Generation Two — Chapter Ten: The Case Against Braylon

Ayden sprang out of bed the next morning, full of resolve. He had no other choice. He either followed the clues to exonerate his brother or to have him convicted for the brutal, unforgivable murder of Jade. He couldn’t go on pretending all was well, or would be with Time.

So, pulling on his clothes, he went out to his car. Very carefully he inspected the trunk. The lock was undamaged. No hint of tampering. Good. Inside, the gas can was just where he’d left it a few months ago upon their return from that ill-fated campout. Once at work, he would take his first break to dust for fingerprints.  He expected at least three sets, his, Jade’s and Braylon’s — or, none at all. 

If his brother was worth just half of his salt, he would have wiped the can clean. But, given the circumstances, in which Braylon had made himself scarce during the incident, it was possible he didn’t have time to clean up after his misdeed. Once the authorities were finished with the scene and his dear wife’s body carted off, Ayden couldn’t wait to leave that place. As it stood, now, he would likely never return. So, unless Braylon had cleaned up the can after he finally came home … the lack of tampering suggested no. Ayden couldn’t perceive why the prints, or lack thereof, would be disturbed in any way. Since he kept his keys locked up in his safe along with this service weapon, that left Braylon without access.  

Nathaniel was getting to an age, too, where ‘borrowing’ his Dad’s car for a joyride might be fun. Twelve years going on eighty, he could be a handful, to be sure. Ayden had ‘borrowed’ Erik’s car, after all, and sometimes the nut didn’t fall too far from the tree. Nathaniel was very much like Ayden.  Therefore, unless Braylon was an expert at safe-cracking, he didn’t have access to Ayden’s keys, either.  Nobody did, but him. And while his father goofed around, pulling his ghostly pranks, he rarely possessed anything to simply break it. Nor would he be inclined to take keys. Ayden took his own car to work, which would leave Braylon access at night, only. There was simply no damage whatsoever to the trunk’s lock. No scratches anywhere.

Or — Ayden was completely wrong. He hoped and he prayed he was wrong. That the accident was simply that. A horrid, terrible, fatal accident, but only an accident and nothing at all sinister.

Lieutenant Ayden Cantrell got to work straightaway, arriving at the precinct exactly on time. 

“Hey, Jovan, Bobbi, good morning!”

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” they said.

“Ayden, you’re in a good mood,” Bobbi said, winking at him, as she handed him a coffee.

“Thank you, Bobbi,” he held up the to-go cup at her and nodded. “It’s funny how a good night’s sleep affects the temperament.”

“Well, whatever it is, Sir, it’s nice to see you smile again.” With that, she turned on her uniform boot heel and got to work, her dark pony tail bouncing as she walked.  

Ayden went to the computer and got another case file. After doing the preliminary cross-data checks, he created a map on the board. Then, he got the equipment needed, and headed to the crime scene. Once he was back, he decided he would dust for prints on the gas can in his own trunk. Then along with the other evidence he anticipated gathering at the new crime scene, he’d also process whatever he got from his gas can. And if he got nothing, then that would be that. End of story. And he’d cease to berate his younger brother at every turn. Do his best to put the family back together.

Should he find the suspected prints, he would take his situation to the Chief. If she agreed he had just cause, he’d go ahead and call for a full-blown investigation into one Braylon Cantrell.

The crime scene took longer than he’d anticipated. By the time he got back to the station, he was consumed with hunger. He did take the time to snap pictures of his car, the trunk lid, the bumper, the lock and finally the gas can in his trunk. Then he applied a liberal amount of dust to the red can of gas, and to his dismay, he lifted several prints that needed to be sorted. He had his own on file, as all the officers did, and he had access to Jade’s and Braylon’s through their driver’s licences. 

Ayden’s legs grew wobbly. Was his very own brother truly guilty of such a heinous crime? He had another cup of coffee, which oddly, served to stabilize his now shaky self, besides stave off the hunger pangs long enough for him to run the prints found, through the analyzer. He fed in the digital photos and heard the beep. On the monitor screen, the match flashed, blinking its green light at him. On off, on off, on off. The image would forever be burnt into his retina, his mind and his broken heart. Braylon’s prints were clearly seen, both on the can’s handle and on the sides of the red canister. There was no mistaking it.

Grief swept over him. Swallowing hard, he steeled himself and then headed upstairs to the break room for a bite to eat. He no longer really felt hunger, but it was a good ruse to take a moment for himself. After he’d nabbed the last tuna sandwich — he thought it was tuna, anyway, he brought his plate downstairs. Time to have that unsavory, unwanted chat with his chief.

“Do you really think he’s guilty, Ayden?” the chief said, an enormous amount of empathy in her voice. “Your own brother? But, why?”

“It gives me no pleasure, Chief, but yes, I do think he murdered my wife by switching the normal lighter fluid for the gasoline. Jade wouldn’t have known the difference.”

“How could he do that without you noticing?” 

“He was always coming and going from the camp site.  We had an argument, just after he grilled burgers for us. He took off.  I hit the sack a few minutes after he left. I never saw him return. Had I known —” Ayden drew in a ragged breath. “I had no reason to suspect anything. I honestly thought I was the one in some kind of trouble.”

“Ayden,” the chief put a hand on his arm. “Lieutenant Cantrell, you’re one of our best, why would you think you were in trouble?”

“That ongoing investigation, for one.” 

The Chief gave a wry smile and waved at the air, “Oh, that. You were never the focus or the person of interest. We actually suspected your brother, truth be told. The Mobwives have moved into our quaint seaside town and it’s unsettled the town’s counsel. Now, you’ve just handed him over to us. Good job, as always, Lieutenant. We’ll take it from here. And thank you.”

Ayden was sick to his stomach. Advised to say nothing at all to his brother, he knew he had to at least tell his father. Choosing the right moment was hard. All of this time, Erik was well aware of the friction, the outright tension between his sons. One night, it nearly came to blows. Erik tried his best to talk to Braylon, to help smooth things over. Now, Ayden had to tell Erik his second son and youngest child was going to be arrested for a whole host of crimes, not the least of which was murder. 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Ayden said. “I didn’t know what else to do. You know I haven’t been sleeping. I’m ripped to pieces over this. I miss my wife … sometimes I can’t breathe. Realizing my brother had anything at all to do with her untimely death. Her ‘accident’ sickens me. Knowing what it does to you breaks what’s left of my heart into fragments. I didn’t want this …”

“Ayden,” Erik echoed. “I chose you as my heir for a reason. You are not your brother’s keeper, nor can you change who he is. I’m the one who screwed up. Something I did or didn’t do. I let him down. I let your sister down, too. She never did marry. Never trusted any man with her heart. That’s my fault, too. I should have stayed a Rock Star and left the family rearing to those more competent.” 

   Ayden stood up. “Dad, stop it. You loved us. You loved Mom — we all love you, too. That should have been more than enough. You did your best. And, you came back. That’s not an easy thing to do.”

In the weeks that followed, Braylon was arrested and arraigned.  Bail was withheld, as he was deemed a flight risk. Also, it was likely the Mobwives would put a hit out on him. A few months after that, Braylon went on trial. In the meantime, Nathaniel had a birthday. He was finally a teen. Tall, like the rest of the Cantrell men, he looked far older than thirteen. 

Ayden threw a small party for him. He worked especially hard on his relationship with his oldest son, worried that since he really loved his uncle Braylon and the two got on so well, that Ayden’s thug of a brother would have an untoward effect on the boy.                                                           

     Finally, the trial was over. To everyone’s chagrin, Braylon was found guilty of facilitating the demise of the victim, Jade Cantrell. He was given life. Ayden packed up his brother’s belongings and sold them. He wanted nothing more to do with the man.

Almost as if she knew, Jade appeared to Ayden one night when he was visiting The Blue Velvet Lounge. She’d appeared to him before, so he wasn’t terribly startled. Taking her aside, he let her know that Braylon was found guilty of arranging for her mishap with the grill and was put away for life. 

“You’re free,” Ayden said. “You don’t have to roam the Earth anymore.”  

“Are you sending me away, Ayden?” she said, looking sad. “Share your pictures of the boys again, please?”

Ayden whipped out his cell and with the flick of a finger had the photos called up. She gazed at them and then he hugged her tight. When he got home, he was going to have to free her soul to the netherlands, so she would really, finally be at peace.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too.”

                                                           

Generation Two — Chapter Nine: Death Continues To Plague The Willow Creek Police Department …

Ayden folded the newspaper in half, flipped it over and set it aside. The headline said it all. What happened was extraordinary. Disturbing. First, two of their prisoners expired at the very same moment, falling together in a heap on the jail cell floor, while a third inmate looked on. 

Shortly thereafter, two officers, outside the building, fell to the cement walkway, in eternal sleep. Later on, a third officer, their Receptionist, Kaylen Jackson, joined them on the sidewalk, presumably to pay her respects, when she suddenly fell dead, too.

 Ayden was more than a little shaken up. Months had passed since Jade succumbed to her burns, and his life was just starting to get back on track. He even accepted an invitation to join the Partihaus Club, Jade had belonged to.

Bobbi was back to flirting with him again, too. Thinking he was going to have to give her a second look, he tried to flirt back and engage her in conversation. Sadly, all too quickly it turned awkward. Maybe not such a good idea, after all. Best he look outside of the force, lest they become fodder for all of the ‘office romance’ gossip going on all too often. 

    

  And then this happens. Ayden pressed the heels of his hands into his tired, bloodshot brown eyes. What bothered him the most, was how and why this kept happening — So very many police officers or police support dying right here at the precinct. Six to date.  

This was beyond weird. Taking to the computer at work, Ayden scoured the internet, the police data files and anywhere else he could think of. Was this merely coincidence, since all of those deceased were elderly — or was it something more? Something sinister. The latest three police had perished on the walkway outside the building. Drive-by? Or, did the Mobwives have an insider, silently destroying the Willow Creek Police Department?

What about the two prisoners? How did they fit into this?

Ayden slammed his open palm onto the desktop, startling several of his co-workers. “Informant!” he said. “That’s it. That has to be it.” He immediately did a search on the two prisoners, to see if they were witnesses in lock-up, simply to keep them ‘safe’ before the trial and if that trial had anything to do with the Mobwives. Wouldn’t be the first time police kept witnesses in custody. Although normally they were kept in a ‘Safe House’. Ayden shook his head in dismay. They had failed these two people, miserably, if this were the case. He felt more than lousy over it.  Again, he felt impotent. Unable to be of use.

Was the ‘insider’ the other jailbird who watched as the two perished before his eyes? Ayden found himself riddled with questions for which he had no answers. Not a comfortable or desirous place to be.  

And, just what to do about his brother — Was he possibly the tie-in? Had he been spying on Ayden all of this time? Talk about an insider … the very thought chilled him to the bone. Perhaps, this uncomfortable association is what prompted the very long investigation into his own dealings by the Department. Why hadn’t they just asked him outright? Or, maybe, just maybe Ayden wasn’t the subject of this investigation, after all. He may well have been the bait. By which they hoped to draw Braylon out. 

Ayden’s head began to hurt. Another tension headache, he was certain. Had his brother really murdered Jade?  For the longest time he refused to allow himself to explore this possibility, let alone question why.  She must have learned Braylon belonged to the Mobwives sometime between their conversation and her dying moment. Braylon had to be the one to tell her. Ayden always thought he was lying through his teeth about being a criminal. Braylon was such a jokester. Now, he wished he had listened to that little voice of doubt deep inside himself. The detective within nagging him that something just wasn’t right, here. Braylon worked at night, was evasive, was quick to deflect and distract anytime anyone pressed for any real details about his line of work. Quick to squelch any real inquiries into it. 

Jade always took it to be a joke, too. A big fat lie. They used to laugh about it

Somehow, Braylon must have impressed on her it was no joke, but indeed, a fact he worked for them. Somehow, he’d slipped up, breached the code of silence. Then, fearing retaliation, since the Mobwives was such a secretive group, he must have scrambled to find a way to rid himself of his only witness. The obvious thing was a fatal accident. A fire. So, he switched out the canister of lighter fluid for Ayden’s spare gas tank. Jade would hardly know the difference …

Folding his arms on the desktop, Ayden leaned his weary head on them. Was he crazy to allow himself to think this way? Had he unwittingly stumbled upon a truth — Or, was this a manifestation of a grieving mind and heart, needing answers where none could be found?

Ayden got home after a full day’s work. No time to confront his brother as he knew he needed to do, the man, dressed in a suit, was on his way to work. 

“Hey, Bray—”

“Hey, no time for chatter,” Braylon doffed his hat, pretended to consult the non-existent pocket watch, “Oh, my fur and whiskers, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!” Twirling himself about on his highly polished dress boot heels, he was off. 

Ayden watched as his brother disappeared down the block, shaking his head. He was a funny guy. Quite humorous. Needing the distraction, he decided to collect the wild fruits, vegetables and flowers, instead of stewing over it, keeping up with the ‘family’ tradition.  Busy work. Never hurt to have some extra funds on hand. He also hoped to still his rapid-fire thoughts for a time. 

Before it grew too late, his father enticed him to go out. A friend had texted the ghost and invited him out for “Knight’s Night” at a place in Windenburg. Ayden readily agreed, but they took off so fast, he didn’t have time to change out of his work clothes. In fact, he barely had a chance to take a bite of his dinner. He took his plate with him.

The young bar tender, a Morgan Fryes, was a real looker. Beautiful red hair, large blue eyes, a sweet face. Incredibly young … He chatted her up. He’d had quite an awkward conversation with Bobbi earlier in the day, Ayden was afraid he’d lost his touch. It had been a few years since he was on the dating scene. Didn’t expect to be here again, nor did he want to be. But, he was lonely and his friends suggested he get back into the proverbial saddle. And so, taking advantage of this occasion, he invited the young lady to dance. Pretty soon, his day caught up to him. He bid Morgan goodbye and went home.

Generation Two—Chapter Eight: It Wasn't Supposed To Be Like This

     Ayden sat at his desk, nearly paralyzed with grief. The last thing he truly remembered about their campout was the boys bickering, horribly.  Next thing he knew, Jade, who was about to grill up breakfast for them all, was screaming. A horrible, heart-wrenching shriek. Trying to break up the boys, who were on the verge of a royal fist-a-cuffs, he glanced over and saw the huge, roaring, already out-of-control fire.

She must have used too much lighter fluid, was his first thought. The flames shot out from underneath the barbecue grill, licking at her arms, as if it were alive. A beast wanting only to be fed. Wanting to eat his beautiful wife. Jade busily swatted at them, to no avail. Next thing Ayden knew, her clothes caught fire, too. A veritable forest of fire surrounded her, she couldn’t move, nor could he get to her. She kept screaming. And he just stood there as if his feet were suddenly rooted to the ground. Powerless. Impotent. Useless.  So much for all of his training.

Curiously, Braylon wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

At last, Ayden grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed for help. By the time the park rangers, firefighters, and paramedics got there, Jade was barely conscious. Ayden knelt down on the ground cradling her in his lap. Her lips kept moving. He bent over her to hear her last words. “Mobwives,” she whispered.

“Hm, what? Jade, what about the mobwives?”

“Bray…lon.” Her last word was more of a gasp. And then he felt the life force lift from her. She was gone. Her eyes staring at nothing. Ayden confronted the Grim Reaper, whom he’d seen many times before. He pleaded, he wept. His cries fell on deaf ears. Jade was gone. She wasn’t coming back.  

Jade’s skin was as black as burnt toast. Crispy. Gone was the elasticity in it. It had to hurt her even to speak. But, what did she mean? Ayden looked around the wrecked campsite. The fire had been so hot, even the dirt was blackened. He fought a shudder, doing his best to answer the Fire Chief’s questions. Ayden well knew the routine. He was courteous, if not numb, fumbling, wanting comfort. A bit dazed. After a time the Fire chief and Rangers recognized Ayden was in shock and simply told him, “We’ll contact you, if we have any further questions. Sorry for your loss, Lt. Cantrell.” Ayden vaguely remembered nodding. 

He then set out to break camp, getting his two little boys to help with the tents. The sooner they left this place, the better. Next he focused on the chairs, got them folded and packed up. Looking around for anything he may have forgotten, Ayden spied the canister of lighter fluid. Picking it up, he removed the lid and carefully took a tiny whiff of it.  Not enough to give him chemical pneumonia, just enough to recognize this was not lighter fluid, but gasoline. Someone had switched out what Ayden had brought to their camp. This wasn’t even the same container. The bright red plastic bottle was none other than the 1-gallon gasoline tank he kept in the back of the car for emergencies. How did this get here? 

About this time, Braylon strolled back into camp. Holding out his hands, he said, “Hey, what’s going on? Are we leaving already? I thought we had one more night. Things were just heating up, in fact.”

“Jade’s dead,” said Ayden. “We’re going home. Stay here if you like. The site is paid for already. Here, keep a chair.” He all but flung the folded camp chair in Braylon’s direction.

“What are you talking about? I was just chatting with her. Say,” he said looking around. “How did the ground turn black. Ow,” he quickly pulled back his hand able to feel the heat still rising from blackened dirt. “Something’s smoldering. Wow. Did you pitch our tents over a geyser or something, bro? That’s not too bright.”

“Neither is exchanging lighter fluid for gasoline. Jade poured the stuff from this,” he held up the red gasoline bucket “onto the coal under the grill and the minute she set a match to it —”

“Boom?” Braylon said, and began to chuckle. Ayden cast his younger brother a glance. The man seemed totally distant, untouched, by the tragedy he and his little sons just suffered. Curiously, disturbingly, amused by it all. He knew Braylon was mean, but he never figured him to be so detached. Evil. Shortly thereafter, he packed up the boys, hollered for his ghostly father and they went home, leaving Braylon on his own.

Generation Two — Chapter Seven: Mobwives and Discord, Where Does a Police Lieutenant Fit In?

Ayden grew concerned. For two days in a row, he’d been unable to interrogate the suspect.

He went home and did his best to get a good night’s sleep, hoping that would ‘repair’ his situation. That was a sad joke on him. Jade gave birth to his second son that night. Sleep was elusive after that, to say the least.
After the third day of his ‘affliction’, his inability to even get the perp out of lock up, he took his situation to the Chief. After a nice chat, he at last grabbed the perp from the pen and sat the teen girl down in the Interrogation Room. What bothered him was the group of officers who filed in behind him. Ayden usually did his questioning alone. Were they studying his style, since he had a high conviction rate, or was something else going on? This worried him. The Chief had made some off-hand remark about how things were done in Sunset Valley and that he had to leave those ways behind him, they didn’t work here in Willow Creek. This remark left him completely baffled. 

     Sunset Valley? Ayden had only been there a few times to visit his father’s side of the family. He was never employed there.  Ayden got down to business and got the confession he needed. He filed his paperwork and went home for yet another day. 

As time slipped by, and Jaylen grew into a child, things didn’t get any better at the precinct. Lieutenant Ayden Cantrell was increasingly certain he had come under investigation. But rather than involve his family in his work problems, he kept them to himself, pretty much. Unfortunately, the tension that mounted inside of him began to escape, like steam from a boiling pot. He grew increasingly snippish.  

Come Saturday morning, he decided they all needed a bit of a change. He made reservations to go camping. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day. Packing his family up, they headed for the campground. Once the tents were pitched and the camping chairs arranged around the fire pit, Ayden began to feel a tad better. Sitting in front of the fire, already Ayden could feel the tension running out through his fingertips. He told the boys a few stories as they roasted marshmallows. He was having fun, for a change. And he did something unusual. Ayden smiled.  

   Later on, when he tried to have a nice conversation with Braylon over some burgers the brother grilled up for the group, Braylon flew into an unexpected rage! Jumping up from the picnic table he stormed off. Jade just gazed over at Ayden. “What was that all about?” she said. “You just asked him how things were going.”  

“I don’t know.  Maybe he’s picking up on my tension. Or maybe he’s having a hard time of it, too.”

“Ayden,” Jade said, placing a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you want a second child? I thought you were thrilled. But you haven’t been the same since his birth. Sweetheart, what is it?”

“It’s not Jaylen. Not for a minute. No, something is up with the chief and has been these past few years since Jaylen was born, really. She’s been riding me pretty hard lately. She’s said some pretty strange things to me recently, that’s left me worried, is all.”

“You mean like before when you thought she was going to ask for your badge?”

“No, it’s deeper somehow,” Ayden’s voice drifted off. Then he gazed hard at his wife. “Have you ever heard of the Mobwives?”

“The what?” batting at a mosquito. “Is that a Club?” 

“In a manner of speaking. It’s a crime syndicate —out of Sunset Valley,” like pieces of a jigsaw puzzled, the facts floated into place in his head. “Seems they have quite a setup in Willow Creek, now. All I know is this is the first I’ve heard of it— being in our jurisdiction, that is.”

“First I’ve heard of it at all, if that’s any comfort to you.”

Ayden flashed her a weak smile. “The Chief acted as if I should know something about it. So, I guess before I return to work on Monday, I’d better get myself up to speed. Who knows? Maybe she needs me to do some undercover work.”

“Oh, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just speculating. Say, listen, I’m going to get some sleep.” Ayden left and crawled into their tent.  

Jade sat at the picnic table for awhile. She could see it was very near dawn, and although she felt ill, there was little sense in sleeping this surprise weekend away. Instead, she collected some more wild basil and, thanks to the tips given her by the park ranger, she made some much-needed bug repellent on the grill.  

Pretty soon the sun rose lazily over the mountain ridge. She was just about ready to fix breakfast, expecting her two little boys to bounce out of their tent before anyone else, when to her surprise, Braylon was the first one up. He went straight to the horseshoe game and started taking a few practice tosses. Jade decided to join him, engaging her all-too-aloof, mean, brother-in-law in conversation. Hoping to get to the bottom of the family’s mounting dissension. He smiled when she greeted him and readily accepted her challenge to play a round.

“Sure,” Braylon said, “if you think you can beat me.”

Jade just smiled, trying not to be offended by his untoward remark. She had no idea whether she could beat him or not. She’d never had the pleasure of playing this game before. After a time, tossing the shoe horn at the peg and missing, a lot, she began a very casual conversation. “So, you’ve never really said what you do for a living,” she said, smiling brightly, yet bracing herself for yet another outburst. He was usually so guarded when it came to his job. What Braylon disclosed left her already reeling head, spinning!

“I’m a criminal, actually,” he said, tossing the horseshoe and listening to the clanking of it hitting its mark. He smiled, puffed his chest out and gestured for Jade to take a turn. “I work for a company called the Mobwives.”

     Jade’s carefully flung horseshoe went awry with that revelation, her concentration shifting. Then she laughed, half out of embarrassment, and half out of fear. “Oh, Braylon! You’re such a jokester. I’m surprised you didn’t say you were the Boss.”

Taking careful aim, he flung another horseshoe, “That’s because I’m not the boss —  at least, not yet.”

Generation Two —Chapter Six: A Night Out Meets The Stork?

Jade really loved being a mother. She enjoyed the time she had off for maternity leave. Soon, she was going to have to get back to work. Feeling a tad overwhelmed and out of sync, she decided to hone her skills before going back to the grind of the Business world. She was glad that Ayden was more than willing to help her get up to speed on her job requirements. Logic was something she struggled with, for one. So, he spent many an evening, after little Nathaniel was in bed for the night playing chess with her. One of these evenings she received a text message from a friend. Jade realized she hadn’t been spending much time out of the house, lately, so when she was invited to join her friends at a dance party, she went.  

She was fully rested, having adapted to the late nights of taking care of her beautiful baby boy. She was also delighted to see Patrice, once she got to the clubhouse. Jade took to the dance floor immediately. She had just a few more pounds to shed after giving birth. What better way than to dance them off? Happily, she remembered all of her moves and showed them off, too. Then she got a wild thought and challenged Patrice to a Dance Off. It was fun. Although, Jade couldn’t tell who won. Seems Patrice had a few moves of her own. This little bit of competition helped to strengthen their ties, too.

Sometimes Patrice was rather aloof. Jade was strongly considering throwing a dinner party, of which she would invite Patrice. She knew this would please Ayden, Erik and probably Braylon, too, so long as she threw it early enough in the day so he could participate, that is. She still wondered just what it was he did for a living. Any time the question came up, he was so evasive and, in fact, would twist things around with any number of mischievous antics. He loved to tease.

After her outing, which felt so good, reminding Jade she was a bit of a party animal at heart, Ayden met her in the drive.  

“I woke up and you were gone,” he said, kissing her on both cheeks.

“I should have left a note, I’m sorry,” Jade said. “My friends invited me to a dance party. It’s been so long …”

“I know. I need to take you out more often. Did you have a good time?”

Jade smiled broadly. “It was glorious. I may have beat Patrice in the dance challenge.”

“You’re not sure?”

“It was just a little strange. I danced first, she tried to follow along. In the end no one said anything. Maybe it was a tie?”

Ayden smiled, kissed her, and taking her by the hand led her into their bedroom where he closed the door. “May I have this dance?” he said, as he slid open the closet door.

Later, she was so glad they chose the closet over their bed. Not long after the closet door was slid shut, they heard their bedroom door open. When they finished their little romp of woohoo and stepped out of the closet, they were both surprised to see Braylon sitting at Ayden’s desk, using his computer.

Jade cast a glance at Ayden, who seemed peeved. She was equally peeved. This had to stop. Braylon had little to no sense of privacy and it was getting old. Fast. If she and Ayden ever got two minutes alone, truly alone, to discuss it, she was going to advocate that Braylon move out on his own. It was time. He was no longer a boy, had a steady job. He should be fine. Half of his problem, she was certain, is that he wasn’t allowed to stretch his own wings. Don’t birds nudge their chicks out of the nest at some point? 

A short time later, Jade became aware that her little unguarded moment of woohoo fun had put her back in the family way. Nathaniel was still a baby, although not for long. This would put a possible Sim year between them. Certainly, her hands were going to be very full from here on out. Excited, although dubious, she was quick to share her “big news” with Ayden.  

He was elated. The weeks went by and then she received yet another text from friends, reminding her she was the Leader of the Partihaus Club and just how long had it been between group meetings? Nauseous as she was, Jade went ahead and scheduled a dance party. She danced her little heart out, too.

Between running to the bathroom all too often, she was ravenous. She ordered something ‘safe’, or so she thought. It had always been a favorite. My, oh, my had they spiced it up, or what? Suddenly, her mouth was on fire. Shortly afterward, needing sleep badly, she ended the party and went home.   

Generation Two — Chapter Five: Births, Deaths and Marriages Come in Threes, Right?

It happened again! Ayden was out on patrol, when he spied the Grim Reaper, seemingly following a citizen as she walked across the street.  

Shortly thereafter, within only a few Sim days, in fact, it was discovered that Detective Meghan Spurlock climbed the stairs to the lunch room, and quietly expired.  Ayden was called into the chief’s office. While he sat in the chair before her desk, he wondered if despite how hard he was at work on his case file, if she was going to ask for his shield and his weapon.

This was not a good time to lose his job. Jade had just announced her big news to him. They were going to have a baby, soon. Jade was employed, but Ayden made far more Simoleons in his line of work. Simoleons they well needed. And Braylon? Well, who knew what it was he was up to, exactly? Anytime Ayden tried to get friendly with him, asking about his career, Braylon would simply lie, telling him he was a big time crime boss. 

“Yeah, right, Bray,” he laughed. “I know you work the night-shift, but that doesn’t mean you’re a criminal. Say, it’s okay if you’re a night-janitor. There’s no shame in that. Really.”

All of this was swimming around in Ayden’s head when the chief finally set aside her files, got up from her desk, and offered him some coffee, gesturing with the full pot in hand. Ayden nodded.

“Senior Detective Cantrell,” she began pouring him a cup. 

“Ma’am.” He took the mug she offered, wrapping his large hands around it.

“I’ve noticed something about you, lately. You have a very special talent. So, that’s why I would like you to go up to the break room and do whatever it is you did for our other two officers that stopped all of this mourning going on around here.”

“Ma’am?” Ayden leaned forward in his chair. He never realized anyone knew what he had done. He tried to be so quiet, so nonchalant about it. These people do solve crimes, he reminded himself.

“Well, you do realize that Detective Meghan Spurlock collapsed and died up there, a short time ago.”  

“Yes, I’m aware. It’s a very sad thing,” he took a sip of his coffee. “We keep losing good people.”

“Yes, it is sad. It’s also problematic in that the Commissioner is on my back. He says we’re slacking, or something. I guess he’s never lost three co-workers in so short a time, as we have— especially not right here at the precinct. I do know cases are getting backed up around here. I told him we’d get our best people on it. And that’s what I intend to do. Starting with you. I don’t believe in any of this mumbo-jumbo, but I have seen the results of whatever it is you do. So, before they all start jamming themselves into the break room, weeping relentlessly all over the place, please do that — thing you do.”

“You want me to release her spirit to the Netherlands.”

The chief waved a hand at him in dismissal. “Whatever you call it. Just get it done, all right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it.”  

Ayden set his coffee mug aside and climbed the stairs to the break room. The room did feel — off. Not altogether sinister, but not exactly comforting, either. Decidedly chilly, he was at once beset by feelings he wasn’t alone. No wonder few ventured up here these days. Getting down to business, he placed a hand on the urn there, said a few words of comfort and then proclaimed to Meghan Spurlock, “You are free to go to the Netherlands.” Again, he watched the gossamer mist swirl about the ornate, brass urn until it seemed to rise straight up and through the ceiling.  Then, he carefully disposed of the urn, hoping no one else would notice.

He was overcome with sadness, as he had been the other two times, but he had to admit, things felt different in the room. Clean, somehow. Certainly, the air was no longer on the frigid side. Then he went back downstairs, briefly told the chief the task was complete and went back to working on his latest case file.

When he got home from work at the end of his shift, Jade had no sooner served him some dinner, when she got a strange look on her face. Ayden quickly deduced she was in labor. He ate, cleared up the dishes and paced the room for a bit. Jade then got into bed and rested. Ayden crawled in beside her and did his best to sleep. Freeing spirits took a lot out of him. That was his biggest accomplishment for the day. Sad, but true. At least the chief was happy.  

When Ayden awakened again, it was to the sounds of Jade’s travail. She moaned, cried, and all but cursed him and then presto! They had a baby son. He sure was a cute little thing, Ayden thought, watching the baby as he slept in his little bassinet. Life had suddenly changed for him, as if he now understood the meaning of Life. No wonder this was something his father sought — why he gave up his rather successful, lucrative career as a Rock Star. Ayden felt moved to work on his writing skills. At least, he needed to get this new perspective on his father’s choices written down before they evaporated.

On the way in to work the next day, he wondered where he could find those chocolate cigars. He had an irrational urge to hand them out to anyone and everyone. He couldn’t so much as find a candy store, the most logical place to look, so he gave up on the idea and simply went to work. He was quick to share his news, also realizing how sleepy he was. Who knew just how loud somebody so very small could be at 2:00 AM? He must have consumed an entire pot of coffee before he left home. Doing a weird kind of duck walk, he finally made it to the bathroom.

Right away, he got down to work. Cross-checking the data base, analyzing the evidence. He took time to study the board again, realizing more clues were right before him. Before long, he issued an APB and within minutes he was down town looking for the suspect. Inside of a couple of hours the perpetrator presented, a male Sim with long sleeves. After a short conversation, and that all-too reliable gut instinct, Ayden made the arrest. This nut was a bit harder to crack, he soon realized. After he’d searched the guy, took his mug shot and got his fingerprints, it was off to the Interrogation Room. Ayden had a few tricks up his sleeve. He’d had plenty of practice already, in his young career. He liked to mix things up. Switching from good cop to bad cop to all but disinterested cop to checking his cell phone. He even presented evidence. So far, the guy, likely a hardened criminal, was hardly breaking a sweat. Time for Ayden give him the stink eye. 

When that failed, Ayden, mostly out of frustration, scooped up the paperwork from inside the file, all the bits of evidence, be it computer printouts to snippets of notes from his small notepad, and flung them up into the air. This startled the guy. They both sat there watching as the witness reports and other contents fluttered downward upon the tabletop.  

Ayden leaned in and gave the guy his best ‘stink eye’ again. The Sim was clearly rattled at the point, when Ayden reached behind himself, and dangled his handcuffs in front of the Sim’s face. “Do you have anything to say?” Ayden asked.

“All right, all right I did it, I did it! Just don’t hurt me.”

“Thank you, I thought so.” With that Ayden locked up the suspect. He filed his report, apprised the chief his case was now closed and clocked out for the day. But, not before the chief congratulated him.

“Detective Cantrell,” she hailed as Ayden left her doorway.

“Ma’am?”

“Congratulations on the birth of your son. And —”

“Thank you, Ma’am, but I’m a bit confused. And?”

“I’m promoting you to Sergeant. Good work.” She gave his hand a firm shake. Ayden smiled and for once, she smiled back at him.