“And look what happened. Rachel’s a mess. Remy’s barely functioning. Josh is gone. Sam…” A blond head shook, wisps of thin hair flying in the breeze. “Sam’s not sure of anything. He blames himself, for what happened.”
“Not unlike someone else I know.”
“Sam was innocent. Remy and Josh too.” Evan stood. “Maybe they’re better off, without someone like me to screw things up.”
Without warning, a fist collided with Evan’s face. “Fucking hell, Eric!” the handyman yelped. “What the…?”
“No,” the curly-haired man snapped. “No, you fucking don’t.” He stood tense, ready to take a blow if Evan should throw it. Wide eyes watched as Evan cradled his jaw, which was starting to turn a rich shade of purple. “I know you too well, Evan Dyer, or whatever the hell your name is today. Rachel is everything to you. Those kids are everything to you. Don’t you for one fucking minute think that running again is going to solve any of this. How’d it work for you the last time?”
“Don’t. You don’t know what…”
“Then tell me. I’ve heard you, talking to Rachel. “Secrets opened the door to all this,” you said. Secrets didn’t put those kids in danger, and cost one of them their life. Greedy, selfish, amoral assholes did that. You want to stop running, hold on to what you have? ’Cause from where I’m standing, it’s worth sticking around for.”
Evan closed his eyes. “She’d be a fool to keep me. Remy and Sam? I’m surprised they don’t blame me more for what happened. Likely as not the house’ll be shut down, and then what? What happens to Remy then? There’s no one left, Eric. No one.”
“Then come clean. We’ve gotten bits and pieces of what happened in…what is it? North or South Carolina?”
“North Carolina. Small town near Chapel Hill.”
“Fine. Start there. And this time, don’t leave anything out. Not one thing, or so help me God, I’ll hit you again. And I’m not a violent man, Evan. You know that.” Eric strode back to his frigid deck chair and sat, looking expectantly at the man before him.
Evan sighed, looking nervously around him as though searching for a way out. He took a breath. “I…I was forced into pharmacy school.”
“Forced? How so?”
“My father. He was a rich, successful asshole who expected nothing less from his sons. By the time I left high school, I already had an ulcer from the pressure. Then he shows me my acceptance papers into a pharmacy program and tells me it’s that or nothing. Nothing was not a real option. I’d never had a job; there was always money, so working part-time was frowned upon. I didn’t qualify for student loans, not the kind I didn’t have to repay immediately anyway. No experience, no hope of finding a way out, so I caved and went.”
“Miserable?”
“There were days I seriously contemplated suicide.” Evan looked at the ground, ashamed. “I was a coward. My father literally held all the cards, and even my mother took the easy option. She drank herself to death. Not unlike Cooper Lavelle, but she had more decorum about it than that asshole could ever possess. Once I started my internship, it only got worse. The pharmacy folks were nice enough, but the job…” The angular head shook. “I ended up with scripts for amphetamines to focus and antianxiety pills to calm the fuck down. My internist in Carolina said I was on a fast track to a nervous breakdown.”
“Explains what happened after that guy called, saying he had the kids.”
“I was due. Anyway, those types of drugs are highly controlled—the Adderall more than the Xanax, but they keep an eye on the latter as well—so eventually I’d start ‘losing’ a couple of bottles and get emergency refills. I was going through them too fast.”
“Hence the addiction.”
Evan nodded. “Finally I realized I couldn’t keep that up, so I had to find someone who dealt secondhand. Stealing from my pharmacy, it just wasn’t an option. I was an addict, but I wasn’t about to throw everything else down the drain. Finally I ran into Dayton. We’d known each other from grade school, and he sold to me for a while.”
“And it went south when…?”
“I got behind on my payments. He’d floated me a few pills, but that was adding up fast. I owed Dayton about a thousand dollars, and I couldn’t hide it in my expense account.” Evan paused. “My father had control of my bank accounts too, seeing as I wasn’t working at anything that paid. If I’d have taken the money out without being able to justify it, he would have owned my ass.”
“Wow. And I thought my old man was tough.”
“I hated him. Still do. I could care less if I ever see him again.” Feet shifted in the snow, crunching as though they were stepping on glass. “He’s still alive, far as I know. I don’t know how my brothers deal with him.”
“Anyway, what happened?”
Evan snorted. “Dayton comes demanding payment. I blew him off, offered to catch up once I got a real pharmacy job—you know, actually getting paid. He saw the place I interned at, a bigger pharmacy not unlike Hanover’s. Then he gets the idea that I could pay him off by feeding him pills to sell.”
“You didn’t…”
“Of course not. I offered him double what I owed to forget the idea, and for a while he let it drop.”
Eric chuckled darkly, without mirth. “Guessing that didn’t last.”
“One night I get a call. It’s him. Says he’s got a plan, and that I need to let him into the pharmacy. I tell him I don’t have keys, and I can’t just let him in. He got mad and said he was getting in one way or another. I dropped the phone and I ran like hell over there. The lead pharmacist was working that night, and I pulled him into the little office he had and spilled my guts—the addiction, Dayton, everything. I told him that Dayton was coming, and thankfully Keith believed me enough to call the police. An hour later, Dayton shows up with a crew of three guys, all armed. We hid in the office and let them break in, with the police hiding outside. Just as he got the door open, he was arrested.”
“All of them?”
“Yes. He saw me come out of the office, and he swore revenge on me right there. Later I had to testify, and I did. My testimony is what put him away for intent and conspiracy to commit armed robbery and breaking and entering, as well as a couple of weapons charges.”
Eric looked confused. “They couldn’t get him on an actual robbery charge?”
“Once the police got there, they set it up and waited to see if I was blowing smoke out my ass. Because of that, his fancy lawyer could claim an illegal sting operation. The prosecutors wanted to try him for armed robbery, but conspiracy and intent was the best they could do, because even though they were armed nothing actually got stolen. The intent and the conspiracy were obvious, though, especially after my testimony. The weapons charges just let them have the wiggle room to have him put in prison rather than jail.”
“I knew dealers had money, but a fancy lawyer?”
Evan shook his head. “Dayton did okay, but not that well. He was looking to me to supply him, remember? No, his family was rich, like mine, but more so. Dayton grew up to be one of those entitled brats you see idolized on television. Only difference was, he had a habit of breaking laws and making the family look bad. He never planned to actually do anything except inherit and be rich. His dad was a self-made millionaire. He saw his son for what he was and cut him off. Once he was busted, they completely disowned him. The lawyer was the last thing, to my knowledge, that they paid for.”
“Wow.” Eric let out a low whistle. “Talk about rocking someone’s world.”
“Three weeks after the trial, I was attacked in my apartment. Someone—I didn’t know who it was—tried to cut my throat. I still have a scar.” Evan pointed at the thin line just under his jawline, now nearly invisible. “I’d quit pharmacy school a week prior. My dad was furious, and not only disowned me, but forbade anyone from ever so much as mentioning me in his presence ever again. My bank accounts were closed out, and I was selling off the few things I had just to eat. Thankfully, the old tru
ck was in my name, and paid off, or he’d have had it seized too.” Evan sighed. “I knew who would want me dead, and why. After the attack I threw my stuff into the truck and I ran. I didn’t really stop until the old engine died, about a mile from Rachel’s. I couldn’t prove Dayton had ordered the attack on my life and I didn’t want to wait for him to try again.”
“Well, I forgive you for running from that place,” Eric said, offering a hand. Evan clasped it. “No wonder you changed your name.”
“I’d heard the name Evan in between Carolina and Otter Lake. I liked it. It was short, simple, kind of like I was. I was in a shop called Dyer’s, and I thought it made a good last name. I felt that if my old man didn’t want me, he could keep the name too. I made my own. Plus, I didn’t want Dayton finding me, for fear…” He cleared his throat. “I never really felt I was Liam Collier anyway.”
“Liam Collier? That’s your original name?”
“Mm-hmm.” The sky began to turn purple, and the sun was blazing like a fiery ball in the west. “But I’m Evan Dyer now. They’ll put it on my obituary, too.” At the word, Evan choked up again. “Josh,” he said. “Have they…?”
Eric shrugged. “Knowing Penny, she’ll have a service. I’m going to go. So will Becka. You should go too.”
“But…no one will want me there. And Remy…what if people blame him?”
“Why? Why would they? He’s not his uncle.”
The little yard grew quiet. “There’s something Cooper said, just after Josh was…”
“What?”
“He told the shooter that ‘he wasn’t losing his inheritance,’ or something like that. What the hell was he talking about? What inheritance?”
Square shoulders rolled as Eric stood, working some feeling back into his frozen legs. “I don’t know. Maybe Frank can dig something up. I never knew he was a lawyer before now. Always struck me as the private eye type.”
“Me neither.” Evan’s stomach growled. “I’m starving.”
“There’s chili in the cabin. Was up all night making it.”
“I could go for chili. Maybe some crackers, too.” The pair got up and went into the cabin. “Least the place has enough firewood,” Evan added. “Might bring Rachel and the kids up here, just to get away for a bit. I don’t think Frank would mind.”
A small smile crossed Eric’s face. “Sticking around?”
“I just proposed to the girl. Already have one big grown-up kid in Remy.” He sighed. “It’ll take time, but…we’ll get through it. Somehow, hopefully, we’ll get through it.”
Chapter 43
It was loud inside the house. Remy escaped to the back porch, where the sounds of Josh’s music collection dulled to a low roar and he didn’t have to see more people crying. He’d liked the idea of having an open house of sorts for Josh, but it seemed less like people were talking and remembering and more like people were staring at him. And there were a lot of people. A lot.
The back porch overlooked a small yard, complete with a private dock that stretched out onto the lake. A giant weeping willow tree stood to the left, halfway between the house and the water. It was enclosed, with large glass windows that let Remy feel like he was watching a nature show on television. He’d gone there in the past to escape Josh’s endless questions or annoying comments, but now he found he’d give almost anything to hear the younger man’s ever rambling chatter.
“Hey.”
Remy turned and saw Walter Longoria sitting in an overstuffed armchair. It was the one Josh used to curl up in when he wanted to hide from doing dishes. “Hey, Walter.”
“Josh’s gone.” The young man’s high voice, usually louder than a sonic boom, came out in a thin, muted whisper.
“Yeah. He is.”
“I miss him.”
Remy took the longer chaise lounge and flopped onto it, mussing up his black dress jacket Rachel had picked out for him and the bright green t-shirt underneath it. “Me too.”
“He-he-he was my best friend.”
Remy sighed. “I know. You were his best friend too.”
“Yeah. I was. But he-he-he really liked you though. And Sam. You know? He-he-he wanted to be you guys when he-he-he got older.”
“He wanted to be us?” Remy was taken aback with surprise. “Why us?”
“He-he-he th-thought…thought you were cool. Like from a m-movie, you know? Right out of the movies. And Sam, he-he-he’s smart. Like sp-space alien smart.”
Remy shook his head, trying to hide the smile on his face. “Space alien smart?”
“Dude. The guy knows e-e-everything, and he-he-he can’t e-e-even see. Like, anything. See? Sp-space alien smart.”
Remy decided to leave that one alone. “So, Josh wanted to be us.”
“Yeah. Get girls, pretty girls, like you, and be smart. But he-he-he was funny.”
“He was.” Remy looked at Walter, whose arms were getting more and more animated as he talked. His black-and-orange baseball cap was askew on his head, wisps of brown hair sticking up as though they’d never seen a brush they liked. His dress pants were badly wrinkled, and there was a dark stain on the right knee. He wore a paisley bow tie with his loud neon-orange and white tie-dyed shirt. “Josh did know how to make people laugh.”
“Josh said…Josh said he-he-he chopped down the Christmas tree this year. With…with a real axe and e-e-everything.”
“Well, he did help pick it out.” It took Remy a moment to remember that Walter was famous for inventing stories out of a few basic but nonetheless true facts. “He got to help carry it. We had to have Evan do more than just drive the truck.” He gave a small conspiratorial smile to Walter, and the younger man beamed.
“Yeah, yeah, that was it! He-he-he bossed Evan, and made him cut the tree!”
Close enough, Remy thought. He nodded in agreement.
Then Walter’s face drooped. “I miss him,” he said.
“Me too, Walter.” Remy hesitantly clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Me too.”
Chapter 44
The living room was full of people. The sounds of voices, even as hushed and muted as they were, was beginning to hurt Sam’s ears. An endless tread of footsteps passed by the staircase where the tall man had holed up, curled into himself. The drone of the CD player wasn’t helping matters.
A rush of wind blew at him as the door opened, and the house grew quiet. There was only one set of footsteps discernible to him, and it was a pattern Sam knew well. “Evan,” Miss Rachel’s proclamation confirmed what Sam already knew. Her voice nearly broke on the name.
Something shuffled, like cloth being rubbed. Then three more footsteps. “Penny, Mark,” Evan said, his voice more delicate than glass. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Mr. Long said. “Thank you.” Sam could hear what he thought was a hand patting Evan’s back, but he wasn’t quite sure. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Long said. She sounded like she’d been crying. There was more cloth shuffling, and then the rest of the guests began to pick up their normal chatter. It wasn’t until Sam felt someone sit down next to him on the stairs that he realized he’d zoned out.
“How are you doing, Sam?”
“It…it’s hard. I…I can still feel him, on my back.”
“He loved you, Sam.”
“I…I know. But he didn’t have to do that. I’d have been okay.”
Evan shifted a little next to him, and cleared his throat. “Did you guys help set this up?”
“Oh, yeah. Mrs. Long was here all night. Mr. Long came this morning. He had to work last night. Plus I think we’ve had people sitting on the porch the past couple of nights.”
“Which porch?”
“The back one. It’s warmer, for one thing.”
“You think?”
Sam shrugged. “There’s a lot of noise back there. I think so, but I’m not sure. Remy and Miss Rachel didn’t notice, so I didn’t say anything.”
“Next time, Sam, say som
ething. It’s those little things that will make the difference.” The sound of joints creaking and popping graced Sam’s ears. “Spent the last few days clearing my head and cutting a lot of firewood. Ever been to a cabin?”
“No,” Sam said. “I went to schools. I can get around a dorm pretty well.”
“Maybe we’ll all go back up there, take a few days.”
“I didn’t know you had a cabin.”
“I don’t. It’s Mr. Parker’s cabin.”
The name reminded Sam of something. “Oh, by the way, he came while you were gone. Said there was something interesting he wanted to tell you.”
“Did he say what?”
“No. Just that you would want to know. He kept asking about Remy too. They talked for a while, but when I asked Remy what it was about, he didn’t say much.”
The door opened again, and the sound of patent leather clicked against the worn floorboards. “Who’s that?” he asked. “I don’t know those shoes.”
A puff of air snorted out of Evan’s nostrils. “It’s your dad,” he said. “What could he want here?”
The patent leathers clicked their way toward the stairs, embarking on them and rising to the fifth step. “Sam,” a deep voice said.
“Hello,” Sam said.
“I’m sorry, Mr…Dyer, is it?”
“Evan. Yeah. What can I do for you?”
“I came to pay my respects. No one should lose a child.” There was a quality to his father’s tone that Sam had never liked. It always made him think of someone who thought they were better than everyone else around them, and Sam hated people like that. “Those poor people.”
“I’m sure Mark and Penny will appreciate it.” Evan’s voice was stiff and cold, almost too formal. It didn’t sound like him at all.
“Sam,” his father said. “Once things have died down, I’m sending for your things. There’s a new program near your sister’s that looks promising, and they accepted you last week.”
“What new program?” Sam frowned. “Leslie would have called…”
In the House On Lakeside Drive Page 21