Jason
When I left Katie’s room, I was so angry I could have spit. I knew I had to get over it, that I had to just act like it wasn’t a big deal. I’d always thought Katie was kind of a pushover but after our incredibly bitter argument, I was starting to realize what a spitfire she actually was. Part of me was proud of her—in a way, I liked that she was standing up to me. The other part of me wanted to slap some sense into her, but I figured that after a while she’d calm down and things would be fine. After all, I didn’t want to stay angry with my wife. But she was acting like an ignorant bitch, and I wasn’t going to reward her bad behavior.
“Women,” Kenny mumbled as I sat back down on the couch with a stony face. “Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.”
“More like can’t live with ’em.” I smirked, reaching forward and grabbing an ice-cold beer. The feel of the chill bottle in my hand was soothing, like an old friend that I’d missed desperately.
“What happened?”
I shot Kenny a dirty look. “I ain’t getting into that shit right now,” I said. “I’ve got some errands to take care of.”
Kenny nodded. “I’ll keep an ear on her door,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about her trying to sneak off again.”
Just thinking about Katie sneaking out of the house again made my blood pressure skyrocket. “You’d better not let her go,” I warned with a snarl. “Or you’re gonna find out about what it takes to be a mechanic outside of the MC real quick.”
Kenny held up his hands in the air. “Hey, trust me, she ain’t going anywhere,”
I clapped him on the back. “Good man.”
Heading to my bedroom, I pulled on my leather jacket and a fresh pair of jeans. I had business to take care of it, and damned if I was going to do it looking like a slob. The shirt I was wearing had a streak of blood on the front from Troy and I was covered in grass stains and dirt from where I’d wrestled him down on the ground. Remembering the fight made the whole incident seem fresh again, like it had only happened a few seconds ago.
As I walked down the hallway, I thought about knocking on Katie’s door and telling her I was leaving. No, better not do that, I thought to myself. Better not get her riled up again. To my surprise, she was being very quiet—I’d half expected to hear her sobs filtering out into the hallway. But she was silent.
The drive to Rosa’s house took almost no time at all. I was nervous—half because I didn’t want to find out the truth about Margot, and half because I actually did. If Margot were still alive, that would change everything. My whole life would be different. I was dying to ask her why she’d faked her own death, what had happened to make her do that?
I would have made you happy forever, I thought, Margot’s face floating in my mind. If only you would have allowed me to do that, I would have always loved you. None of this fighting shit, none of this awful arguing.
“Hey, Jason,” Rosa said when I pulled into her driveway. “What can I do for you?”
I shook my head. “Hey,” I greeted her, leaning in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. Rosa smelled good, like yeast and honey, almost like she’d been baking bread. I took a deep breath as she showed me into her slightly messy kitchen.
“What can I do you for?” Rosa winked at me and I felt my body flood with familiarity and comfort. The longer I was away from Katie, the more my anger started to fade.
“I need you to help me find Margot’s death certificate,” I said slowly. “I did some recon work the other day, went to the hospital where her body was taken. And you know, they didn’t have any record of her body?”
Rosa shook her head. “I can’t say I’m surprised,” she said softly. “Yeah, give me a few minutes. I’ll look.”
I watched as she bustled around the kitchen, pulling out her laptop and clicking away frantically on the keyboard. Watching Rosa work was like nothing else I’d ever seen. To an outsider, she could have been writing a letter, updating a blog, anything that wasn’t of real importance, but I knew how sharp her mind was, how laser-like, how precise. She could have been hacking into a world bank or transferring hundreds of thousands of dollars into my account with the blink of an eye. Rosa was a true master, someone who was really useful. I made a mental note to make sure we stayed close.
“So it says here that Margot’s certificate was signed by a Dr. Jeffery Collins,” Rosa said softly. She turned her laptop towards me and pointed at the screen. “You see? He’s an older doctor,” she added, pulling up a browser and showing me a photo of a classy-looking private practice just outside of Marquette. Rosa gave me an odd look and I couldn’t tell if it was a smile or a frown. “And it looks like he recently came back from the brink of financial ruin,” she added softly. “It looks like he declared bankruptcy but then had it reversed, and then bought this swanky new office.”
My mouth went dry. “Oh my god,” I said. “So you think he forged it?”
Rosa let out a long sigh. “Jason, I know this is painful for you—”
“What do you think?” I commanded in a low voice. “Tell me, Rosa. I need to know I’m not crazy. I need to know I’m not alone here.”
“You’re not crazy,” Rosa said slowly. “But I don’t think you should jump to any conclusions, Jason.”
I rolled my eyes. “That time passed a long time ago,” I muttered. “Give me his address.”
Rosa blinked. “Who’s?”
“Dr. Collins’,” I said through gritted teeth. “I need to pay him a little visit.”
Rosa looked at me with soft eyes and a sad smile on her face. “Jason, you need to know that this isn’t going to change anything. I didn’t know Margot, and I can’t speak to why she did all of this, but you have to know that something is very wrong here.” She reached out and touched my hand. Her touch didn’t inspire any lust or desire in me, but there was something comforting about the feel of her skin. “You have to know Margot didn’t do this just to get you to chase her,” Rosa said. “Something else, something bad, must have happened.”
“I know,” I replied. “I know something bad must have happened, and I’m fuckin’ sick with worry over it. What if Margot was blackmailed into faking her own death? What if she was in danger?” My mind went spinning to all those bad places, all those foreign places where I’d lurked in the immediate days after her death. “What if someone was threatening her? What if someone hurt her?”
Rosa let out a soft sigh. “Jason, please don’t be angry with me,” she said slowly. “But I think it’s possible that Margot knew more than she let on. I think it’s possible that she orchestrated everything, you know? I mean, what reason would anyone have had to blackmail her?”
I shrugged. “That’s the hard part,” I admitted. “I don’t actually know.”
Rosa nodded. “You’re the head of a really powerful MC,” she added. “But that doesn’t mean Margot would be able to get any leverage out of your position.”
Her comment left my head spinning. I was starting to feel like this whole situation was a prank, a joke meant to confuse me and ruin my life. “I don’t get it,” I said again, raking a hand through my dark hair. “Margot loved me. She agreed to marry me. And then this? Why? Someone must have put her up to it.”
Rosa shrugged. “People change, Jason,” she said softly. “People change for no reason, and sometimes they give you no warning. Margot could have had her eye on anything, and maybe she saw this as a chance to get out.”
I felt like my heart was breaking all over again. “But she didn’t have anything to get away from,” I protested hotly. “I loved her! She was happy with me!”
Rosa pursed her full lips. “I know,” she said sadly. “That’s why I’m hoping you’ll get the answers you deserve.”
She got up and printed a copy of Margot’s death certificate for me—I could barely look at it without feeling like I was going to cry all over again—and then made us some tea spiked with whiskey. I closed my eyes and knocked the whole mug back in one gulp. The alcohol felt good, soothing.
“Good luck,” Rosa said. She leaned in for a tight hug. “I know everything will work out in the end.” She gazed up at me and for a moment, I could see a flicker of something in her eyes. Attraction? Love? Desire? Whatever it was, I couldn’t tell. But I knew Rosa would always be a faithful, helping friend.
“Thank you,” I said into her hair, holding her tightly. “I needed that. Thank you so much.”
Rosa kissed me on the cheek. “You be safe,” she said softly. “I know everything’s going to be okay.”
I went home that night and got blackout drunk, passing out alone in my bedroom. Katie didn’t try to come in and I didn’t try to go see her. Kenny stayed in the living room all night, keeping watch like a faithful friend.
In the morning, I got ready and left to go see Dr. Collins. His office was even bigger than it had looked in the photos, just outside of Marquette. It was in a brick building that had been painted white with a glass and metal awning—kind of futuristic but also classic. In the lobby, everything was white—the furniture, the walls, the carpet, even the secretary was wearing a white dress.
“Hi,” she chirped, a girl no older than Mickie, the hospital clerk. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Here’s the thing, Cassandra,” I said, leaning down to look at the nameplate on her desk. “I don’t have one, but it’s very important that I see Dr. Collins right now. How do you feel about that?” I winked at her, trying to work my charm. I could feel Margot’s death certificate in my pocket, burning a brand on my skin.
“Um,” Cassandra said. “I don’t exactly know.” She pressed a button on the intercom. “Hello, Dr. Collins?”
A deep, sonorous voice came back at us. “I’m with a patient right now, Cassandra,” he said in a tired-sounding voice. “I don’t have time for any walk-ins today.”
Cassandra looked at me with an apologetic smile. “Stay right there,” she told me, pointing to a couch in the waiting room. “I’ll go check on him. He gets a little cranky in the afternoons.”
I rolled my eyes; it sounded like she was talking about a baby instead of a full grown man. But I sat my ass down and flipped through a magazine. My whole body was tense and I wasn’t even looking down at the pages. My leg kept shaking and I realized I was making the whole couch lift off the ground with my tension.
“Sir?” Cassandra’s voice called. “Um, what was your name again? I don’t exactly remember it…”
“That’s because I didn’t tell you,” I said, standing up off the couch and walking back into the hallway. Cassandra was standing in the doorway of an office with the door open. “Is this Dr. Collins?”
Cassandra swallowed hard. “Yes,” she said softly.
I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently moved her out of the way. “This won’t take long,” I said. “I promise.” I winked at her—she was flushed and stammering—before slamming the door shut and taking my first look at the man who had helped my fiancée fake her death.
Dr. Collins was an older man, with a bald head and a crisp white coat. He looked panicked, but I could tell he was trying not to show me that. His desk was covered with bonsai plants and soothing sand gardens, but his face was splotchy and red with unease.
“What can I do for you, young man?”
I licked my lips and pulled Margot’s death certificate out of my pocket. “We need to talk about this,” I said as I smoothed it over his desk. “You faked this woman’s death. Why?”
Dr. Collins shook his head. “I’d never do that,” he said, backing away from me and gazing up with fearful eyes. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to find out what happened,” I said in a deadly soft voice, advancing on the old man. I had a good two feet on him and I could tell it wouldn’t be much of a fight; even though he wasn’t feeble, he was definitely too elderly to put up too much trouble.
“She died,” Dr. Collins said. “That’s all there is to it.” He almost looked relieved and proud of himself.
I flopped down into the white wicker chair in front of his desk. “No, she didn’t,” I said in the same low tone. “She didn’t die. I went to the hospital where her body was supposedly taken and they had no record of Margot George.”
The old man licked his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. He shrugged. “Mistakes happen, maybe it was a different hospital. You know papers get those details incorrect all the time,” he added.
“I don’t think that’s it,” I said softly. “I don’t think the paper fucked up at all. I think you were bribed.”
“I wasn’t,” the old man argued. “I wasn’t bribed. That young lady was the victim of a stabbing.”
“Ha!” I crowed. “She wasn’t. She was in a fucking car accident, asshole. That’s how she died. Or rather, that’s how she faked her death. I know she’s still alive. I know she is. Now tell me the fucking truth,” I added in a dark tone as I pulled a gun out of my pocket and cocked the trigger, pointing it at Dr. Collins’s head. “Tell me or I’ll fucking kill you right now.”
“All right, all right,” Dr. Collins said in a shaky voice. He eased himself back down into his desk chair and looked up at me. “All right. That young woman, you’re right, she didn’t die. At least not then. There was a woman who paid me…a lot of money, you see, to forge this.”
I blinked. “You’re sure it was a woman?”
Dr. Collins nodded. “Positive,” he said in a shaky voice. “She was alone.”
“That’s not possible,” I scoffed. “I think you’re lying!” I shoved the barrel of the gun against Dr. Collins’s temple. “I think you’re full of shit, old man.”
“I’m not lying,” Dr. Collins said. He was sweating and shaking in his chair. “I swear it! She was alone.”
I let the gun drop. My phone was buzzing in my pocket. “Excuse me for a moment,” I said nastily as I reached for it and answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Jason?” Margot’s voice sounded just like it always had—clear and scratchy, but full of bells all the same.
I almost dropped the phone. There were so many things I wanted to ask her, so many things I wanted to say.
“Hello, Jason, we have Katharina,” Margot said before I could say anything else. “She’s at the Center Park Hotel. Room 714.”
And then she hung up before I could reply.