Chapter Ten

This chapter is a little bit of a sidetrack, but it'll be worth it, I promise.

He had arrived in Toronto shortly after hearing about Jake's death. He had wanted to be here for the funeral, but there was too much press around it after they learned that the esteemed author Eli Goldsworthy had been added to the mix.

The last thing he needed was press. He had enough of that for one lifetime.

He knew that when he arrived to see his Uncle, he wouldn't be too happy to see him. He was the side of the family that people liked not to talk about. The family member they like to pretend didn't exist.

He did exist.

And now he was going to make sure that they would never forget his name ever again.

He approached the door to his Uncle Glen's house cautiously. He was almost afraid that they'd set some kind of trap for him, but he knew that was just paranoia speaking. He'd been in jail too long not to feel suspicious about anything and everything.

He banged on the door three times.

Glen answered the door, an angry retort just about to muttered before he glanced upwards and his jaw dropped slightly.

"Hello, Uncle."

"Kyle? You're... I thought you were in jail?"

Kyle Martin's lips curled into a smirk. "Released on good behavior."

Glen gulped. He was clearly nervous, and not at all pleased to see him.

"I'm here to talk about Jake." Kyle stated, breaking the small silence. "I heard that Clare had something to do with his death. May I come in?"

Before Glen could give him permission to enter the home, he barged passed him into the living room. He was bigger than Glen was and the older man wouldn't dare fight someone nearly twice his size. Glen merely closed the door and followed him into the living room.

"She had an affair." Glen began as he lowered himself onto the couch. "Jake found out about it and as he lunged for the other man, Clare shot him." Glen closed his eyes for a moment, his son's death a still fresh wound.

"They said he had a gun." Kyle said, sitting in the chair opposite. "Did he plan on killing the other guy?"

"Clare claims he did. That's why she shot him."

Kyle let this silence stretch out longer than the previous one before barely snarling, "My cousin deserves justice."

Glen looked up, blinking. "Clare.. She must have had some reason for doing this, Kyle. I don't blame her. I mean, I'd like to, but it can't be changed."

Kyle's eye narrowed. "You're going to press charges against her."

Glen shook his head; not realizing that what Kyle said wasn't a question. "No. She's had enough bad press. They're already comparing this to one of Goldsworthy's novels."

Kyle shook his head, slamming his fist on the coffee table. "IT WAS NOT A QUESTION!"

Glen jumped nervously. "Kyle, c-calm down. Let's talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about." Kyle snarled, standing up. "That bitch needs to be brought to justice for what she did to my cousin. To my best friend. He was the best man at my wedding. I was the best man at his. He deserves more than to be just shot and forgotten while Clare gets away scotch free. Jake wouldn't want that."

"Jake also had anger problems!" Glen spat angrily. "Clare has evidence of years of abuse! Bringing her to court would be useless, Kyle!"

"She deserved it." Kyle said vehemently. "She gave him nothing but hell!"

The moment that Kyle had said she deserved it; Glen shook his head. "No one deserves that, Kyle. I don't care what you did." He reached for the phone. "Now please, Kyle. Leave. Before I have to call the police."

Click.

Glen turned and realized he was staring down the muzzle of a gun.

"You are going to press charges against Clare." Kyle snapped. "Or I'll blow your brain all over your own wall."

Glen raised his hands in surrender, nodding once. "Okay, Kyle. Okay."

Kyle's expression relaxed, but the gun remained trained on Glen. "Call Helen. Now. Tell her to warn Clare."

Glen slowly picked up the phone. "Warn her to do what?" He asked, dialing the number just as slowly as he had picked it up.

"Tell her that you're planning on pressing charges and that she should get herself a lawyer as soon as possible."

Glen nodding and hit dial. Content that the older man wasn't going to call the police, Kyle retreated back to the chair he had been sitting at but kept the gun still trained on Glen. Once the call was finished, Glen placed the phone down. "She's calling Clare right now. She's quite upset that I'm doing this. She said it wasn't like me to do this."

"Where's the evidence that you mentioned earlier?" Kyle asked, ignoring the nervous ramble.

"I-I don't know." Glen stuttered. "I'm sure it's with Clare somewhere."

"Why do you know about it? How do you know about it?"

Glen thought for a moment. Should he lie? Could he protect Clare that way? She had, at one time, been his stepdaughter. He cared about her. Not as much as his son, of course, but his son was in need of protecting.

Lying to man with a gun is always a bad idea.

Fearing he might grow impatient, Glen finally spoke. "She called me one night after a rather bad beating. She said she didn't know who else to call that might be able to do something. Or she was trying to blackmail me, I can't tell. I listened to her story on how Jake nearly beat her to death and that she'd been taking pictures of it for a long time. He'd go to jail for certain if these photos got out. It would completely ruin his reputation and he would lose his job if he didn't keep his temper under control. She asked me for help. She asked me to talk to him about it, and I did. I saw that his knuckles were skinned very badly and told him that he needed to stop and think about his career. It worked, albeit for a short time."

Kyle nodded slowly, absorbing the details. "So you knew he was beating her and didn't say anything?"

Glen nodded once, eyes downcast. His eyes looked watery.

"I'm going to pay Helen a vist." Kyle explained as he got up and made his way for the door. "Perhaps she knows where Clare hid that evidence."

"W-What do you plan on doing?" Glen asked, hoping to stall him. "I've got to hire a lawyer and..and.."

Kyle glanced over his shoulders. "You keep working on that."

He opened the door and slammed it shut.