THE GOOD GUYS. (Part 2 of 3)

 AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Nothing to see here. Do carry on, kind Sir or Ma'am. 

Vicki. 💖💖

CHAPTER TWO.

A year ago...

The four of them had been on a couple's Caribbean cruise. Mason and Kate had met, months ago, on a dating app, while Jerry and Natty had been an on-and-off couple for three years. The cruise had been Natty's idea.

Beautiful, smart, hilarious and a fast rising fashion stylist, Kate had been every fantasy, Mason ever had, rolled into one.

"She's too good to be true, man," He had said to Jerry, one evening. "Every day I go to sleep, scared that I'd wake up and it would have been a dream."

Jerry made a puking sound. "Dude, your sweetness is making my tummy ache. I don't even get surrounded with this much estrogen when I'm with Natasha." He sipped his drink.

"Whatever, douchebag. Will you be my best man?"

Jerry sputtered. "You're joking, yeah?"

"Bro, I'm as serious as a stroke and a heart attack, rolled into one." He frowned, and tried to wipe the spat out drink on his shirt. "Also, if you could try keeping your cognac in your mouth, next time, I'd appreciate it."

Jerry ignored the snide remark. "Mason, you've only known her for three months."

He shrugged. "So what? When it's right, it's right. You're acting weird, man. You should be ecstatic for me! Your boy is finally becoming a man."

"Of course, I'm happy for you. I just don't think it's something to be rushed into, that's all."

Almost immediately, a voice came from behind. "What shouldn't be rushed into?"

They turned to receive the girls. "Vasectomies," Jerry replied, with a grin.

That night, Mason proposed to Kate. Everything was perfect. Then, somehow, it all went wrong.

***

What had begun with common flu symptoms was now life threatening.

Mason was a mess, and Kate seemed just as bad. His symptoms grew worse, steadily, until he had no choice but to get admitted into the hospital.

"I just don't get it. Nothing seems to work. It's a miracle I still have fluid in my body, after the amount of bile I let out this month."

Dr. Jeremy shook his head in sympathy. "Don't fret, man. I got you." He drew out a clipboard from the tinplate being held by a nurse.

"What you have is Cinchophen poisoning, an advanced form of gastric poisoning. Basically, your body is fighting itself. There are new research drugs available but they're quite expensive, Mase.

If not, you could keep trying those drugs I already gave you or you could seek a second opinion." Before he finished, Mason was already shaking his head. "No, I want the research meds. I trust you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Tell Kate to contact my accountant. He'll know what to do.

****

Present day...

"I demand to see my client this minute!"

"Sir, he's currently being interrogated. Please, be patient."

"Let me get this straight. A confession is being coerced out of him, without the presence of his attorney?"

The desk sergeant was frustrated. "Sir, that's not what I meant. If you could just, please-"

"You go ahead and tell whomever is in there that if I don't talk to Jerry in the next two minutes, I will file for a mistrial in court, on the basis of him being denied his constitutional right to legal representation and the detectives being major pains in the backside."

A minute later, he was ushered into the interrogation room, by a guard. The detectives that had been with Jerry weren't in the room. "I need to have a private chat with my client."

The guard grunted and left. "What the hell did you do, Jerry?!"

Dr. Jeremiah was a shadow of himself. In the last 24 hours, he had found what looked like human parts in his fridge, called the police for help, gotten arrested and interrogated for the first-degree murder of his best friend's wife. "I didn't do it, Mason. I swear on Aunt's grave, I did not do this! You've got to help me, man."

Mason glared at him. "Leave my mom out of this. If you didn't do it, why were her- her body parts- Jesus, Jerry! They found body parts in your fridge!"

"I know it looks bad. I don't know anything. I swear I don't!"

There was a brief silence. "Fine. Walk me through this evening. You need an alibi. Where were you?"

"Uhm.. First, I drove to the farmhouse you had told me to check out. It was deserted, by the way. The foreman you said worked there never showed, so after waiting for three hours, I drove back home. Then I took Denise, the girl I told you about, out for dinner and back to my apartment.

I wanted to get us a nightcap from the fridge, which was when I- uhm... I saw the blood. Denise screamed and fainted. Then, I called the police."

Mason slowly nodded. "It should be easy to prove your whereabouts by tracking your phone. Where is it?"

"That's another thing. I can't seem to find it, and I swear I had it on me when we got drinks, yesterday."

"Okay. What about your car's black box?"

Now, Jerry had a glint of hope in his eyes. "It's there! It's intact! It must have recorded my whereabouts. Thank you!"

"Sure, man. Anything for a friend."

Jerry smiled and relaxed on his seat. "This is such a huge weight off my shoulders. I can't tell you how much I detested the thought of you believing those allegations against me."

"Never. We're brothers."

"Nevertheless, you must be crushed about Katie."

"Honestly, not really. We had grown apart."

The eerie calm Mason displayed was a bit unsettling. "Still, she was your wife, wasn't she?"

"I don't know, Jerry.” He replied, crossing one leg over the other. “You tell me. Was she my wife?"

"Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

“So you have no idea what I’m talking about. Is that it?”

Jerry nodded. “I really don't."

 

"Really? Then, please, allow me refresh your memory."