The Escort

28 - The downward spiral

Michael threw up as soon as he set foot on the sidewalk. His suit jacket's inner pocket wouldn't stop vibrating and he knew it was most probably his family.

By then, they must have learned about what happened, and his heart ached with anguish as he couldn't begin to imagine the state his mother was in.

He decided not to answer, he wasn't strong enough to deal with it, so he stumbled mindlessly into his car, rested his head on the steering wheel and cried.

***
"There's something that just doesn't add up, Tom," Bill complained looking out his friend's office window. He kept going over the events in his head, again and again, and he always reached the same conclusion: Jermaine wouldn't have done it. He would've never committed suicide.

"I tell you, Bill, Lt. Moore and his guys went to pick him up from his cell for questioning and found him hangin' from the ceiling with the bed sheet tied around his neck."

Bray shook his head in strong disbelief. "No note, no nothing? Wouldn't even fight his case? He could've negotiated with the DA, he had tons of information."

"That's true, but then again, what else could've happened?"

Bill chewed on his bottom lip in deep thought, when suddenly something clicked in his mind. He had heard the name Moore before.

"Tom please, hand me the Carangi case files again."

***
"We're off the hook, Juliette. Stop panicking." Günther smirked as he amusedly watched his associate pacing in front of him. She was frantically going over everything, trying to find any loose ends.

"They were too close, Günther. Too damn close. We need to take care of Mesereau. Most importantly, we need to bring Laura back. I don't think Jackson will be causing any more trouble after what happened."

"Leave that little bitch to me, I'll be draggin' her back very soon. As for your protege, she's flying to Milan for the fashion week. Chuckie escorted her to the plane and she boarded safely."

Juliette nodded, looking much more gathered, her eyes burning with the usual rigid and heartless attitude. "Get that little bitch back. Yesterday."

***
"C'mon baby, pick up... Pick up... Dammit!"

Laura hung up the phone once again, feeling increasingly nervous. Why wasn't Michael answering? He had left in a hurry very early that day but didn't say where. He didn't say who called him either.

She decided to try his office, maybe he had to take care of some urgent matter, but his secretary Sally assured her that Mr. Jackson hadn't been there.

The last place she could think of was Janet's studio. She took a close look at the calendar that hung on the fridge's door to be certain of the date and confirmed her suspicions. She knew Joshua had a gig there that afternoon, so after dialing Jensen's number, she hurried to bring her cellphone to her ear.

"Hey, Kitten! How u doing?"

"Hi Jens, I'm sorry to bother you, you're probably at the set right now, right?"

"Oh, you remembered! But we're actually leaving, the shoot has been canceled. I'm deeply sorry about what happened by the way. How is Michael doing?"

Laura furrowed her eyebrows, confused. "What do you mean? What happened?"

After a few seconds of silence, her friend continued in a hushed voice, clearly trying to avoid being heard. "Kitten, you don't know? One of their brothers passed today."

"Wait, wait... What? I-it cannot be, I mean... Which brother?"

"Baby, which brother was it?" Jensen removed the phone from his ear and asked his fiancee before confidently answering. "Jermaine."

Laura's jaw dropped and her vision got blurry, she felt cold sweat and chills. She was having a mild anxiety attack. "When... Today? How...

"Yeah, apparently it happened this morning, but Janet got the news fifteen minutes ago."

Her mind was foggy, her heart racing, she could feel her erratic pulse in her ears as her blood boiled, and a dark, strongly negative feeling consumed her.

She was furious.

She knew there was no way in hell Juliette wasn't involved and she needed to confront her about it, she honestly didn't give a damn about the outcome anymore. She was tired of causing pain and suffering to the only person she considered to deserve heaven.

He deserved better.

The only thing she was certain about was that she had nothing to lose, and she wasn't gonna let Michael lose everything.

"Laura? U still there?"

"I've gotta go." She hung up, shoved the phone in her jeans' back pocket and quickly rushed out of the house.

***
"I knew I had read it somewhere, Tom, look! It's all over these files!" Bill slid the folder across the desk for Tom to read and watched him intently.

After taking notice of his friend's observation, Mesereau took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. "Bill, he's one of my best guys... This could be a coincidence."

"It's no damn coincidence! Moore was Captain Keenan's right-hand man! He was assigned to the detail that surveyed La Maison after Carangi's claims. He was the first to arrive at the scene of Alessandro Carangi's death, he was the only cop allowed to testify when they closed Le Bon's case, the one that said nothing out of the ordinary was happening at Florence! Don't u see it?"

The police captain shook his head and folded his arms over his desk. "Bill, my friend... Are you implying that my Lieutenant operates for a prostitution network that employs underage girls, that he's involved in a homicide case cover-up and in the murder of a prisoner?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Bray sentenced with a stern expression.
His old friend leaned back in his chair and sighed. He knew Bill was almost never wrong. They had been partners for years and every single case they cracked, they cracked because of Bill's incredible skills.

He couldn't ignore him.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ... Okay... Let's look into it."

***
A silver Mercedes parked in front of Joseph Jackson's opulent estate. Michael climbed down with a disarrayed look and striking determination in his pitch-black eyes. He busted in without announcing his presence and hastily walked across the massive main hall to his father's study.

He rummaged through the cabinets and shelves, throwing almost everything to the ground. Soon enough the floor was covered with books, notes, adornments and framed photos.

Alerted by the strange noises he was hearing from his seat in the living room, Joseph made his way to his office to find out what was going on, and his small eyes ignited with rage at the sight of his most problematic son going through his things.

"YOU! You little son of a bitch!" He growled, but Michael paid no mind to him and resolutely continued his frantic search.

"What the hell are you doing in my house! You should be ashamed of yourself, you should be praying for God's forgiveness after the pain you brought to my motherfuckin' family! Your brother's dead because you chose a disgusting hooker over him!"

Only then his son glared at him, biting his tongue before crouching to search the lower closets, next to the safe.

"Michael what the fuck are you doing here! Leave my house this instant! I don't want your mother to see your miserable ass!"

The young man finally stood up, holding a wooden box with silver ornaments in his hands. Joseph's eyes widened and he took a step backward. "W-what are you doing?"

Michael placed the box carefully on the desk and opened it. Then he moved his dead eyes from it to his breathless father. "I'm fuckin' ending this shit, Joseph."

He grabbed the gun from the box and put it behind his back in his pants, covering it with his suit's jacket before storming out, leaving a shaky and pale Joseph standing by the door.