The Westington Legacy: 1.4

I spent the next several days and several nights feeling miserable. I had lost Molly, and it was my own fault. She would not answer my calls, and I knew she was ignoring me and was still upset. I knew I wanted to win her back, but I didn’t know how. Finally it occurred to me: I had to take a risk. I went out and bought her an engagement ring. It was a lot of money to spend on something so uncertain, but I had to try. The past few days and nights had proven to me how deeply I cared for her, and I finally recognized that she deserved to be my wife and that I was ready to be her husband. I had moved on from “my Celeste.” Although her memory would always be dear to me, and I would always love her, I had finally come to understand that to keep love alive I could no longer dwell on the love from the past. Molly was now my Molly. She was my present and future, and I knew by how much pain I was in, that I loved her deeply and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, even if I hadn’t realized it before. And so I decided to take a risk and finally open my heart once again. I looked Gavin up on the internet and found his address. I would go to her and beg for her forgiveness.

I drove to Gavin’s house, which looked quite dilapidated and rang the doorbell. Molly answered.

“Victor, what are you doing here?” she asked. She did not look pleased to see me. I took the bouquet of roses I had brought for her out from behind my back. She smiled and sniffed them, but then stopped. “Victor, I can’t accept these,” she said sadly handing them back to me.

“Please, Molly,” I began. “I love you. I’m a changed man. I--”

“Goodnight, Victor” she said with definitiveness that broke my heart.

“Wait, Molly, please!” I begged. “I took off my ring -- I’ve moved on -- I want you. I want to be with someone real, not someone who only exists in my memories.”

Molly turned around at this. She smiled slightly.

“You mean it?” she asked.

“Of course I do,” I replied, gazing into her eyes.

Molly looked hesitant, but she must have seen the look in my eyes and knew that I was sincere. She embraced me warmly.

“I’m sorry, Molly.” I said quietly. “I truly do love you.”

“I love you too, Victor,” Molly said squeezing me.

It was now or never. I pulled away from Molly’s embrace and got down on one knee.

“Molly, will you do me the honor of being my wife?” I asked. I had butterflies in my stomach. I had always been fairly confident, but this was different. This was the decision that would decide the rest of my life.

“Oh, Victor!” she cried embracing me around the neck. “Yes! Oh, Victor! Yes!” I slipped the ring onto her finger, and I saw that tears were running down her cheeks. My eyes became slightly blurred too.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you too,” she replied kissing me passionately.

“What’s going on out there?” yelled Gavin from inside. I took Molly’s hand and she lead me inside.

We entered Gavin’s house to find him lazily watching tv on a beat-up couch. His living room looked like a college dorm room with trash on the floor and posters on the wall.

“We’re through,” Molly told Gavin. Gavin looked surprised.

“C’mon, babe, I thought you wanted to work this out!” Gavin whined.

“You mean nothing to me,” Molly said harshly. “I just wanted to see my daughter…” Tears came to her eyes. “But I can tell she still doesn’t want to see me. I can’t make her, and I can’t ruin my life so that she can ignore me.”

My heart felt like a rock. I understood why Molly had gone back to Gavin. Sandi still needed both a father and a mother. Apparently, she would only have one.

“Victor and I are engaged. Goodbye, Gavin,” Molly said turning her back on him.

Sandi entered the room and looked surprised to see me, but then ignored my presence. Gavin was seething with rage. I knew this couldn’t end well.

Before I knew it, Gavin lunged over the coffee table and tackled me. He had me pinned to the floor, and I struggled to get up. I saw his hard fist coming right at my face.

“Gavin, no!” Molly shouted.

Then I felt pain shoot through my cheek. I heard Molly gasp. I pushed Gavin away from me and scrambled to my feet. Sandi and Molly were watching in shock. I was normally a non-violent man, but I had been attacked. I shoved Gavin against the wall and punched him back. He tried to push me away from him, but I had his arms pinned to the wall.

“Stop or I’ll call the police,” I dared him glaring into his eyes. Gavin struggled but finally gave up.

“Molly, get the baby,” I told her. Molly ran into the other room as quickly as she could.

“Sandi, please. Come with us. We only wanted what was best for you,” I pleaded. Sandi put her hand on her hip and scowled at me. Then she simply walked out of the room without a word. Molly re-entered the room with our son, and I was so happy to see him. I was so happy that we would have a family again. I took Molly’s hand, and we turned to walk out the door. Gavin grabbed me by the back of my collar and tried to drag me back into the room. I turned around and punched him so hard in the face that he recoiled in pain. Molly and I walked out of Gavin’s house and went home.

“Oh, Molly, I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling her into bed next to me. “I was so foolish,” I continued, taking her hand and kissing it. “Please forgive me.”

“I already have,” Molly said pulling me close and kissing me so passionately.

“I love you Molly. Thank you for taking me back,” I said looking into her eyes. “I was miserable without you.”

Molly kissed me sweetly on the cheek and smiled.

“I know it must have been hard for you,” she said. “Did you find out anything on your trip?” she asked.

“Oh, you don’t want to talk about that,” I said, not wanting to upset her with my past life.

“Victor, I know this was part of your life. I understand,” she told me giving my hand a squeeze.

“We found out who it was -- the man I ran against for mayor -- He blackmailed me and killed my wife...but we can’t prove it…” I said, reluctant to talk about it.

“You’re just going to let it go?” Molly asked surprised.

“There’s nothing we can do.” I replied. “Besides, I think it’s time that I closed the door on that part of my life...You’re my life now, Molly. Only you.”

“Oh, Victor!” Molly cried. She squeezed me so tightly and began kissing me non-stop. I realized that for once, I was truly happy, without any brooding thoughts to hinder me.

Over the next several months, Molly and I began to plan our wedding, but it went slowly because I was starting my campaign for mayor. I worked long hours and made speeches, but every night, I was so happy to come home to my soon-to-be-wife, and my son. It was not long until he became a toddler and was crawling all over the place.

Eric was such a sweet, good-tempered little boy, and I could have spent endless hours playing with him, had I not been launching my mayoral campaign. I made an effort to spend what little time I had with my family. I realized happily that soon we would be a real family; Molly would be my wife, and we would be his parents bound together by vows.

I ended up running against a woman named Judy Lombard. She was very educated and made very good speeches, but she came across as too prim and proper. I think people found her a bit cold. I was relieved that she wasn’t too aggressive in her campaign, as I had been slandered before and did not appreciate it. She ran a tasteful campaign and had a small but loyal following, but people did not like her enough to make her the mayor. People said that my enthusiasm and inspirational speeches overshadowed her. I also prided myself on not being overly-idealistic and only making promises I felt I could keep. I could help clean up Sunset Valley and gain more money for the local schools, but I refused to make empty promises that would require more power than I could muster.

I was so proud when I became mayor, but I knew that it would require more work than ever before. Molly, too, was very busy with her career as a chef, so we often had to hire a babysitter. I missed spending time with Molly and Eric, but I made as much time as I could. I was more popular as the mayor of Sunset Valley than I ever could have imagined. The people liked and respected me, and I tried to be worthy of their regards.

Over the next several months, I noticed that my hair was starting to go gray. Molly told me that it made me look respectable and distinguished, but I felt self-conscious. Being the mayor certainly wore on me. My “Clean the Town” campaign was thriving, but local activists never seemed to think I was doing enough. I provided extra money to the local schools and did my best to ensure that the community was a safe place for children and families. I accomplished a good amount during my career as mayor, but I always felt I could have done more.

Soon, I could no longer deny that I was an old man. Molly too, had aged, although I still thought she looked beautiful. We had both advanced in our careers. I was now the governor, and she was now an Executive Chef. My duties still took me away from home a lot, but I was so happy with my Molly and my little Eric.

When our wedding day finally came, I was overjoyed. I could tell that Molly was brimming with joy too.

“I love you so much, Molly” I whispered to her as we stood at the altar. “I’m sorry we didn’t get married sooner. I know we’re older than most newlyweds, but I’m so glad we got a chance to make our vows, even if it was late.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Molly said with a sassy grin. I smiled and obliged. Everyone cheered, and even little Eric clapped enthusiastically. It was happily ever after, even if it was a little late...

The Westington Legacy: 1.3

Molly and I were thrilled to have a son. He was our little Eric. Not only was it a child, it was a child we had together. I think Molly was relieved to have the father of her child to help out. Molly was a great mother. I knew she still blamed herself for the way Sandi had turned out, so she made an extra effort to be there for her son. While she was very kind and loving to me, I had no idea that she could be so sweet and gentle. She loved our little Eric dearly.

I found myself amazed by him. He was a little wonder. I looked into his eyes and marveled at how such a tiny, vulnerable creature could come from us. Whenever I held him, I felt something I had never felt before: it was not only love, but a duty to care for him and protect him. He was my son, and I was so grateful that I was given the opportunity to have a child before my time was up. He was my Eric, and even as a newborn, he was the apple of my eye.

A few weeks after Eric was born, Molly said she wanted to talk. I wondered what it could be about.

“I want to get married, Victor,” she said, not taking the time to ease into the conversation.

“What?” I said dumbly. “You said you never wanted to get married.”

“Victor, that was a long time ago. I’m a different person now. We have a life together. We have a son, Victor!” she said in exasperation.

I stared at her. I had not seen this coming at all, and I had no idea what to say. She took my silence as a “no,” and I had to admit that it was.

“I can’t believe after all of this you --” Molly stopped mid-sentence, unable to finish.

“What?” I challenged.

“After all of this you still don’t love me as much as you loved your dead wife,” she said, voice filled with emotion and her eyes brimming over with tears.

“That’s not true!” I protested. But my words fell lamely, and I realized that she was right. Molly was flushed with a mix of anger and sadness now. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, no matter how hard she tried to hold them in.

“Yes it is! What about that ring on your finger?! You’ve never taken it off!”

I stared at the ring. The ring I wore for my Celeste. Then it struck me. I still thought of her as “my Celeste.” She was never simply Celeste, and Molly had never been my Molly. I felt horrible. I wondered how I could have lead Molly on for so long while my heart was still with my dearly departed wife.

Molly watched me have my realization. I opened my mouth the say something -- I don’t remember what -- and she ran out of the room into our bedroom.

Suddenly my phone rang.

It was Detective Rider. My heart leapt. I had not heard from him in several years. He had told me that it was a cold case and that there was no more evidence to be found. That’s when I had moved to Sunset Valley, giving up all hope.

“I found some new evidence on your wife’s murder,” he told me with proudly. I was still very shaken and hurt by the argument I had had with Molly and struggled to find words.

“What is it?” I asked lamely. After all these years of imagining new evidence being found and imaging how I would react, all I could say was “What is it?”

“I know I told you there was nothing more to be found, but I couldn’t give up. Something about it nagged at me. The woman in the photograph -- I had seen her before, and I couldn’t figure out from where. She’s a model. I must have seen her in a magazine. I did some digging, and she only recently became famous. Apparently she’s doing a photoshoot for Royale’s Fashion. She one of their newest, most popular models. I’ve spoken to the head of security at the photoshoot, and he owes me a favor. He promised to get us in. Can you meet me at my office?” I was speechless. After all this, the only evidence he had found was that he recognized the girl from the photograph? I sighed. I supposed any lead was still a lead, even if it was a small one.

“I’ll be there.” I said.

I went into the bedroom to get my suitcase and pack my things. I found Molly lying on the bed with her face in her pillow. She got up suddenly.  She had mascara running down her cheeks and looked exhausted. I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I’m leaving for a day or so, Molly. There’s been a break in the case.” I don’t know why I didn’t just apologize and tell her that I did care about her, but I felt numb. I had lost my wife, and I felt that I was going to lose Molly too.

“Victor, don’t you want to talk about this?” she asked with pleading eyes.

“We’ll talk about it some other time,” I replied tersely. Molly walked out of the room, and I was left alone to pack. My thoughts were all over the place. I resented Molly for changing her mind about marriage, I was angry with myself for hurting her, and I was eager to visit Detective Rider. Maybe all I needed was closure, I thought.

Detective Rider kindly put me up in the back room of his office for the night. It was certainly not luxury, but I was willing to sleep on the scratchy leather couch if we could finally make some headway. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Molly. I wondered why I wasn’t having trouble sleeping because I was thinking about the case or what we would find out or the possibility of finally getting closure on the murder of my Celeste. Molly stayed in my thoughts all night. I felt bad about the argument and wondered if I would ever truly be able to move on. I was once a man who believed in marriage. I wished I could be that man again for her. I cared about her deeply, but it was Celeste who I held sacred; she was the only woman who could be my wife in my mind. I had put her on a pedestal, and poor Molly was far beneath it. No matter how I loved Molly, Celeste’s memory overpowered what I felt for her. Maybe I would always be the husband of a dead woman...

The next morning, Detective Rider woke me up from the little sleep I managed to get, and we went straight to the photoshoot for questioning. His friend, the head of security, let us into Ashley Crystal’s trailer. It was posh and feminine with lavender walls and a pink rug, and she was sitting staring at her perfect reflection in a lighted mirror.

“Ashley Crystal?” Detective Rider asked the beautiful blonde model. I had no doubt that she had changed her name to make it sound more glamorous.

“Yes, that’s me. I’m sorry, but I’m in the middle of a photoshoot, and I don’t give autographs,” she said with conceit. She clearly was not sorry, and we were clearly dealing with a diva.

“We’re not here for autographs, miss,” Detective Rider said seriously.

“Then what is it you need?” Ashley Crystal asked. “I’d like to have time to finish touching up my make up before the photoshoot starts again, so make it quick.”

“Do you recognize this photograph, miss?” Detective Rider asked, handing her the photograph of the woman kissing the man who looked like me.

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “This was from many years ago. One of my first photoshoots before I made it big.” She looked up at me and then back at the photographs. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t recognize you. It was so long ago, and I see so many faces these days,” she said with a bored yawn.

“Miss, are you aware, that this was not a photoshoot, but blackmail? Someone used these photographs to blackmail this man.”

Ashley Crystal began brushing her hair.

“That man is not me,” I said hoping to get her attention. “I’m Victor Westington. I was launching my campaign for governor, and someone used these photos to blackmail me and make everyone believe I was unfaithful to my wife.”

Ashley Crystal turned from the mirror and compared me to the photographs.

“Now that you mention it, this man doesn’t look exactly like you,” she said.

“Do you know this man? Or the man who arranged these photographs to be taken? My wife was killed because of these photographs,” I said, wanting so badly to get down on my knees and beg her for information.

Ashley Crystal stood up and actually looked sorry for me.

“Let’s see,” she said thinking. “The man who set up the shoot was some old man with gray hair. He was kind of heavy. He told me he was an agent...The other man -- the one that looks like you…I think his name was Garth or Garrett or something. He told me to call him sometime. I think he said he worked in some warehouse. Now if you don’t mind, I really need to get back to my make-up.”

I wanted to ask more questions, but Detective Rider insisted that we leave. He considered the questioning a success and told me that his friend in security had only given him a few minutes to talk to Ashley Crystal anyway. He dragged me out of her trailer, and we went back to his office.

When we got back to his office, I tried again to get some sleep. Detective Rider searched online for all of the warehouses in the area. When I inevitably couldn’t sleep, once again thinking about Molly, I came into his office and heard him talking on the phone asking if a Garth or a Garrett worked there. He apologized for taking the person’s time and hung up the phone with disappointment. Detective Rider spent the rest of the afternoon calling all the warehouses in the area. I just sat and watched. By 10:00 PM, Detective Rider was down to the last few warehouses. My heart sunk. It looked liked the lead had lead us nowhere. Suddenly, I heard him enthusiastically thank the person on the other line.

“We’ve found him,” he said.

The next morning, we went to the warehouse and found the imposter stocking the shelves. His name was Garrett. He looked nothing like me. He had long, shaggy black hair and pale skin, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he was actually a hardened criminal.

“Are you Garrett Ward?” Detective Rider asked harshly.

“Yeah,” replied the man. “What’s it to ya?”

“I’m Detective Houston Rider,” he answered firmly. “Do you recognize this photograph?”

Detective Rider handed him the photograph, and the man smirked.

“Hey, it’s you,” he said pointing at the man in photograph and then at me.

“Stop playing games!” I said through gritted teeth. My blood was beginning to boil. This man had helped someone blackmail me and murder my wife. He made me sick. Detective Rider put a warning hand on my arm.

“Tell us what you know,” he demanded.

“Eh, this photograph was taken a long time ago. I might need something to refresh my memory,” he said grinning. I handed him some money.

“Yeah, I remember this. Some fat old guy took this photograph. Had something against someone. Said I looked ‘the part.’”

“Who was he?” I demanded, getting a stern glance from Detective Rider telling me to let him handle things.

Garrett scratched his head and turned back to the shelves and began stocking them again.

I handed him another several dollars. He turned around and signalled me to keep it coming. I handed him about $50 more, and he grinned despicably.

“He was some mayor...Handel or Hamm or Hilton or something…”

“Hamilton?!” I demanded with excitement.

He signalled me for more money, and I reluctantly handed over what I had left.

“Yeah, that’s the guy” he said as if it was no big deal.

I was angry. This man had helped Mayor Hamilton ruin my life. I clenched my fists.

“Do you know what you did to me?!” I demanded angrily.

“Hey man, it was just a job!” said Garrett.

“Just a job?!” I yelled. I wanted to punch him in the face. He may not have killed my wife, but he had helped the monster who had. Detective Rider held me back.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” he said insincerely to Garrett. Then he dragged me out the door as I seethed with rage.

“Can’t you at least have that scumbag arrested?” I asked Detective Rider when we were back in his office.

“We can’t prove that he knew the photograph was blackmail. We have no proof that he was working with Mayor Hamilton at all. He’ll say he had no idea what the mayor intended to do with the photograph. And we have no other charges against him. I looked at his records before I left. He’s a petty small-time criminal. No court would put him in jail.” Detective Rider answered.

I frowned. The man had clearly been despicable, but there was nothing we could do. We would get Mayor Hamilton, though…

I had never liked Mayor Hamilton. He was an arrogant, self-assured man who knew how to work the crowd and say all the right things and then never deliver. He held himself up as an example of righteousness, but rumors about his indiscretions followed him wherever he went. That didn’t stop people from electing him. He was the incumbent, and I was the new-comer. He spent much of his campaign attempting to smear my name instead of arguing his case. He was already extremely popular, so all he had to do was make me look bad. He had made accusations of all sorts, that I had had an illegitimate child, that I had committed fraud on account statements, even that I frequented a prostitution ring. But he had nothing to back his accusations up. He was clearly an unscrupulous man, but I never thought he’d sink to blackmail. I certainly never imagined he’d commit murder…

We found him in his mansion. Not only had he come from a very rich family, his political career had also been good to him. His mansion was an example of unadulterated extravagance. He had gorgeous chandeliers and a long, fancy dining room table. He even had his own bar and buffet table. I had no doubt that the wine above the bar was imported and aged. Nothing but the finest for him.

“Ah, Mr. Westington, I thought you had left town in shame. What can I do for you?” His mockery made me bristle with rage. Even with a detective and a police officer in the room, he was cool and collected.

“You killed my wife, you son of a bitch!” I shouted at him, barely able to restrain myself.

“What nonsense is this? You barge into my house and then accuse me of killing your wife?” Mayor Hamilton asked incredulously.

“Sir, we have a search warrant. Stand aside,” the policeman said firmly.

“Very well,” replied Mayor Hamilton. “You’ll find nothing.”

After a thorough search of the mansion, which took several hours, we were empty-handed.

“It would help if we knew what we were looking for,” Detective Rider said stroking his chin pensively.

“We have nothing,” the policeman said. “We have no evidence. There’s nothing we can do.”

“This man is a murder!” I shouted angrily. “There’s no way we can let him go free!”

“There’s nothing we can do,” repeated the policeman. I turned to Detective Rider appealingly.

“I’m afraid he’s right,” he said with a frown.

I sighed deeply. I had lost everything; my wife, my chance of bringing justice to her murderer, and I feared even Molly.

“I’ll call again if anything comes up,” Detective Rider said, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“If you don’t mind,” said Mayor Hamilton entering the room “I’d like to enjoy the rest of my evening.” He flashed a horrible grin at me, and I felt sick. He knew that I knew. He also knew that there was nothing I could do about it.

As I drove back home that night, I was surprised that Molly was on my mind. Of course my mind was racing with thoughts about the past few days, and of course I felt strong frustration that Mayor Hamilton had not been brought to justice, but my thoughts focused most on Molly. I wondered whether we could still be together.

I got my answer when I walked through the door and found Molly making out with Gavin on our couch. I felt sick. How could she do this to me? I cleared my throat. Molly looked up with a start. Gavin simply gave me a smug smile.

“How could you do this to me, Molly?” I demanded. I was furious, but I found that I was not angry with her. She may have done it to spite me, but I had hurt her badly a few days ago. I did not want to marry her, so she must have figured she’d move on.

“I’m leaving you, Victor.” Molly said standing up.

“But why?” I asked weakly.

“Gavin cares about me. He cares about Sandi. I deserve better than a man who’s still in love with his dead wife.” She had tears in her eyes, and her voice sounded so hurt.

“Molly, I love you,” I said hoping I could stop her.

“Too little, too late…” she replied. She went into the other room and returned with our son. He was crying as if he knew something was wrong. Then Gavin lead her and my son out of the house we had shared. It was over.

I was alone again. I sat on the floor and pitied myself. I had lost everything. I had lost both of the women I had loved. The first one was not my fault, but the second one had been entirely. I had not once stopped thinking about Celeste long enough to appreciate what I had with Molly. Now my son was gone too. I hated myself. I had ruined the life that I had struggled to rebuild for so long. I was furious with myself. I stared down at my wedding ring. I had never taken it off, even when I was with Molly. This made me even more furious. I pulled the ring off and threw it across the room. I had been stuck in the past for too long. I loved Molly now, and I needed to prove it to her, if only she would take me back...