“Actually,” a voice with a steady Southern accent said,” I’m hoping you can help me. I’m looking for…” the man pulled out a newspaper clipping from his pocket. “Um, I’m looking for Evan Dyer?”
“What do you want with Evan?” Remy asked, already on guard.
“I understand you’re a little uneasy. I’m just…an old friend that wanted to say hi.”
Remy gave the man the once over. He was tall, extremely thin—the figure before him made Sam look positively obese, as skinny as he was—with wispy blond hair and pale green eyes. He had a chiseled jaw, and an easy demeanor about him. Remy’s defenses began to soften a little, and he said, “He’s here. I can get him for you.”
“Thanks. I’m sure he’s not expecting me.” The man came into the front hall, shrugging off the light coat that had covered his shoulders.
“Head on in there. I’ll…oh, wait. He’s coming in now.” The sight of the house’s caretakers walking back from the dock put Remy even more at ease, and soon he found the guest chatting with Sam and Mr. Parker.
“Long drive?”
“It’s not close, I’ll say. I kind of wondered why my…friend decided to live here, once I found out where he was,” the man explained.
“I’m sorry, I must have missed it,” Mr. Parker said. He gave Remy a knowing eye. “Did you mention your name?”
“Ah, no, not yet. I’m Andy.” He smiled. “I’ve been looking for Li…Evan a long time. We…we lost touch.”
“From Carolina, are you?”
“Yes. The, uh, the newspapers are carrying bits of this thing you all were involved in even as far as that.” He smoothed out the wrinkled article with long, bony fingers. Remy peered at it, seeing a headshot of himself, Sam, Josh, and Evan, as well as a photo of the house where they had been held and where Josh had died. “I hadn’t had the chance to make the trip until now. Back home, it’s all anyone can talk about. I remember Dayton Spaulding. He was a…”
“Evil, vicious jackass?” a voice said, coming from the back kitchen door. Remy turned to see Evan and Rachel standing there, Rachel looking puzzled and Evan’s face reflecting his shock. “Where did you come from?” he asked.
“The front door. Before that, Carolina, same place you left me.” A smile broke across the stranger’s face. “It is so good to see you, Liam. Sorry, sorry. Evan. Gotta remember that now.”
“He…he said his name was Andy,” Remy explained, guilt gnawing at his insides. “I…I…”
Evan walked over to the man and wrapped his arms around him in a giant bear hug. “Andy,” he said, his voice cracking. “Oh, my God. How…when…?”
“Your story made the national news,” Andy explained. “’Course the papers back home ran it like wildfire. They used your new name, not the one before. People were more shocked by the crime than anything. Plus it had the added bonus of being related to a big family down there, and they plastered Dayton’s face all over the place. The Spauldings are mortified. Just…mortified.”
“I remember Mr. and Mrs. Spaulding,” Evan said, pulling up a chair. Rachel did likewise. “Rachel, Remy, Sam, Frank—this is my little brother, Andy. God, there are days I’ve wondered about you and Ian. How are you?”
“Brother?” Sam asked. “I didn’t know you had brothers.”
“Two of ’em. I was the oldest. I haven’t seen or spoken to them since my dad threw me out.”
“Not like some of us haven’t tried,” Andy said. “I always wondered where you ended up. Didn’t have to get yourself nearly killed to reach out, you know.”
“Always thought you’d be towing the Collier line,” Evan admitted. “You know how Dad can be.”
“Oh, he still is. Mean and ornery as ever. He’s…well, they retired him about a year ago, so now he’s home being even meaner and ornerier. Claims he was pushed out so some kid at the firm could get on the letterhead.”
“Well, nothing ever is his fault,” Evan said. “Did he screw up on a case?”
“No. I think the firm’s looking to trim a little excess, and Dad happened to be one of those.” He shrugged. “It’s not like he needed to work anyway. He’s got plenty left.”
“So, what brings you to Otter Lake?” Rachel asked. “Aside from Evan, that is.”
“I wanted to see for myself what kind of life he had here,” Andy said. “We…we weren’t allowed to talk about or discuss my brother after he and Dad had their falling out.”
Evan looked his youngest brother up and down. “You’re…you’re a stick,” he said. “Don’t you eat?”
“Try not to. These last couple years of med school suck.” Andy made a face.
“Medicine, huh?” Evan shook his head. “Still hasn’t given that up?”
“Well, Ian went into business. Decided to choose it rather than get forced. Believe me, he saw what happened with you and took a few steps, anyway. He’s doing okay. Hates his job, but he’s okay. He’s married now, nice girl, works for his father-in-law. The Stapletons, they are.”
“Hates working for his father-in-law, huh?”
“Not him so much as the job itself. He’s a stockbroker.”
Everyone in the room rolled their eyes. “Yuck,” Remy said. “Man, I feel sorry for him.”
“He hates it. But he’s got little ones, so….”
“Kids? Ian? Really?” Evan asked. “God, so much has changed.”
“One each, a niece and a nephew. Tara’s about three, and they just had Benjamin.” Andy looked at the assortment of people before him. “Seems you did pretty well yourself.”
“Rachel and I are engaged,” Evan said. “Haven’t set a date yet, what with the media circus and all.”
“Don’t blame you. Congratulations, by the way. Be sure to send me an invite.”
“Of course!” Rachel said. “I’d like to send one to…Ian, is it? That is, if you think he’d like one too.”
“Yeah. It’d do him good to get out of the city. That’s one thing about this place—it sure is cold, but it is peaceful here.”
“I ended up here on accident,” Evan admitted. “That old truck of mine lost its engine about a mile up the road. In the dead of winter, no less.” He smiled. “The first house I came to for help I ended up moving into. Still live in it, actually.”
Andy casually glanced at Remy and Sam. “Got kids too, I guess.”
“Hey,” Sam said, his voice half mocking. “We’re not kids.”
“All a matter of perspective,” Frank pointed out. “To us old folks, you’re all kids.” He smiled.
“Rachel used to rent out rooms here to some of the students at the special school in town. She works at the school too, as a teacher’s assistant.”
“And you…I mean, what do you do? For a living. I’m guessing not anything medicine related.”
Evan chuckled. “Believe it or not, I have a handyman business. I fix things. I mow lawns. I rake leaves and shovel snow. Sometimes I even work as a sub up at OLBC. The principal there, she’s been…”
“Whoa. What’s OLCB?”
“The special school,” Frank supplied. “Otter Lake Bridges Center, or OLBC for short. It’s a transitional school for young adults with disabilities. Takes students from ages eighteen to twenty-six.”
“Twenty-six? That’s a long time!” Andy exclaimed.
“Michigan is the only state that accepts students with disabilities into transitional programs that long,” Rachel said. “Most states end their programs by the time students turn between nineteen and twenty-one. It’s a good program, and it helps a lot of young people and their families.”
“It’s not bad,” Remy said. “We go to work, too. Learn job skills and how to make friends and stuff.”
“I get some specialized training there too, for mobility,” Sam offered. “There’re a few blind students at OLBC that take those classes with me. Plus I have to go to work too.”
“Now that sounds like a story,” Andy said. His face fell. “I really hate med school.”
&nb
sp; “So quit,” Evan said. “Don’t end up like me, scared of what everyone else will think. True, I’ve lost about a third of my business because of this mess, but the clients I kept use me now more than ever. And I don’t worry about making anyone other than myself happy. The people that care will understand, and the ones that don’t are…”
“Assholes,” Remy and Sam said in unison, though not meaning to. Everyone laughed.
“Truth be told, I took a double major in college,” Andy said. “Dad couldn’t figure out why there were so many writing classes on my schedule. Told him it was a new thing for all majors. I took a creative writing major too. I’ve been doing some piecemeal work for a couple of papers over the past year. I had hoped to get an in on this story, but I think I’ll let someone else have that byline. Just seeing my brother was enough.”
“You want a story?” Frank Parker asked. “Oh, I’m sure these lads can give you a story, right?”
“Sure. How about the tenant that froze his iPod?” Sam said. “Josh liked that one.”
“Or how about the eggs at Christmas?” Rachel said. “Josh nearly set the place on fire, that time.”
“I think I caught him throwing rocks at Cooper Lavelle that one time, when Sam nearly got arrested,” Evan said.
Andy chuckled. “It would make a nice human interest piece. Everyone’s so caught up in the scandal of the trial and what happened, they forgot there were real people involved here. You…you wouldn’t mind telling me a few of those stories?”
“Let me call Penny Long,” Rachel said. “That’s Josh Long’s mom. I’m sure she’d agree to something like that. Plus, we can find out what she and Rosa have been up to.”
“Great!” Andy beamed. “I mean, I know you said no interviews, but…”
“This is one time we’ll make an exception,” Evan said. Remy and Sam agreed.
“Let me finish these cookies and I’ll sit down,” Sam said. Andy watched as Sam measured, mixed, and spooned more batter onto trays and put them in the oven. “There. Now, what did you want to know first?”
Chapter 51
The article turned out better than expected. The heat of summer had overtaken the town of Otter Lake, and the sounds of lawnmowers and motorboat engines permeated the air. Evan leaned back on the front porch, ruffling out the two-page spread Andy’s story had received.
“Nice pictures,” a voice commented, and Evan looked over his paper to find Eric Ingham walking up the driveway. “Didn’t think you’d sit for something like that, really.”
Evan shrugged. “The writer was my little brother. He’s not half bad, truth be told. Got a good career ahead of him.” He chuckled. “I hear tell the North Kingston papers liked his work a lot. So did the one back in Carolina. He’s got a few choices to make.”
Eric took the porch chair next to his friend and looked out at the tree-lined road in the distance. “Where are Remy and Sam?”
“Movies. It’s too hot to function here lately, and when Remy said, and I quote, “Screw this, it’s too hot to live,” I told them to get out of the house. The air conditioner’s been on the fritz too, and I’ve gotta call in an expert. We’ve passed what I can reasonably fix myself.”
“You have to be the only guy in the world that can make that admission, Evan.” Eric eyed his friend’s glass of iced tea longingly. “Got any more?”
“In the kitchen. Help yourself.” The sounds of feet hurrying toward the house faded quickly, and Evan looked down at the article again. A nice picture of the current occupants of the old boarding house sitting around the kitchen table accompanied the headline, while on the opposite page the photo of Remy, Sam, and Josh that had hung in Josh’s room took a prominent place between the mountains of text. Andy had mixed in the anecdotes he’d received with some facts from the case, and Penny Long had been instrumental in making sure the two came together seamlessly.
“You know, I always liked that picture,” Eric said, iced tea in hand. He pointed to the photo of Rachel’s last tenants, two of whom were now permanent fixtures in the house. “Kind of describes what people got out of Rachel’s program. Hope Penny and Mark know what they’re getting into, taking it on.”
“She was a social worker, before Josh came along, and Mark’s pretty level headed,” Evan said. “I think she’ll do just fine. Plus, they’ve bought Frank Parker’s old place to use as the site. Tickled him pink to think his wife’s students would be living in her house.”
“I thought he had relatives.”
“Nephews. He calls them lazy, shiftless, worthless excuses of people. He told me he sold it to Penny and the school just as much for Lola’s sake as he did sticking it to his nephews.”
“So where’s he living now?”
“Here. Told me that he planned to live out the rest of his life with people he knew would care about him. At the rate he’s going, he’ll outlive all of us.”
“Got that right, you young upstarts,” Frank said, chuckling as he took over the porch swing. “Heavens, but it’s hot. I’d give about anything for a nice snowfall right about now.”
“There’s tea in the refrigerator. But hurry—at the rate it’s going, it won’t last.” Evan watched a group of four girls walk down the road, dressed only in bathing suits and long cover-up shirts. “I think even Papa Jack is starting to run out of sodas and ice cream. It’s going to be a long summer.”
“True. But it will be an adventure.” Frank stood up, his arthritic knees giving him a little trouble. “Soon as those boys get back I plan to start dinner. I was thinking…”
“Oh, no, Frank. The air conditioner’s broke. If we make that house any hotter inside, Rachel will throw us all out on the lawn.” Evan smiled. “Good thing she’s out with Becka now. She decided to beat the heat by doing a little shopping.”
“I know they planned to stop by the old place as well,” Frank said. “I believe they’re calling it Lola’s Place now, and hanging that giant photo of the boys in the front hall. My wife would have approved.”
“I’m glad, Frank,” Eric said, tipping his tea glass to him. “I kind of remember her. She was a funny lady.”
“Very much so. Oh, but you would have liked her, Evan. The things that came out of her mouth sometimes…” He chuckled. “I could write a book.”
“Well, I plan on going to Gio’s for dinner,” Evan said. “Just as soon as the kids get home.”
“Sounds good,” Eric said. “I’m in.”
“I think I’ll join you,” Frank added. “I find myself fancying one of those cold cannolis they keep on hand.”
The blare of Evan’s phone interrupted them. “Evan,” he answered. “Yes, hello, Mr. Longoria. You…you what? Well, did you call…? Okay.” He sighed. “I want you to wait for the fire department. Once they have a look, find out what can be saved, if anything. Was anyone hurt?” There was a pause. “Good, that’s good. Whatever you do, don’t touch anything. Okay? Uh-huh. Well, after the fire department leaves, I’ll be over to see what I can do, all right? There’s not a lot we’re gonna do before then. I can be there tomorrow morning at the earliest. Uh-huh. Okay. See you then. Bye.” Another sigh escaped Evan’s lungs, this one bigger than the first.
“What happened?” Eric asked.
“Is everyone all right?” Frank queried.
“Well, seems Mr. Longoria managed to fry his toaster. Which shorted out the socket it was plugged into, and caused a fire to travel the length of the wire behind the drywall.”
“The house isn’t on fire?” the Englishman asked, looking poised to get up.
“No, thankfully they managed to put out the fire. But it’s gonna be a fix. Plus he needs to call the fire department to see if it was a short or a problem with the toaster that caused it. Dangerous to work on something like that without clearance.”
“Looks like your business is picking up,” Eric said. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“If they pay me in money. I don’t think I can take another rack of ribs or a case of be
er as payment.”
Frank chuckled. “You never know. When I was growing up, it was common to pay for services that way. I remember my mother paying the neighbor down the lane with a free breakfast if he would mow our garden for us. He had the garden mower, you see—very expensive back then, and that was if you could get one.”
The whoosh of the city bus taking off from its stop drew Evan’s attention. Two familiar figures strolled from the stop down the driveway, one waggling his white cane as though it were a heavy sword. “Be careful, Sam!” he called out. “There’s a hole in the road some…”
“Found it!” the youth called back. The pair scurried up to the porch, eager to see the newspaper. “Was it good?” Sam asked.
“Andy did a fine job. We were thinking Gio’s for dinner, seeing as it’s hot.”
“Great!” Remy said. “They’ve got that new salad I wanna try…”
“Ice cream sounds great,” Sam added. “What are we waiting for?”
Evan pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Last one…”
The young men were off like a shot. Behind him, Frank chuckled. “Makes you feel young, doesn’t it?”
Evan smiled as he looked out at his family and friends. “It does, Frank. It certainly does.”
Acknowledgements
So much has changed since I started writing eight years ago. For one, I’ve figured out my process, and it takes not only an amazing amount of imagination but an awful lot of folks to both inspire me and to help me make sure that I’m not accidentally killing people off with weird ingredients in a recipe or letting people get off with charges that don’t actually exist. It also takes some special people to give me an honest opinion about my work (Lord knows I am an awful editor) and to be willing to tell me when I need to change things.
That said, there are a few people without whom I could have never gotten this story written.
First and foremost, I’d like to thank Beth Kapteyn and Ari Dasgupta for their insights into the pharmacy profession. I still can’t remember the brand names of things half the time, and for sure when I asked them, “what’s the easiest thing to get hooked on in a pharmacy?” they thought I was stark raving mad. Thanks guys.
In the House On Lakeside Drive Page 25