The Decision

Joseph arrived at the Williamses’ estate in the late afternoon to face a vengeance he believed not even he could have imagined. He entered the manor and was quickly greeted by Emily, who informed him Margret was waiting in her father’s study and wished to speak with him immediately. The room was dim as he approached the desk where she was sitting, and the darkness constricted his sight as he approached with caution. The reception he encountered was distant and cold and, above all, detached. For the first time in all the time he had known Margret, he feared her. “Welcome home,” she said in a soft and tender voice. “Forgive me if I don’t seem too enthused about it. What on earth are you doing?” he demanded. “I have a proposition for you, one I’m sure you will approve of since it’s something you’ve wanted for quite some time.” She immediately caught his attention, but a lingering worry still troubled him, and the unknown was tantalizing him beyond belief. “And what would that be?” he asked. “My brother and I want to buy your shares in J&J Enterprises, and we are willing to offer you a very handsome sum.” “Your brother can go straight to hell, and you can go right with him,” he replied. “I don’t think you understand, Joseph; if you don’t sell me your shares, you’re only going to get what you’ve wanted for so many years: a divorce. I will file immediately and give you exactly what you want, and like you said yourself in Tisbury, you would be perfectly fine in fending for yourself. You will be left with nothing but the possibility of spending the rest of your life behind bars. But then I guess you have some sort of plan going on in that head of yours that will allow you to fend for yourself. Those were your exact words, weren’t they, Joseph? I know all about the extortion you carried out when you first met me. And if that wasn’t enough, you decided to dip your fingers into the cookie jar once again before you moved to New York. How much of my brother’s money does Mr. Jackson Bennett have?” Was this some kind of a sick joke? he wondered. What had Edward conjured up this time? For it seemed completely out of character for a woman who had fought so hard and firmly to keep her husband. What had changed? “I don’t believe you,” he said. “Well, believe this: I’m divorcing you if I don’t get those shares. Don’t even bother to fight me on this. There isn’t a judge in this country who would grant you custody. Why I’d be surprised if you were even granted visitation after I’m done with you. I’m the one who can provide our daughter with all the essentials she needs, unlike you, who will enter into a life of constant struggle or maybe even worse. Make your choice—Allison or 5 percent of J&J Enterprises.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was shocked beyond words as he stared at the innocent beauty queen who had been stranded so long ago on a dirt road, worrying if anyone would come to her rescue. At that point, he wished he had driven over her or at least continued on his merry way to Beth. “I need to get out of here.” “Don’t you walk away from me!” she shouted. But he did walk away, and he drove around for hours not knowing where he was going, until he decided to book a room at a local bed-and-breakfast with a cash bar, on the other side of town. He entered the lounge and ordered a much-needed drink to calm his nerves, but in an instant, his privacy was invaded. “Good evening, Mr. Hall! I’m surprised to see you at this end of town. What brings you here?” “I’m having a drink, Detective Eking, or is that against the law?” “No, on the contrary. Don’t mind if I join you? That’s a very impressive car you got there, and I notice it has a New York license plate.” He started to shiver, wondering exactly where the detective was heading. “Well, I live in New York,” he said. “Oh, yes, that’s right! You work at J&J Enterprises in Manhattan. But you know what sticks out about that car? The license plate ends in a 5 … and it brings me back to a cold and wintery night 5 years ago, the night Franz Adler died in a fire at his own home. You see, we searched and searched, but the only thing that appeared to be out of the ordinary that night was a dark-colored car bearing a New York plate ending in a 5.” “And what does that have to do with me?” he asked. “Well, I would say your car fits the description, wouldn’t you?” Joseph sat quietly while sipping his drink and considered where the detective might be going with this, for he had thought all along that Sophie was his prime suspect in Franz’s death. “The night Franz died, I didn’t own a car, let alone one with a New York license plate ending in a 5. Also, that happened years ago, and I’ve managed to get a car since then.” “So you say. You know many people change their cars but keep the same plated, and then there’s this other little thing that has bothered me for quite some time, and that’s the fact your bank account grew substantially just days after Franz’s death. Do you care to explain that, Mr. Hall?” Joseph was losing his patience with the wild accusations the detective was implying but remained calm for the time being. Losing his temper would only make him look guilty, and being charged with a crime he didn’t commit was the last thing he needed on his plate. “Am I under arrest, Detective? Because if I’m not, I don’t have to answer any more of your ludicrous questions. I’m beginning to think you spent your entire career blaming anyone who ever stayed at the Williams estate.” “You don’t have to get so hostile, Mr. Hall; I’m just doing my job,” he said. “And what job would that be? Harassing anybody who ever knew Franz.” The detective appeared just as Edward had visualized him, a blood-sucking vulture soaring through the sky and then swooping down to devour his helpless prey. “All I need to know is where you got a quarter of a million dollars several days after Franz died. That’s all.” “He got it from Edward,” a woman’s voice replied. Joseph’s body trembled with fright. He turned with great surprise to see Margret, for he didn’t realize she had followed him to the inn. He felt cornered on every level. Without any interruption on his part or the detective’s, she spoke again.