Authors: Priscilla Poole Rainwater
**************
Still frozen in place, Granger watched numbly as the two officers were quickly greeted by Gianne, who seemed unaffected, even somewhat cheerful. It was totally unlike her, as usually it took very little to rattle her.
Convinced they were there to arrest him, he began walking towards them on shaky legs, when suddenly his arm was caught in a vice-like grip. Surprised at the strength in that tiny hand, he turned to see the smiling face of his mother.
“Stay right here son." she muttered, her million-dollar smile never faltering for a moment.
With a graceful, confident stride, she approached them and chirped, “Why, Merry Christmas, officers! How can we help you?”
The younger officer glanced nervously at his partner, then back to her, and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh, Merry…well…Mrs. Mortensen…I’m terribly sorry to say I have some bad news concerning your husband….”
Granger watched as the sunny smile disappeared from her face in an instant, and she put two trembling hands to her mouth and began shaking her head in denial. In spite of the numb horror he felt, he was amazed by this very convincing, award-winning performance.
“Ma’am, I’m very sorry, but….your husband was involved in a single-car accident on Old Norton road. He… didn’t survive his injuries.”
‘Auto Accident?’ he thought, completely thunderstruck. ‘How did she make the….the murder look like an accident? Did she bribe the police? Did she pay someone to stage the accident?’ his mind screamed.
Continuing her act, his mother wailed like a wounded banshee and turned on the waterworks. Hands still covering her mouth, she staggered toward him drunkenly and threw herself into his arms as her wailing subsided into hoarse, braying sobs.
“No…no…noooo” she moaned.
Putting his arms around her more out of reflex than concern, he looked at Gianne in bewilderment, and the look of utter disbelief and shock on the woman’s own face, as well as her husband’s, confused him more than ever, as he knew instinctively they weren’t putting on an act.
Stepping forward with a miserable look on his face, the older officer handed him his card and asked hesitantly, “Sir, just one question: Do you have any idea why your father was out on Old Norton road to begin with? I’m sure he knew just as well as anyone else around these parts just how much more dangerous that winding, twisting road is when it’s covered with snow and ice.
It just doesn‘t make sense."
Opening his mouth to answer, he felt compelled to tell the truth, but hesitated at the last second when the image of his father beating his mother flashed before his eyes. ‘God forgive me, I can’t tell them the truth!’ he thought. Looking down at the floor, he mumbled, “No sir, I have no idea. Maybe he had been drinking, he’s been doing a lot of that lately.” ’Well, at least THAT’s not a lie…’ he thought miserably.
“We’ll be making that determination as soon as possible. Well, that’s about it for now, just come down to the station at your earliest convenience, so we can tie up any loose ends as quickly, and painlessly as possible.
Mumbling their condolences one last time, the two officers made their way to the door and saw themselves out.
Feeling sick to his stomach, he was suddenly aware that the front of his shirt was soaked with his mother’s tears. Looking around slowly, he noticed for the first time that staff members were standing all around him, each and every one of them stunned and silent.
The only sound in the house was the soft sobs of his mother, and the voice of the late Burle Ives, who was still singing ‘Have a Holly Jolly Christmas’.
‘I never want to hear that song again…’ he thought.
*********
Before his father was even laid to rest, the death was officially ruled an accident. Granger was amazed at how quickly the case was wrapped up in a neat, tidy little package. The press was still snooping around however, because one of his father’s mistresses was claiming to anyone who would listen that the death was no accident. It was just the type of juicy gossip the tabloids thrived on.
The day the ruling was handed down, family lawyers confirmed that his father had indeed left his multi-billion dollar empire to him. The law firm would control the estate and family businesses, and his mother would receive an allowance, until he turned eighteen, when it would officially be turned over to him. For his mother, there was no contesting the will, his father had
gone
to great lengths and expense to ensure it was ironclad.
********
The day of the memorial service, he shut himself up in his father’s study, tormented at what he had done. He didn’t want to hear from one more person how his father had been so proud of him, or how they knew he would turn out to be just like him. “If only they knew the truth about him……and ME.” he muttered.
Walking to the bar, he picked up a bottle of bourbon, his father’s favorite, grabbed a glass, hesitated, then put both back down.
Walking to the huge desk instead, he flopped down in the overstuffed leather chair, feeling small and overwhelmed.
Resting his elbows on the desk, he ran both his hands over his face and muttered, "I don’t want any of this, I didn’t ASK for any of this.
My God, some of my father’s supposed friends, who should be mourning the loss of him, are here trying to tell me about investments they want me to fucking consider.
Bottom feeders, every last one of them."
Swiveling the expensive chair around to face the balcony, he stared at the falling snow listlessly.
“The desk suits you, you look like a true Mortensen.” a voice startled him from his gloomy thoughts.
Turning back around, he saw his mother standing there, beaming, still clutching the key to the study in one hand.
Closing the door and locking it, she approached the desk and took a seat directly in front of him. “Since you’re the head of the family, I think you should just leave the school you’re attending now and come back here. After all, there’s a wonderful private school only thirty minutes from here. That lawyer said you have to approve all transactions if I want to spend anything more than what I’m getting with that ridiculous allowance. I don’t want to have to
wait around for your approval, when I have every right to spend as much of that money as I want. Do you know what else he told me? That I couldn’t hire or fire any of the staff! ME, the lady of the house. Imagine that! That bastard had even made sure that the running of the household is out of my hands. I hope he rots in hell!”
Knowing her as well as he did, he was acutely aware that she was trying to make a command sound like a request. He also knew that this was just the beginning of what would be a struggle for power between the two of them. He had seen her do the same with his father.
Suddenly desperate to be away, he stood and said, “I’m going to finish my senior year at the academy, not here. After that, I’ll start college immediately, this summer, instead of the fall. Everything will be fine here. Between now and then, just hope and pray our lies and deceit won’t catch up with us, and we both end up in prison.”
A strange, puzzled look crossed her face, and for once, he wasn’t certain it was an act, which puzzled him even more.
“Yes, well…stop worrying dear. I told you I would protect you. We have each other, no one can change that or come between us, as long as you remember I‘m the one protecting you. Everything will be fine. We need one another, always remember that. You need me, and I need you, it’s a two-way street.”
Snapping out of it, and suddenly feeling as if he was being suffocated, Granger exploded from his chair and rushed to the balcony, flinging the doors open. Running outside, he began taking deep, giant breaths as he leaned on the railing. Closing his eyes, he focused on controlling his erratic breathing, then opened them again as a bitter thought surfaced.
I traded one prison for another. My mother…my jailor….
the voice said. Gripping the railing tightly, he looked down at the beautiful courtyard.
I could take just one step and end all of this. I could stop the pain that has been eating at my soul like a cancer…
he
thought, and on the heels of that,
No, I can’t leave Cass and Regan. I’m Granger Mortensen, and it’s time to face the past.
“You’ll never be a Mortensen!”
his father’s words cut through his thoughts like a surgeon’s scalpel. “How wrong you were, you would be proud of the bastard I‘ve become. I may not have been brought to life by your seed, but you bred me into the SOB that I am. I told you that one day I would be a colder bastard than you ever could be. Guess when I see you in hell, you can finally tell me how proud of me you are, and actually mean it, FATHER.” he muttered angrily.
Bleakly, he thought that he truly had became cold and ruthless over the years, but there had been one exception to that, his Cassandra. The only person he had ever opened up to and allowed inside. She was a balm to his emotional wounds and tortured soul, and he could not, would not, give up on her.
Closing his eyes again, he smiled softly, remembering the simple things. Until the day he died, he would never forget one day in particular when she showed up at his office,
interrupting a heated board meeting. Up till that point his roaring could be heard throughout the building, as he was threatening to fire anyone and everyone who had a hand in an oversight that had cost the company millions. She had convinced his frightened secretary to let her inside, where she had caught his attention, then beckoned to him with a sweet smile. “Can I have a word?” was all she had said. He had been surprised and caught off guard, seeing her dressed in a bathing suit, and her trademark short shorts. And to the bewilderment of everyone present, he had calmed down instantly and left, turning the meeting over to his relieved second-in-command.
She had driven him to a local state park, saying that he needed a break from the headaches once in awhile. Taking two lawn chairs from the trunk of the car, they sat and watched children swimming and having fun in the public pool. Grabbing a cooler from the back seat, she had opened it and took out two small, frozen ice cream cakes, and handed one to him. As they ate in silence, he remembered thinking that they must have looked like the ultimate odd-couple, him wearing a thousand-dollar Armani business suit, and her clad in a bikini with short-shorts, eating ice cream cake.
“Ok, so what brought all this on?” he had asked.
“Oh, I think you just need to stop and smell the roses once in awhile. Watching the kids play might teach you how to have fun again. You’re always working, and I bet when you get back there, your board meeting will go easier and your employees will thank me for making you a sweeter, kinder, Granger. "
Although he had never told her so, he wouldn’t have traded that day for anything in his life. It was like she was helping him be the child he was never allowed to be when he was a boy. And just as she had predicted, he went back to work grinning and being so agreeable his employees didn’t know what to think.
That had been just the beginning of her little surprise visits to the office. He found out later, much to his amusement, that after they married, his secretary would call her on the sly, when he was in an unbearable mood. Just being in her presence gave him so much joy, made him feel alive, made him feel wanted.
Closing his eyes again, tears began streaming down his cheeks as he thought about how he hadn’t know a thing about love, until he had met her. She had taught him. She had given him her unconditional love, a thing he never knew existed. She gave him so much more than that. She gave him, taught him, not only about love, but faith, and hope. And he had selfishly taken all she had to offer, believing it was his due. His selfishness had cost his wife her stability, and he had turned a blind eye to it just like all those years ago when he had killed his father. Now he was like a junkie hurting from the craving of a drug, her love had become an addiction he couldn’t live without, he needed her just to feel alive. When her mental health began to decline, as she grew more paranoid, suspicious and angry, instead of standing up and trying to help her, it had frightened him. Thinking he was losing her, he had retreated into his shell, becoming the frightened little boy once more, instead of the man he should have been. He had shut down. He had failed her when she needed him
the most. He really had ended up just like his father. When it came to business, he could move mountains, but at home, where things mattered the most, he couldn’t even manage to keep his wife safe and happy.
As he opened his eyes and wiped the tears away angrily, another thought hit him, one that nearly made his knees buckle. Could his mother have played a role in his beloved wife’s disappearance?
‘ If she did have anything to do with it, the hell father put her through will seem like a tip-toe through the tulips by the time I’m finished with her…
he thought grimly. Staring off into space, he began analyzing the possibility. He knew the only reason his mother wanted him to marry Martina was because she wasn’t threatened by her, they were peas in a pod. Cassandra, on the other hand, would be just the type of woman she feared. Outspoken, independent, and able to influence his every decision. In short, the type of woman dear old dad hoped he would marry some day, just to spite her.
I
t’s time to do the right thing. For Cassandra, my son, and for me. It’s time I paid for my sins…
he decided.
Composing himself, and with determination in every step, he went back inside, closed the balcony doors, and snatched his cell phone from the desk. His first call was to his accountant, telling him he wanted an itemized, detailed account of his mother’s spending six months before, and six months after his wife’s disappearance. The next call was to his attorney. When the man (Alex Caldwell) answered, he wasted no time with pleasantries and got straight down to business. “Alex, I want my will changed, ASAP.