by Agatha Ball
Johnny was still pretty sleepy, but he was okay. He was still too groggy to carry on a coherent conversation, but was totally up for watching some reality TV in between naps. But by the time Nate was able to get over to the clinic from the evening ferry, Johnny was back to his old self.
His face lit up as Nate entered the room, bearing gifts of chocolate from the mainland.
He sat down on the side of the bed and patted Johnny's leg. "You gave us a scare there, Johnny."
Johnny opened the box and shrugged, completely chill with everything that had happened. "Whatevs. I told her I don't do that kind of stuff and she just wouldn't listen." He smiled and held up the candy. "But everything happens for a reason, and I think the reason was to get some of these. It's like you were reading my mind!" He held out the box and stared intently at us. "Did you get that message?"
Nate and I laughed. We both reached out and grabbed a piece. "Yes."
"RIGHTEOUS! It TOTALLY works!" Johnny said, biting into a cherry cordial that dripped down his chin. "Crazy, man!"
"Speaking of crazy," said Nate.
"Yes?" I replied, bracing myself for whatever he was getting ready to lay on me.
"Your granny brought home that fellow she met and they're hanging out at the Founders' Festival tonight."
I laughed. "That's it? That's the least crazy thing I think I've dealt with all week. I'll steer clear and get the update tomorrow morning. Sorry to inform you, but you boys are stuck with me tonight."
The nurse came in with a clipboard and said, "Johnny, looks like you are all set to head home."
"Rocking!" he said, pulling himself out of bed. "Man, that was not my idea of a good time."
He rocked unsteadily on his feet, but Nate was there to catch him.
"Let me give you a ride home," Nate said.
"That'd be great," replied Johnny.
"Actually," I said, pausing the party, "we need to go over to the jail first."
I filled Johnny and Nate in on Linda and Doyle's arrest and that Stan and Fred wanted Johnny to stop by to make a statement as soon as he was released. Johnny's face said that he didn't like that idea one bit. I frantically thought of a good distraction that would give Johnny some time to gather his thoughts, but also wouldn't leave him alone. Stan and Fred hated Johnny for some reason. The fact he wasn't going to go straight over to make his statement might be just the excuse they were looking for to release Doyle and Linda and say that Johnny tranquilized himself. You never know with those two. But if Johnny was with us, at least we could vouch for each other.
"Hey, Johnny? This is kind of crazy, but would you two mind going out to Georgia's old house with me for a second? I gotta go over there and would really rather not do it alone."
Johnny looked so relieved to have an excuse not to go to the precinct. He made a gallant fist and placed it over his heart. "We are your knights to command!"
He stumbled again and Nate looked at me warily. "You sure this needs to happen now?"
I nodded, looking at Johnny. "Georgia's family is going to be all over that trailer by tomorrow, as soon as Stan and Fred take down the police tape. But there's something I need to do and if I don't do it tonight, it'll be too late."
Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "Listen, I've been napping indoors all day. I could use some fresh, country air."
I didn't bother telling him that we lived on a rural island and it was all fresh, country air.
We piled into Nate's truck and drove out to Georgia's place. The summer sun still hadn't hit the horizon. It felt a lot closer than when you're riding dirt trails on a bike. The truck bumped over the road and into Georgia's overgrown yard. It looked exactly the same, and the tape was still up. That was a good sign. I opened up the door and stepped out, aware of the sounds of her bees now that I knew to be aware of them. I had dismissed it all before as "nature."
Nate and Johnny joined me and looked around.
"Aw! This is an AMAZING place," said Johnny. "Nobody to bother you. Just quiet and awesome. Very cool. I wonder what they're gonna do with it."
"Probably sell it," said Nate. He rubbed his lower lip with is pointer finger thoughtfully. "Let's hope not to Madison." He turned to me. "So, what's the plan?"
"I promised Tim I'd help with this... superstition thing," I said.
"What is it?"
I pointed to the three white boxes back in the field behind the trailer. "It's a tradition. When the beekeeper dies, someone has to tell the bees," I said. "There was a suit in Georgia's house and... well... I told Tim I would tell the bees."
Nate cocked his head to the side and looked at me quizzically. "How do you know there is a beekeeper suit in Georgia's house?"
I waved him away. "Don't ask," I replied. "And you guys totally don't see me doing this." I walked up to the door and popped the lock, disappeared inside for a few minutes, and then came out dressed in Georgia's white suit beekeeper's suit.
"You look like a spaceman!" exclaimed Johnny, totally delighted. He then started doing his impersonation of walking on the moon. I was glad he was feeling better.
"I'll be right back," I said.
I walked out to the hives and stood there as the bees swarmed around. I didn't know exactly what to say, so I figured just short and sweet, so to speak, was the way to go. "So, hey bees. I'm sorry to be the one to inform you, but the lady who used to take care of you? She passed away. But there's this nice guy, his name is Tim, he's going to come take care of you, okay?" I hoped that it was enough.
But as I stood there, I realized one of the boxes was absolutely dead. There were no bees going in or coming out. I felt awful. What if the superstition was real and I hadn't gotten out here quick enough. Had that colony left or died? I had to know.
I walked over and pulled open the top, but I didn't find any honeycomb. In fact, it wasn't a hive at all. It was a perfectly sealed, lined security box disguised as a hive. I guess when you lived in a place as easy to break into as Georgia's trailer, you don't keep your valuables inside. You keep them beside one of nature's best security systems. So that's why she kept bees.
Inside the faux hive was a cardboard file box. I removed the lid. Inside were stacks of old pictures and letters. But on top of them all were two envelopes that read "Last Will and Testament."
I opened them up and glanced at the legal papers.
It suddenly all made sense.
"You bringing home some honey?" called Johnny, who had only seen me open the hive and reach inside. "SWEET!"
I replaced the envelopes, put them back in the box, and carried the whole thing over to the guys. I took off the hood of the suit. "Johnny, there's some stuff in here for you."
He looked at me quizzically. "What?"
"Just... look inside."
He crouched down. "Wait. I'm still not tripping on horse tranqs, right? Like, we are actually in a field outside of Georgia's trailer and you just found a box in a beehive with stuff inside for me."
"It's real," I replied. I wrapped my arm around Nate's waist. From what I read in the envelopes, he was going to need some support through all this, too.
"DUDE! Why does Georgia have all these pictures of my mom?"
It was the same woman Georgia had tacked up on the wall of her dream board, the woman whose face she had marked out. There were pictures of both girls holding Johnny. There was even a picture of Johnny and me. Those pictures were taken from inside of the ferry terminal booth. And there was picture after picture of Byron Edward.
I crouched down beside my friend and pulled out the two wills from the envelopes. "Johnny? Read this," I said, handing over the first will. "It's your mom's will."
"Wait. My mom's still alive," said Johnny.
"I know. That’s why none of this went into effect."
Johnny began reading. "Okay, so there are a lot of big words and I'm not sure I get it all. So, it says if my mom died, all her stuff would go to Georgia?" he asked. He looked at the trailer. "Like, GEORGIA Georgia? Why would my mom
do that?"
I pointed to a sentence he had missed. "Georgia was your mom's step-sister."
"WHAT?" asked Johnny. His eyes got huge and he looked over at the trailer. "She was like, sort of my aunt or something?"
I looked at Nate, wishing I could prepare him for this next part. "In the will, it says, basically, your mom had an affair with Byron Edward... and he was your biological dad."
Both Nate and Johnny looked at me in stunned silence. They then looked at each other. Johnny finally said, "WHOA!"
"If Byron ever decided to acknowledge you as his son, you would have been his heir." I looked once more at Nate. We were in some tricky waters here. Byron hadn't acknowledged Johnny. Byron's will stated everything was Nate's, but if Madison and her company got a hold of the information that Johnny was Byron's biological son, they might be able to set up legal proceedings for years, arguing everything rightfully belonged to his son rather than a nephew. They had no case, but they could bleed Nate dry and force him to either sell or declare bankruptcy. I cleared my throat and continued. I pointed to the next paragraph of the will. "Your mom knew Doyle would just drink it away, so she willed everything she owned to her step-sister, Georgia." I then pulled out the second will from the envelope. "And Georgia's will says she leaves everything to you." I motioned to the trailer and the bees and the land. "Because she loved Byron and she wanted you, his son, to have everything in honor of that love."
We all stood there in silence. Johnny's face got pale as he backed away and processed what I had told him.
"YO!" said Johnny, looking at Nate. "You mean, we're like... COUSINS?? NO WAY!" He gave him a great, big high-five.
"Way!" laughed Nate, embracing him in a huge, bear hug. He looked at Johnny with tears in his eyes. "I thought all my family was gone. I thought I was all alone. I thought I was the last man standing. And it turns out, well... it turns out that I have a family after all."
And that's why I loved both these men.
Because when faced with receiving and losing wealth that would have changed both their worlds, all they cared about was finding each other.
Chapter Nineteen
Armed with the two wills, we now made our way to the police station. In fact, now we headed there with a bit of urgency. There were so many questions and only one guy who could help.
"Do you think my dad knew?" asked Johnny, still just blown away by what we had discovered. "Like, do you think he knew?"
"I don't know," I said to him. "You're going to have to ask him." As I looked at the two wills in my hand, I wondered if this was the secret of Georgia's book.
"Your dad stuck up for you last night," said Nate. "Even if he knew, he cares enough to protect you."
"And you said they arrested him?" Johnny asked, just to confirm the facts were straight. "Why?"
"Well, with Fred and Stan, they probably assumed he was trying to kill you...?" I offered.
"What do you say we find out the full story," said Nate, pulling his truck into the parking lot of the police station. He turned off the engine and waited for Johnny to give an affirming nod.
We tripped up the steps into the square, concrete building. The air conditioning blasted us as we opened the glass door. Stan was sitting at the front desk.
"Hey, Stan," I said. "We brought Johnny by to make a statement, but he wants to talk to his dad."
"Yeaaaah.... We don't really have a 'visitor's' room," Stan stated, making little air quotes. The man always had it out for Johnny.
But Nate came to the rescue. "Now, officer, I'm sure you wouldn't keep a son from thanking the man who saved his life?" Nate pulled out the two wills. "Also, it appears that Johnny is a founding family member."
Nate was playing the big cards, but it seemed to work. Stan looked really uncomfortable, but not surprised. I guess there had been something about Johnny's parentage in Georgia's book. Stan relented. "Fine! But only five minutes!"
"I'll bring you extra pastries tomorrow," I promised Stan as he unlocked the door and let us into the room.
Doyle was sitting in one cell and Linda was locked into the other. They couldn't see each other because there was a cement wall between them. They both stood up, as if they both thought we were there to see each of them. They both spoke at once.
"Johnny, he made me do it—"
"Johnny, don't listen to that woman—"
"Wait, what's happening?" asked Johnny, turning to me. "They're talking really fast."
I stared down the petite woman in the left cell. "Linda, we know everything," I said, crossing my arms.
Linda's blank face turned hard, the docile mask she usually wore now gone. Her head spun to look at me, her stringy blonde hair flying. "You know what?"
"We know you killed Georgia," said Nate.
"You're crazy," she spat.
I outlined the timeline for her. "You said you came in on the morning ferry, said hello to Georgia, then you went to your hotel, and when you came back, she was dead. But she was dead before the ferry arrived and you've been on this island for over a week."
"You don't know anything!" she replied menacingly.
"Your boyfriend... your TRUE boyfriend, is Doyle, isn't it?" I looked at Johnny's dad and his face told me I was right. "Why did you want Georgia dead?" I asked, aware that a pleading tone had come into my voice.
"I never wanted that woman dead!" Doyle replied defensively. He pointed Linda's direction. "It was all her idea!"
"Shut your hole! That wretched woman was ruining my life!" shouted Linda. We all took a step back from her vehemence. "That Georgia was a disgrace. She was never deserving of the position of Seaside ticket clerk! I've been stuck in a ticket booth on the mainland dealing with the spitting, puking, filthy public while she practically phoned it in every day, taking for granted this posh, full-time job with full benefits and she only had to deal with a whole two ferry rides all day!"
"You killed her because you wanted her job?" Nate reiterated, just making sure we had all heard it correctly.
"I've had to moonlight in a frickin' pie truck at county fairs! Do you know what it is like having to make ends meet by selling PIES out of a roach coach? The smell of pastry makes me SICK! But we had a plan—"
"Linda, don't say anything more!" Doyle warned.
"—Doyle taught me. It was all Doyle!" She pointed at him. "All you need is a dummy machine to run people's credit cards through and a couple of bank accounts. You just take some numbers and nobody knows it was you!"
Suddenly, a moment I had dismissed as just a random occurrence took on a much greater meaning. "That day that our credit card machine stopped working at Bitter Beans," I said, seeing the pieces fit together. "That was the same day you started working at the ferry terminal. You were stealing people's credit cards!"
"Do you know how many cards are used every day?" she said. "Nobody uses cash. All those cards! All those cards at my fingertips from people who are getting ready to spend their money right and left!"
"LINDA!" Doyle shouted.
"Just like the scams you used to run, Doyle," she hissed back at him. "Just like you told me about, the good old days at the carnival. We were going to go big!"
"It all just spun out of control," he tried to explain to Johnny. "I never meant it to turn into all this."
"You were the one who said I needed to get the tollbooth job on Seaside. It was such a sweet little spot, occupied by one wretched lady everybody hated," Linda clarified.
Doyle held his hands out. He began to explain from the beginning. "Linda and I met at the carnival on the mainland. A few months back, I went to go visit some old friends and Linda was running the pie truck. She was just as pretty as a picture. One thing led to another. Times were tough for her, though. Having to work two jobs? So I showed her how to swipe people's credit cards. We got to talking about great it would be if we were together, but Linda was stuck on the mainland and I was stuck on the island. And that got us talking about Georgia's booth. We could be together if Linda go
t that job. And we could keep our little side business with the credit cards going. I wouldn't have to sponge off of you and the dive shop, Johnny. I mean, everybody hated Georgia... it made sense at the time..."
Johnny leaned against the wall and sank down to the ground. He kept looking from Linda to his dad to Linda again. "So you killed her?"
"Oh, there was a lot more to it than that—" Linda began.
"STOP IT, LINDA!" said Doyle.
"I know, Dad," said Johnny. He clasped his hands together and stared at his knees. "We found the stuff at Georgia's house. I know she was my aunt."
Doyle melted against the bars. "Georgia was a horrible woman, Johnny. She was the worst woman you've ever met. She made life a living hell for your mother and me. I swear. Your mom was always a wildcat, but Georgia drove her over the edge. Georgia always blamed your mother for driving away Byron, the man Georgia loved. Said if I had never been around, Byron would have hung around for at least one of them. She got into your mom's head. She's the one that drove your mom to take off and leave you. She would never have left if it hadn't been for Georgia. I know that killing Georgia was wrong... but... it seemed like it was going to solve so many problems..."