Play ignorant. “What do you mean, Dad?”
“Just like that day I tried to work with Roman on Sidney’s eulogy. His mind’s always on you like you’re the center of his universe. At the restaurant, same thing.”
“He’s playing bodyguard.” She shot a glare at her father. “You’re the one who ordered him not to leave my side.”
Jan caught a smile of satisfaction from her father. Still, he growled out his next words, “He seems obsessed, Janny.”
“Really?” Jan said, liking the idea even though she didn’t believe it. “What makes you think so?”
“Well, for one thing, he’s following us to Madeline’s.”
“What?” Jan said, feeling goose bumps rise on her arms. She squinted into the rear view mirror and saw a gray Camry and a big black SUV. No Beemer in sight. “Where is he?” she asked.
At the stoplight, she turned to her father. “You sure he’s behind us?”
The General nodded, looking smug. “And I think I saw him the day we met up with Tess and her brother.”
When the light turned green, Jan eased slowly into the traffic, feeling unhinged when she remembered sensing Roman’s presence that day. He knows I met with Tess. My God, maybe he slept with me so I’d tell him about Tess.
She wanted to look more closely at the cars following her, but the task of driving on the busy streets of San Luis Obispo prevented it. “Are you positive, Dad?”
“Positive he’s following us today. Almost certain he tailed us the other day.” The General cleared his throat. “You still think it’s all about bodyguard duty?”
Jan shook her head. “You were with me both days, Dad. Roman had no reason to double team.” She slammed the steering wheel with her palm. “He wants the story. He’s obsessed with it, not me.”
When she felt his hand on her arm, she forced herself to calm down. “It’s okay. At least he’s predictable. Always after the dirt.” Taking a right turn on Foothill, she skirted the Cal Poly University campus and looked for the turn to the Barker’s house.
“Two blocks more, then a left, Janny.”
“Thanks,” she said taking a deep breath. “Enough of Roman. Let’s figure out how to deal with Madeline. I hope she’s alone. If she’s not, we’ll have to make an excuse to speak to her in private.”
“You do the talking, Janny. I’ll nod, repeat important points and glare when needed.”
She pulled into the driveway, shut off the engine and faced her father. “Madeline’s going to be devastated when she hears what we have to say. This feels awful.”
They got out of the car, with Jan holding Elwood, and scanned the street looking for Roman’s Beemer. No sign of it. With a shrug, Jan moved toward the front steps, but the General reached for Jan’s arm, stopping her. “Think of it this way, Janny. Madeline needs her kids, now, more than ever. Until she accepts the truth about Cliff Barker and cancels the memorial, her children will be lost to her.”
She nodded, preparing to walk to the door, but her father’s grip on her arm tightened. Puzzled, she looked at the General. “What, Dad?”
“I know what it’s like to almost lose a kid, Janny.”
“Dad, you…”
He gripped tighter. “I need you in my life, sweetheart.” He swallowed, seeming unable to embellish his statement. When he’d cleared his throat, he said, “Let’s make sure Madeline gets her kids back, too.”
Jan leaned over to kiss her father on the cheek. She smiled when she said, “Aye, aye, sir.”
****
Tailing Big Ears was easy this time. Roman knew Jan and her father’s destination but Big Ears probably didn’t, so Roman’s only job was to keep his Beemer two or three cars behind the big black car. He made the turn to Foothill Boulevard, three cars behind the SUV, mulling over his strategy. If he could get the man to admit to being payrolled by the mayor, or find some evidence to prove the mayor employed the goon, Roman would have the story of the year.
He squeezed the steering wheel. “And that’s why I’m here, Jazz. This is what I do.”
Still, as he watched the SUV take a turn and park on a side street, he felt a palpable crack in his confidence. He’d never jumped in on a case when his antagonists threatened harm. Big Ears and the men who’d roughed up the General were dangerous people. My dumpster diving caused this. He shrugged, dismissing any thought of returning to Bella’s house. If anything happened to Jan or her father because of him, he’d never forgive himself.
Adrenaline pumping, Roman watched the Volvo turn into a driveway. The SUV slowed and took a right hand turn at the end of the block. Roman eased into a parking spot well beyond the Barker driveway, put on sunglasses and left his car.
Empty street, no pedestrians. Good. Roman considered his empty hands. Bad. No weapon. Completely vulnerable. How did he expect to save Jan unprepared?
He trotted to the front of the Barker home, stopped and pretended to consult his phone, an excuse to survey the property. While the Barker’s landscaping obscured most of the house, he spied Jan’s white Volvo parked in the turn-around.
Where was Big Ears?
Strolling to the side street, Roman spied the SUV. Looked empty. Damn, the guy had snuck up to the house already.
He sprinted to the car, alert for prying eyes. None. He tried the passenger door. Locked. He ran to the driver’s door and pulled on the latch. Yes!
The seat was piled with napkins, cigarettes, chips, fast food wrappings, and porn magazines. Motorcycle helmet. One of the General’s muggers from the Euc forest? The motorcyclist who tried to run Jan down on El Campo and left her lying in a faint at the side of the road? You piece of shit.
A search through the rubble came up with a cell phone. He pocketed it, jogged to the front of the Barker’s house and sidled behind a tree on the corner of the property.
Now he had to find a weapon, locate Big Ears, and make sure the turkey left his girl alone.
“My girl?” Roman mumbled, chiding himself. “If she were my girl, I’d be inside that house, at her invitation. Instead, I’m hiding behind bushes on the outside looking in.”
Again.
****
Madeline Barker’s exuberant welcome distressed Jan so much, she couldn’t sit down. When the woman excused herself to get coffee, the General made a beeline for the biggest chair in the living room. Too jumpy to sit, Jan paced in front of the picture window, mentally fortifying herself for the battle ahead.
The urge to run, to leave this place and the inevitable conflict and pain, was so strong that Jan flexed her hand, gripping her imaginary suitcase. She glanced at her father, sitting calmly next to the fireplace, absentmindedly stroking Elwood. Her brothers had inherited the battle gene from this man. Why hadn’t she?
She took note of Elly’s quiet demeanor. The dog hadn’t growled at Madeline since their arrival. Great. That left the dirty work to her.
Silently she cursed Cliff Barker, a man who cared more for politics than his family. He was the cause of this tragic state of affairs and she resented the hell out of him.
“Janny?” The General squinted at her.
“I’m okay, Dad.” She smoothed the front of her dress and centered her diamond necklace. “I may not be battle-ready, but if I keep Tess and her sibs lined up in my mind, I think I can do this.” And maybe if I help them, I won’t hear children crying in my faint dreams anymore.
The General leaned forward in the chair. “Of course you can.”
She squared her shoulders, a soldier preparing for a mission.
At the sound of dishes rattling, Jan and her father looked toward the kitchen. Movement outside the dining room’s double French doors caught her attention. Elwood’s ears perked and he barked while he trotted to the window wall of the huge dining area.
“Dang dog,” the General groused.
“You know, Dad. I think it’s time we paid attention to Elly. When he’s agitated enough not to track shadows, that means something. If Roman’s out there, Elly wouldn�
��t be barking. Maybe someone else could have followed us here.”
The General shot out of the chair. “I’ll keep watch.”
“Take my phone, dad. Call 911 if you have to. I’ll keep Elly with me on his leash so he doesn’t get into trouble.”
She thought of Roman and his obsession for facing reality. The truth freed people, he’d say. Well, Jan was going to start paying attention to her dreams and her dog. And it was time for Madeline Barker to see her husband for who he was, or, like the General said, she’d never get her children back.
I’ve spent my life dancing away from truth with Frank as my partner in crime.
Another gaze out the window brought Roman to mind a second time. How would he handle Madeline if he were here? She recalled the series of interviews she’d observed him conduct. Charming and earnest. Firm. A truth seeker.
She took a breath, feeling better now that she had Roman’s technique in mind, just as Madeline arrived with a tray of coffee and cookies. Jan marveled at how trim the widow looked in her sweater and trousers, pearls dangling from her ears and three strands of pearls draped perfectly around her neck. The woman’s face was a study in graciousness; she seemed delighted to serve them. Now that Jan understood what secrets the woman carried, Jan wondered about the energy it must take for Madeline to carry on a normal life. Even now, she barely registered the fact that the General stood guard in the dining room, alert for whatever danger lurked in the back yard. A father protecting his daughter.
How can I have sympathy for a mother who failed to protect her children?
Jan cleared her throat, summoning courage and purpose. “How nice of you, Madeline. Dad and I were just saying how good a cup of coffee would taste. We’ve had a busy morning working a memorial for another client.”
Madeline distributed the coffee and sat on the couch, her own cup in hand. Jan took a seat opposite her and the General remained between the dining room and the living room, on sentry duty. While they drank, they discussed the weather.
Jan set down her coffee. Get on with it. “Remember we told you our first obligation as planners is to the survivors of the deceased?”
She nodded, her smile fading.
“We design memorials that help family members move on, improving their lives in some way.”
Madeline was silent.
Jan took a deep breath while she rested her hand on Elly’s head, sensing tension there. Or was the anxiety her own? “If we let Cliff’s memorial go on, your children will suffer.”
Color drained from Madeline’s face. “No they won’t. I want—”
With her palm up, Jan said, “Hear us out, please.” When the woman settled in her chair, Jan went on. “We know the mayor’s extremely supportive of this big memorial. In fact, he has a vested interest in the event. Did you know he’s going to announce he’s taking your husband’s place as a candidate for State Senator?”
She looked shocked. “At a funeral? He wouldn’t do that when we’re honoring Cliff. I can’t believe…”
“It’s true. He’s got the newspapers all lined up, telling them to expect a special announcement on Saturday morning. We found out he’s filed for the office and he’s planning a rally on Saturday night.”
“How did you…?”
“Dad and I are in the business, with our ears to the ground. He’s got caterers ready to serve food, and he’s hired a band to play in a restaurant we used for another event. People talk, Madeline. This is a small town, with so few secrets.”
“How dare he…” she started, befuddled.
“I’m sure he’ll be subtle so he doesn’t come off as a blatant opportunist. He’ll rave about your husband’s qualities, then, seeming humble, so unworthy, he’ll vow to lead Cliff’s causes. He’ll maintain he’s picking up a great man’s fallen baton. But make no mistake, he’ll use the occasion as a platform.”
Madeline put a hand to her forehead and said, “I won’t let him speak, I—”
Jan interrupted. “The power industry is paying the tab for the rally and it appears they’ll give generously to his campaign. Cliff’s memorial has become vital to Mayor Simpson’s political future. Our point is the mayor’s pushing you to expand the celebration for his own purposes. Your children were willing to support you if you held a small ceremony; you’ve forced them to take extraordinary means to stop this monster of a memorial.”
The widow set her coffee down and put her hands to her face. Her voice muffled, she said, “My children hate me.”
Jan glanced at her father, who nodded, his eyes sad. She continued, keeping her voice quiet but firm. “Your children still care about you, Madeline, but you must let go of the memorial.”
“It’s too late,” she said in a small voice.
“What the mayor has made you do is stage a ceremony focusing on Cliff’s strengths, when we all know the man was terribly cruel to your children. Perhaps you thought a big memorial would erase Cliff’s errors and heal those he hurt. The effect is the opposite on your children. Where once they’d simply turned their backs on their father, you’re forcing them to retaliate. In truth, they preferred to keep Cliff Barker’ cruelties a secret from the world, but now that you’ve decided to tout the man as a hero, they’re willing to stop you by exposing the truth about him.”
Jan glanced at the General. Another nod from him and she continued. “Madeline. Please look at me.”
The woman raised her head from her hands.
“My father has been mugged and Elwood injured by people attempting to stop us from researching Cliff’s history. We can’t prove it, but we think the mayor sent the men who threatened my father. The other day, a motorcyclist tried to run me down when I was taking a walk near my house. Someone came into my house and stole a thumb drive. These people, whoever they are, are determined to stop us from revealing Cliff’s past.” She pointed to the yard behind the dining room. “In fact, we think they might be outside your house right now.”
Noting the shocked expression on Madeline’s face, Jan continued. “My father and I have seen some astonishing medical reports, proof of Cliff’s history of violence against your children. As a result, we’ve promised two things to Tess and Ryan. Number one: keep Cliff’s history of abuse a secret until you and your children are mentally prepared to reveal the truth about him to the world. Number two: cancel the memorial.”
Madeline narrowed her eyes. “You can’t cancel. Not without my approval.”
“It’s true aborting the event would be less confusing if your signature were on the announcement, but I could make it pretty difficult for you to carry on. I’d get out of the church and food contracts and let the singers and the ensemble go. Plus I have e-mails of all attendees. I’d persuade every speaker and mourner that the memorial has been canceled.”
Madeline’s eyes rounded. “The money! At this late date, we’d still have to pay.”
Jan shook her head. “My contracts have exit clauses, worded just so.” She looked at her watch. “In one hour, I can pull the plugs. We’ll lose a few modest deposits, which my father and I will cover.”
“How would I explain all this to the mayor?”
“You won’t. I will. I’ll say your family has decided to mourn in private, in seclusion, so you want no phone calls and no visitors. Dad and I recommend you stay with Tess for awhile.”
Madeline raised an eyebrow. “She wants me?”
“She does. In fact, she’s invited the rest of your kids to stay over as well. They’ve all agreed to spend the weekend with you if you stop the memorial.”
Jan released Elwood to pad over to Madeline, dragging his leash behind him. He nudged her leg until she dropped a hand to pet him. She sighed, seeming to steel herself for what came next. “The children never had a dog. Cliff forbade it.” She gave a wry smile. “All of them own dogs now.” While her eyes stayed on Elwood, her voice was thin with regret. “Six children, born so close together, were too much for me. Looking back, I think I had long bouts of post-partum depres
sion after each birth, when I could barely manage an infant, much less toddlers. Cliff worked all day, so they grew up wild. He’d get home, usually after dinner when the kids were already in bed, to find me in tears, distraught over how mean the children were to me and to each other. Tired and tense from his struggles as a new lawyer, he wasn’t in his right mind to discipline children, but he was incensed by their behavior. He’d demand details about what the children had done, then make me go to bed and shut our bedroom door. He forbade me to observe how he meted out their punishment.
“The next day, the children were quiet and seemed contrite, so I didn’t complain. Seemed like every three or four days, I’d fall apart and Cliff would have to pick up the pieces. For those first ten years I lived in a daze of diapering, cooking, cleaning, and sewing, trying to save money as well as support Cliff socially.”
“So you don’t know precisely how he disciplined your children after you went to bed?”
Madeline sighed, looking guilty. “I wasn’t in the state of mind to ask and I think he threatened the children so they wouldn’t tell me. In truth, I was numb, too tired to care.” She closed her eyes, seeming to realize how weak she sounded, how such a statement of ignorance maligned her.
“Things were better after that. I got medication, the children pitched in to help and I learned how to be a mother. A good one.” She put her hand to her forehead. “None of us spoke of those days, yet, whatever happened drove a wedge between my children and their father. He worked longer hours, seeming relieved not to be integral in their lives. I spent more time with Cliff by myself, attending functions and presiding over dinners with his important contacts. As the years went on, my children chose to ignore their father altogether.”
She opened her hands as if to show her helplessness regarding the rift between father and progeny. “Every one of my children left the house, never to return, by the age of 18.” Wringing her hands she said, “But not one wished to speak of why, even though I begged them to tell me their reasons.”
Rubbing her eyes, she said, “I thought the memorial might take away the pain or at least counter their bitterness.” With a sigh, she said, “I’m so ashamed of those early years. God help me, but I wanted to forget them as much as my children seem to want to.”
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