Chapter 37

Jake looked at the phone as if it were a dead rat. Vivian Thornton was not on his list of have-to-see people, but he did not want to hang up on her. Jake asked her what the problem was. She told him she needed to talk to him urgently and could not speak about it over the phone. She sounded so desperate and panic stricken Jake agreed to meet her at the beach in an hour. Jake ate supper and told the folks he was going for a ride and would be back before eight. His dad smiled indulgently, Charles knew how exciting it was to have your first automobile. Although he thought the gift extravagant beyond words, he had finally agreed to it when Sara explained her reasoning. Charles’ smile would have faded quickly had he known who Jake was driving to meet.

Jake pulled up to the parking area above the 26^th Street beach approach. He killed the engine then checked the big .38 Colt Cobra he had purchased from Tiny. He would not rule out anything where Vivian was concerned. Jake opened the door then quietly slipped out of the car. He had stopped at the Seven-Eleven on the way and removed the bulb from his dome light as a further precaution. Jake eased the car door closed and disappeared quickly into the picnic area where tables were chained to the posts of the pavilion. He peeked over the sea wall and spotted a solitary car sitting by the lifeguard station. A small, possibly familiar figure was perched on the hood, head swiveling in every direction at every sound. Jake moved the revolver to his back waistband, covered it with his jacket, slipped over the seawall, and walked slowly toward the car with his hands open and slightly out to the side.

Vivian caught his movement from the corner of her eye and turned towards him. He immediately saw the glint off the small handgun she held. He stopped dead in his tracks, reasonably sure he was out of range for an accurate shot.

“It’s Jake,” he called to her. “Put the gun on the hood and step back a few feet.”

She looked at her hand and hastily complied. Jake kept his hands in view and started walking towards her again. As he got closer, he began to wonder if he was meeting the right person. The woman in front of the Chrysler sedan did not look like Vivian. For one thing, she did not have long blonde hair, instead she wore her black hair in a pageboy. For another, she wore glasses and Vivian did not. Finally, this woman wore a nondescript ill-fitting ordinary print dress, something Vivian would not be caught dead in. Jake grabbed the little nickel-plated popgun and pocketed it. When Jake was standing in front of her, the woman spoke.

“Hello, Jake, long time, no see.”

Jesus, it was her. The disguise was brilliant. “Hi, Viv. I like your new look.”

She favored him with a small smile. “Thanks,” she said sarcastically, “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

Jake said, “Sure, but you will have to ride with me. She agreed and they walked toward the picnic area. Jake took a careful look around before leading her to his car. He drove her to Liz’s bungalow and showed her in. While she made herself comfortable, he poured her a snifter of brandy. As Jake sat next to her on the couch, she commented that she remembered being there with him before. Jake brushed off her attempt at distraction and brought her back on topic, asking her why she had pulled the disappearing act and why did she think he could or would help her.

Vivian took off her glasses and studied him for a moment.

“Jake, I’m going to level with you and tell you much more about me. I grew up poor. My mother raised me after my father left when I was a baby. My mother groomed me to marry rich from the age of ten. I was clever, pretty and knew what I had to offer, so getting men was never a problem. I married a wealthy man when I was nineteen. Contrary to what he said later, he did abuse me. The experience was bad enough that I swore off men for years. I went to work for Russell in 1967. His wife died unexpectedly of natural causes a year later. That did open the door for us. We were married in ‘69. Our marriage might have seemed strange to some, in truth, it was partly business. I was his beautiful young trophy wife, he was my sugar daddy. But it worked, I finally had the life my mother and I had dreamed about, I only wish mom had lived so she could have shared my good fortune.

“Russell was a vigorous man, active and vital, but he had a few sexual hang ups. Primarily, he was a voyeur. It aroused him to see me with another man. My peccadilloes were initially at his instigation. I was hesitant at first but, after the first two episodes, I began to get off on it also. Russell loved watching me seduce someone. As soon as we were alone after my ‘date’, he was insatiable. This activity reached a high intensity when Chip was to be my next target. That liaison drove Russell to sustained priapism. Then when Chip got too possessive, Russell was going to have a serious talk to him and send him to Europe with a pocket full of money until he regained some perspective. You were the next target on our list, by the way.

“Anyway, my point is that I did not want Russell dead. I had everything I ever wanted: a strong man who indulged me, plus lots of money. Randal knew what I was, we had also been intimate - at Russell’s urging - and I know the two of them talked about me. When Russell was killed, Randal came down and said he was going to take care of me, protect me not only from Chip’s obsession but also from Melissa’s hatred. I believed him and went along with his plan to gain control of Thornton Development. I had the idea that things would be the same as before for me, only I’d be with Randal, instead of his brother. That’s how things were when Melissa emancipated herself. I still can’t believe what a strong person she is. She is a female version of her father.

“After you all left that day, I called Randal. After all, he had said he would protect me from just such an event. When he found out about Chip signing his shares over to Melissa and Melissa’s new will, he went ballistic. He made all kind of threats and in an unguarded moment said he should have ‘taken care of everything at one time.’ Comments like that scared me at first, but then he calmed down and told me to go along with Melissa’s demands. Once I was settled in West Palm, he came to see me. He said he was going to mount a legal challenge to Melissa’s takeover and needed my shares in Thornton Development to help his standing as a major shareholder. I told him I’d vote his way and back him but I wasn’t giving or even selling my shares to him. He wasn’t very happy about that but agreed.

“When Melissa had the company make me sell back five of my shares last week, Randal went crazy. He called me a stupid bitch and said I was a traitor and he would deal with me like he was going to deal with everyone else. That’s when I decided I had better drop out of sight. According to some hints dropped earlier by Russell, Randal has some very unsavory friends in Connecticut that he got involved with through some underhanded union dealings.”

Jake had sat in silent amazement throughout her long story. It all made sense now. Jake asked her some questions about Randal’s ‘friends’. She told him that she had never met any of them nor heard Randal speak directly of them. However, from what Russell had said, she gathered they had something to do with the Teamster and Longshoremen unions in Connecticut and Rhode Island. He asked her what her plans were now. She replied that she was going to Europe, as far away from Randal as she could get. After all the evil she had done, Jake still felt sorry for her as she sat there crying. He took her hands in his and held them.

“Jake, why don’t you come with me? I have plenty of money and I always feel safe with you,” she said.

Jake told her that as good as the offer was he had to decline it. Nevertheless, he promised that he would be there for her if she really needed him. He drove her back to her car and made sure she was safe. He handed her back her pistol. She tried to entice him to her clandestine motel room for the night saying that she would do or be anything he wanted. Once again, he declined her invitation. He did, however, make her promise to write and call him at least weekly. He needed to keep tabs on her where-abouts. Then he went home.

Jake thought about this new development on his way home. There was no reason to doubt Vivian’s story. It jibed too much with what he knew about her. Then again, could it be a very sophisticated plot? If her story held up, the lineup of suspects was down to one. It appeared that Cain slew Abel. Now what? There was still the little detail of proof. In the four months since Russell’s murder, not a single useful lead had developed. A contract killing by professionals from up north could explain that fact. At least now Jake had some information to pass on to Barry Miller. The thought struck him that maybe offering a big reward might jog some people’s memory. What else could be done? Did Randal have a weak link that could break and spill enough evidence for conviction? He wondered how Muffy was going to take this news.

Not well. Nope, she did not take it well at all. To say she was pissed at him would be a gross understatement.

“But, Honey, all I did was talk to her,” pissed her off even more.

He got the “You would have told me if you really loved me” lecture, then the “You could have been hurt, you idiot” speech.

When she kicked the nightstand, Jake had had enough. He held up his hand, palm toward her, and stopped her mid-tirade. Jake was not about to put up with that big a ration of shit for doing what he had thought was right.