by Nolon King
“There’s no easy way to say this, but this morning dispatch got a call from Maggie saying that her little girl had somehow found Tommy’s pills and OD’d.” Tim swallowed and squeezed her hands. “She’s dead, Mal.”
“No, no, no,” Mal said, tears welling, heart cracking in two, lips trembling.
“She told dispatch she’d killed Tommy and was going to kill herself.”
“No … ” Her voice cracked, the dam breaking. “Is … is she dead?”
Tim nodded.
The dam finally broke. And so did Mal.
Chapter 39 - Victor Forbes
Victor still couldn’t reach his sister.
He’d been calling ever since the news broke and had the distinct feeling he was too late. She was dead already.
He pulled up to the gate outside Kozack’s ranch.
Oliver waited in the dark, bundled in a heavy coat, smoking a cigarette.
Victor rolled down the window.
“That’s him?” Oliver peered into the van.
“Yes.”
“Go on through. Pull the van into the workshop in back.”
Victor could hardly see the workshop, save for the fuzzy lights cutting through the fog ahead. He drove through the open door, parked beside a tractor, then killed the engine. A glance behind him showed his captive was still unconscious. Victor had secured Jasper after knocking him out, then drugged the man to make sure he would never be a problem again. He climbed out of the van.
Oliver entered the workshop then closed the door. “You really stepped in it, eh?”
He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, but Oliver held the keys to his freedom— passage to Mexico and a quarter million in exchange for the man who murdered his son.
“Yes, and thanks for helping me out. I owe you.”
Oliver didn’t respond, stepping past Victor for another glance inside the van. “How do I know he’s the one?”
“Because, as I told you on the phone, he’s a dead man. He blamed your son for his daughter’s suicide. Said he raped her. Went to the police, then faked his death after you pulled strings to snuff the investigation, biding time to exact vengeance.”
“He tell you all that?” Oliver said, studying him.
But Victor had been reading people longer than most and knew with certainty Oliver had already bought his story. The man was desperate for answers, and Victor was handing them over. Now he was negotiating, hoping to whittle the price. Oliver had him over a barrel, powerless, now that he’d delivered Jasper.
BlackBriar issued a response claiming ignorance of the entire fiasco within an hour after the news broke. Whatever evidence there might have been of their involvement was surely gone. Anyone who might ask questions would have already been paid off. Victor was a man without a nation. The fall guy. He might never make it to a trial. BlackBriar could have him killed before he had a chance to testify against the people behind it all.
Oliver smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to change the terms. Well, not entirely.”
“Oh?” Victor braced for whatever he might say next.
“I just have to know — how many famous people were involved in that pedophile ring? Were all the names really released?”
“I haven’t seen the list, but yes, there were quite a few influential people on it.”
“Damn.” Oliver shook his head. “And how did you all keep it secret for so long?”
Victor hadn’t figured Oliver for a gossiper, but he was a powerful man who enjoyed having knowledge that others didn’t. So, Victor would give him some meat to chew on.
He told him how they’d collected evidence to keep anyone from ever going to the authorities. If someone posed a threat, BlackBriar neutralized it.
“You had hit men? You murdered people?”
Victor nodded. “Find me an empire that doesn’t have blood on its hands.”
“Fair enough, but … didn’t you ever feel weird protecting pedophiles?”
“Not my call. I was a good soldier, doing my duty. I thought I was doing good for the first couple years, believe it or not. Once I realized what was happening, I couldn’t leave. Fuckers killed my mother, and probably my sister. They knew all my weaknesses.”
“Damn.” Oliver shook his head. “So, what will you do in Mexico?”
“Try and live a normal life.” Victor wanted to end the conversation. “So, what’s the arrangement? Is someone coming to pick me up? Are you taking me?”
Another voice answered, someone else in the workshop.
Victor turned around to see the former sheriff of Creek County, standing there with a shit-eating grin and a gun aimed at Victor.
“On your knees.”
Victor turned, glaring at Oliver. “We had a deal!”
“On your fucking knees, boy!” Barry shouted.
Oliver smiled at Victor. “Sorry, Mr. Forbes, but it would be a federal crime to help you escape. I’ve worked too damned hard to lose everything aiding someone like you.”
“You motherfucker,” Victor growled.
Barry’s foot found the back of Victor’s knees, sending him to the ground. He was cuffed in seconds, faster than the fat old bastard should be able to move.
Victor swung his leg, knocking Barry back.
Barry’s gun fell to the dirt.
Victor dove for it.
A gunshot boomed behind him. “Stop!”
Victor’s hand fell just short of the pistol as he froze.
Oliver was aiming a pistol at him. “Go ahead, make me a hero.”
Barry stood then finished cuffing Victor. Only after his hands were securely behind him did the former sheriff grab him by the back of his hair and smack him in the face.
“Don’t you ever fucking try that shit again!”
This time, Victor didn’t move.
Barry got on his phone and made another call. “Yes, I’ve got him. Come and get us. Just outside Kozack’s place.”
Victor glared at Oliver, who was lighting two cigars. Victor yelled, “He’s got Jasper Parish in the back of his van! Ask him what he’s gonna to do to him!”
“What’s that?” Barry said. “I didn’t hear ya’, boy. Speak up.”
“Fuck you.”
Oliver looked down at Victor and blew a ring of smoke in his face. “You tell anyone else about Parish, and I’ll make sure your sister is killed.”
What?
Oliver winked and smiled.
Sirens brayed just outside.
Barry grabbed him by his cuffed hands. “Come on.”
Victor had no choice but to obey.
Chapter 40 - Jasper Parish
Jasper knew he was dreaming, but he didn’t want to wake up.
At least in his dreams, his wife and daughter were both alive.
And he was still a good man — an officer of the law.
Once upon a time, things had been normal.
They were driving to a restaurant in West Palm Beach that Carissa had wanted to try.
Jasper looked over at her, and they traded a smile. It ached like only a memory can.
“Dad?” Jordyn said from the back seat.
But Jasper couldn’t talk. He stared into Carissa’s crystalline eyes instead. He should be looking at the road, but he was trying to decipher something in her expression. Her eyes held a secret, and if he was patient enough to decode it, he might find his way back to them both.
“Dad,” Jordyn repeated.
He kept staring, feeling his body moving through space and time.
An acrid odor burned his nostrils.
“Wake up, Dad!”
Jasper woke to the smell of gasoline. He was cold and soaked in fuel, arms bound behind his back. He opened his eyes, recoiled from the sting of gasoline and a bright light shining on him. With effort, he made out a room with metal walls, maybe a shed, and someone else silhouetted in the light before him, sitting in a chair about ten feet away.
Victor?
He remembered finding Spider bleeding
to death. He had to get her help.
Jasper squinted, trying again to see past the blinding light. But that was impossible.
He closed his eyes, pulling at the cuffs binding his wrists behind him.
What does this fucker want? And why did he pour gas on me?
“Do you know who I am, Mr. Parish?”
How does he know my name?
Jasper blinked until he could see something beyond the blur and agony.
The man stepped closer, and he could finally see who was speaking.
Something died in his stomach.
“Oliver Kozack.”
“So, you do,” said the man.
Jasper heard the man shifting something back and forth in his hands. He opened his eyes again but couldn’t see what Kozack was holding.
Something small.
A gun?
A knife?
He heard the man walk toward him.
His eyes shot open, afraid of what Kozack was going to do. Jasper looked to his left and right as his captor turned on a video camera perched on a tripod to his right.
Fucker wants a confession.
“I’ve brought you here to answer some questions.”
“Why’d you pour gas on me?”
“Fail to answer my questions and I’ll be forced to extract them.” He tossed the item in his right hand over to his left.
Jasper finally saw what it was.
Kozack flipped the lid of his metal lighter open and closed. “Where is my son?”
“Who?” Jasper asked.
Kozack glared at him, shoved the lighter in his pocket, then walked over to a bench and returned with a hammer. He brought it down on Jasper’s right knee cap.
Jasper screamed as pain exploded through his body.
Kozack stepped closer.
Jasper wanted him near enough that he could use his legs to attack.
But Kozack was smart enough to stay a safe distance away.
Jasper might’ve been able to launch himself forward, but the torment in his knee made that action impossible. Now, if he tried anything, he’d be lucky to not fall on his face.
He breathed through clenched teeth as Kozack walked toward him, keeping to his side, then pressing the cold metal hammer against Jasper’s cheek, hard enough to hurt his teeth.
“I’m going to ask you again. I suggest you give me a better answer.”
“I don’t know,” Jasper said.
“Wrong answer!” Kozack screamed, raised his hand, then brought the hammer down onto Jasper’s other knee.
“Fuck!” Jasper roared.
Jordyn appeared. “Tell him, Dad.”
“Get out, baby!” he shouted, not wanting Kozack to hurt her.
He wheeled, looked around, then turned back to Jasper. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”
Is he fucking with me?
Why isn’t he attacking Jordyn?
“Get out,” Jasper begged her.
“He can’t see me, Dad. Remember?”
“Remember what?”
And then he did, and the old, familiar sadness washed over him.
He remembered the dream, driving Carissa and Jordyn to West Palm Beach.
God, how he wished he could be with them again.
Even if it meant death.
That would be preferable to a miserable existence like this.
Kozack smacked him across the face. “Hey, Crazy, who the hell are you talking to?”
But Jasper refused to answer.
“Please, Dad. Tell him. He’s going to kill you.”
“Good.” Jasper smiled at Kozack. Then, despite the pain, he started laughing.
Kozack stared, perplexed by his response to torture.
“You can’t kill me,” Jasper whispered.
And Kozack said nothing, narrowing his eyes at Jasper before swinging the hammer at his face.
Jasper didn’t flinch, and the hammer didn’t connect.
He looked Kozack in the eyes and his smile widened. “You can’t kill me. Go ahead. Try.”
“Dad!” Jordyn cried.
“Do it!” Jasper yelled.
Kozack screamed back, “Where is my son?”
Jasper saw a way out of this. A way to end it all and join his family again — assuming there was an afterlife and he wasn’t already on the way to Hell for all he’d done.
Big assumptions, but worth the risk.
“He’s dead,” Jasper said.
Kozack stared at him, the first cracks in his bravery showing.
Another smile. “I killed him.”
Kozack’s lip began to tremble. “Why?”
“Because your son raped my daughter and recorded it. Had someone else rape her, too. Recorded that shit and put it out there for the world to see. After that, my daughter killed herself.”
“No,” Kozack said, shaking his head. “My son would never rape anyone. Your daughter was probably some whore looking for a payday. Fuck my son then try and blackmail him for my money.”
Jasper shook his head, still smiling. “You don’t really believe that. How many sexual assaults have you gotten him out of?”
“Fuck you,” he spat.
“Your son was a monster.”
“Fuck you!” Kozack yelled louder, stepped closer. Raised his hammer over Jasper’s head, ready to strike him dead.
Jasper met his hateful gaze. “Your son was a monster, and I take monsters out of this world.
Kozack struck. But instead of hitting Jasper in the head, the hammer crunched into his shoulder.
The pain was ludicrous, nearly made him black out.
But a hard smack across the face from Kozack brought him back. “Where is my son’s body?”
Jasper wanted him to finish. Wanted to push the fucker over the edge. He smiled, surely more of a grimace — the best he could do through the pain.
“I dunno. A bit of him here, a bit of him there. You’ll never find enough to make a proper ID.”
Kozack screamed and dropped the hammer. It fell to the concrete with a clang. He punched Jasper in the jaw, then the nose, then repeatedly in his face.
The agony was too much, but Jasper had to push Kozack into finishing him off.
“Dad, no! Stop it — don’t push him!”
Oliver pummeled his chest and stomach, even hit Jasper in the balls.
His universe was a torment, but he had to hold on.
Kozack stepped away, staring down at his bloodied fists. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Good idea.” Jasper spat blood through broken teeth. He laughed again, his eyes so swollen he could hardly see Kozack. “That still won’t make your son any less of a monster.”
He heard the lighter’s lid flip again.
Good.
He’s gonna do it. Just another nudge.
“Do you know what Calum said to me before he died?”
Silence.
He could hear Kozack breathing. And crying.
“You wanna know?” Jasper asked again, still smiling.
“What?”
“He said he blamed you for raping my daughter. He told me you were such a disappointment as a father, such a fucking failure, that you ruined him. You made him into the monster I had to kill.”
“You’re lying.” Kozack furiously shook his head. “He never said that.”
Jasper had a flash, a memory, either from Calum or maybe his father.
“Don’t do it, Dad,” Jordyn said.
Jasper laughed. “You wanna know the moment you ruined your boy?”
Kozack said nothing.
Jasper could feel his fear in waves.
“Don’t, Dad. Please.”
“Callum was six or seven. He broke a window on one of your cars. You beat the hell out of him, but that wasn’t what broke him. It was the next day, when you didn’t even ask him if he was okay. Then the next week, when you wouldn’t even look at him. Your son was sobbing when he told me all that and more, begging me to kill you instead of him. Since it was
your fault for making him a monster.”
Jasper couldn’t see Kozack, but he could clearly hear his cries.
Jordyn came closer, touching her father’s shoulders. She might have been looking up at him, but Jasper saw nothing.
He heard the lighter’s lid flipping open again.
“He begged me to kill you before I finished him off. But you know what I said? I told him that his daddy was right, he was a fucking disappointment. All your boy could do was cry. I slit his fucking throat once I got tired of hearing it.”
Kozack screamed and rushed him.
Jasper fell back and slammed his head on the concrete.
The world swam above him.
Jasper just had to let go and welcome his death.
He heard the lighter flick again, then Kozack’s muffled voice. “You know what? I was going to kill you. I wanted revenge. But I don’t want your pain to end. I want you to live with it like I do. Live with loss of your daughter, forever.”
What is he doing?
Is he setting me free?
There was a pause, then a few beeps as Kozack called somebody. “Yes, Sheriff Barry. I’d like to turn in the murderer of my son and Brianna.”
“Hey!” Jasper yelled.
Kozack ignored him.
“Kill me, you pussy!”
Still, Kozack said nothing.
“You’re a pussy just like your fucking son!”
He heard Kozack’s footsteps walking toward him.
Yes! Do it! Finish me!
Pain tore through his head, then Jasper saw the purity of darkness.
Jasper was driving with his wife and daughter again.
The road was clear, the sun hanging bright ahead. Inviting rather than blinding, like a cartoon sun with a big smile, the kind he used to watch with Jordyn when she was still little.
He glanced over at Carissa. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
Carissa leaned in and kissed him.
“Can we get ice cream after dinner?” Jordyn asked, leaning forward from the back seat.
Carissa said, “Of course.”
Jordyn patted his shoulder. He touched her hand as he kept his attention on the road.
Carissa leaned into him, smelling like sweet peas.
They were finally together again.
He turned on the radio, hoping to find some music Jordyn and Carissa could sing along to. But there was no music. Only beeping.