her hands on Vonleeâs shoulders and stopped just short of shaking her, before saying: âListen to me. You need to pull yourself together and move on. Forget about this. Forget it ever happened. Pretend it did not happen and get yourself back together.â
CHAPTER 11
A.J. DESMOND & SONS on Crooks Road, a major thoroughfare cutting through the city of Troy, intersecting with the Chrysler Expressway, has the predictable look of a funeral home: its redbrick outer shell, white Romanesque columns lining the front entrance from ground to roof and its lavishly plush green lawn and lavish landscaping, with each blade of grass and boxwood bush clipped to utter perfection. This was where the dead lay in a state of repose while their loved ones come to pay final respects. Make no mistake, in the Troy region, A.J. Desmond has provided its first-rate services to those in grief throughout this community for over a century. Terence B. Desmond himself had signed off on Donâs death certificate as the funeral service licensee when Donâs body came in for its final examination and grooming. Interestingly, with regard to Donâs death certificate, it had been signed by Desmond, Dr. Ortiz-Reyes and the Troy medical examiner, Dr. Dragovic, on August 12, 2000âyet, it would not be filed until August 17, 2000.
Donâs wake took place a few days after his death. All considering, Don didnât look that bad lying in his casket all made-up, wearing his best Sunday suit. For many attending Donâs wake, it was a celebration of his long and prosperous life. Most thought of Don as a good guy, someone who gave to his community, helped out the less fortunate when he could, but had kept to himself and, for the most part, left other people alone. In the end, a man shouldnât be judged by how much he drank. Don Rogers was a person of immense gratitude and humble beginnings, who appreciated what he had in life.
Toni Brosseau had worked for Don Rogers and his business partner, Don Kather, for the past sixteen years. She knew Rogers quite well and could vouch for how nice of a guy he was. She had seen Don Rogers, in fact, at about 2:00 P.M. on the day he died. Toni was the heartbeat of the company. Whenever Rogers prepared to leave the office for the day, he always made a point to stop by Toniâs desk and bid her a fond good night. As it turned out, Don had spent about six hours at the office that Friday, August 11. To Toni, Rogers looked and appeared fine. He had no markings on his face or lips. He wasnât complaining about anything in particular, and he spoke of going home and staying put for the weekend. The last thing she would have expected to hear would be that Don had gone home and drank himself into oblivion, passed out and dropped dead on the kitchen floor. Don was the type of guy that went to work every day. He might not have stayed in the office all day long, and everyone knew he loved to watch television while in his office, but he showed up at 8:30 A.M. every day and did his work.
As Toni arrived for the wake and filed into A.J. Desmond & Sons, along with the line of mourners, she thought about her old boss. There was one conversation Toni had with Billie Jean the week before Don passed that now felt kind of strange to Toni as she went back and considered it. Billie Jean had called and asked to speak with Toni, instead of her husband.
âMrs. Rogers, hi,â Toni said. It was rather surprising to be talking to âthe bossâs wife.â Toni had made a habit of not getting involved. But here it was, Billie Jean calling, looking to ask Toni a few questions.
âToni, I need to know something,â she said up front, holding little back. She sounded serious, but also anxious and maybe pissed off a little, too. âHas Don ever been improper with you in any way?â
It was altogether shocking and bizarre, this sudden accusation out of nowhere. Toni had met Billie Jean only a few
CHAPTER 11
A.J. DESMOND & SONS on Crooks Road, a major thoroughfare cutting through the city of Troy, intersecting with the Chrysler Expressway, has the predictable look of a funeral home: its redbrick outer shell, white Romanesque columns lining the front entrance from ground to roof and its lavishly plush green lawn and lavish landscaping, with each blade of grass and boxwood bush clipped to utter perfection. This was where the dead lay in a state of repose while their loved ones come to pay final respects. Make no mistake, in the Troy region, A.J. Desmond has provided its first-rate services to those in grief throughout this community for over a century. Terence B. Desmond himself had signed off on Donâs death certificate as the funeral service licensee when Donâs body came in for its final examination and grooming. Interestingly, with regard to Donâs death certificate, it had been signed by Desmond, Dr. Ortiz-Reyes and the Troy medical examiner, Dr. Dragovic, on August 12, 2000âyet, it would not be filed until August 17, 2000.
Donâs wake took place a few days after his death. All considering, Don didnât look that bad lying in his casket all made-up, wearing his best Sunday suit. For many attending Donâs wake, it was a celebration of his long and prosperous life. Most thought of Don as a good guy, someone who gave to his community, helped out the less fortunate when he could, but had kept to himself and, for the most part, left other people alone. In the end, a man shouldnât be judged by how much he drank. Don Rogers was a person of immense gratitude and humble beginnings, who appreciated what he had in life.
Toni Brosseau had worked for Don Rogers and his business partner, Don Kather, for the past sixteen years. She knew Rogers quite well and could vouch for how nice of a guy he was. She had seen Don Rogers, in fact, at about 2:00 P.M. on the day he died. Toni was the heartbeat of the company. Whenever Rogers prepared to leave the office for the day, he always made a point to stop by Toniâs desk and bid her a fond good night. As it turned out, Don had spent about six hours at the office that Friday, August 11. To Toni, Rogers looked and appeared fine. He had no markings on his face or lips. He wasnât complaining about anything in particular, and he spoke of going home and staying put for the weekend. The last thing she would have expected to hear would be that Don had gone home and drank himself into oblivion, passed out and dropped dead on the kitchen floor. Don was the type of guy that went to work every day. He might not have stayed in the office all day long, and everyone knew he loved to watch television while in his office, but he showed up at 8:30 A.M. every day and did his work.
As Toni arrived for the wake and filed into A.J. Desmond & Sons, along with the line of mourners, she thought about her old boss. There was one conversation Toni had with Billie Jean the week before Don passed that now felt kind of strange to Toni as she went back and considered it. Billie Jean had called and asked to speak with Toni, instead of her husband.
âMrs. Rogers, hi,â Toni said. It was rather surprising to be talking to âthe bossâs wife.â Toni had made a habit of not getting involved. But here it was, Billie Jean calling, looking to ask Toni a few questions.
âToni, I need to know something,â she said up front, holding little back. She sounded serious, but also anxious and maybe pissed off a little, too. âHas Don ever been improper with you in any way?â
It was altogether shocking and bizarre, this sudden accusation out of nowhere. Toni had met Billie Jean only a few
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