by Pamela Tracy
Finally, food devoured and most of the dishes cleaned up, the chill of the night air sent them inside, and Lydia asked the question, “How is Chief Riley?”
Brian, who’d been bringing Trudy a glass of water, stopped but didn’t look at Leann when she answered, “He’s out of danger and should be released any day now.”
“When will he return to work?” Russell queried.
“We’re not sure. Gary’s brother is acting chief right now.”
Brian sat next to his daughter, no emotion on his face.
“We will make this right,” Russell said. “Help with food and bills.”
“Insurance will—” Brian began.
“Common decency and restitution are of the heart,” Russell said. “You need to have courage, strength and know how to sacrifice before you can truly stand proud as a man.”
“Where did you hear that?” Brian asked, smirking.
Lydia cleared her throat loudly. Surprisingly, Brian stopped.
“Courage, strength, sacrifice. It’s a mantra from my boot camp days,” Gary added to the conversation for the first time.
“You have a daughter to raise,” Russell told Brian. “Children change everything. You’ll need all the courage and strength you can muster.”
Trudy looked uncomfortable and Leann wondered what all the girl had gone through before landing with her father.
“Speaking of children changing everything,” Gary said, “Leann spoke to Willow Bartholomew today. She said she was under the assumption that Roberto Guzman was the man sending monthly payments for your upkeep.”
“Told you,” Brian grumped, sounding a whole lot like Gary. Leann checked to see if Gary noticed. He hadn’t.
“Thing is,” Gary said, “my father was an auto mechanic with four children. He wouldn’t have a thousand dollars a month to spare. It makes no sense.”
“Like I said, I never met Roberto,” Brian told them, “and I barely remember my mother. I’m not sure she ever sang to me, read to me or anything else.”
“She didn’t do that for us either,” Jace said.
“She was too busy trying to meet the right people,” Lydia added, “and become a star.”
Not unlike my parents, Leann thought, except they had to control the right people and remain stars.
Trudy spoke for the first time. “No one’s ever read to me.”
“I’ll read to you,” Russell said.
Lydia laughed and said, “He’ll read you all the Walter Farley books.”
“I read them to Angela,” Russell remembered. “But, she never loved them like you two did. From the time she was little, she was always looking past the sunrise, not at it, except when she painted it.”
“Think of all that she missed,” Lydia mused.
“Like us,” Jace said.
“I like reading about other worlds. Dystopian novels.”
Leann wasn’t sure if Russell knew many dystopian YA novels. Didn’t matter because he said, “I’ll read ’em.”
Brian remained silent.
“You know,” Leann said, looking at Brian, “it’s interesting how you’d never met any of your family, but you knew what this place looked like because Angela drew it.”
“Yes, she’d even drawn the little cemetery in the back with the graves.”
“You also said you knew what your father looked like because she drew him. Gary, why don’t you show him a photo of your father.”
Gary took out his cellphone, found the photo his mother had messaged him, and handed it to Leann, who passed it to Brian.”
“Speaking of photos,” Leanne continued. “We found one of Angela, all dressed up, in Berto’s wallet...”
“That won’t mean anything,” Russell spoke up. “I know the photo you mean. She was so proud, she handed those out to everyone. He probably tucked it in his wallet to be kind and then forgot about it.”
The room was quiet while Brian studied it. “This man was in the book, usually standing by some old vehicle or in your cabin.”
“My father,” Gary said.
“But,” Brian said, “this man is not my father.”
Gary dropped the iced tea he’d been holding. The glass didn’t break but hit the floor and bounced. Liquid spread rapidly along with a cascade of ice cubes.
“Where is this book?” Gary paid no attention to the iced tea, or anything else but Brian.
“I’ll clean it up,” Lydia whispered.
“We lost the book. I told you. And how do I know? Well, when Angela drew your father, he was always doing something like working on a truck, or riding a quad, and once she drew him riding a horse. I liked that one. The man,” Brian said tersely, “who fathered me was always drawn dressed nicely and Angela often put herself in the drawing.”
“Angela never drew herself,” Russell said.
“Well, I assume the woman with black hair, shadowed face and pregnant belly was my mother. The blurry face looked a little like I remembered her.”
“She did smudge out faces sometimes.” Russell stood, slowly walked out of the room and came back with a framed drawing that he showed to Brian. “Did it look like this?”
“Yes.”
“You said ‘we.’ We lost the book. Who is we?” Leann asked.
Brian looked at Trudy.
“I lost our backpack when we were sleeping in the park,” she admitted.
Leann almost jumped up from her chair. “The park next to the library?”
Trudy nodded.
“Was the backpack big, brown canvas, faded black in spots?”
This time both Trudy and Brian nodded.
“That was turned in to the station days ago. I remember when Lucas looked through it. He said there was a book of drawings, but no name.”
Five minutes later, the entire party loaded into three different vehicles and all headed into town. The only one to hesitate was Jace, who’d said the least during the evening, and who now looked resigned.
Jace drove Russell’s truck with Brian and Trudy in front. Gary drove his own truck with Russell beside him. Leann drove her vehicle with Lydia next to her. Even as she contacted the station, alerting them that she’d found the owner of the backpack and they were on their way, she couldn’t help but think they were a most unusual caravan.
“This is all so amazing,” Lydia said. “I keep looking at Brian and Jace and thinking how sad I am for Brian.”
“I could never leave one of my children behind. They’re with their father tonight, for the first time in years, and it’s all I can do to keep from calling every few minutes.”
“I vowed that my children would know they were loved.” Lydia took out her cell phone. Leann was pretty sure she was scrolling through family photos. “I’ve always said that my childhood began when we meet Russell. Not only did he see that we had everything thing we needed, but he gave of himself. I didn’t marry until I was almost thirty. Took me that long to find a man who was like my grandfather, a man I trusted.”
Leann almost said she was still looking for that kind of man, but that was no longer true. Gary was that kind of man. She needed to tell him. But now wasn’t the time, so she changed the subject. “Jace seems a little distant. Has he shared why he left and never came back?”
“He’s battling with himself,” Lydia said. “Twice I’ve seen him next to grandfather, looking like he has something to say, and both times he walked away. I think having a half brother flummoxes him. He keeps asking Brian the same questions you have. Funny thing, though, when Brian mentioned your name, Jace clammed up.”
So, Leann wasn’t imagining Jace’s hesitance when it came to her. “What do you mean? Think it bothered him knowing that a cop was coming over tonight?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t for the life of me figure it out.”
Leann and Gary arri
ved first. Jace pulled up a few seconds later. When they walked through the entrance, Zack waved them back. “Oscar’s in his office.”
She still wasn’t used to hearing Chief Riley’s office referred to as Oscar’s. She went in first, with Gary just behind. The Blackgoat clan followed. The builders must not have taken into consideration numbers because nine people crowded around the police chief’s desk and filled the room to capacity.
“Did you open it?” Brian asked.
“No,” Oscar said. “I waited.”
Brian picked up the backpack, unzipped it and then Trudy stopped him. Carefully, she placed the backpack on the desk and tilted it, removing a black sweater, a half-full bag of cookies, two young adult books, two full bottles of water, a box of tissues, a pocketknife, an apple and finally a dark brown leather book about an inch thick.
“That’s Angela’s,” Russell said. “I used to buy the drawing books special at the Founders’ Day craft fair. She’d do a dozen thumbnail drawings first and then if she liked a drawing enough, she’d redo it in her book. She filled a lot of them.”
“Do you have any others?” Leann asked.
“No, she took them with her when she left.”
Brian opened the book, thumbed about three-fourths of the way through and then handed it to Gary. Leann shifted so she stood close to him.
The drawing was near a beach and two people stood in the sand. Angela’s face was smudged as Russell foretold, vague facial details, but her long hair was distinctive. She was barefoot and wore a flowered dress that didn’t meet her knees but flowed out thanks to her pregnancy bump.
“Mom hated to wear shoes,” Jace said, looking over Gary’s other shoulder.
The man was shown in detail. He was older, probably in his thirties, of average height, with a full head of hair. He had a half smile Leann recognized.
“That’s not my father,” Gary stated, starting to hand the open book to Oscar, but Leann took it, staring at the button-down shirt, the two pens in the right pocket and the oversize watch on the man’s right wrist.
The room was too crowded. Leann couldn’t breathe. She moved away from Gary, turning, but she stopped because Jace’s was looking at her, such an expression of pain and sympathy on his face that she had to ask the question. “You knew?”
He nodded.
“Knew what?” Gary asked, looking from her to Jace and back again.
“That the man in the drawing isn’t your father,” Leann whispered. “He’s mine.”
* * *
TRUST, THOUGHT GARY, was a powerful friend but its absence was an equally powerful enemy. He’d already figured out that Leann trusted very few people: she trusted his brother Oscar and she trusted Russell.
He’d hoped, based on the last few days, that he’d made the cut. But, she wasn’t coming to him. Instead, she was sitting at Oscar’s desk, Oscar at her side, busy asking questions with Oscar acting as her wingman.
Gary wanted the job. No, not job: honor, privilege.
Instead, he buried the urge to push Oscar aside and simply stood, watching events unfold, a spectator.
“How long have you known that my father was with your mother?” Leann asked.
Jace reached inside his jacket and pulled out a book that looked exactly like the one Leann held. “Well, I found this in one of Russell’s hiding places when I was a senior in high school.”
“Which hiding place?” Russell asked.
“The floorboard near the end of my bed.”
Russell nodded. “I’d forgotten about that one. Why didn’t you come to me?”
Jace shifted uncomfortably. “I wish I had, but I was young and stupid. All I could think about was Clark Crabtree, all loud and always boasting—” He interrupted himself, said sorry to Leann, and continued. “I thought it would bring him down a peg.”
“You showed him the drawing?” Russell was incredulous.
Leann had pretty much the same expression on her face.
“Grandfather, I am so sorry. I’ve regretted the action every day of my life.” Jace opened the book to an area where only a jagged tear remained. “There was a drawing of Ted Crabtree and my mother. The one Clark took was of her back, but I knew it was her. So did he. She had her arms around Mr. Crabtree and he had his chin on her shoulder.”
“Why didn’t you show the book to me?” Lydia asked.
“Because Clark annoyed me, bullied me, so I went right to him. I wanted to bring him down a peg. I’ve never seen him so mad. He grabbed the book. I didn’t let go. He managed to tear out the drawing.”
“Did Clark do anything with the drawing? Is that why you never came home again?” Leann asked. “Makes no sense. Clark never said a word.”
“Oh, he had plenty of words,” Jace said. “And so did your father.”
“My father?” Leann exclaimed. “Clark went to our father?”
“I’d had an ROTC event after school that day. Then, the truck didn’t start. Grandfather’s place was so far from town, so I started walking. I’d stick out my thumb once I got to the main road. Turns out, I didn’t have to. Your dad showed up. Clark was with him.”
“I can’t even picture that. My father and brother didn’t do anything together.”
“I thought they were going to beat me up. Instead, your father did something worse.”
Russell and Leann both tensed.
Jace went on, “Mr. Crabtree said he’d make sure Grandpa lost everything, all the Blackgoat land, if I so much as told one person.”
“How did he know you hadn’t told me?” Lydia asked.
“You were gone, in college. Even if I told you, you’d not have seen the drawing, so it would be hearsay. That’s what Mr. Crabtree said. I believed him. Man, I wish everyone had cell phones back then. I’d have already told you, but—”
“He couldn’t take my land,” Russell sputtered.
“You didn’t have the money to fight him!” Jace insisted.
“I have money, friends and right on my side—then and now. Believe me, that man would have a fight on his hands.”
“I couldn’t take a chance, Grandfather. You’d done so much for Lydia and me.”
“You mean to tell me...” Russell shook his head. “...that Ted Crabtree is the reason you’ve not come home all these years?”
Jace nodded.
Leann’s head was in her cupped hands. Gary knew she wasn’t crying. No, she was too used to internalizing her sorrow and anger.
“Leann, your dad offered to buy the Guzman cabin forty-some years ago.”
Forty years ago, Leann’s dad probably wanted the cabin next door so that he and Angela could meet up easily.
“You know that Clark left, right?” Leann looked up and asked Jace.
“Grandfather told me. I just figured it was because of college and working someplace else.”
“Clark never comes back either, and he rarely talks to any of us.”
“Anything change at your house? Did your father ever—”
Leann interrupted Jace. “Nothing changed at my house except that Clark left, I left and my sister went a little wild.” Leann rose. “I will take care of this.”
“What will you do?” Gary asked. “Are you going to confront your father?”
Leann looked at him. He recognized the faint first sign of tears threatening to fall, but they were shored up by a will so strong that no one else would see her sorrow. Gary hated that she’d had to be so tough. He wanted to pull her in his arms and say, “Whatever you want to do, I’ll go with you.” He’d crossed enemy lines, pulled team members from burning buildings and taken in one enthusiastic dog for a man closer than a brother.
They’d not needed to ask for his help. Not really. He’d given it.
Leann didn’t need to ask either.
But, she didn’t trust him enough to let h
im help.
Too bad, because he intended to give it.
For the rest of his life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LEANN DISLIKED RETURNING to the neighborhood of her childhood, a house that wasn’t a home and siblings who’d deserved more than they were given.
When this was over, whatever happened after she confronted her father, she was heading to California to visit her brother and find out the full truth of why he left. She hoped that Clark had realized that he didn’t want to be like their father. Then, when she came back, she’d visit Gail and work on becoming a sister rather than a guardian.
She’d also visit her lawyer, sit next to Ryan and Melanie and work out terms that were best for their boys.
She opened her car door and stepped out, standing in the street in front of her childhood home and not utilizing the circular driveway.
She had no clue what to do.
Tim and Aaron had called to say good-night. They’d enjoyed the evening with their dad and stepmom, and now were fast asleep at their grandparents’. Oh, and they’d assured her they’d finished their homework.
Leann, alone, was out in the darkness, wishing the world was a better place but knowing she could contribute to the well-being of only her portion of the world. She’d made Sarasota Falls a safer place for her boys, her friends, her neighbors and, yes, her family. It should be enough.
But, it wasn’t.
The front porch shimmered, spotlights reflected on fancy, pristine cushioned chairs that no one ever sat on. It was all for show. Not like the chairs on her front lawn that didn’t match, or the ones inside her house that hosted her boys and their friends for pizza nights, video game playing and occasionally homework review.
Her mother’s bedroom light was on. No doubt Allison Crabtree was going over her itinerary for tomorrow. Leann hadn’t a clue about what her mother’s day would be like. Should she have made an effort to try harder to find out?
“I can deal with this,” Leann muttered to herself, yet she didn’t move. Every time, every single time, she was called home to deal with family issues, it was a step into the past that she never wanted to remember, let alone police.