was an unattended death, an autopsy was required, and Wells had also insisted on one.
While I initially was hesitant at the idea of them doing that to our mother’s body, I was glad I didn’t get a vote in the end.
During the examination, the medical examiner discovered something abnormal.
On the back of our mother’s neck was a small, but noticeable and suspicious bruise that raised more questions, along with some red flags.
The medical examiner’s report said the bruise occurred prior to her death and was actually an injection site.
Why the hell would my mother have an injection site on the back of her neck of all places?
I can’t even imagine a plausible answer, but that hasn’t stopped my imagination.
I don’t think Bridget did drugs, but what did I really know of my mother, other than she was married to an asshole and loved her booze more than her children?
I know that if she were pushed into a corner, she could turn vicious and mean, which also made her unpredictable, so really, anything was possible when it came to her.
Except, apparently, her getting sober and putting in even minimal effort to have relationships with her children during her lifetime.
I shake my head as I step out of the shower, happy to be able to move a little easier without such intentional focus on babying my right side.
Without having appointments today, I also get to let my hair air dry, which is a treat for both me and my curls.
They just don’t look the same when they are diffused, but people that don’t have curly hair don’t understand.
I apply a minimal amount of makeup before slipping on some yoga pants and one of Jack’s T-shirts.
I love stealing his T-shirts and I think he loves seeing me in his clothes.
What a caveman.
I love it.
I smile, walking into the kitchen to make some much needed coffee. Glancing at my vibrating cell on the counter, I see Daphne Cromwell’s name on the screen. It’s not usually a great sign when your attorney calls you at nine in the morning.
“Good morning, Daphne, how are you today?” I greet her as I put the call on speaker so I can move around and make my iced brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso.
I don’t avoid dairy; I just love this drink ever since Cami introduced me to it.
She taught me how to make it here in Jack’s kitchen, but she still makes it better.
Alas, she’s at work, so I have to make it myself …
at least until I can get Thor to walk with me to Java Jive later.