Fadeout

by Rolynn Anderson

  Jan took a deep breath. “I have no choice but to tell you of your husband’s discipline methods, Madeline. At this point your children realize it’s the only way to change your mind about the memorial.”

  Holding her head between her hands, Madeline closed her eyes and waited for the words she’d been afraid to hear her whole life.

  Jan used the voice of a reporter, stating the facts. “He usually hauled them out of bed by their legs, enraged but silent because he wanted you to get your sleep. If your children spoke or squealed, if they made any sound at all, he’d pinch their arms or legs or bellies so hard he bruised them. Hair pulling became a favorite. He’d yank clumps of their hair out as he dragged them from one chore to the next. Like Fagan in Oliver Twist, he’d take pleasure in hearing them moan in pain. If they cried, he’d pinch them harder. If they protested, he’d twist their arms.”

  Madeline’s mouth opened in astonishment. “Ryan? Cliff broke his arm?”

  “Yes. Ryan told me about that incident. The memory’s as fresh in his mind as if it happened yesterday. Cliff had him using a toothbrush to clean every inch of the tile in the bathrooms. After two hours at the job, Ryan fell asleep. When Cliff found him curled on the floor, he twisted Ryan’s arm as he lifted him up.

  Clutching her stomach, Madeline groaned, “No. No. Ryan said he fell.”

  “Ryan lied to you. He says all the kids kept the truth from you partly because Cliff said he’d kill them if they told. Over time, shame rendered them mute. To admit their famous father became a werewolf at night? They didn’t think anyone would believe them, including you.”

  Madeline plucked a handkerchief from under her sleeve and hid her eyes with it.

  Jan continued. “He made them take flashlights into the yard to dig out weeds, hoe the garden and pick snails off the plants. In the house, he had them washing floors and toilets, polishing silver and brass. If they didn’t work fast enough or carefully enough, he pinched them or pulled hair or socked them in their stomachs.”

  Jan noted her father’s raised eyebrows. Even the military man was shocked at the image of Cliff’s discipline and disturbed by a mother who couldn’t protect her children against such cruelty.

  Madeline must have caught the General’s expression. “I didn’t know.” She wagged her head. “But it’s true, I didn’t want to know.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “Please,” Madeline said. “I’m not sure I can bear any more.”

  Jan took a breath. “He humiliated them in front of each other. When he dragged them out of bed, he made them take their clothes off and work naked. Tess said they got to wear clothes only if they were assigned outside. He’d whisper cruel comments about their pre-puberty bodies and demand they agree with his assessments. Worse, he required them to gang up on one other, only satisfied when their nasty appraisals of each other were as cruel as his were.

  “Worst of all,” said Jan, “He set them up to rat on one another. The youngest ones were easy prey, dying for approval from their father. They’d tattle to get praise from Cliff, then sit back while he meted out punishment.” Jan shook her head. “Essentially, they went underground, controlling each other cruelly, using covert physical abuse and mental torture. Cliff’s work was done, only needing reinforcement, say monthly.”

  Shoulders sagging, one hand held to her eyes, Madeline said, “I knew they hated their father. Two of my children made suicide attempts. I assume that’s in the medical report you saw. Our youngest son, when he turned sixteen, hit Cliff and broke his nose before he went to live with Tess.” She dropped her head, seeming unable to bear its weight. “Cliff loved me. How could he cherish me and be such a horrible father?” She rubbed her eyes. “I envisioned the memorial taking away the pain.”

  Madeline mopped the tears from her face. Looking frail and sad, she lifted Elwood to her lap and hugged him, pulling energy from the animal. “Cancel it. I’ll go into seclusion with Tess and my children.” She sighed. “I’m so ashamed. How can I face them?”

  “We’ve recommended a counselor to Tess. Your daughter’s going to hire that person to work with the whole family.”

  “Poor Tess. She’s taken the brunt of it.”

  Jan sat beside Madeline. Grasping the woman’s hand, Jan said, “She’ll heal with your help. You’re the key to her full recovery. Think of the difference you can make in her life with this decision.”

  With a glance at her watch, Jan said. “We need you to pack right now. Once I cancel, the press will swarm—”

  “Bang!” came a sound from the kitchen, followed by a grunt and a loud thump.

  “What in the—?” Jan popped out of her chair, her eyes on her father.

  The General, looking fierce with concern, made for the fireplace, picking up a poker. Elwood hopped out of Madeline’s arms and took off for the kitchen.

  “Elly,” Jan shouted, fearing for the dog. “Come here!”

  With a gesture to Madeline to stay seated, Jan strode to her father’s side, eyes on the kitchen entry off the dining room. She thought about picking up the fireplace shovel, but before she could grab it, Roman entered the dining room with a wriggling Elwood under one arm, a length of two by four clutched in his other hand.

  She put a palm to her heart in a fruitless attempt to slow its beat. Blood emptied from her head even as she took a step to peek into the kitchen, amazed to see a man lying on the floor. She crumpled to the carpet, registering the shock on Roman’s face before she blacked out.

  ****

  Jan hummed, smiling as the vibration filled her mouth and the sound magically moved through the air to signal Roman. He could be across the room and he’d register her need, take note of her stillness and rush to her side. God, the power of a hum. “Baby,” he’d say. “You called.” A statement. A fact. A favorite ritual they’d perfected over years of learning about each other. Of loving each other.

  She’d nod, kiss him, and whisper “I’m yours.” With an upraised eyebrow, she’d always beg him for permission to move. But in this, his favorite ritual, he’d shake his head with a No-I’m-in-charge gaze. Inhaling deeply to quiet her bustling self, she’d give herself to Roman’s ministrations. Deep kisses first, his stolid body so close to hers she could feel him harden against her thigh while sweet pain built up inside her. He’d unbutton her blouse and push it off her shoulders, thumbs caressing her breasts even as her shirt fluttered to the floor. The mixture of lust and wonder in his expression as he released her bra and gently discarded it…the way he encircled her breasts with his hands and tweaked her nipples before he dipped to kiss them. Now she’d be humming to keep herself from moving. He’d recognize the tension, look into her eyes and smile smugly at the knowledge that he’d be the lucky one when she got her chance to focus all her repressed energy into making love to him.

  By this time, she’d lose track of what was happening to her. Her shorts and panties would be off before she was aware he’d removed them. Somehow he’d taken off his own shirt, pants, and shorts without her knowing when…she was standing right there, not moving, watching him closely, and yet, miraculously, they were both naked, thrumming with need. But she’d learned he wasn’t finished with the ritual. No. One more step of agony mixed with ecstasy. Now he’d kneel, his eyes on hers, piercing and bright. Dizzy with need, she’d put her hands on his shoulders, open her legs, and hum as he lowered his head.

  ****

  Jan hummed as she opened her eyes to find herself in Roman’s arms. Instead of popping up, she relaxed, remembering Pete’s observation about her fainting spells. “It shows you’re sensitive; empathetic.” Considering her dreamy interlude with Roman, she might have to add “sensual” to Pete’s list.

  “Hey, Jazz,” Roman said. “How are you doing?”

  “Took a quick nap. Got my blood flowing correctly after a little lie-down.”

  He smiled. “Good for you. How was the faint dream?”

  “No more crying children. This time you were in it, in a ver
y good way.”

  “Oh, I like that. Ready to sit up?”

  “I am.”

  Roman and the General helped her rise and seat herself in a dining room chair with a view to the big country kitchen. To Madeline, wringing her hands in the corner of the room Jan said, “I’m fine. I’ll sort this mess out in a minute.”

  Roman managed a crooked smile, conveying a curious mix of bravado and guilt.

  She pushed the faint dream aside to deal with the present. “Damn. You and what’s his face heard everything Madeline told us.”

  From Madeline: “Who is he? Who are they?”

  Jan jerked a thumb at Roman. “We know this guy but not the one on the kitchen floor.”

  “Did he come with you?” Madeline asked Roman.

  The General raised the fireplace poker when a groan came from the prone man. “Who the hell is he?”

  Roman squinted into the kitchen and picked up his two by four. “He’s the intruder. I tapped him with this to keep him from bothering you,” he said, holding the weapon aloft. Roman turned to Madeline. “Roman Keller at your service, ma’am. If you find us some rope, I’ll tie him up. Then we’ll call the police.”

  She scurried away on a rope-finding mission.

  Jan peered at the man lying on the kitchen floor, a tire iron still clutched in his hand.

  “Who is he, Roman?”

  “Big Ears, I call him. An employee of our esteemed mayor, I’ve deduced.”

  “Really?” The General corralled and calmed Elwood before he stepped up to stand guard over the fellow on the floor. “How do you know?”

  Roman reached into his pocket for a cell phone. “Big Ear’s. Direct line to the mayor’s office. I think we’ll find a record of constant contact with Simpson.”

  “What is he doing here, and how did you…?” Jan asked.

  Roman rested his hand on her shoulder and rubbed his thumb against her skin, just barely, evoking a caress, an apology, a warning…maybe all of the above. Roman said, “He followed you here. I tailed him by car and figured he’d gotten into the house, so I snuck in, too.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You both heard everything we said?”

  He shrugged. “I knew he was somewhere close, listening in. I was trying to be quiet in my search so he didn’t know I was looking for him.” He raised his hands in a what-could-I-do gesture.

  “You heard everything.”

  “I got the gist of it.” He inclined his head in the direction of Big Ears. “He did too. I caught him coming out of the pantry with the tire iron, so I thumped him on the head with this.” He raised the two by four.

  “You heard everything,” Jan repeated.

  “I couldn’t find him, Jan. I had to be quiet in my search for him, so I…”

  She shook her head, amazed. Roman’s expression screamed adrenaline rush…a journalist turned on by the story of the century. A man who would sleep with her to get information on Tess. The Barker children’s secret wasn’t safe in Roman’s hands.

  “You’re canceling the memorial, right?” he asked, green eyes bright with interest.

  “We are. But I won’t give the real reason to the public. I’m begging you not to, either.”

  He frowned. “I have no choice. The world needs to know how cruel Cliff Barker was to his children.”

  Jan put her finger to her lips as Madeline hurried into the kitchen, a rope coiled on her arm. “Will this do?” she asked, white-faced, staring at the man on the floor as if to assure herself he was real.

  The General took the rope from Madeline and guided her to a seat in the living room, murmuring soothing words to her. “I’ll call the cops,” the General said. Roman grabbed the rope from him and went to work on Big Ears.

  Bending down so only Roman could hear her speak, Jan said, “Madeline and the children get to decide when Barker’s history of abuse hits the papers. They’re hurting, Roman, with a long way to go before they can admit what really went on in their family. We’ve got the kids’ mental health at stake, here.”

  Roman stopped mid-tie and stared at Jan. “He was a public figure who pretended he was a ‘family values’ man. Hell, he was running on a platform that guaranteed health insurance for every kid under eighteen while he tortured his own kids in the dead of night.”

  “I know. I want the man exposed for his deceit as much as you do, but Madeline and the kids deserve to be the ones to make the call. On their timeline.”

  “What about Mayor Simpson, who’s taking a ride to the Senate on Barker’s so-called righteous coattails? You want to let him get away with that, duping the public when you know he’s the one who sent Big Ears and his tire iron after you?”

  Jan stared at the man groaning on the kitchen floor. “We’ll tell Simpson to leave us alone, giving him a taste of what we know. Without the memorial, he…”

  With a final pull on the rope knot around Big Ear’s ankles, Roman stood and closed in on Jan. “He, her, them? How many other people will glorify Cliff Barker when the man should be vilified? Simpson is the tip of the iceberg. Barker was a public figure, known and falsely idolized by thousands of people. A limited e-mailing won’t do, Jan. Everyone needs to know the truth about the man.”

  “At the expense of his family? One on the brink of suicide? They need help, time, and the power to tell all when they’re ready.”

  “What if they’re never ready?”

  Jan peered into the living room to see the General and Elly comforting Madeline. To Roman, she said, “It’s so simple for you, isn’t it? Tell the world the bald truth. If a few people are casualties, tough. What you won’t admit is that you’re into timing these exposés for the biggest drama, the most shock value. Your rush, your reputation. Your story.”

  Feeling dizzy with the turmoil, she put her palm to her forehead.

  “Jazz?” Roman asked, his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

  “No.” She looked at her watch and gasped. “I’ve got half an hour to stop this memorial.” Madeline would need more calming. Danger to the Barkers loomed, the man on the floor, solid evidence. Instead of taking Madeline to Tess’s, they might do better to hide the whole family. “I’ll leave the General here to help you deal with the police.”

  Jan drilled Roman with her eyes. “Consider yourself thanked for saving us from the big-eared guy, but not for tailing me and learning secrets you had no right to hear.” She thought she saw sadness in his eyes. No, it was a trick of the light. She blinked away the hope. “And not for the exposé you’re itching to write.”

  When he averted his eyes, she tensed. “Fine. You’ll do what you have to, Roman. I’m off to cancel the memorial and confront the mayor while the General helps hide the family.”

  Roman nodded.

  “We are who we are.”

  Again, Roman nodded, oddly silent for a man so at ease with words.

  “Goodbye, Roman.” She turned and strode away, listing in her head the next steps and composing the text of the cancellation message. The bustling felt familiar and right.

  It was the feel of tears coursing down her cheeks that surprised her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Roman threw his blow-up bed in the back seat of his Beemer and slammed the car door, hard.

  Done. Packed and outta there in record time.

  Never mind that in order to accomplish the task, he’d had to pretend he was checking out of a hotel, not Jan’s house. Her life. He’d steeled himself against taking in Jan’s view of the golf course. He’d closed his eyes to her wall of portraits and averted his view of her study, where, for him, she still sat in her silky robe. Did not register Elwood’s once florescent tennis balls lying on the floor, begging for a dog and a throw. Refused to peek in the spare bedroom where he’d had the best sex in his life. Stayed out of the bathroom where her perfume lingered and her birth control pills dialed today.

  He took off his suit, showered, dressed, then drove the short distance to Bella’s, where he would join a small gatherin
g of Sidney’s friends and relatives for drinks.

  “I’m going home to Santa Barbara tonight,” he said aloud when he’d shut off the car engine. Then he waited in vain to feel good about the concept.

  Once he opened the door to his grandmother’s house, he forced himself to focus on family and his grandfather’s memory. Forget about Barker. Don’t think of Jan.

  Good luck.

  He mixed a drink, apologized for not attending the after-memorial event and began to graze on appetizers. When the compliments on his eulogy started coming, he told them Jan deserved the credit.

  Perfect restaurant pick, they said.

  “Jan picked it,” Bella said. “The Mission garden was her idea, as well.”

  While Roman attended to his relatives and friends, his gaze often drifted to the door, hoping Jan might make an appearance. She’d been invited; would she come?

  “Come help me in the kitchen, Roman,” Bella said, grabbing his arm. “Bring your drink.”

  He leaned against the kitchen counter, Bella swirling in front of him like some aged, multicolored butterfly.

  “You’d rather be with Jan.”

  “I’m sorry, Grandma. It’s been a day.”

  “She’s cancelled the Barker thing?”

  “Yeah. Jan convinced Mrs. Barker that Cliff was a horrible father and unworthy of a memorial. Got the kids to fly in and be with Mrs. Barker for the weekend. She’s good, Grandma.”

  “And you’re not.”

  Roman looked into his drink as if it held an answer. “I followed her to get nasty stuff on Barker when she wouldn’t let me in on the old guy’s secrets.”

  She squeezed his chin. “Tell me something good you’ve done.”

  “Nothing. I put her in danger.”

  Bella squeezed harder.

  Roman gave a pretend wince and pulled away from her grasp. “Okay. I hit a bad guy over the head and gave him up to the cops.”

  She nodded when she heard the whole story. Looking proud, she asked, “What else?”