by Kathi Daley
I had to think about that one for a while, but after I did, I got it. Whatever the truth about our father and his history ended up being, Mike and I should be in this together. He was our father, and we’d both been devastated by his death. I realized that his behavior, good or bad, once revealed, would affect us both equally.
Of course, accepting what I had done and apologizing about a million times hadn’t done a thing to repair my relationship with either Mike or Bree, so I decided to set that aside, at least for now, and try to focus on enjoying the weekend. The annual holiday festivities in the small town of White Eagle, Montana, were extensive, and the holiday parade served as the kickoff to the annual fun. In a way, it made no sense to me that the town planned such elaborate outdoor events in December when the weather could range from downright balmy to a total blizzard. But traditions, once established, tended to stick, and someone, at some time, had decided that the town’s Christmas celebration would begin with a holiday parade, followed by a spaghetti dinner and a community gathering, and today was the day.
This year, my mother had been enlisted to act as co-chair for the opening day committee, in addition to the Christmas on Main event she’d inherited when the event planner quit. I supposed being asked to serve as chairperson was an honor of sorts, but it was a lot of responsibility, and Mom had been driving me crazy, worrying about everything that could go wrong, from the weather to a pasta shortage, ever since she’d been drafted to organize the dang thing. It had been snowing off and on all week, but the forecast for tomorrow was clear and sunny, which should help alleviate everyone’s stress level.
My phone rang as I pulled onto the highway heading up the mountain. I had a hands-free device, so I was able to answer.
“Is everything okay?” Tony asked. “I thought you’d be home by now.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I should have called to let you know I was running late. I got behind on my route, and then my boss wanted to discuss holiday hours, which begin next week. It was such a long day, and I’m exhausted, but I’m looking forward to the weekend.”
“Me too. I have dinner ready. I’ll keep it warm.”
“I should be there in about fifteen minutes. The roads are icy, so I don’t want to push it.”
“Take your time. The food will keep. We can even relax with a glass of wine before we eat if you need to decompress.”
“That would be nice.”
Shortly after I turned onto the lake road, I could see the glow from the hundreds of white lights Tony had strung around his property. Making a mental vow to enjoy the weekend and the season, I took in a deep breath to clear my mind. Although I’d seen Tony every single day this week, I felt like I hadn’t spent much time with him. We were both so exhausted by the time the evening came around, we shared mostly silent meals, maybe watched a little TV, then fell into bed with barely a good-night kiss.
Yes, there were good reasons that our lives were so busy and that we’d both become so distracted, but every now and again, we ought to stop to remind ourselves to enjoy the holiday lights.
“I’m home,” I called as I walked in the front door.
“I’m in the kitchen. Go ahead and change out of your uniform. I’ll grab the wine,” he called back.
Sounded good to me, so I greeted Titan, Tang, and Tinder, and then headed up the stairs. God, I was happy to be home. Not only had the tree been lit and the fire started, making the house feel warm and inviting, but whatever Tony was cooking in the kitchen smelled wonderful.
“You look as exhausted as you sounded on the phone,” Tony said after kissing me on the lips and handing me a glass of wine as soon as I came down from changing.
“I am as exhausted as I sound, but I’m also very happy to be home and to have two days off, even if one of them is going to be spent helping my mother.”
“She called today to remind us not to be late.”
I smiled. “I’m sorry. Is she driving you crazy too?”
“Not at all. I love your mom. And I understand why she is frantic. I’m happy to do what I can.”
I supposed it was actually kind of sweet that Mom was so comfortable with Tony that she felt she could make him as crazy as she’d been making me.
“So, how was your day?” I asked after we had settled onto the sofa.
“Productive.”
“That’s good. Do you want to fill me in?”
“Are you sure you want to talk about it right now? We could just relax and let it wait until after we eat.”
“I know. And in theory, that does seem like a good idea, but you know me. It is impossible to turn off this brain if there is a question out there waiting to be answered.”
Tony nodded. He set his glass on the coffee table in front of us.
“As I’ve been doing all week, I spent part of my day digging around into the personal and business affairs of Layton Henderson to try to get a better handle on his relationship with Star’s mother. I know we speculated that perhaps Henderson was Star’s biological father, but somehow that never sat right with me, so I’ve been actively pursuing alternate theories.”
“And?”
“And I found out what Henderson had and continues to have going on in Hungary.”
I swiveled just a bit, so I was facing Tony more directly. “And?”
“And I found evidence that Henderson’s sideline is really more of a passion. It seems that he is interested in artificial intelligence.”
“Artificial intelligence? You mean like robots and stuff?”
“Basically. Initially, Henderson was interested in enhancing and improving the intelligence of his human test subjects by altering elements in their environment. He’d give them specific drug cocktails, or he’d apply a series of rewards and punishments to enhance the learning experience. He was using surgical procedures, restrictive diets, stimulation in vitro. Really anything and everything he could think of to stimulate learning.”
“So, he was some sort of Dr. Frankenstein?”
“I don’t think he ever built a human out of body parts, but he most definitely tried to control the brain function of those on whom he experimented. At some point, he gave up on trying to improve the human mind and turned his attention to the synthetic one, but forty years ago, he was still trying to figure out how to manipulate people to be their intellectual best.”
“Okay, that’s creepy. But what does it have to do with Star?”
Tony leaned forward slightly. “What if Ivana was one of Henderson’s test subjects?”
“You think that Ivana might have been impregnated as part of some sort of experiment, and when she realized that she was pregnant and that her baby was going to be some sort of lab rat, she ran?”
“I think it is possible. So far, I don’t have any evidence to back it up, but I think this is a theory that makes sense.”
“So Henderson or his men weren’t so much after Ivana as they were after Star, but by the time they caught up with her, Ivana had already given birth, and my father whisked the baby to safety.”
“It’s a theory.”
I did like the fact that in this scenario, my dad was the hero and not the monster. “So if, as the evidence suggests, my father did manage to get away with the baby, and whoever was after Ivana and Star knew my dad was with them, Grant Tucker’s life would have been in danger as well. I guess that would explain why he changed his identity and never spoke about his past. But that doesn’t tell us who killed Star or why my dad faked his death years after he saved Star.”
“I’m still working on who killed Star, but it makes sense that if Star was important to Henderson for some reason, he might not have stopped looking for her, which means he might never have stopped looking for Grant Tucker either. Maybe your dad realized at some point that Henderson was still after him, which is why he faked his death fifteen years ago. Maybe he figured that was the only way to get this very rich and very influential man off his back once and for all.”
My hand flew to my mouth.
“And then a bunch of years later, we start digging around in Grant Thomas’s death and all but proved he is still alive.” This was bad. “If Henderson found out about the photos we’d uncovered, he might have begun his own search by hiring Denton to track Dad down.” I gasped. “It is our fault that he is even on Henderson’s radar! It is also our fault that he hired a PI, which caused Denton to realize what he had, which got him killed, and most likely got Star killed too.”
Tony nodded. “I think so. I know it was never our intention to hurt your father, Denton, Star, or anyone else for that matter, but I’m pretty convinced that all this might have been avoided if we’d never gone looking for your father in the first place.”
I closed my eyes and slowly shook my head. “He tried to warn us, but we wouldn’t listen.”
“I know. I feel horrible about the way things turned out.”
I found I had to agree with that, but the theory, as far as theories go, was a lot to swallow. “Even if Henderson did find out that the man who’d hidden the baby he was after was still alive, why did he hire Denton to find him? The man is a billionaire. He must have private security who could have tracked him down.”
“The only thing I can come up with is that Henderson knew that Denton was aware of your father after he started looking for Star’s birth parents. He might have hoped that Denton would lead him to the baby, who, of course, would be all grown up, living with an unknown name and identity by then, so he hired him to find your father. Maybe Henderson thought that your father had stayed in touch with the baby he’d saved all those years ago.”
“But why would Henderson kill Star?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know that he did. It really doesn’t make much sense that he would.”
“Even if Star was conceived as part of some sort of experiment, she seemed perfectly normal,” I added. “She didn’t seem supersmart, nor did she seem to have superpowers. I can’t see how she would be a threat to Henderson or anyone else for that matter, so killing her makes no sense.”
“Yet someone did,” Tony pointed out.
“And you told all this to Mike?”
“I did. Once I figured out the link between Star and Henderson, I felt that I should.”
“I guess Mike knowing is a good thing.” I swallowed hard. “Do you think Mom, Mike, and I are in danger?”
Tony paused and then answered. “Mike and I discussed that. I really don’t think you are. Grant Tucker did appear to be with Star’s mother when she was killed, but that had nothing to do with you or your family. I could be wrong, but I don’t think there is a reason for Henderson to want to harm you. And keep in mind, I’m not saying Henderson harmed Star. Again, I can’t see why he would have. But there is more of a direct link between Star, her mother, and whatever went on forty years ago, than there is between Henderson and you, Mike, and your mom.”
Okay, at least that much was good. Still, if our looking for my dad had resulted in Star’s death, I didn’t see how I’d ever be able to live with myself.
“How do we prove any of this?” I asked.
“I don’t know. As we had all along, it seems that all we really have are a few facts wrapped up in a whole lot of speculation. If the records we need to prove this even exist, it won’t be easy to access them.”
“Should we even try?”
“Again, I’m not sure. I already feel really responsible, and I wouldn’t want our digging around to result in any more deaths.”
Tony was right. There was more at stake here than my curiosity about my father’s whereabouts since his supposed death. “Do you think my dad was somehow involved with whatever Henderson was doing, assuming, of course, that Henderson really is the bad guy in all this and not just the subject of a story we are telling ourselves, or do you think he was just some guy Ivana knew who agreed to help her?”
He shrugged. “I’m sure I can find additional information if I keep digging. So far, I haven’t had the feeling that anyone has even noticed my hacks, but the reality is that it is only a matter of time until someone does. If I continue, I’ll be taking a risk, but if I don’t, we’ll never have our answers.”
Tony made a good point. This was definitely complicated. “What does Mike think?”
“He wanted to sleep on it. We’re going to talk tomorrow. I think he is curious, as am I, but he also realizes the danger in alerting Henderson that we might know something he doesn’t want us to.”
“I guess sleeping on it is as good a strategy as any. We could stay up all night going over things again and again, but we need to be alert and energetic for Mom tomorrow, and it won’t do us any good to show up exhausted. Besides, if Henderson is behind Star’s death, I’m not confident that anyone who digs too deeply won’t end up the same way she did.”
Chapter 7
Saturday, December 14
I woke up to a bright, sunny sky, which was nice after the series of storms we’d been having all week. Of course, a bright, sunny sky meant that it was later in the morning than I had planned to sleep. Why had Tony let me stay in bed this long? My mom was going to be furious if we were late.
As tempting as it was to lay around in bed all day, I knew I had to get up, so I let my legs slide over the side of the bed. I pulled on a robe and headed toward the kitchen.
“There she is,” Tony said to Tilly, who looked relieved to see me.
“What time is it? Why did you let me sleep so long?”
He handed me a cup of coffee. “It’s nine o’clock, and we’re fine. I fed and walked the dogs, cleaned the cat boxes, and made you a breakfast sandwich you can eat on the way. You showered last night, so all you need to do is pull on some clothes, and we can go.” He held up a thermos. “I even have coffee refills for the drive down the mountain.”
I couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to be pampered. “Thanks for taking care of everything. And it was nice to sleep in, and I do feel better. Just give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be ready.”
“I’m going to head out to start the truck so the engine can warm up, but take your time. As long as we leave by nine-thirty, we’ll be fine. The parade doesn’t start until eleven, so arriving at ten will still be considered early in my book.”
“It will. I’ll hurry.”
Tony put on a station that played Christmas music twenty-four-seven between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. It was nice to have that option, but I did wonder if the DJs weren’t just a little bit crazy by the time January 1st came around. I mean, there were only so many Christmas songs, and listening to them over and over again must get really old. Of course, I suppose you had the same problem if you worked at a Top 40 station.
“I thought we might walk through the shops in town after the parade, but before the dinner,” Tony suggested. “I noticed everyone has their window displays up.”
“That sounds like fun, and there will be a break between the two events. I’ve been wanting to stop by the holiday store.”
“Maybe we can get you a tree topper. I noticed you didn’t have one. We can get the replacement bulbs we need for the outdoor lights as well.”
“The bulbs are fine, but that’s a no to the tree topper. It has become the Thomas family tradition not to have one.”
Tony raised a brow. “Why?”
“When Mike and I were kids, Mom took charge of making sure the tree got decorated. Mike and I helped, but it was Mom who lugged the decorations down from the attic and strung the lights on the tree. My dad never participated at all until the tree was done, and he’d put the angel on the top. He did it every year. It was his thing. If he wasn’t home, we’d wait to add the angel until he got there.”
Tony found a parking spot in the lot closest to where the parade would begin. I continued my story as he manipulated his way into the tight space.
“That first year after Dad died, no one wanted to put the angel on the tree. Mike and I thought Mom should do it, and Mom thought one of us should. In the end, no one did, and we didn’t have an angel t
hat year. Or the next year, or ever again. If you look closely, you will see that Mom’s tree doesn’t have a topper either. Mike never really had a tree before Bree, and I’m not sure what she will decide this year, but I continued the Thomas family tradition and skipped the topper once I moved into my own place and began decorating my own tree.”
“That’s a very touching story,” Tony said as he turned off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt. “And one I think we should continue.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
There were already people mingling around on the street, so after we got out of Tony’s truck, we went searching for my mom.
“Oh good, you’re here,” Mom said when Tony and I found her. “Santa never showed up, and the parade is going to start in less than an hour. Thankfully, Santa is last in the procession, so we have time to get him in the lineup if we can track him down, but we do need to find him, and fast.”
“Is Colton Davenport playing Santa again this year?” I asked.
“He is.”
Colton Davenport owned a furniture store of sorts. He didn’t deal in new furnishings but rather in refurbished items, some valuable and some fairly commonplace. I knew that he lived just outside of town on a small ranch that had space for his workshop. He owned two horses and an antique sleigh he’d refurbished himself and had been acting as Santa for more years than I could remember.
“Colton has been doing this a long time,” I reminded my mother. “He knows the drill. I’m sure he’ll turn up.”
“I hope so, but he has never been this late before. Can you run over to his place to see what’s keeping him?”
“Yeah, we can do that,” I said to Mom. “I’ll call you if there is a problem.”
Mom looked toward the street, where those participating in the parade were lining up. “Okay, but hurry. The kids will be so disappointed if there is no Santa to bring up the rear.”