CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED and THIRTY-NINE
“Is Wretched angry?” Whitestone asked.
“Sad,” Seth said. “This entire thing is so sad. I spent an hour with your kids while they wept for their mother. They knew that she wasn’t cheating around. They knew what she was doing. You never asked them?”
“Never thought to,” Whitestone said. “They were kids.”
“It was different then,” Whitestone said. “When their mother died, they went to live with her people. I sent money every month. They grew up in California. I didn’t see them again until they were long grown.”
“A couple of them live here now,” Seth said.
“To be near their kids,” Whitestone said. “Not me. They didn’t move here for me. But I’ll tell you, I gave them all I had left from the ballroom — more than $100,000. Those kids went to college on that ballroom. Made good lives for themselves.”
“I bet they would have rather had their mother,” Seth said.
Whitestone’s head jerked up to look at him. Seeing no judgement in Seth’s eyes, Whitestone nodded.
“You’re probably right,” Whitestone said. “Truth of the matter is that I would have had a better life if I hadn’t. . . I spent my life boozing and. . . doing nothing. That ballroom was the best of me. I killed the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“That’s likely,” Seth said.
“What happens now?” Whitestone asked.
“Your kids are asking for compassionate release,” Seth said. “Because of the cancer. That’s really up to the judge.”
Seth looked at Whitestone for a long moment.
“Jeraine is planning on having concerts in the ballroom,” Seth said. “Over the Internet. They think that they can manage the airflow and keep people healthy.”
“That’s good thinking,” Whitestone said. “That boy is smart.”
“He is,” Seth said nodded.
He waited for a moment and then looked at Whitestone.
“Is there anything else I should add?” Seth asked.
Whitestone shook his head.
“I’ve been waiting for this day since the day I kill them,” Whitestone said. “In some ways, it’s a relief to be here.”
Seth nodded and got up.
“I’ll get this typed up and get it to you,” Seth said. “I’ll have it for your signature later today.”
“Thanks, O’Malley,” Whitestone said. “Big Daddy would be proud of you.”
Seth snorted a kind of laugh and left the room. He closed the door and stood behind it for a long moment.
He couldn’t help but feel sad. At the peak of his success, this man had killed his wife and destroyed his family because he believed a cruel liar. That man was long dead. Yet there sat the man who’d acted on the liars words. Whitestone would spend his last days on this earth in prison for acting on the lie.
Sighing, Seth left to go find someone who could help him type up this statement.
Denver Cereal continues on Monday...
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.