Well here is the next part. Thank you so much for the feedback, it means so much to me. Please keep it coming. Also thank you to my new BETA Pamela
Children of Antar City was also updated today.
roswell3053 - your question will be answered in part 8
KatnotKath - Thank you
Evelynn - thanks for the bump
txndreamer06 - thank you
tequathisy - thanks
FSU/MSW-94 - I am also glad the guys were not harmed.
RoswellFreamer_bb10 - There will be more letters to come.
Mica - Thank you for reading.
orphyfets - you will have to wait for the next part to see if Liz writes back
cherie- thank you
begonia9508 - Yes Max is a great man!
Erina -yup Max knows something embrassing about Gary!
Lazza - thanks
Rhonda Ann - yes it is agreat way for her to havge some contact with Michael
Vampyrax - I thought your pen pal comment was so cute that I added it to Serena's dialogue in this part. Thanks!
Gamma Rho Girl - Thank you for the compliment.
Chapter 7
“Who is Max Evans?” asked Serena, repeating the question when Liz didn’t answer. That really is the question, isn’t it, Liz thought to herself.
“He’s Michael’s cell mate,” she explained.
Serena looked at Liz with confusion. “Well why is he writing to you? You don’t know him do you?” she asked, her voice drenched with suspicion.
“Serena.” Liz rolled her eyes. “No of course I don’t know him. I’ve never even met the guy.”
“Well why did he write to you then?” Serena eyed her, again suspiciously.
“I don’t know.” Liz ‘s tone was harsh. She was exasperated. She wished Serena would stop with the 20 questions. She was trying to think.
“Well what did he say?” she asked.
“That Michael wasn’t going to write me back so he did….to let me know that…Michael was ok I guess,” Liz explained, summing up the letters’ contents. The letter was more than that though; his words were warm and comforting, enveloping her like a soft blanket.
“Interesting.” Serena walked over to Liz and gave her a playful jab in the arm. “That was nice of him. I mean it sucks Michael didn’t write you back but at least you know he’s ok and you’ve got a prison pen pal.” Serena laughed.
Liz shivered at the thought. Part of her was pleased that he had taken the time to write to her, the other was terrified that this stranger, a convicted murderer, had written to her. He knew her name. He knew her address. This couldn’t be a good thing.
“So what do you know about him. What is he in for?”
“I don’t know,” Liz lied. For reasons she couldn’t describe, this letter was too personal for her to discuss. She felt that sharing it with Serena would be like sharing a page from her own personal diary, something she would never do. She told herself that her thoughts made no sense, that it was just some weird letter she got from a convicted felon. But deep down she knew there was more to it than that.
Serena could tell Liz was keeping something from her but knew her friend well enough to know not to push her. “So I guess the question now is are you going to write him back?”
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Isabelle was visiting her mother again. One of the nurses said she had had a horrible night, tossing and turning in her sleep yelling Max’s name over and over again. She felt so helpless as she sat beside her mother, talking to her and brushing her hair, receiving nothing at all. Were her visits even helpful? Was her mother even aware of her presence?
Max would be so disappointed in her if he could see her now, unable to enjoy life and be completely happy, the two things he had always wanted for her. But how could she be? Sure she had a great husband and a great job but she couldn’t enjoy it knowing her mother was in such a state and her brother was in jail. How could she enjoy life while they both suffered? she thought as her mind drifted back to the last visit he had allowed her to have with him. He had been in the jail a few months when she visited him.
“Be happy Iz. That’s all I ever wanted for you.” He said, through mournful eyes.
“I can’t be…not…not without you.” She replied, her mind silently begging him to allow her to make things right again. She lowered her head to hide the tears that were preparing to fall.
“Hey.” His voice was comforting as he lifted her chin so that he could see her. “You don’t need me to protect you anymore. Not from him. You’re free.”
“And Alex, he’s a stand up guy. You couldn’t have picked better.” Isabelle smiled at this remark. Alex was a great guy, the greatest in fact, especially for putting up with her through the trial. She had been and still was an emotional basket case.
She looked at the gash across his forehead. It looked deep. She reached up to touch it gently but Max quickly pulled back. He didn’t need her mothering him. “But who is going to protect you?” She asked, hurt that he had pulled away.
‘I will. And this.” He pointed to his forehead and then shrugged “Is not so bad.” He chuckled.
She knew he was lying to spare her feelings. He was trying to pretend he was fine, making a joke of it. Max had a wonderful sense of humor. Over the years, especially when things were bad at home she had gotten through it because of Max’s loving jokes. But could they really solve anything now? She doubted it. He would need a lot more than a few funny lines or one of those impressions he was so good at to survive in prison.
“Really Iz, you should see the other guy.” He was still laughing.
After she said her heartfelt goodbye, dragging it on for as long as he would allow her to she somehow managed to find her way to the parking lot where Alex was waiting for her. She wondered what was really in her brother’s heart, how bad it truly was behind those bars. Was he still laughing the way he was during their visit or had he broken down into uncontrollable sobs? Her last visit, the pain of that thought hurt her too deeply for words. Why was he doing this? She had never asked him to, nobody had. Then on top of it all to refuse her help. Would she ever see her brother again she asked herself as Alex opened the car door for her? And if she did, if he ever got out, would he be the same man that had done Schwarzenneggar impressions until she almost peed her pants, helped her with trigonometry when she couldn’t understand the formulas, and kept her safe at home. She shook her head. There was no point asking the question, when she already knew the answer.
“Where to?” Alex asked as he placed his hand on hers lovingly.
“Let’s go home.”
Isabelle said goodbye to her mother once again and was not surprised to receive no reply. She gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head, picked up her purse and headed down the hall.
Her cell rang and she answered knowing it was Alex. She really needed to hear his voice.
“Hi sweetie.”
‘So how would you like to go up to the cabin for our anniversary this weekend?” he asked her.
“Umm… this weekend?” Isabelle sighed. She loved going to the cabin with Alex but she didn’t feel this was the right time. Reading that Tess was back in town had brought back some unpleasant memories, but had also reminded her of some of the things that had happened four years ago. She had really wanted to do some research this weekend, make sense of some of the inaccuracies brought up at trial.
“What’s wrong with this weekend?” Alex sighed. He had thought Isabelle would jump at the idea. A weekend away was exactly what they needed to break the funk she had been in lately.
“Sure honey. The cabin sounds wonderful” quickly changing her tune. She couldn’t say no. She knew that she hadn’t been herself lately, was reverting back to whom she had been when her father had died. She was neglecting her marriage and if she wasn’t careful she would lose Alex. She couldn’t let that happen.
After making dinner plans she hung up the phone and quickly looked at her watch. It was only 3 p.m. Maybe all was not lost. She had exactly enough time to make a stop on the way to the restaurant. There was something she needed to find out.
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Max wondered if writing to Liz had been the right thing to do or had he just scared her off? She must have received the letter by now. What was she thinking as she read his words? Not knowing had him in agony. Would he write her back? He hoped she would find comfort if nothing else.
He needed to get his mind on something else, anything else. It was the end of the day and he and Michael were just sitting in their cell, not doing anything.
He leaned back against the wall. “If I was at home right now I would be watching Law and Order and eating a bowl of chocolate chip ice cream.” He said. “Then I would drive over to my sister and brother-in-law’s for dinner. My mom would come too and we would all have spaghetti with garlic bread for supper and then go for a walk in the desert” he said closing his eyes.
“Nice fantasy.” Michael laughed. “But that’s all it is.”
“Oh come on.” Max encouraged him. “You’ll feel much better.”
“Fine,” Michael replied. Michael thought giving in was better than arguing with him, especially when he was trapped behind a set of steel bars with him for hours on end. “I’d probably be out for a ride on my bike, the wind in my hair and Maria on back. We’d stop at the old lake and make love under the stars,” he said with a smile. But as he got absorbed in the fantasy his smile faded and he slammed his hand into the wall.
“What?” Max exclaimed.
“Now I feel worse. That’s what. You got me thinking of things that will never happen.” He sighed.
“Fantasies are what keep me going,” Max sighed rubbing his eyes.
“Not me. It’s easier to just forget,” Michael said.
“So tell me about Lindsay’s, that strip club. Is that the owner’s name or is there really a girl who dances there named Lindsay?” he asked hoping to find out the rest of what really happened the night Michael committed manslaughter.
“I’m not talking about it. I told you that so don’t push.” Michael roared at him.
“Oh come on.” Max laughed. I’m really curious about this Lindsay.”
Michael just raised his eyebrow. “The owners are Mary and Peter Wilson. All the girls have stage names. The most popular one at any given time they name Lindsay,” he explained.
“Smart marketing plan. So everyone thinks that Lindsay is the Lindsay then?” Max asked.
“Exactly,” Michael explained.
“So what happened that night that you and Sean went there?” he asked.
“Why do you care?” he asked him, exasperated. Couldn’t he see how painful this was for him?
“Because I’m nosy and have nothing better to do.” He said, his laugh met with a bitter look from Michael. “Oh come on, you know I’m joking. I think you need to get it off your chest Michael. That’s why I am pushing you. You will feel better.”
Michael closed his eyes and took himself and Max back to that night.
“Ok,” Michael said as the truck sped down the highway. “One drink, that’s it and then straight back home to load the truck,” he explained.
“Yes dad.” Sean laughed as they pulled into the parking lot at Lindsay’s.
“Cherry Pie is dancing tonight,” Sean told him with a wink as they entered Lindsay’s and joined their friends Randy and Peter at a small table by the stage.
“Woo hoo! The guest of honor is here!” Randy shouted as Michael sat down. He placed a cowboy hat on his head and a beer in his hand.
“Well, looks like the guest of honor has arrived. Cherry Pie has been waiting for you Michael Parker,” a man announced from the stage.
“What’s going on?” he asked Sean in a panic.
“This is your bachelor party. Tomorrow your moving in with Maria. That’s practically like marriage so we’ve arranged a special evening for you. You’re even going to get a private lap dance from Cherry Pie in the back room later,” he said happily giving Michael a pat on the back.
“Sean, I didn’t want this,” Michael exclaimed knowing how angry Maria would be when she found out, and she would find out. In this small town nothing was ever a secret.
“It’s ok buddy. You don’t have to thank me. Although getting you here tonight wasn’t easy.”
Michael looked at his friends. He wanted to be home packing. He needed to be home but they had gone to so much trouble to show him a good time that he decided he’d stay a little longer. “Another beer,” he said, motioning towards the waitress.
It was already midnight. Michael had declined Cherry Pie’s offer for a lap dance much to the guys chagrin. Not wanting to waste the money they had already given her, Randy happily went in Michael’s place.
Sean was completely loaded. Michael had about 4 beers himself and was a little tipsy, a little drink but definitely not wasted like Sean.
“Come on. Time to get home and packed,” he said.
“Mike, stay…so much fun here. You’re having fun right?” he asked in his drunken state.
“Yeah, it was fun but you promised to help me load the truck,” he said. Although Sean was in no condition to be moving anything tonight, Michael figured he could crash on his couch and they would start loading in a few hours when the alcohol had worn off.
“Let’s take a cab,” he suggested.
“Peter, can you call us a cab?” he asked the bartender.
“Love to Michael, but the cab company went on strike yesterday. Sorry.” He shrugged.
Damn, Micheal thought. There was only one cab company that ran this time of night so they were out of luck. How the heck were they going to get home.
“Give me your keys,” he said to Sean.
“Mikey are you sure you can drive?” he asked as he started to lose his balance.
Michael helped Sean walk through the parking lot and get into the passenger side of the truck. “Yes I am sure,” he said. He only had 4 drinks and he was walking fine. Besides the drive home was a short one, highway almost all the way and no one was out this time of night. He promised Maria he would be at her doorstep with all of his stuff at 8 am and he was not going to let her down.
They had been on the highway for only a few minutes when it happened. There was nothing there and then suddenly a deer was standing in the middle of the road directly in front of them. There was no time to react. Michael slammed on the breaks but it was too late. He ducked as they hit, the deer instantly flying up onto the windshield, its weight smashing right through it sending shards of glass into the front seat.
“Sean. Sean.” Michael opened his eyes to see that the deer had struck the passenger side and then had been thrown off just as quickly. There was so much blood. “Sean,” he croaked again, reaching out towards his friend who was no longer there. He opened the truck to see Sean laying motionless 10 feet away. He ran towards him screaming his name over and over again, knowing without a doubt that he would be dead.
Tears escaped Michael’s eyes as he told Max the story. This was the first time he had cried, not at the trial, not at the funeral, but now as he sat here in his cell with Max.
“Man you really would make a good lawyer,” he said, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.
“What? Why?” Max croaked out softly sharing his friend’s pain.
“I swore I would never tell that story again, but you have this way of getting things out of people.”
“It was an accident you know.” Max tried to comfort him.
“I shouldn’t have been driving. I was drunk.” Michael shook his head. Everyone had been trying to convince him it wasn’t his fault but he knew better.
“If it was another car I could understand the manslaughter charge but it was a deer Michael. It could have happened to a sober person.”
“I would have seen it Max. My blood alcohol level was high.”
“How high?”
“Let’s put it this way. I only remember having 4 beers that night but with that blood alcohol level….”
“You’d had a lot more?” Max asked.
Michael nodded. “And I didn’t even put his seat belt on. His body was thrown 10 feet through that windshield.” Michael bent his head in shame. “I put mine on though.”
“It was probably just habit.” Max reasoned. “You were so used to putting it on.”
“I should have just waited until the morning. Even Sean in his wasted state didn’t think I should drive. God Max.” He sobbed. “He was my best friend and Maria’s cousin. Was this what you wanted Max?” he screamed. “To see me break?”
“No, I thought that…” Max didn’t know what to say.
“Well you thought wrong.”
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“My brother has a college fund here. I’d like to know the status of it,” Isabelle said to Mr. Snide as she sat in his office at the Arizona Imperial Bank.
“Look Mrs. Whitman. I’m sure you understand that for confidentiality reasons I cannot give you any information on your brother’s account,” he explained.
“But I’m his sister,” she stated as if that would make any difference.
“But you’re not listed in his file. Only he has access to his account,” Mr. Snide said calmly, trying not to upset one of the bank’s biggest clients.
“I am sure I don’t have to remind you of the assets and liabilities that my husband and I have at this bank,” she said starting to feel her temper rising.
Mr. Snide gulped. ‘I am well aware of that.” He was also well aware that she was starting to get angry.
“We could just take our mortgage elsewhere and our investments,” she threatened, knowing this was his fear.
His manager would kill him if the Whitman’s changed banks but he could go to jail for revealing client information. “If your brother would just add your name to the access list it wouldn’t be a problem,” he suggested.
“My brother is in jail so how exactly could he do that?” She raised her tone, stood up and leaned over the desk to stare at him.
He didn’t know what to say.
“I just want to look at it. I don’t need any of the money. No one will ever know.”
He gave it some thought. Her brother was in jail and would never know. If it came down to it, he could deny it. He sighed and opened the file.
“Ok, your brother’s account has only $100 dollars in it.”
“That’s impossible. He should have had $80,000 in there,” Isabelle protested.
He turned the page to look at the most recent transaction. “No, in 2002 it was transferred to another account.”
“Whose account?” Isabelle asked, wondering if her suspicions were right.
Mr. Snide shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Mrs. Whitman, I’ve already told you more than I should…I don’t think that I can…” He gulped. Was it hot in here or what?
“Whose account?”she asked again, no intention of leaving his office without the information.
He looked back at the file. “A Miss Tess Harding,” he said and then looked up to see her expression.
Isabelle wasn’t surprised at all.