Fragile Little Things Ch. 2

Author's Note: I really hate the first few chapters. I think it's a bit of a rocky start. But I've been working superbly hard on the meat of the story, which I think is rolling along quite well. I can has plot twists, plz?

Be on the lookout for typos, as I was typing this without paying attention & some of it was on a computer with a faulty shift key. Also, the phone call towards the middle of this chapter -- should I keep it? It has some relevance later, but I think it's a bit too deus ex machina right now. I'm not entirely sure if it should stay where it is. Opinions plz!

Chapter 2: Truth and Threats

He had killed six people in cold blood.

Every child in the town knew the story of Jesse Princeton well. The lone survivor of the massacre had turned the vile fiend in, and the great Eden Princeton (no relation) had put him down for good.

But as Eden looked over court records, she knew there was more to the story than what parents used to teach their children ethics. Just that morning she had received a plethora of calls and letters from citizens, primarily parents, frightened of Jesse's wrath. Eden wished she could tell them the truth, but knew it would convince nobody while ruining her carefully crafted public image.

She had asked Patricia to write up a press release ofr her, one that gave the trite promises to keep the townspeople safe and put the infamous criminal behind bars. It had all been said before. Jesse had been notorious even before he had taken six lives. Pro-death penalty activists found new voice when the massacre made headlines, but there was nothing Eden could do.

The court transcripts from Jesse's trial were familiar things to Eden. She had been present on the final day of proceedings, watching with assumed indifference. She had been unsettled, like most had, by the fact that Jesse showed no attitude, his eyes jumping to stare intently at whoever was talking at any one moment.

He had never denied the accusations, and his final plea had been simple, becoming the talk of the town for long after the trial ended.

"I lie about nothing."

She knew his voice so well, but that one line sounded like it had been spoken by someone else, using Jesse as a ventriloquism doll. That trial had been the first time she'd seen him since he ran away after graduating high school. She had been astounded to see how much he had changed.

Eden ran a hand through her hair as she pored over the transcripts that sat spread out on her desk like a fan. He was right. His blunt honesty was what had always set him apart, making him annoying and unlikable to those that valued the white lie. He never lied about where he was with his friends or what they were doing, he never lied about what was going on in his life. Eden remembered a particular experience when he accidentally broke a Chinese treasure brought home by their father, and he had told the truth with calm indifference.

And he had never denied the accusations.

Eden couldn't help but wonder if he really had been warning her of a renewed mob threat.

She jumped, startled out of her thought reverie, as Patricia opened her office door.

"Eden?" she asked. "I have your statement ready."

"Thank you, dear," she said. "Set up a press conference in an hour and see if you can track down Detective Leonard in the meantime."

Patricia nodded and ducked out of the room. Eden stared without seeing at the papers in front of her, her mind flying through the past year.

"We the jury find the defendant, Jesse Charles Princeton, guilty of six counts of first-degree murder, and one count of attempted murder."

Jesse's face remained impassive as the judge read out the sentence. The town's residents crowded the street outside the courthouse and cheered as Jesse was led out in chains, his hair messy and his face unkempt. A few rambunctious spectators threw rubbish at Jesse, but they missed and were quickly contained by police on crowd control duties.

Eden watched impassively from the courthouse steps. Her fellow law enforcers stood with her, as if they were some testament to the strength of the law against a single mass murderer.

As the officers below shoved Jesse into a police car, he managed to catch Eden's eye. His lips curled into a smile -- many people, who had also seen this exchange, would call it a smirk, but she knew it was a full-blown smile.

This puzzled her. Jesse was at his least dangerous whe he smiled. She had expected rage, bitterness -- even apathy would have let her sleep at night -- but happiness?

The gesture would haunt her until she became too busy to think about it any more.

One of the men standing around her, a strapping young detective named William Leonard, took her arm, snapping her back to reality.

"We did it, Eden. Jesse Princeton is behind bars," he said, in a quote that would later be paraphrased in newspaper headlines.

She looked at his smiling face, which seemed a long distance away.

"No he isn't," she said.

His smile turned to puzzlement.

"What?"

"He's not in jail."

"Eden? Are you alright?"

She felt Detective Leonard shake her arm. She blinked. The courthouse dissolved, replaced by the walls of her office. Detective Leonard stood over her, face concerned, holding her arm with one hand and reaching for the phone holster at his hip with the other.

"Are you feeling okay? Do I need to get some help?" he said.

"I'm fine, Will," she said, sitting up and waving him aside. "Just dozed off for a moment."

He let both of his hands drop, staring at her with his brow furrowed and his head cocked to one side.

"You wanted to talk to me?" he asked, releasing her arm. He took a seat on the opposite side of her desk, folding his hands across his stomach.

"Why do you think Princeton escaped?" she said, leaning forward and meeting his eyes. He raised one eyebrow, surprised at the question.

"Well, it's obvious, really," he said. "What kind of criminal actually wants to be in prison? Isn't that why we have prison guards? I'm sure Princeton has someone else on his hit list. Maybe the bloke who landed him in prison and then refused witness protection. Stupid move, really."

Eden's brow furrowed, her eyebrows diving toward her nose.

"Do you really believe that, Leonard?"

His expression matched hers as they sat in silence for a brief moment, the wall clock ticking away the seconds.

"Be honest. I won't think any less of you for it."

"No," Leonard said immediately. "I don't believe it at all."

"Why?"

"Because I have no reason to, other than it's the conclusion everybody always jumps to. I'd rather know for fact than jump on the bandwagon.

Eden smiled.

"I was hoping you would say that."

"What for?"

"I have a totally insane favour to ask of you. I could have asked this of anyone, but I was banking on your impartiality. I need that right now, Leonard. I need someone who has a head that's screwed on straight."

"What do you need?"

"How would you feel about aiding Jesse Princeton?"

There was a silence. Eden chewed on her lip, starting to wonder if she had made the right choice by inviting someone else into the fold -- Eden knew the mere notion of working alongside Jesse was dangerous, let alone dragging in someone who had nothing to do with anything. But then, she reasoned, she already had -- Patricia had blindly followed her into the office where Jesse was waiting.

"Aiding him?" Leonard said dumbly. "How... how do you mean?"

"I really don't want to believe him, but he was here. He told me that the mob threat isn't as small as we thought. He asked for help in taking it down once and for all. He thinks tracking down the boss and killing him will keep a war out of this city. I don't think I can do it alone."

"And you believe him?"

Eden paused, her eyes wandering to stare somewhere over Leonard's shoulder.

"I don't want to, but something makes me think he may be right."

Leonard cleared his throat, bringing her eyes back to his.

"There's something you're not telling me," he said, folding his arms. "What is it?"

Eden bit her lip, not wanting to answer.

"I think you believe him because you really want to believe him," Leonard said. "You want to believe there's more to the story. You want to believe he genuinely does want to redeem himself. And the only reason somone like you could be so emotionally invested in a mass murderer is if-"

"Don't say it," she groaned, her face hitting her palms.

"-he's your brother, isn't he?" finished Leonard.

Eden shut her eyes as tight as she could, afraid to look him in the face.

"You knew?" she squeezed out.

"Everybody suspects it, Eden. More people than you think don't trust the birth certificate on record for Princeton, especially since you were the one that found it. You may have his name, Eden, but you definitely don't have his cunning."

Eden sighed.

"he says he knows of a mob gathering in two weeks. He asked me -- and Patricia, who happened to be with me at the time -- to help him infiltrate it and find out who the mob boss is. Then, we take him down. I wanted to know if you would help me."

"You're not seriously going to walk straifght into a den of low-life mobsters who all want to kill you?" Leonard asked, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline.

"Well, I was considering it. I mean, it's more of a lead than we have right now. In fact, a lousy hair colour would be a better lead."

Leonard stood up.

"Eden," he said sharply, making her snap to attention in the commanding way that had made him famous in the precinct. "Don't lose sight of the fact that he's a criminal while you're desperate for him to be innocent. The fact that he happens to be the brother of the chief of police in no way redeems him for his actions."

He smoothed his clothes and left, the door snapping shut behind him. Eden stared at it for a logn time, nearly forgetting that she had arranged for a press conference.

+++

Eden walked through the streets of the frightened town that night, her coat pulled high and close against the winter chill. The dark clouds threatened to snow on the clean, empty streets as Eden walked home alone. She couldn't help feeling slightly afraid, chilled by the stillness in addition to the weather. Not a single car passed by, and no lights shone from the windows of the homes she passed.

She checked her watch. It was barely half past eight. Granted, he was walking home much later than usual (the press conference had dragged on for what felt like forever), but she had never seen the town so deserted.

Wanted posters bearing Jesse's photograph adorned every street lamp she passed, warning citizens to stay away from the armed and dangerous criminal.

Dangerous yes, but Eden knew that Jesse was rarely, if ever, armed. He preferred close hand-to-hand combat, believing it was less cowardly than long-range weaponry.

Eden massaged her temples, trying to shove all thoughts of Jesse out of her mind, tormented by the irritating persistence of journalists.

"How dangerous is Princeton?"

"Is it safe to let our children play outside?"

"How can citizens protect themselves?"

Reasonable questions, but Eden hated herself for giving false answers. She really wanted to smack everybody and tell them that Jesse was like a bee -- vicious only when perturbed.

But she didn't know if that was true anymore. It had been, once, but she had also thought that Jesse would never have maliciously killed someone.

Stop thinking about him, she thought as she fumbled with her house keys, her gloved fingers thick and clumsy. She hated how he was consuming her life again, after a blissful year of peace, when he was behind bars and the city had stopped panicking over him.

She opened the door and stood in the foyer. She blinked. She didn't remember leaving the lights on, nor did she remember leaving the television on; and evin if she had, she definitely hadn't left it on the channel that it was playing.

Eden wasn't one for cartoons.

She stared at the television, bewildered. An animated, unidentifiable creature was doing tricks or something similar on the screen.

She heard a laugh come from behind her and she turned.

"Jesse!" she gasped, taking a surprised step backwards and reaching for her heart. He was sitting at her dining table, feet propped on top of it, his body angled so he could watch the television across the hall. He held a can of ravioli in one hand, fork in another, a smudge of sauce just barely visible amidst the reddish stubble on his chin.

"You know," he said, dropping the fork in the can and wiping his mouth with his arm, "it's been over a year since I've seen a cartoon. These new ones are fantastic! See that little yellow guy? He's a sponge, and he lives in a pineapple, as much sense as that makes. But he works at a--"

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, cutting off his ramble.

"A brother can't visit his sister?" he said innocently.

"Not when the brother is a wanted criminal and broke into his sister's house!"

"Oh relax, I didn't break anything. You leave a fake key under the mat, sure, but the real one is under your neighbour's mat. I know you well enough, Eden. I'm the one who taught you that trick."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I like playing games. You might want to lock the door."

"Not until you've gone through it."

"I already have."

Eden gave an exasperated gesture, accompanied by a strange sound of frustration. She turned to the living room, grabbed the remote from the back of the couch, and turned the cartoon off. Ignoring Jesse's protest, she threw the remote down and turned to face him.

"Stop playing games," she growled. "Why are you in my house?"

"I wanted to know if you'd made a decision yet."

"I have." She folded her arms. "I'm not doing it."

"Why not?"

It wasn't a question meant to pressure her into changing her mind -- it was a question of genuine curiosity, free of ulterior motives.

"Because I can't trust you."

"Fair enough," he said, picking up the fork and eating a piece of ravioli. "But I'm not leaving yet."

"Why not?"

He didn't get the chance to answer. The phone rang. Jesse glanced over his shoulder, the phone within arm's reach.

"Don't you dare--" Eden snapped, lunging forward to stop him.

"Hello?" Jesse said into the receiver.

"Who's this?" Eden could make out the words of the tinny voice on the other end of the line. She watched Jesse's face turn from a cheeky half-grin to an expression of stony impassiveness.

"Hi, Mum," he said gently. Eden raised her eyebrows.

"Jesse? Is that you?"

"Yep."

"What have you done to Eden?"

"Nothing, Mum. She's standing right next to me."

"I'm calling the police. Don't you dare lay a hand on my daughter."

"I won't. Promise. Here she is."

He handed the phone to Eden without looking at her. Her eyes dwelt on him for a moment before she put the receiver to her ear.

"Mum?"

"Please tell me you're in the middle of arresting him."

"I'm not."

"I was just calling to find out about the case and he's right there with you... oh, baby, don't let him hurt you, please send him back where he belongs so I don't have to worry about you."

"I will, Mum. That's my job. He isn't going to hurt a soul. I'll take care of it. Don't bother calling the police."

"Scout's honour," Jesse said idly, holding up two fingers. He still wasn't looking at Eden.

"I'll be watching the news," their mother said and hung up. Eden set the phone down on the counter and stared at him. He stared at his boots, a vacant expression on his face.

"She hasn't spoken to me in seventeen years, you know that?" he said.

"I'm sure you're an emotional wreck over it," Eden said dryly.

"Not really. If I made a big deal about not having Mummy dearest to tuck me in at night, I wouldn't have gotten far in life."

Eden put her face in her palm and turned away.

"Fine. Stay until you get bored and leave. Just don't touch my phone and don't bother me."

She turned and walked into the living room. She picked up the remote again and turned the television to local news. She could hear Jesse in the kitchen, his fork occasionally clanking against the aluminium can. The couch looked in viting, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sit still. She felt overwhelmed and overstimulated, so she began to pace behind the couch, trying to unwind the golf ball her nerves had become.

She heard the door open and breathed a sigh of relief. Jesse was leaving. She turned around.

Eden screamed as she was knocked over by two burly men in dark coats with fedora hats pulled low. One vaulted over the couch and landed on top of her, seizing her hair, while the other ran around the couch to join him.

"This will be too easy," the second sniggered, pulling a knife from his pocket. IN the next second, he fell heavily to the ground, landing next to Eden, unconscious.

"What--" was all the first attacker ha dchance to say before he, too, fell over and was out like a light.

Jesse stood over both of them, fists raised, a hardened look of determination on his face. Eden's eyes were the size of snowglobes, her breath coming in short gasps Jesse held a hand out and helped her to her feet.

"Remember when you were asking me why I was here?"

"You knew?"

"Lucky guess, actually. They've been following you for a while now, and I've been following them. It was only a matter of time until they did something stupid, really."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have believed me?"

Eden opened her mouth but shut it again when she realized that he was right.

"So that part about not believing me... has that changed?"

Eden glanced at the two prone figures on the ground.

"They're mobsters," Jesse said, affirming her throughts. "Pretty low on the totem pole, probably sent to scare you or just spy on you. They got ahead of themselves, though. Poor choice, really. They should have known better."

"How do you know this isn't just a chance attack?"

"The mob doesn't work that way."

"How do you know?"

"I'll take that as a you still don't trust me despite the fact that I just saved your life," he said, grabbing one of the mobsters by the arms. "This, of course, has left us with both pros and cons. Cons, I miss a super-fun dance of liars. Pros, I miss a super-fun dance of liars and I have the source I need. You can take care of the other one in whatever way you see fit."

He dragged the unconscious mobster toward her front door, which they had left open when they had entered.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some coaxing to do. I'd recommend you get someone from the police department to stick with you at all times -- I'm sure that detective bloke would be happy to help. What's his name?"

Jesse and the mobster vanished into the night. Eden stood in the doorway for a moment before disappearing inside to call for backup.