The Bachelor's Bride

Chapter 22-Jack

Standing on the train platform as my beautiful wife and sister left without me was a painful thing to experience. I could hardly believe all of this was happening. Meredith of all people had gotten pregnant. I had wanted to write father and tell him the news, but after a few minutes of my sister's begging and crying, I promised not to tell him yet.

For now, Meredith would take her secret away to Etta's childhood home in Virginia. I would join them in the summertime, but that was still a good two months away.

My thoughts broke apart when I suddenly realized Etta was speaking to me, "....and Mrs. Littleton lives just down the hall if you need her, alright? There's a weeks worth of food in the refrigerator for you right now. You'll be okay without us?"

I brushed a piece of her loose hair behind her ear, my hand resting against her rosy cheek, "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

"Okay. Write me often." Etta rested her hand over mine, kissing me lightly on the lips before gathering her bags and following Meredith to the train. She turned and waved one last time before climbing aboard. I lifted my hand to her as the train pulled away from the station, leaving me by myself.

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰
One day later....

James and I had agreed to meet up at the police station early the next morning to show them the doorknob we had found. I looked around, waiting for James who was already ten minutes late.

The wind nipped at my skin and I tugged my coat closer. I had hoped the warmer weather would be upon us by now, but there was a still a mild chill in the air.

"Muller!" I heard James call as he rounded the corner. He strode up to me. "Sorry, I'm late."

"You have the doorknob?"

"Yeah."

He slipped it into my hands and we headed into the police station together. I approached the front desk, "Could we speak with the chief of this department?"

"Do you have something to report?" The officer asked, lazily sipping his coffee.

"We found something on the factory fire on South 21st street." I said, setting the doorknob on the desk.

The officer eyed the object curiously before nodding his approval, "He's in the back."

I thanked the man before walking through a long hallway and reaching a room in which the name plate read:

Timothy Keller
Chief of Police

I rapped on the door and a gruff voice replied, "Enter."

I eased the door open and stepped inside, "Mr. Keller, sir?"

"What do you need, son?" (A/N: son in this case is just an expression that was used back then when addressing younger men/boys. Jack is not his son. Sorry for any confusion haha. Read on.) Keller asked, riffling through a stack of papers on his desk.

Keller was an intimidating man, who appeared to be in his late fifties as evidence of his receding hair line. Despite his age, he was big and muscular. His hands themselves looked as if they could snap someone's neck in two if he wished to do so.

I set the doorknob on the desk, "I've been looking into the factory fire case. The one on South 21st street."

"Why?" He asked curiously, leaning back into his seat, folding his hands over his chest.

"My wife was in the fire. And I want whoever caused it to be found." I explained. "I'm also writing a story-"

"Ah, another journalist." He spat out in disgust. "What paper do you write for?"

"The New York Times." I answered proudly.

The man only narrowed his black eyes further, "Son, we don't do our work here to provide a juicy story for the local newspaper. We take our work seriously."

"I wasn't trying to imply-" I began to say, but I bit back my excuse my fingers clenching the back of the seat in front of me. "I'm trying to help because there is someone out there who tried to hurt my wife. Wouldn't you do the same?"

Keller studied me for a long moment before finally saying, "Why do you think this piece of junk is important."

I let out a sigh of relief, realizing he was going to give me a chance at proving this piece of evidence as important to the case, "Well, while taking statements from different eye witnesses for my story, I noticed that they all said something similar in each of their stories. All of the doors had been locked."

"Deliberately." James added in.

"Yes, it was deliberate. They all said the doors were typically kept open, but this time they had been closed and locked minutes before the fire had started." I explained further. I pointed at the lock, nothing I had Keller's full attention now. "This doorknob proves that their statements were true. The lock is still intact. And who is the only one who has the key?"

"Mr. Jeffers." James pointed out to Keller.

"And I think you should consider reopening the case." I said.

Keller sat there, trying to take in everything I had just told him. He began slowly nodding, "I'll consider it."

"You'll consider it?" I asked in confusion. I felt flustered at his vague response. "But I just have you all of the evidence and-"

"You do not tell me what I will or will not do." Keller stood up, towering over me. "It was a pleasure to meet you and hear your thoughts Mr....?"

"Jack Muller." I replied sourly.

"James Reagan."

"Mr. Muller. Mr. Reagan." He nodded to each of us. "As I said, I will consider what you have told me. And gentlemen?" He stopped us as we both made a move to leave. "Please make sure you close the door on your way out."

A/N
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