Twisted Lies

by C. B. Clark

  JD squeezed his hands together, his swollen, arthritic knuckles white. A dozen emotions crossed his stricken face…fear, regret, sadness, anger, and something more—something feral and deadly. “William shoulda kept his mouth shut.”

  “Let’s go.” Russ tugged her hand.

  She shook him off and ignored the warning flashing in his eyes. “You killed my father, JD! I don’t know how, but you killed him to shut him up.” Her chest heaved as if she’d run a marathon, but the stricken look on JD’s face made clear she’d spoken the truth.

  Shawn leaned back against the deck railing and crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on, Maggie. What else do you think he did? Lay it all out.”

  She shuddered at the threat in his harsh voice, but she couldn’t stop. The truth had to come out. “He hid their bodies where no one would find them, hoping the cops would think my parents sailed away on their ketch and left me.” Tears filmed her eyes. All these years she’d lived with the hope her parents were alive, and one day she’d find them, and they’d be reunited. Now that dream was dead. She glared at JD, and a wave of revulsion and hatred flooded her. “You murdered my father.”

  “Let’s go, Maggie.” Russ’s voice was firm, and he gripped her arm and steered her down the steps, not giving her a choice.

  Once again, she shook free of his grasp. “I’m not finished.” A sob hitched in her throat, but she swallowed back the lump and let her fury reign. “Do you realize the hell I’ve been through, JD? All these years I’ve wondered what happened, thinking my parents deserted me. Not knowing has eaten at me until it destroyed everything good in my life. And that’s on you.”

  JD raised his grizzled head and turned bleary eyes on her, a pleading light in the rheumy depths. “I’m sorry, Maggie, but if your father told Angus about the drugs, I woulda lost everything. I needed that shipment. I needed the cash. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Tears filled his eyes, and he blubbered. “It just sort of happened. William wouldn’t stop talkin’ about the drugs, sayin’ he was going to the cops, and I had to shut him up. I…I found a rock, and the next thing I knew he was dead.”

  Shawn lunged at JD and slapped him across the face. “Shut up, old man. For once in your life, shut the fuck up.”

  JD’s head snapped back, and the chair tilted and crashed onto the deck, throwing him onto his back. He sprawled, chest heaving, a string of drool escaping his gaping mouth.

  She stared in stunned silence, shocked at the violent explosion.

  Russ rushed to JD and helped him sit up. He glared at Shawn. “Why the hell did you hit him? He’s your father, for God’s sake.”

  Shawn hitched up his pants and sniffed. “He wouldn’t shut up. He never shuts up.” He glowered down at JD.

  The package of cocaine lay on the deck where it had slipped out of JD’s pocket when he fell.

  “Shit, Dad. You showed them the drugs? What were you thinking?”

  JD groaned and tried to scramble to his feet but collapsed on his butt. “It’s not my fault.” He jerked his chin at Russ. “He found the package in the freezer. I didn’t tell ’em it was yours. I didn’t, I promise.”

  Shawn smoothed his hand over his scraggly beard. “You just did, you stupid old man. You talk too goddamned much.” He drew back his fist.

  Russ stepped between father and son and held up his hands. “Don’t hit him again.”

  Shawn’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he jutted out his bearded chin, but he lowered his arm.

  A bone-crushing weariness stole over her. “I need to know one more thing, and then we’ll leave.” She swallowed, but her mouth was devoid of moisture. “What…what happened to my parents’ bodies? What did you do with them, JD?”

  “Don’t say anything more, Dad. Keep your friggin’ mouth shut.”

  JD’s red-rimmed eyes met Shawn’s. A look of defeat deepened the lines on his weathered face. “It’s too late, son. She deserves to know.” With Russ’s help, he stood on unsteady feet and leaned against the table. “I wrapped their bodies in a strip of old canvas your father had lyin’ around and carried ’em to their skiff. Then I sailed to Sewell Island. They’re buried there.” He stared at his shaking hands. “I found a real nice spot under a tree on a hill overlookin’ the ocean.” His rank breath huffed out in a noxious cloud. “After I laid them to rest, I sailed the ketch to a remote location, opened all the valves, and scuttled her. A friend picked me up on his boat.”

  Her legs wobbled, and she grabbed the back of a chair for support. She finally had her answer. She knew where her parents were, where they’d been all these years. Clara was right—sometimes the truth was worse than the not knowing.

  Chapter 40

  The sun sank behind the trees, casting long shadows across the weed-filled clearing. Crickets chirped in the deepening dusk. An owl hooted from somewhere deep in the forest.

  Otis stood at her side, his body tense, his gaze fixed on Shawn.

  “You know we have to go to the police.” Russ’s steel-laced voice sliced through the tension-filled silence. “You murdered William O’Flynn. You’re going away for a long time, JD.”

  “Wait.” JD lurched toward Russ and grasped his arm. “You can’t go to the cops.”

  “I can, and I will.” Russ threw off his hand, gripped her elbow, and guided her down the steps. “Come on, Athena, let’s get out of here.”

  “Stop right there!”

  Startled at the command in Shawn’s voice, she swung back.

  Incredibly, he held a handgun—pointed at her chest. His eyes were savage, his mouth a thin, hard line.

  Fear clawed her heart. The ground beneath her dissolved, and she felt as if she were falling. She clutched Russ’s arm. “What…what are you doing?” Her voice was a thin squeak barely audible over her pounding heart.

  Russ shoved her behind him, protecting her with his body. He held his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. “Put the gun down, Shawn. You don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “What the hell, Shawn. Don’t shoot ’em.” JD staggered across the deck.

  “I can’t let them go to the cops, Dad. You know that, right? You’ll end up in prison like he said.” He waved the gun in the air. “And they’ve seen the drugs. I’m not going down for that. No damn way.”

  “This is all your fault, Maggie.” JD swayed and gripped the railing, his eyes sad. “Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone? Why did you have to come here and stir up this old shit?” He tipped his head back and stared up at the darkening sky. When he looked back at her, he nodded as if he’d reached a decision. “I took those photos of you for Angus, just like I said. After you left the island and moved in with your aunt, I kept takin’ pictures and sendin’ them to him. And he kept payin’.”

  He sniffed. “He wanted to know everythin’ about you, but I didn’t tell him you’d changed your name or where you lived. If he knew that, he wouldn’t have needed me. He could have hired someone else. The money was too good to give up.

  “When my arthritis got too bad to be hidin’ in bushes—” He nodded at Shawn. “—Shawn here took over.” A note of pride crept into his voice. “He’s a damn fine photographer.” He puffed out his chest. “Just like his old man.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and she peeked around Russ’s bulk and glared at Shawn. “I saw you. You followed me to Vancouver.” She remembered the bearded man with the red cap with the distinctive black logo vanishing in the crowd outside the lawyer’s office. “It was you outside my house in Calgary, and again at Angus’s cottage. I knew someone was there.”

  “That’s funny.” His cackle was at odds with the dull gray gun he held steady, his grip unwavering. “You never noticed all the other times I followed you, snapping pictures, peeking in your windows, watching everything you did.” He smirked. “And I mean everything.”

  Her fury found a new target, and she scowled at Shawn. “You’re still taking pictures. Why bother? Angus is dead. No one’s paying you anymore.”


  His grin widened. “I was hoping I’d catch some pics of you naked. Those type of photos sell, especially if they’re of poor, tragic little Maggie O’Flynn, all grown up.”

  Her breath rattled in her throat, and she shuddered.

  Russ inched a step closer to Shawn.

  “Stay where you are.” Shawn pointed the barrel at Russ.

  He moved another step. “What are you going to do? Kill me?” Russ sneered. “Are you willing to murder two people in cold blood, just like your father killed William O’Flynn? Tell me, does murder run in your family?”

  “I told you that was an accident,” JD said. “William was gonna call the cops. I would’ve spent the rest of my life in prison.” His face darkened. “I wasted a couple of years in jail when I was a punk. I swore I’d never be stuck in a cage again.”

  Otis growled deep and low in his throat. His lips curled back, exposing sharp canines.

  “Shut that damn dog up.” Shawn pointed the gun at Otis.

  The evil intent in Shawn’s eyes confirmed her worst fears. He was a cold-blooded killer and wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. “Please don’t hurt him.” Tears burned her eyes. The thought of Otis getting hurt because of her was too much to bear.

  JD’s rheumy gaze settled on her. “Don’t worry, Maggie. I like dogs. Otis is upset now, but once this is over—” The corners of his mouth tightened, and his gaze skittered away. “—the two of us’ll get along just fine.”

  Shawn waved the gun at Russ. “Put him in the trailer.”

  Otis growled again. The ridge of hair along his spine rose, and his muscles bunched, ready to spring.

  “Do it!”

  Athena couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow. “Quiet, Otis.” Her voice was a strangled whisper.

  The night sounds of crickets and frogs were muted. Salt and the faint sewer scent of low tide carried on the light breeze.

  Russ grabbed Otis’s collar. “Come on, boy.” He dragged the resisting dog up the steps and across the deck to the trailer door. Opening the screen with one hand, he shoved Otis inside and slammed the door and returned to Athena’s side.

  Otis whined and barked, his claws screeching as he raked the flimsy metal door.

  “You don’t want to do this, Shawn.” Russ’s voice was low, calm, and persuasive. “What happened with William and Anna is ancient history, but if you kill us, both you and your father will go to prison for the rest of your lives.”

  “I’m not stupid.” Shawn spat a stream of saliva on the dirt at his feet. “The second you two walk outta here, you’ll go straight to the cops.”

  “Don’t do this. Please. We won’t tell anyone.” She fought for breath through her tight throat. “I promise.”

  “Maybe we should think about this, son.” JD stumbled down the steps, almost falling, but he gripped the railing and managed to stay upright. “Maybe there’s another way outta this.”

  “We’re done thinking. I’m not going to jail.” Shawn motioned with the gun. “Get moving.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” Russ said. “If we don’t show up at our motel, people are going to wonder where we are. We took the ferry over. There’ll be a record of our trip. Your neighbor, what’s his name, Randy? He knows we’re here. He’ll tell the cops, and they’ll come looking.”

  “We keep to ourselves on this island. No one’s gonna tell anyone anything.” A cruel smirk lifted the corners of Shawn’s mouth. “Besides, they can look all they want. No one’s gonna find you, or that fancy car of yours.”

  Otis’s frenzied barking filled the night. The screen door banged as he lunged, fighting to reach them.

  “That’s right. Your dad’s an expert at hiding bodies. Aren’t you, JD?”

  Ice flowed through her veins. They had to escape. They couldn’t stand there waiting to be killed. She searched the dark yard for something—anything—she could use as a weapon. A stack of split firewood was piled under the eaves along the side of the trailer. If she could grab one of those chunks of wood, maybe she could throw it at Shawn and knock the gun out of his hand. She gulped.

  She hadn’t thrown a ball in years, but she had to act, and soon. She gauged the distance to the wood pile. Could she reach the stack before Shawn pulled the trigger? She slid Russ a glance.

  His face looked as if it was carved from stone. His body bristled, and his muscles bunched, hands tightened into fists, ready to strike.

  Shawn and JD were focused on Russ and seemed to have forgotten her. Now was her chance. Inhaling a deep breath, she inched sideways, one slow step at a time.

  Shawn didn’t shift his attention from Russ.

  Another inch. And another.

  A few more steps, and she’d be able to reach the wood. She shuffled another foot.

  “Just where the hell do you think you’re goin’, Maggie?” JD asked.

  Her heart stopped beating. “I…I—”

  The trailer door blasted open in an explosion of animal, and Otis scrambled across the deck. With a single bound, one hundred and ten pounds of angry dog went airborne, and he rocketed past JD and into Shawn.

  The gun fired in a deafening blast. Splinters of wood and plastic sprayed where the bullet embedded into the side of the trailer.

  Too terrified to move, Athena stood, rooted to the spot.

  Otis’s paws dug into Shawn’s thighs and chest, his teeth ripping at exposed flesh.

  The man stumbled back, bellowing, swinging blindly with the gun. He crashed onto the ground, the dog snarling on top.

  Russ lunged into the fray, seizing the gun out of Shawn’s grip, and tossing the deadly weapon into the dark.

  Swearing and gasping, Shawn grabbed Otis’s collar and flung the dog aside.

  Otis landed with a heavy thud and yelped.

  Her blood ceased moving, her insides turning to concrete.

  Russ tackled Shawn, and the two men wrestled, rolling over and over on the packed dirt.

  Otis scrambled to his feet and charged. His teeth clamped onto Shawn’s arm.

  Shawn howled and punched Otis in the side.

  Otis’s cry of pain freed her from her paralysis. Adrenaline fired through her veins, and she fumbled among the weeds for the gun. Her hands shook as she grasped the weapon and lifted it, struggling to keep it steady, surprised at its weight. “Stop.” Her voice was a thin whisper. She swallowed. “Stop!”

  Russ clutched Shawn’s shirt collar, drew back his fist, and punched the bearded man in the face.

  Shawn’s head bounced back, striking the ground with a loud whack. His eyes widened, went blank, and he groaned and collapsed in an unmoving heap.

  Movement on the deck caught her eye, and she swung the gun toward JD.

  He held his hands up. “Don’t shoot, Maggie.”

  Arms trembling, she lowered the gun.

  JD nodded at Shawn sprawled on the dirt and mud. “You didn’t hurt him, did you?” Tears glistened in his eyes as he stumbled down the steps and crouched beside his unconscious son. He cradled the man’s lolling head in his arms.

  She dropped the gun and flew to Russ. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  Russ staggered to his feet. His chest heaved, and his face glistened with sweat. Crimson drops stained his shirt. “I’m fine.” He clasped her close. “Are you all right?”

  Tears blurred her eyes, and she burrowed into his arms.

  Otis whined, and she pulled free of Russ’s embrace.

  The dog sat before her, his front leg raised, and whined again.

  “Poor Otis. You’re hurt.” She fell to her knees.

  The dog whined piteously and licked her face.

  “Let me take a look.” Russ knelt before Otis and examined his paw. “It’s not bleeding, and I don’t think it’s broken. He must have bruised his paw in the fight.” He petted Otis on the head. “Good boy. You saved the day.”

  Otis’s tail thumped the ground.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “You’re a hero, Otis. You saved us. Good
boy.”

  “Lucky dog.” A teasing glint shone in Russ’s golden eyes.

  She looked up, and her heart stuttered. Blood-spattered, bruised, his hair a riot of wild curls, his shirt sweat stained and torn, he was everything she’d ever wanted, everything she’d dreamed of.

  Tears filled her eyes, blinding her. She loved him, but because of that love, she had to walk away.

  To protect him.

  From her.

  She was damaged, and he deserved so much better. She loved him enough to want him to be happy. Blinking back tears, she pasted a bright smile on her face. “You did all right too, Russ. I guess that makes you a hero.” She swore she heard her heart shatter when his face lit up, and he grinned.

  Chapter 41

  Russ steered the Minerva through the marked buoys and tucked into the small bay on the leeward side of Sewell Island.

  Athena stood in the bow, staring out at the sea. Her hair flamed in the morning sunshine. She’d lost weight and was too thin. His heart ached at the dejected slump of her shoulders and her seeming frailty. A strong gale would blow her over.

  Two weeks had passed since the incident with JD and his son. The police had arrested the pair and charged JD with one count of second-degree murder for the death of William O’Flynn.

  Shawn was charged with two counts of attempted murder and possession of an illegal substance for the purpose of trafficking. Father and son were in custody awaiting trial and looking at spending the next decade or so in prison. Maybe, if they were lucky, they’d get to share a cell—a real father-son bonding experience.

  Police investigators had travelled to Sewell Island and found William and Anna O’Flynn’s graves exactly where JD had said they were. They’d dug up the bodies and transported them to the morgue at the Vancouver General Hospital and conducted autopsies. JD had told the truth. Anna O’Flynn died from drowning, and William O’Flynn’s skull had been crushed by a blunt object.

  When the police arrived at JD’s trailer on Hornby Island, Russ and Athena had been separated and taken back to the mainland, where they’d been questioned for hours. He hadn’t seen or heard from her until last week.