The Key

   Jason stopped dead in his tracks. This is it; this is where her car lost control. Standing alone on that empty country road, he finally felt the crushing weight of the last 24 hours. He felt like crying - but was afraid to.
   Moving forward, he followed a pair of black skid marks across cracks in the old pavement. The road veered north, but the marks continued east. East over a steep embankment and into a cornfield. A path of destruction through the golden stalks betrayed the final resting place of her car.
   "Corinna...what happened?"
   The only reply was a gust of cold autumn air. Jason shivered. He realized that he wasn't dressed warmly enough for this dreary, overcast weather. He didn't care. He was too confused to care about anything right now.
   "I'm sorry." He whispered.
   Jason thought back to their last conversation. A fresh wave of pain rushed over him. Why did his last words to her have to be so harsh? Did she die hating him? He couldn't bare to answer his own thoughts.

   "Jason, you're a jerk!" said Corinna. "I don't care what you think," it was obviously a lie, but she was angry, "it's none of your business what I do with the money!"
   "Fine." Jason shot back. "Just don't come to me complaining about how you're always broke."
   "I have lots of money..."
   "What are you talking about?"
   Corinna paused. "Danny gives me enough to get by on."
   "That's not what I mean." Jason was getting frustrated. "If you leave, it will be without anything. He won't give you a red cent."
   "Who says I'm going to leave him?"
   Jason knew from experience how Corinna could bait him, but he always fell for it. "Oh...I suppose you've suddenly decided that Danny is the man of your dreams again."
   "At least he's successful."
   The gloves were off. Jason had been struggling lately, but Corinna was usually there to encourage him. Now she seemed to be using it against him.
   "Successful? He's a bully and a thug. All his money comes from Mommy and Daddy, and anybody else he could steal from!"
   "Ya, well...maybe if you were more of a man, I wouldn't have to depend on him."
   Jason had lost control. "Go to hell."
   Corinna started to say something, but thought better of it. She slammed the door behind her as she stormed out of his apartment. A few minutes later, Jason heard the tires of her sports car squealing into the night, and she was gone.

   The following afternoon, Jason sat in a dark, secluded cafe; the one where they had secretly met for the past year. He couldn't phone Corinna to apologize. She was the one that had to contact him. It was certainly no secret how vengeful Danny LaRoche could be. The FBI constantly monitored his activities, and Jason didn't want to be one of them.
   Corinna wasn't going to show up, not after that terrible fight. It would probably be a week before she calmed down. Jason suddenly felt silly waiting at the tiny table for two. He stared through the glass top at his shoes. Walk away, he thought to himself. It's not going to last, anyway - so why not just walk away?
   Jason stood up, and slowly made his way out into the bright afternoon sun. He felt old and tired. Each step he took away from the "Corner Cafe" seemed a step away from his Corinna. Her smiling face lingered in the back of his mind as he stared idly into the shop windows.
   With a start, he realized that he was actually looking at her face, staring back at him from a TV set inside a store. He spotted a newspaper box. Fumbling for change, he read the headline above the photo:
   "Wife of wealthy industrialist dies in auto accident."
   Jason grabbed the paper, and scanned furiously over the front page. He was hoping against hope that it was a mistake. Or a joke. But it wasn't:
   "Corinna LaRoche, wife of millionaire industrialist Daniel LaRoche, died late last night when she lost control of her Porsche on old highway one, near Raven's side road. Police report that no one else was injured, and  that alcohol was not a factor."
   Jason was in shock. He couldn't breath, and felt sick to his stomach. His mind was frantic, searching for some way out - some way to make this all a lie. He looked up and saw an elderly gentleman watching him.
   "That's a real shame, that is." he spoke in a shaky high-pitched voice. "I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if that son-of-a-bitch got rid of her. She was always runnin' around. Such a pretty thing, too!"
   "She was no angel, let me tell you." a well dressed woman offered.
   Jason looked at her in dismay.
   "She just married him for the money," the woman continued. "and she was every bit as crooked!"
   Jason wanted to set her straight; he wanted to tell everyone they were wrong. But he stopped himself. Their relationship was so secret, that even his best friend didn't know about it. This wasn't the time to start telling complete strangers.
   "I read that she was working for the FBI." another voice joined in the conversation.
   "Don't believe everything you read." Jason heard himself say. His own voice sounded far away and detached. "Maybe she was just a nice girl that led a confusing life...maybe she was just in over her head."
   "Hmmph", replied the first woman, and she hurried on her way.
   Jason couldn't believe the callousness of these people. They didn't know Corinna. They had no idea what a warm, generous and caring person she was. Her life was none of their damned business. And yet, it now seemed that her death was everybody's business.

   Jason flipped channels on his TV. It was the news hour, and every station seem to mention her name. Corinna LaRoche, the poor little girl that married into the mob. On the national news, there was an up to the minute report. The police now suspected foul play.
   Murder.
   Jason felt a cold chill as the possibility sunk in. His mind rushed back to an early summer's day:
   "I've been collecting things," she told him, "things that could get Danny in a lot of trouble!"
   "Corinna, you could get yourself in a lot of trouble...:" Jason started.
   "...This," she interrupted, "is the key to a locker in the old bus terminal downtown. In that locker are receipts, photos and my favorite: a tape of a conversation between Danny and a very corrupt judge."
   Corinna held up an awkward metal key attached to an expensive gold chain around her neck. Her face was child-like in it's innocence; as if she had just caught her older sister smoking a cigarette in the basement.
   "He'd better not mess with me." she said proudly.
   That was four months ago, and Jason had avoided the subject ever since. He was too afraid of the possibilities. But now he felt an even deeper fear within the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should go to the police. If the locker really did contain some evidence, he could help put this guy away for good.
   But would they believe him? Since their affair was a secret, would they listen to him? Even worse, he thought - what if they did believe him, but couldn't protect him from the inevitable reprisals?
   Jason was not a brave man. Most of his life was spent avoiding confrontations and dangerous situations. Being with Corinna was the scariest thing he had ever done. But she was gone; he couldn't see himself risking his own life. Not now.
   He turned off the TV and stared out the window. The late afternoon traffic battled far below his apartment. People challenged each other for a precious car length, for a chance to beat the next red light. And somewhere down there, a man may have gotten away with killing his wife. He hated Danny LaRoche. He hated himself.

   Jason started down the hill towards the cornfield. It was much steeper than it appeared, and he tumbled forward, falling into the long brown bulrushes in the ditch. He got up slowly, and brushed himself off. The fall helped him to focus his thoughts. Why did the police think it was murder? Did her husband have something done to the car? Or was she just angry after their argument, and simply drove too fast?
   The last question was the one he feared the most. If it was his fault, then he would have to live with it for the rest of his life. And that would be compounded by the fact that he never got the chance to apologize to her. True, neither one meant what they said; but the words now had a life of their own, forever being played in his mind.
   "Stop it!" he said out loud.
   A Red Winged Blackbird flew across his path and landed on a cornstalk a few yards in front of him. He froze so as not to frighten it. The stalk swayed in the breeze, and the bird flapped it's wings for balance. But it didn't fly away, it just stared at Jason.
   "What do you think, little bird?"
   The bird seemed to eye him suspiciously.
   "What really happened last night?" Jason felt somewhat self-conscious, but continued: "How do I tell her that I'm sorry? Should I talk to the police? Is she watching me right now?"
   Jason stepped closer to the bird. "At least give me a sign..."
   With a flurry of feathers, the creature launched itself off of the cornstalk, and disappeared into the distance. That's when he noticed a flash and a glint of metal swaying where the bird had been. He walked over and carefully pulled a gold chain out of the crinkled yellow leaves. There was no question what it was. He had always tried so hard not to stare at this ugly little key when it was around her neck, but now it had his full attention.
   Shaking from the cold, Jason considered his options. He could bury it; that would be the safest thing to do. Just mind his own business, and forget about Corinna. She was gone.
   But the key was still tightly in his grip.
   Jason walked deliberately back up the hill to the deserted road. The late evening sun poked through the clouds, and the wind seemed a little warmer. Getting into his car, he started the engine, and closed his eyes, hesitating...
   For the first time in his life, he knew what he had to do.