Chapter Five

The funeral was held four days later. No body was ever found, the officers and dive team blaming it on the rapid current caused by the storm. As the funeral drew on, Jack was on one side of the headstone listening to the reverend say his final prayers as the Quinn family stood on the other. Josef's arm was slung across Elizabeth's heaving back as he choked back his own tears. The Quinn sisters each held a single rose waiting to throw it upon their sisters' empty grave. Each of Michaela's brother-in-laws had tears in their eyes as well. They all liked Michaela in their own special way and it hit them hard to hear of her death.

Completing his sermon the Reverend looked upon the mass of people outside of the cemetery and said his final words. "Earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless her and keep her, the Lord make his face to shine upon her and be gracious unto her and give her peace. Amen."

Stepping in front of the headstone Jack spoke aloud, "Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." Kissing his fingertips he placed them on top of the head stone then quietly walked away.

Sniffles were heard all around as the crowd started to disperse. One by one each of Michaela's sisters placed their rose at the foot of the tombstone. Maureen was the last to linger. "Robert and I talked it over. If it's a girl we're going to name her Michaela. I…I just wanted you know that. I love you, Michaela."

"Oh Josef," Elizabeth turned in his arms. "Our baby girl."

"Shhh…." He engulfed her in his arms. "It's going to be all right," he soothed.

"No, Josef. Nothing will ever be all right again."

"Come," Josef led her toward the car. "Let's go back to the house. Jack's going to need us."

Rebecca, Maureen, Claudette, and Marjorie gathered in a single hotel room, while their husbands went down to the dinning room to relax.

Silence engulfed the room like a blanket until Rebecca's soft voice came from the corner of the room. "Jack's struck her before."

All heads turned to Rebecca who was sitting in an overstuffed chair by the window. "Are you serious?" Claudette whispered. "How do you know?"

"Last summer when we were all at the Quinn family cottage. I saw the bruises on Michaela's back and forearm when I was changing into my swimming suit."

"That's why she didn't want to go swimming," Maureen remembered. "She said she had a headache and went up to bed. What did she say when you asked her about them?"

"She just said Jack was drunk and they were fighting and he got a little carried away," she remembered. "That it was nothing, and he's never done it again. She told me not to say anything. Ever since then I've never trusted him," Rebecca spoke low. "But, mother and father were so crazy about him."

"Every time I talked to Michaela she seemed so stressed," Maureen commented. "She called me the day before the accident to congratulate me about the baby, then suddenly she had to go. She always did that."

"He was keeping her prisoner in her own home." Marjorie got up moving across the room. "And she never said anything to anyone of us! Why! We could have helped her!"

"When I think back on it I feel so guilty," tears came to Rebecca's eyes. "She probably couldn't take it anymore. Why didn't I see it back then? It was her cry for help!"

"Why didn't any of us?" Maureen questioned.

"Wait a minute," Claudette held up her hand. "Michaela would never, ever commit suicide. What if Jack did this to her? What if he was driving, or…or cut the brakes or something in her car?"

"Would he do that?" Maureen asked.

Claudette sighed, "I don't know."

He seemed pretty shaken up at the funeral," Maureen remembered.

Marjorie spoke up, "It was probably just all an act."

"An act that we all fell for," Maureen stopped in the middle of the room looking at each of her sisters.

Rebecca climbed into bed next to John, and he pulled her into his embrace. "How are you holding up, huh?"

"I'm all right," she snuggled closer.

"It was a beautiful funeral," he rubbed her back. "And not a cloud in the sky."

"John," she lifted up. "If I tell you something you promise not to laugh?"

"I'd never laugh at you," he was serious.

"Please don't think of this as some ramblings of a woman that just lost her sister either."

"Becca," he lifted to meet her gaze. "What is it?"

"My sisters and I think Jack had something to do with Michaela's death."

"What?"

"John, there is something I never told you before."

"About Jack?" he guessed.

Rebecca shook her head. "Jack used to hit Michaela. And I believe it to be more than the one time I questioned her about it."

"Jack beat Michaela?" he was stunned.

Rebecca shook her head, fresh tears coming to her eyes. "And…and I didn't do anything to stop it."

"Are you sure about this," he sat up running his hand through his dark brown hair.

"I saw the bruises, they covered her back, John," Rebecca started crying openly now. "I…I should have said something right them. I should have insisted she come home with us that night at the cabin."

"Why didn't you tell me this before," he wondered. "I love Michaela like she's my own sister. I would have done everything within my power to help her."

"I don't know," Rebecca held her head in her hands. "I don't know!"

Wrapping his arms around his wife, John let a tear drip from his own eyes as well. "Do you honestly think that Jack would kill her?"

"I don't know, but what if Jack drove her to do it. What if she was so unhappy she couldn't take it anymore! John, what was she doing driving eighty miles an hour at one in the morning during a storm. That's not Michaela. Something drove her out of that house."

"Okay, calm down. Let's think about this." Rubbing his eyes he sat up in bed and shifted his pillows. "Do you honestly think that Michaela would commit suicide because to be honest I don't."

"In my heart I don't believe Michaela would do it either. Claudette thinks that Jack may have tampered with her car.

"Do you have any evidence of that?" John's lawyer side coming out.

"No, it's…it's just a feeling, a feeling that we all have," Rebecca tried to explain. "And I'm afraid that we're never going to prove it. Not without Michaela."

"Josef?" Elizabeth touched her husbands back. "Are you asleep?"

"Not yet," he turned. "Are you having a hard time getting to sleep? Do you want me to give you something?"

"No, it's not that. It's…it's Jack. He seems so cold, so distant."

"He just lost his wife."

"Oh Josef, being in this house seeing all of her things, it's almost too much."

"I know," he wrapped his arms around her. "I told Jack that he could come back with us to Boston for awhile, take a vacation. But, he seemed so adamant on staying. He's grieving in his own way. He loved Michaela very much."

"He did," Elizabeth agreed. "That's why I just can't fathom an idea of why she was out driving so late. That's just so not like her."

"Jack said she was having trouble sleeping."

"But why would she go driving to make herself tired? She's knows better," Elizabeth insisted.

"That's what I want to know," Josef shook his head. That's what I want to know."

Jack sat in the middle of his bedroom floor, pictures of Michaela spread around him. Picking up one photo at a time he studied it, and then placed it to his mouth gently kissing it. Taking a picture that was near his foot he picked it up, it was a picture of himself and Michaela swinging in a tire swing at the Quinn cabin. "Oh my darling, sweet, Michaela, what am I going to do with out you?"

Standing up Jack went to her dresser, opening one of the drawers he pulled out one of her shirts and bringing it to his nose he inhaled her scent. "You're everywhere around me, darling." Going to the closet Jack began to remove all of Michaela's clothes from their hangers, inhaling her scent. "You're all around me!" he shouted throwing her clothes to the ground. "All around me!" After ripping all of her clothes from their hangers to the floor be began to open each and every shoe box from the top shelf. Throwing them in a pile on the ground, his breath became heavy and deep as he scanned the closet.

Stepping over all of her clothes and shoes he made his way back into the room and went straight to her jewelry armoire. Opening the flip top he gazed down at all the diamonds and gems he bought her over the years. "And now," he seethed. "You can't even wear them!" Picking up the charms in handfuls he threw them at the wall. "So what good are they now! Damn it!"

"Damn it!" he said aloud. Falling to his knees Jack held his head in his hands. "Damn it, Michaela!"