Chapter One
The swollen corner pockets of the striped,vinyl canopy overhead were near to bursting despite the protectionit provided from the torrential downpour. Mindlessly, Jessicastared at the quarter-sized holes the pelting rain was carving intothe ground surrounding her and the other members of her deadhusband’s family. She noticed how other’s in attendance werefailing miserably at maintaining control of their umbrellas, as theforceful winds wrestled to pull them from their grasps.
Streaks of lightning illuminated the skyabove distracting her attention. Her petite frame shivered, as shelooked up at the menacing sky. The chilly autumn winds penetratedher thin raincoat and whipped at the veil covering her heart-shapedface. The dark mahogany casket in front of her was beautifullydraped with a blanket of white gardenias and yellow roses. Despitethat her husband’s lifeless body occupied its confines, she feltvoid of all emotion.
She wanted nothing more than to see this daycome to an end. Her husband’s parents, Hal and Lorraine Wilton,were playing their grieving role for the media and those inattendance impressively. It sickened her to have to stand therebeside them.
What a charade, she thought, as shegazed to her right at Father Mulcahy, pastor of St. Augustine’schurch.
He was doing his very best to offer somesemblance of closure. Jessica knew Father Mulcahy viewed herin-laws ‘pretend show of grief’ a complete sham as well. If itwasn’t for her pastor’s support and refuge at times, Jessica knewshe would be the one lying there in the casket instead ofRichard.
Her eyes slowly scanned the faces of themourners standing before her. Most were merchants from town, whoshe knew were there more out of fear, than respect for the Wiltonname. The entire front row of onlookers shuffled forward closer tothe casket, as Father Mulcahy cleared his throat to conduct thefinal prayer.
Another gust of wind caught the pastor’swide-sleeved surplice and puffed him up like a balloon andthreatened to lift him skyward. Jessica could not help but smile,as she watched him wrestle to maintain some sense of reserve andcontrol. He was such a witty man, who could stir someone tolaughter faster than the winds that lashed about him. His softIrish brogue could calm the most unsettling soul like a mother’slullaby.
Jessica sucked in a deep breath and let itout slowly, as he raised his arms heavenward and began theblessing.
“Dearly beloved. We gath’r here befar yat’day to bid farewell to Richard Michael Wilton, a lad loved and…”
Jessica rolled her eyes in disgust. It wasgoing to take every ounce of strength she could muster to getthrough this ceremony.
Dear God,she silently prayed,giveme strength … pa …leez.
Absently, she reached beneath the dark veilshe wore, and rubbed her bruised and swollen cheekbone. It wasthrobbing like a bad toothache.
Would she ever forget,she wondered,as the ache began to remind her of that terrible evening?
Her husband’s rage was the worse it had everbeen the night he died, driven by the alcohol he had consumed andhis heinous reaction toward her evening out in the company of herAunt without him. She had been raised to be a strong,compassionate, and independent woman. The apple did not fall farfrom the tree, where he was concerned though. Like his father,Richard was dominating, controlling, abusive, and a womanizer.
Their one-year marriage was a mockery of whattrue love was supposed to be. Richard did not prove the man he hadprojected during their courtship. He had only pursued her, becausehis father had ordained it. She was, after all, heir to theNewcombe Dynasty. It wasn’t long, before abuse became a part of herevery day existence.
Their argument that night, had turnedterribly heated, when she announced her plans to divorce him. Hehad caught her off guard with a sucker-punch that had sent herreeling backward. He wasted no time climbing atop her, his handscircling her throat, squeezing until she was on the edge ofgreeting death.
She remembered the sneer upon his face, as heslowly reduced the pressure around her throat and then rolled offher. He had watched her crawl on her hands and knees to escape him,her eyes blinded by stinging tears, as she tried desperately tosuck air back into her lungs.
When he had attempted to rise, he weaved,then stumbled, losing his balance and falling onto their glasscoffee table. As it imploded, it afforded her the opportunity toseek refuge in their bedroom. She had managed to lock him out, asshe retrieved the small snub-nosed revolver she knew Richard keptin his Gentleman’s Chest.
She had dialed 911, and told the dispatcherRichard attempted to choke her and she feared for her life. Thedispatcher knew she was in possession of her husband’s gun andpromised to stay on the line with her, until a police unit arrived.The dispatcher heard Richard’s threats to kill her, when he brokethe door down. They had recorded her terrifying pleas for them tohurry and her blood-curdling screams, when the door’s panelsplintered apart and the shot that went off, killing her husbandinstantly.
Jessica shuddered, as tears streamed from hereyes. It was over. The District Attorney exonerated her based-onself-defense. Now, all she had to do was get away from Hal Wilton,who she knew, would do everything in his power to stop her. Shegazed upon the casket still feeling hopeful. Nothing was going tostop her. Not even the great Hal Wilton.
The party she had attended with her Aunt thenight that Richard had died, had been a liberating and gloriousreprieve for the short while they were together. What she hadn’texpected, was her immediate fondness for the handsome Senator fromupstate New York the party had been hosted for. However, brieftheir introduction was, he was a man that was hard to forget.
Sen. Gallagher was the kind of man a womanwanted to see his slippers under her bed, and his body in it.Despite his charm and formidable good looks, he stood behind apolitical platform she respected. Jessica understood why her Auntsupported his re-election for office so adamantly. He was adecorated Special Forces Marine veteran and a well-respected formerpolice detective for the City of Albany. Her Aunt had confided thatevening, that when she told the Senator of Jessica’s degree inpublic relations and communications, he was interested in speakingwith her about a vacancy in his executive office for Director ofCommunications.
Jessica never had the chance to have thattalk, since he was whirled away on some state emergency. Just toknow that chance was hers, gave Jessica the kind of hope for escapeshe could cling to. She knew that her Aunt would help heraccomplish that goal.
I wish I was there right now,sheadmitted silently.
`There was nothing she needed more, than anew start, knee deep in a position that would fill her days andmany evenings, working for a distinguished senator, who was bent onchanging the world. If it wasn’t for her Aunt Florence being calledaway for an emergency board meeting, Jessica knew her Aunt wouldhave been there right now by her side, striking fear into the likesof Hal Wilton.
She watched as those before her shuffleduncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances amongst themselves. Shepitied them for the mindless puppets they had become, and detestedHal for making them that way. She shot her father-in-law a look ofdisgust.
Hal Wilton reined with tyranny both over thetown he owned and his family. Even now, they stood high upon adais, separating them from the “little people”, as he so oftenreferred to the townspeople as.
Jessica jumped with a start and stiffened,when Hal’s left hand glided along her back and began to massage itseductively. As his palm slid to her derriere and cupped itpossessively, she reached her left hand behind and dug hermanicured nails into his flesh, until he released her. Even thoughhe could not see her face, she still sent him a look ofdisdain.
“Stop it!” She hissed in a voice that waslow, yet menacing.
