Deceptions

By E. A. Stillwell

Scheming twin sisters attempt to be matchmakers. Their husbands thinking their plans too transparent, develop their own scheme which causes Michael Westin to read a book about a sixteen year old murder and make a startling discovery.

 

As he attempts to prove the innocence of a man imprisoned fifteen years for murder, his discov

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Vine Press
• Release date: Oct 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781949574203

E. A. Stillwell

E. A. Stillwell first caught the writing bug in college but then realized he couldn’t write about life if he hadn’t lived it. After a lengthy career as an architect, Stillwell is happy to be nurturing his passion for writing once again. He and his wife are avid travelers who divide their time between homes in Mexico and Florida. This is his fourth book. Visit his website at www.eastillwell.com.

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Copyright © 2018 by E. A. Stillwell.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Printed in the United States of America.

Book Vine Press

505 W. Lancaster Court

Inverness, IL 60010

Also by E. A. Stillwell

Odyssey of the Heart

From Olympus

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

E.A. Stillwell

Chapter 1

Friday, August 26

Julie Elliott was hot, tired, and sweaty. She had finished her work, turned the computer off and tidied up her desk. All she had to do now was make a final visit to the shop to check on things and then pack for her trip to Philadelphia in the morning. But first, she was going to soak up a little of the late afternoon sun and jump into the pool to get wet. Perhaps that followed by a good hot shower would revive her and make her feel almost human again, she thought as she walked towards her bedroom to change into her bathing suit. Little did she realize that her decision at precisely 4:30 P.M on the last Friday of August would change the destinies of thirteen people.

***

As Julie Elliott was changing into her two piece blue bathing suit, Jennifer Lockwood turned to her sister Joan Westin and said, I think the troops are getting restless. Perhaps it’s time we called it a day.

She and Joan had been staying with their children at their father’s condominium for the past month. It had been the first time they had seen each other for any length of time since the Christmas holiday season because Jennifer lived in Boston and Joan lived in Washington, D.C. A time to just hang out, as they called it, and enjoy the togetherness that only twin sisters who were very close could experience.

Joan turned from the book she was trying to finish and looked at her sister. Do you mind going on without me? I only have a chapter and a half to go and it is interesting.

No problem, replied Jennifer rising from her poolside lounger. Finish up. I’ll take the kids and start getting them cleaned up.

Thanks. I won’t be long, said Joan appreciatively as she turned her attention again to her book.

***

Damn, said Julie Elliott to herself when she reached the pool area. Five years I live here and hardly use the pool and today when I really want to, it’s crowded. Down East Maine had been in the grip of a prolonged heat wave that the locals of Mount Desert Island said was unusually severe for that time of year. Perhaps that’s why the swimming pool of the Frenchman’s Bay condominium, in a geographical area not noted for swimming pools or beaches, was crowded that late afternoon.

Damn, damn, damn, she continued, mumbling to herself about finding a lounger that was unoccupied. Finally, she spotted a lounger that was unoccupied and made her way to the opposite side of the pool.

***

Because she had been interrupted four pages into the next to last chapter of her book, Joan Westin decided to start from the beginning again. It had been an interesting book so far with an unusual twisting of events. She finished the chapter and was five pages from the end of her book when she heard the woman’s voice.

Excuse me, is this lounger occupied?

No, said an irritated Joan Westin briefly glancing up at the woman standing by her. It isn’t, she continued, turning her attention back to her book.

Joan? Joan Ashford? replied a very surprised Julie Elliott. Is that really you?

Startled by the sound of her maiden name, Joan Westin quickly turned and looked at the woman in the process of seating herself in the adjacent lounger. When she had first glanced up at her, the woman’s face had been in shadow. Now on a level with her own and in full sunlight, she could see the dark wavy shoulder length reddish brown hair that accented the soft rounded facial features of a woman in her late twenties. Oh my god, she gasped. Julie? What in heaven’s name are you doing here? I thought you had dropped off the face of the earth forever.

I live here. What are you doing here?

Jennifer and I are staying at daddy’s condo. We’ve come up each summer for the past couple of years.

I don’t believe it. I’ve lived here for five years and our paths haven’t crossed once! Oh, Joan. It’s so good to see you again, she said, reaching over and putting her arms around Joan Westin, her one-time best friend, and giving her a hug that was reciprocated.

It’s so good to see you again Julie. I thought you had disappeared from my life forever, especially since my letters and phone calls went unanswered. What on earth happened? What have you been doing these past five, six years?

Oh, it’s a long, complicated story. Not really worth talking about.

Not even to your best friend, at least your one time best friend? Have you done something that awful?

I guess some people think I did, Julie sighed as she lay back on the lounger and looked wistfully at the sky.

Joan, who was now sitting upright on her lounger with her feet on the ground, studied her friend for a moment and realized that she had unwittingly said something that had touched her friend deeply. What had she said? Then it came to her. Julie had said she, with an emphasis on the word she, was living here. There was no mention of Ted. She guessed he was either dead or they had divorced and she assumed the latter. Was it the big D? she finally asked.

Julie turned her head towards Joan and after a moment’s hesitation said, You still are a very perceptive person.

It was pretty bad, huh.

Pretty bad. Fired after only two years. I guess I wasn’t what everybody wanted. That’s why I came here. I used to come here with my parents when I was a little girl. It was the only place I could think of at the time where I could get away.

Joan reached out and placed her hand on her friend’s hand. Her touch said I understand and that there would be no further questions. After a few moments, she withdrew her hand and lay back on her lounger and looked up at the sky. As she did so, Julie rose and walked to the edge of the pool and dove in. Joan instinctively knew that Julie was attempting to regain her sense of composure. After a few reflective moments, she picked up her book and tried to start reading again, but it became an effort in futility so she put it back down and looked back up at the sky. It really must have been pretty bad she thought as she lay there watching the occasional clouds float by.

It was as she watched the passing clouds that the idea came to her. How to handle the logistics would be a problem, but she was sure she and Tom could work out something. She thought of the five years of loneliness that Julie had obviously experienced. Then she thought of Michael, who was still in the hospital, and his three years of loneliness. Through the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Julie just getting out of the pool. As Julie walked toward her, she was convinced that her best friend would become an even better sister-in-law.

***

Bryan Lockwood finished reading the letter and then turned and looked out the window of his fifteenth-floor office. Below him, the city of Boston fanned out to the far horizon. In the distance, one could see the planes landing and taking off from Logan Airport. Bryan Lockwood, however, was seeing none of that because he was staring only into space, seeing only the blue skies of his thoughts. Tom was right, he said to himself, the court had accepted the appeal. That was fifty percent of the battle. Now he would have to get prepared for the oral arguments that were scheduled for April, which also according to Tom if handled right, there was a better than fifty- fifty chance of success due to the makeup of the court.

Returning from the blue skies of his thoughts, Bryan Lockwood once again read the letter, then rose from his chair and headed toward his office door. As he walked down the walnut paneled corridor toward his father’s office, he was picturing himself as the next F. Lee Bailey.

***

As the taxi slowly made its way down Sixteenth Street, NW in the nation’s capital on its way to National Airport, its lone passenger, Tom Westin, was daydreaming about his wife and two little girls. A month away was a very long time and he missed them very much. Tonight, he would be having dinner with his brother-in-law, Bryan Lockwood, at some restaurant in Boston, where they no doubt would discuss in detail the Sheridan appeal and then first thing in the morning they would be off to Bar Harbor for the family reunion. He couldn’t wait.

***

Hayden Lockwood had just finished a telephone conversation with Kathryn Kendall as his son Bryan entered his office looking like the Cheshire Cat.

I take it by the look on your face, said Hayden Lockwood, That you are the bearer of good news.

At four forty-five on a Friday afternoon, said Bryan Lockwood smiling as he seated himself in one of the chairs in front of his father’s desk, I couldn’t hit you with anything but.

Glad to realize that you’re considerate of an old man at the end of a busy week. Now, what’s the good news or do you want me to guess?

You’d probably be able to guess, said Bryan Lockwood as he handed his father the letter. The Supreme Court has accepted our appeal of Sheridan Vs State of Maine."

Now that is good news, responded Hayden Lockwood. In fact, that calls for a little celebration. I suggest we adjourn to the club upstairs, he continued, referring to the Patriot Club on the thirty-second floor. And if you don’t mind, I’m going to call Kathryn Kendall and ask her if she would like to join us. Funny, I was just talking with her before you came in.

OK, but I have to be at Logan by seven thirty to meet Tom.

No problem, replied Hayden Lockwood as he started dialing Kathryn Kendall’s telephone number. Give him my best when you see him and particularly tell him how much I appreciate his help. No. Wait. I’ll send Walter to the airport for him and have him brought to the club. I think it’s time that he and Kathryn meet.

***

It had been a very tiring day for Tom Westin. Now seated in the cocktail lounge opposite his U. S. Airways departure gate enjoying a gin and tonic, he couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. As Clerk to Supreme Court Justice Lawrence Anderson, it was not easy to just pick up and leave. Justice Anderson was still in Europe and there was much to be done. However, he Tom, also had a life and responsibilities as his mother constantly reminded him.

What are you going to do about Michael? his mother had said as she sipped her second martini. They were sitting in a booth at the Market Inn in Southwest Washington.

I don’t really know, he had replied.

It has to be you, Tom. You’re the only one he’s the least bit responsive to. He knew his mother was truly worried about his older brother and was not attempting to avoid a parental responsibility or unfairly pressure him.

Three years prior, had been the darkest day in Michael Westin’s life. His wife, Karen, and their two daughters were killed in a multi-car accident on interstate 495, the freeway that circled the Nation’s Capital. For two and one-half years after Karen’s death, Michael had been a lost soul floundering in a wilderness of grief. Family, friends, and business associates had become increasingly worried about his health and well-being. Then six months ago, Michael also became involved in a multi-car accident. Although he survived, he had spent those six months at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center. He was to be discharged two weeks from now.

After having lunch with his mother Tom had taken a taxi to Walter Reed where he had spent almost three hours with Michael. For all intents and purposes, Michael had appeared to be totally recovered and ready to face the real world again. But Tom knew his brother very well. Although Michael wore the face of the clown, so to speak, Tom knew that Michael needed a reason d’être: the type of challenge that could help another human being while at the same time proving to be the tonic that would restore Michael’s lost soul. Finding that tonic was Tom’s responsibility.

It was, as the announcement came that his flight was now boarding that the idea came to Tom Westin. He would broach the subject with Bryan this evening while having dinner and enjoying a few adult beverages.

Chapter 2

Saturday, August 27

Barbara Cranston looked affectionately at her husband Scott as he read the morning edition of the Washington Times. After all these years, she thought, that special feeling hasn’t changed. Some guardian angel must have been looking out for them. How else could she explain her good fortune at being a permanent part of his life?

Today would be a special day for them because it was going to be a family day. It was late evening when they had arrived at Andrews Air Force Base on Air Force Two and then made the short helicopter trip to the Naval Observatory grounds where the vice-presidential mansion was located. Tired after the long trip and the many fundraisers that had preceded it, they had gone straight to bed and as usual, his long arms were wrapped around her, holding her securely as she drifted off to sleep. In the morning when they woke, they had made love, then showered and dressed for the day. At any moment Matthew and Mark would be joining them for breakfast and when they were finished, they would all be off to the National Naval Medical Center golf course.

I’ll be damned, said Scott Cranston shattering his wife’s thoughts.

What is it, dear, she responded automatically.

The Supreme Court has agreed to hear Gordon’s appeal.

For the briefest of moments, she was stunned by what he had just said. But why? she finally responded. What would there be to appeal. Wasn’t it an open and shut case?

I thought so, but according to his attorney, his conviction was the result of sloppy detective work in conjunction with an overzealous media influencing the administration of justice. It’s all here, you can read the article for yourself when I’m through.

I will, she replied as her thoughts drifted back to a time in the distant past when there were three couples from Boston that summered on Mount Desert Island, Maine. The New England hedonist society they facetiously called themselves. Ultra conservatives escaping the Peoples Republic of Massachusetts. Gordon and Marilyn Sheridan. Scott and Barbara Cranston. David and Kathryn Kendall. Gordon had been a wealthy real estate developer. David had been a successful plastic surgeon. And Scott was an attorney being groomed to succeed his father who was Governor of Massachusetts. She never dreamed that he would become Vice-President of the United States and the odds-on favorite to succeed President Carlson in next year’s election. Do you think he will try to contact us if he is set free, she asked breaking momentarily free from retrospect.

I would be surprised. Why would he want to?

I guess he wouldn’t, she replied, trying to hide the uneasiness that was developing within her.

***

Eaton Avenue was a dead end street, stopping at the edge of a small cliff along the harbor edge. From the deck of 70 Eaton Avenue, Jerry Singer enjoyed one of the most spectacular views in Maine, a panorama captured by many a photographer and displayed in many a calendar. Jerry Singer hated retirement, but he had no choice. Age, health, and technology had caught up with him. He could have survived the age and health problems postponing retirement for several years but he hated computers. He was of the old school of typewriters and noise in newsrooms. Of dim lights and smoke filled rooms, an environment of only men. In an age of brightly-lit offices, a non-smoking environment, female journalists, and computers he was totally out of place. Like many retired journalists, he had planned on writing the great American novel, but somehow it had never happened. He had written one successful work of non-fiction, The Sheridan Murder Trial and had invested the money wisely.

This morning he had read the articles in the Bangor Daily News and the Camden Herald. Now enjoying his second cup of coffee and an English muffin while enjoying the view of downtown Camden and its inner harbor, his thoughts once again drifted back to the dreams unfulfilled.

***

Kathryn Kendall liked sitting on the screened porch of her home in Northeast Harbor while she enjoyed her morning cup of tea. The morning was her favorite time of day. Today, however, it was mid-afternoon as she sat thinking of this morning and the evening before as she watched the occasional yacht sail north through Somes Sound.

Although she had planned an early evening because of her flight to Bangor in the morning, at Hayden Lockwood’s request, she had joined him and his son Bryan at the Patriot Club. Once their drinks had been served, Bryan handed her an envelope, telling her he thought she would appreciate reading what was inside. When she did, tears started forming in the corners of her eyes and she had to fight to retain her composure. A while later they had been joined by Bryan’s brother-in-law, Tom Westin.

Tom is my secret agent, said Bryan Lockwood facetiously and my pulse of the Court. Bryan had gone on to say that he doubted whether he could have been successful without Tom’s help. By the time the evening was over, she had found herself feeling somewhat optimistic, although Bryan Lockwood had cautioned her about counting her chickens before they had hatched.

***

Now that the kiddywinks are safely tucked in bed, said Bryan Lockwood, I think it’s time for some adult entertainment.

There he goes again, chided his wife Jennifer. Just like a man, always thinking of sex.

Says she who wanted to get me into the bedroom, two minutes after we arrived, retorted Bryan.

Well, Jenny,’ said Tom Westin joining in the humor of the moment. For you to assume what he was thinking of, you would have to have been thinking of it yourself."

Actually, said Bryan. I was thinking of the four beautiful steaks that are about to be broiled and enjoyed with a fine cabernet and the bottle of champagne I am about to open and which we are about to drink in celebration.

Celebration? asked Joan.

What celebration? added Jennifer.

With the help of my esteemed brother-in-law, replied Bryan, The United States Supreme Court has agreed to hear our appeal of Sheridan Vs State of Maine. Oral arguments are scheduled for April.

Oh, how wonderful, Joan and Jennifer exclaimed in unison. Then, Joan, noticing how her husband Tom was smiling, said, You knew. And you kept this secret all day.

We wanted to surprise the both of you at an appropriate moment.

Well, said Bryan as he proceeded to pour their champagne, Don’t be measuring me for an F. Lee Bailey suit yet, we still have a lot of work to do between now and February.

With their glasses filled, they proceeded to drink a toast to the success of the appeal. Even if the odds were only fifty- fifty they were all optimistic. After all, the odds at the beginning had only ranged from slim to zero

This brings me to another subject, said Tom Westin to his wife, This is probably the best time to let it all out.

For a moment Joan Westin looked at her husband inquiringly. Then asked, Michael?

Yes. I don’t quite know how to begin, but Bryan and I discussed this last night and we wanted to bounce an idea off you gals before we committed ourselves.

What idea? asked Jennifer.

Michael is completely rehabbed physically, replied Tom. It’s the mental aspect where there’s a problem. He needs to be needed, but needed in a way in which he would be really helping someone else.

You’re not thinking of involving him in this Sheridan affair are you? asked Joan.

Why not? responded Tom. Bryan’s a damn good lawyer, I know the makeup of the court, and you know the analytical mind that Michael has.

But what would you have him do? asked Jennifer.

Read, said Bryan. Read. Read anything and everything no matter how remotely connected to the case.

That’s why I bought this, this afternoon, said Tom reaching for the book on the coffee table, then handing it to Joan. They had been walking by Sherman’s Bookstore on Main & Cottage Streets this afternoon when Joan had decided she wanted to go in and browse around. In a used book section, Tom had discovered the book, "The Sheridan Murder Trial." Although Bryan had told him about it, he had never read it. He had picked up the book and started to look through it, but Joan was ready to go so he put it back down.

Upon leaving the store, Joan had reconsidered her decision not to purchase a particular book and they returned. It was then he decided to purchase the book. First, he would read it and then he would give it to Michael. He was sure Michael would read it because of Bryan’s involvement and then the other phasing in of effort could commence in such a way that Michael would feel he was really being needed and not pitied.

As Tom Westin was handing the book to his wife, Jennifer interjected herself and addressed him.

Would it be possible for you to take one or two weeks off to go somewhere with Michael? Just the two of you. To just kind of hang out like Joan and I like to do on occasion.

Before Tom Westin had a chance to answer, Joan Westin suddenly exclaimed, This is the same book I saw in Julie Elliott’s condo.

Who’s Julie Elliott? asked Bryan Lockwood. "And what’s she got to do with the price of eggs in China

You know Julie, responded Jennifer.

The Julie of the Jay’s? asked Tom Westin. The Jay’s, Jennifer, Joan, and Julie had been a trio that had performed at a Boston University charity function. Their initial singing together had been an act of spontaneity on the part of three close friends. As sometimes happens in life, they were in the right place at the right time for the appropriate person to hear them sing and the Jay’s were born and soon became local celebrities. They even cut a record, which climbed to number two on the local charts. However, the Jay’s never had a desire for fame or fortune. None of the girls needed the money; they all came from very wealthy families. And even more important, each had a boyfriend they were in love with and had no greater desire in life than just being a loving wife and a good mother.

Yes, replied Joan. The same. I saw her yesterday at the pool. She’s been living here in Bar Harbor for the past five years. Right here in this condo complex.

Uh oh, said Bryan, I see a picture being formed Tom if you get my drift.

Tom Westin thought for a moment and then the same picture that Bryan had mentioned began to develop. Turning to his wife, he said, Would I be correct in assuming that Julie is living here by herself. I mean with no man in her life?

She’s divorced, replied Joan.

And what you were wondering Jennifer, is if I could bring Michael up here to meet Julie?

Sort of, responded Jennifer demurely.

And I bet they’ve got it all figured out, interjected Bryan Lockwood. You’ve got to watch these two at times. No telling what they’ll conspire to if left alone."

Well, we don’t have it all figured out, said Jennifer. There’s a bit of a problem.

And pray tell, what is that, said Bryan.

You know the old saying about leading the horse to water? answered Joan. Julie Elliott is not the least bit interested in meeting another man and the last I heard, Michael Westin was not the least bit interested in meeting another woman.

I guess that is a bit of a problem, replied Bryan. But if I know anything about you two, you’ll find a way. You always do.

Chapter 3

Saturday, September 17

What am I doing here, thought Michael Westin as the hot spray of the shower pummeled his body? A whole week of sailing, golf and playing tennis in the cool early September weather. He and Tom hadn’t spent that much time together since their high school days almost fifteen years ago.

Big brother, just consider this your R & R period before rejoining the world, Tom had consistently said each time the question was raised.

He knew Tom, and probably Joan, had an ulterior motive, but he hadn’t yet figured it out. And it wouldn’t surprise him if Bryan and Jennifer were also part of this conspiracy. How else could one explain being spirited away from Washington on a corporate jet?

It was only a week ago yesterday that Janice, his nurse, and physical therapist, was pushing him in a wheelchair toward the entrance of the Walter Reed Army Medical Center. He could still remember the sadness in her eyes as they each said goodbye. Through the weeks of his rehabilitation, they had become very close. Perhaps at another time and place, they would have gotten closer, but the timing was wrong. Too much had happened. He wasn’t ready to get that close to anyone again.

Tom and Joan had met him in the lobby and walked with him to the waiting car, Joan explaining that his mother and father had wanted to be there too but his father had to be in Brussels and his mother had accompanied him on a space available basis. Well, that was life. As an Air Force member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Westin had to do what he had to do.

When they left Walter Reed, he thought that he was going to be taken to his home in Bethesda and was surprised when Joan continued to drive down Sixteenth Street. Although he was surprised, he had decided to say nothing and allowed her to continue onward without comment. It was only after they had crossed the Fourteenth Street Bridge and headed toward National Airport that he had let his curiosity gets the best of him.

You and I are going to have a little R & R period together, Tom had said in response to his question. Before you rejoin the real world. Moments later they were pulling up in front of the General Aviation Terminal at the South end of the airport and soon he and Tom were aboard Richard Ashford’s corporate jet bound for Bar Harbor, Maine.

***

Kathryn Kendall was enjoying her second martini as she watched the Sun slowly settle below the horizon. Each time she returned from her visit to the State prison at Thomaston, she felt in the same reflective mood as now. Suddenly she felt depressed as she had a momentary thought of the decrepit red brick structure fronting on the main street in the