CHANCE ENCOUNTER

by ChicagoTunnelKid

“The wind of change is blowing” seemed an apt memory to Father. Prime Minister Harold MacMillan had said it back in 1960. It had blown once before for him, back when his life fell apart and everything was taken from him – his home, his honor, his career, and his marriage. It was blowing once again, and he would lose it all again – his home, his honor, his work, and his family. All for the love of a woman, a woman he hadn’t seen in over thirty years.

Father sat in a small jail cell, likely charged with murder. The tunnels would need a new leader as he would not be coming back. He knew the justice system in this city and how little justice figured into it. He could not speak on his own behalf without revealing information that would either get him deported or expose the tunnels and evict his family. Therefore, he would say nothing, and that would get him convicted.

‘The wreck of his memories’ was turning out to be too true. Margaret wrote the line in the personals, and he answered. He did not know why she did; she asked for him and he went. His only mistake was going to see his lawyer and friend, and her lawyer. He found him lying on the floor, dead. But the silent alarm he triggered brought police and they figured he had done the killing. Short and sweet, simple, tied with a bow and another case solved.

He had been sitting on his cot in the cell, and now his hip was giving him trouble. He stood with difficulty, and tried to take a few steps back and forth the length of the cell. He nearly fell as he started, but pressed on and gradually became a little steadier. They had taken his cane away from him as it could be used as a weapon. That made it even more important to exercise his hip to make sure he could walk. On the other hand, why bother? So he was bed ridden. What difference would it make in jail? It might actually be a blessing in shortening his sentence due to his death. He sat again on the cot, looking totally dejected.

That is when Catherine walked by and spied him sitting there. Who was more shocked, he couldn’t say. Their eyes met, and then he turned his back to her. She should get that message. At least she would get word to Vincent so he needn’t worry that he was in an accident or something. That might have been kinder to let him think. He sighed. He doubted he had seen the last of her. One thing he was learning about Catherine Chandler – she was no pushover.

She seemed determined to have a relationship with his son. Vincent seemed to want that, too. What the boy didn’t understand was a relationship, a true relationship, was not advisable. He had talked with Vincent over the years, and cautioned him about this. Vincent always wanted details, specifics about his caution. All he could tell him was based on his unique biochemistry, his reactions to extreme emotions were unpredictable. Factor in his strength and lethal claws, and that was nothing but a recipe for disaster. The look of sadness on Vincent’s face was one he would never forget. His heart ached for him, as Vincent wanted nothing more than to love and be loved.

Father admired Vincent’s courage for pursuing the relationship with Catherine despite the boundaries that must exist. If it weren’t for his desire to protect Catherine no matter the cost, Father would not have been so cool towards the relationship and Catherine. Actually, he rather liked her. She had a warm heart and was rebuilding her life with meaning. But he saw nothing but heartache and danger ahead.

Please, Catherine, he begged silently. Please, let this go. She would end up exposing him, and he would not have answers he could give.

He shifted his weight on the cot. His hip was bothering him again.

Catherine could hardly believe her eyes. What was Father doing locked up in the county jail? At least she could tell Vincent she found him, and he was alive. Right now, she had a deposition to complete.

It wasn’t until later that Catherine was able to make discreet inquiries about the person being held at the jail. Wisely, she gave no name, just looked at booking tickets around the time she thought he might have been brought in, and found a John Doe entry, right description. The charge startled her – murder.

She didn’t know Father all that well. He seemed to not approve of her. She wasn’t sure why. She had treated him with nothing but kindness. She thought it might be because of Vincent. Perhaps Father did not want him seeing a woman from Above. Maybe he was guilty of thinking of her as a rich, flighty woman who could never be in a sustained relationship. She could hardly blame him, as she had almost left for Providence until Vincent went missing. That experience showed her just how much Vincent meant to her. Leaving was no longer an option. Father would learn that in time.

How she would help Father, she wasn’t sure. She understood the risk he faced and why he chose silence. She hoped Vincent might know Father’s background to give her some clue about how to approach his case.

She felt pressure to not let Vincent down. He was so close to Father – the man who saved him, raised him, loved him as a son. When he told her Father was missing, she could see the worry etched in his face.

Please, Father, she prayed. Let me help, for Vincent’s sake. Whether he wanted her help or not, Father was going to get it and she would not let Vincent down.