Fractured Truth

by Susan Furlong

  She went out cold.

  “Hey, Parks.” I stood over Winnie’s limp body, holding my sore chest with my right arm, my knuckles throbbing, and made the call. “It’s Brynn. I need assistance.”

  CHAPTER 43

  My cell phone woke me. I ignored it and pulled Wilco closer. Eventually it stopped. I sighed. My dog was back, and as far as I was concerned, everything was right in the world.

  All I needed was a little sleep. The past week had been grueling, hours and hours of testimony had to be sorted through to piece together the events of Maura’s murder.

  Winnie had orchestrated the entire thing, including manipulating Jacob Fisher into helping her.

  It’d started a few weeks earlier when she learned that Maura was pregnant with Hatch’s baby. She’d had a crush on Hatch and felt betrayed by her best friend. That night, out on Stoners’ Draw, she and Maura got in a fight over Hatch. Hatch thought it was funny. Two girls in love with him. He kept passing out more pills, telling Maura that they wouldn’t hurt the baby, trying to get both girls stoned. Only, Maura passed out right away. Winnie had thought that was her opportunity to have Hatch to herself, but he wasn’t interested. Winnie became enraged and took the bat to Maura’s car and then ran.

  She’d been to Jacob’s house many times before. No parents, no rules, it was the perfect place for a young Pavee girl to let loose and party. In the past, she’d played Jacob for the loser she perceived him to be, leading him on, doing just enough to get him to buy more booze, or whatever else she needed. He was easy to manipulate. He’d do anything she wanted.

  And that night, she wanted Maura dead. Sort of.

  A simple statement—“I wish she was dead”—turned into something more. The booze, the video games, it was all so surreal. The idea kept percolating, heating up, until finally it seemed like it was the answer to all her problems.

  It’d be easy, she told Jacob.

  She got the occult idea from the video games they were playing. It seemed like the perfect way to mislead the cops. And the note was her special touch. She knew the press would eventually get ahold of it and Maura would be exposed as the Jezebel she was.

  It was like a fire burning out of control. Before she knew it, they’d grabbed some rope and used one of the old knives from out in the barn and went up to the Stoners’ Draw to find Maura. She was still there, passed out, just like Winnie had left her. They bound her and took her to the cave. She never even woke up. If she’d woke up, neither one of them would have had the nerve. But she already looked dead. Just lying there, looking dead . . . All Winnie had to do was stick the knife into her. It’d be so easy....

  Jacob freaked out and ran. He left her there with the knife and Maura asleep on the rock. And she did it. God help her, she did it.

  It was easy.

  Until it wasn’t.

  Jacob came back. He was distraught; he kept fussing over Maura. Fixing her skirt, making her just so; all the while, he babbled on and on about his mother.

  But she convinced him that she hadn’t meant it. It was the booze, the pills, whatever . . . but she didn’t mean it. Not really.

  Jacob believed her. He loved her. He’d do anything for her.

  Such a stupid boy.

  They drew the evil symbols with Maura’s blood. And left her there. The next day, nervous, they desecrated the cemetery, hoping to keep the sham going. Only, things got complicated. The cops didn’t quite buy the occult angle, so Winnie decided to frame Nevan. He had motive. His fiancée was pregnant with another man’s baby. That’s when she decided to toss the bat at Nevan’s place. At the time, she didn’t know about Eddie and Nevan.

  Then there was Hatch. He knew what had really happened that night. Most of it, anyway. The rest he’d pieced together. But she had something on him, too. The drugs. His silence was easy to guarantee.

  But when Nevan pointed in the direction of Jacob, and the cops found a dead body in his barn, she saw the perfect opportunity to frame Jacob. Besides, the loser was so in love with her—he’d do anything for her, even go to prison.

  Riana and Winnie. They had so much in common: Both were in love with losers, Dublin and Hatch. Both lost that love to another woman; both settled for another man, whom they could manipulate to get what they wanted. But in the end, neither woman succeeded. Both were going to prison.

  Wilco snuggled in closer, made little whimpering sounds, his three paws twitching. “That’s right, boy. Sweet dreams. We’ve done good and it’s time to rest.” Although, even as I nodded off, Katie Doogan’s name popped into my mind. I pushed it aside. There’d be time to deal with her later.

  * * *

  My cell rang again. I reluctantly rolled over, pushed Wilco aside, and answered. It was Nevan.

  “Do you believe in Heaven?”

  His voice was so shallow, like he had no air left. “Nevan? Where are you? What’s going on? How did you get my . . . ?”

  “I asked you if you believe in Heaven.”

  “Yes. Yes, Nevan. I do.”

  “And people who are good. They go there, right?”

  I was up, sliding on my pants, looking for my car keys. “Where are you?”

  “Please answer me. I need to know.”

  “Yes. If you’re good, you get to go there.”

  “I’ve been good, Brynn. Both Eddie and I have been good. We haven’t done anything wrong. All we’ve done is love each other. That’s not wrong, is it?”

  I sat on the edge of my bed. My heart slammed against my chest. “Listen to me, you need to tell me where you are. I want to help—”

  “Eddie’s gone to Heaven and I’m going to go, too. So we can be together.”

  “What? No, Nevan. No. You just mentioned love. Think about all the people who love you.”

  He kind of choked or laughed, I couldn’t tell. “Who?”

  “Your mother . . .”

  “She’s embarrassed by me.”

  “No, that’s not true. Listen, I almost died a week ago, because I thought no one would care, no one at all, but I was wrong, Nevan. And you’re wrong. People do love you. Your mother loves you, Nevan. She loves you very much.” I was up, pacing. “Don’t do this. Please.”

  “I’m leaving now, Brynn. Eddie and me, we left something here for you. Make sure you look for it.”

  “No. Listen—”

  “Room number six.”

  The line went dead.

  CHAPTER 44

  They were spooned together, back to front, entwined like pale pretzels. A mixed jumble of body parts: skinny shoulders, an impish chin, a jutting elbow here, knobby knee there, an awkward angled foot, dark swatch of hair . . . so tightly embraced that it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. They’d achieved in death what they never attained in life. They were together.

  Red and blue lights strobed through the room. Wilco’s high-pitched whines reached my ears. Despite being confined to a cruiser out in the lot, his sensitive nose had detected the scent of fresh decay.

  Grabowski handed me a plastic bag. Zipped inside was a piece of lined paper torn from a notebook. “It’s dated today. It’s written as the final journal entry.”

  My hands trembled as I took the bag and walked toward the nightstand lamp. Eddie’s handwriting, easily recognizable now.

  March 1

  This is my last journal page. I am writing it for you, Mom. Nevan and me can’t take it anymore. We have been beaten and spit on and called names, like faggots, losers, and fairies. The kids at school hate us because we’re Pavees. Our own people hate us because we love each other. Nevan’s family told him that if he wants to be queer, he’ll have to leave the clan forever. They don’t want a faggot in their family. I didn’t want to be this way. I tried not to be and I tried to make things right for Nevan and me, but everything kept getting messed up more. It’s not your fault that you have me for a son. You and Maura are the only ones who really loved me for who I am. But now Maura is dead. I miss her. I know you do, too, Mo
m. I’m sorry you will be alone, but life will be easier for you when I’m gone. I don’t want you to be hated the way I am hated. I don’t want people to call you names and put you down all the time. I just want you to laugh and smile like you used to when we were all together as a normal family. Please don’t be sad, Mom. Nevan and me will be happy in Heaven. I know we will. I’ll see you there. I’ll be with Dad and Maura and Nevan. We will be waiting for you.

  It’s time for me to go. I am feeling happier now. I want you to know that it’s ending and I am feeling really good now. I’m not crying. I’m not scared, Mom. I will be so happy in Heaven because I won’t be a fag, just a person, and I will be loved.

  CHAPTER 45

  After one of the longest cold spells in eastern Tennessee history, spring finally showed itself, arriving on and off in spurts and finally settling in early April after a cold snap that locals called the Redbud Winter, a couple of below-freezing days that occur every year when the redbuds bloom. Wilco and I used the warm weather to get in extra training time. I needed to keep my skills, and his nose, sharp. We both needed to reestablish the order of our relationship.

  I’d cleared my drug test and would soon be reinstated at work.

  Three weeks had passed without further contact from Katie Doogan, but I knew it was just a matter of time before she’d make her next move. I was on borrowed time. And so was Gran. But I’d been seeing Dr. Ryan for a month and had managed to stay sober for part of that time. There were days still when the anxiety was so vicious and demanding that I needed a little something to take the edge off. But I was getting better. Dr. Ryan showed me that I’d spent the last few years of my life living from crisis to crisis, skimming the surface, numbing myself from the pains of life. It was time to feel the pain and learn to cope with it. That’s what I planned to do with the next crisis. When the time comes to face Katie Doogan, I’d do it sober and strong.

  The news of what really happened to Maura Keene and Addy Barton rocked our clan. Most didn’t believe that Riana Meath was capable of such a heinous crime and chalked it up as another settled law conspiracy against our people. Riana went down as a martyr for the people; Addy’s death, a settled girl, just a misunderstanding.

  Winnie was written off by the clan, left to rot in a settled prison. Pavees simply didn’t kill each other. It was as if Winnie had never existed. And Maura? A sad death that would never be spoken of other than with sad shakes of heads and signs of the cross.

  I delivered the death notices for Eddie and Nevan.

  Kitty Meath took the news standing straight and rigid while anger and hateful disdain flashed through her eyes like lightning through pitch-blackness. No tears, no cries of anguish, simply silence. Then she shut the door. I haven’t seen her since. Not even at Nevan’s funeral.

  When we told Ona that her Eddie had died, her pain exploded, dark and raw, forceful, sucking in everything around it, churning and churning, making me queasy and weak. So much death, her husband and now both her children. So much loss. Ona Keene was only a shell of the woman she was before. She told us that she planned to move on to Kentucky and live with her sister. She no longer felt like she belonged in Bone Gap.

  The deaths of Eddie and Nevan set something in motion for me. I began wrestling with the realities of my Pavee culture, rules that guided our lives and defined our heritage, kept us strong and united, but yet alienated so many. We called non-Pavees outsiders. And we meant it. We kept our boundaries tight and adhered to a strict moral code, but somewhere along the line, we’d forgotten to allow for humanness.

  Rules and rigidness had replaced love and mercy.

  And four young people had died because of it.

  * * *

  Eddie’s final journal entry haunted me. I’d walked along the same edge, teetering between suffering and possible relief. Waking up every day with a gnawing feeling, hoping it’d get better, trying to push it away, realizing that it was only getting worse. All this time, I’ve struggled to find acceptance, in the Pavee world and in the settled world, even as a female in the Marines, not quite fitting in anywhere. That feeling of not belonging, of no identity, helplessness, isolation . . . I’d been there so many times, reached the point of exhaustion, where I simply couldn’t fight it anymore . . . and I’d tried, so many times, to escape the despair of this world. What I’d learned, what I knew for sure, was that those last few seconds, right before that final step to death, were the most unspeakably lonely times of my life. My prayer for Eddie and Nevan was that they made it through that dark sea of loneliness and found peace on the other side.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank the following people for their contribution to this book. First and foremost, my hardworking agent, Jessica Faust, and her team at BookEnds Literary Agency. My editor, Michaela Hamilton; my publicist, Lulu Martinez; and all the people working behind the scenes at Kensington Publishing. Thank you also to freelance editor Sandra Haven. I’m always grateful for your expertise.

  For those of you familiar with the symptoms of PTS and substance abuse withdrawals, you may notice differences between the facts of these subjects and the way I’ve portrayed them in this novel. These are not research mistakes, but choices I’ve made to fit the story’s timeline and increase drama. I’d like to thank the following people who have taken time to provide me with the research information to write this story: John Burley, MD; William Novak, MD, FACC; Amanda Bourg, PHD, psychologist; Sergeant Leanna Miller-Ferguson, USMC disabled veteran; Indiana K9 Search and Recovery; Kathy Chiodo Holbert, owner of Chiodo Kennels and former civilian HRD canine handler, Iraq and Afghanistan; and Staff Sergeant Vern Smart, U.S. Army veteran, RSO and firearms expert; Elizabeth Roderick, sensitivity reader.

  A special thank you to my husband for covering dinners, dishes, and homework duty on the late nights leading up to my deadline. And always, thank you to our children for cheering me on and encouraging me to do my best.

  A READING GROUP GUIDE

  FRACTURED TRUTH

  Susan Furlong

  ABOUT THIS GUIDE

  The suggested questions are included to enhance your group’s

  reading of Susan Furlong’s Fractured Truth!

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. In Fractured Truth, Brynn has taken a position as a deputy sheriff and is now working for the “settled law” and is faced with deciding where her loyalties fall: family or work. Have you ever experienced conflict between your family and your work? Or a conflict between your personal beliefs and your work? How did you resolve this conflict?

  2. Maura Keene’s murder appears to be perpetrated by an evil cult, but Brynn is not convinced. Colm tells her, “You can’t fight what you don’t believe exists, Brynn. Evil is real.” Do you agree with Colm? Is the evil that Colm refers to any different from the evil Brynn has seen while on active duty? In the end, what type of evil is Brynn really fighting?

  3. Several truths are bent and/or fractured in this book: In Brynn’s mind, her drug abuse is understandable and should be excused, but she thinks Hatch’s involvement in distributing and abusing drugs is wrong. She thinks, People can find a way to justify just about anything. Discuss how Brynn justifies her own addictions. What things in your life do you excuse that you would denounce in someone else’s life? What reasons are there that a bad action might be acceptable for one person, but not for another?

  4. Another truth that appears skewed in the story is the strict moral code of the Pavees. Discuss some of the “truths” that characters have manipulated to serve their own self-interests. What examples do you see of this in society? In your own community? In your family? In yourself?

  5. Brynn faces prejudice in her life, but her actions imply she, too, harbors a bias against the settled townspeople. Discuss how Brynn justifies her own prejudices she often feels toward people outside her clan. Are prejudices ever justified?

  6. The Traveller culture lives by a strict moral code. How does that moral code play into the tolerance, or lac
k of tolerance, of those outside the clan, as well as those living in the clan? Have you found it difficult to deal with the moral codes within your community, culture, or family for your own life? How do your own moral beliefs affect how you see others?

  7. The murder victim Maura Keene was a local high-school student. Throughout her investigation, Brynn draws many parallels between her own high-school experiences and Maura Keene’s experiences. Nothing about high school ever changes.... The kids were the same, too: the geeks, the jocks, the thespians, and the mean girls. The preps in their cardigans and the Goths whose black garb expressed their inner angst. Why do social cliques seem to transcend time? What contributes to these various group dynamics? Do students choose to be identified and labeled in these social cliques, or are those labels forced on them?

  8. Brynn saw herself as a “fringer” in high school: The fringers—on the outside, whether by choice or from being pushed out of the normal clique groups. They walked alone, kept their heads down, dressed to blend in, and worked hard to get through each day unnoticed. What are some other common labels used among students? How do these labels hurt students? Did Brynn’s social status in high school set her up for a life of being on the outside? What group did you identify with in school? How did that influence your self-esteem in later life?

  9. Labels can be hurtful and demeaning. Do you think people can overcome labels put on them by others, and, if so, how? Have you been hurt by the terms others have used to define you and how did you handle it? Discuss the dire consequences of this concept as it relates to Eddie and Nevan.

  10. Female manipulation can be seen throughout this story. From the reference of Jezebel at the murder scene to the motivations for two murders. Emotional manipulation often escalates to bullying. What are some of the ways to recognize if someone is trying to manipulate you? What is the best way to handle a manipulative person?