Shades of Truth

by Sandra Orchard

  Curt came to Ethan’s mind. Initially, Ethan feared that the rapport he’d established with the boy would scare off their suspect. But Curt’s recent uneasiness had convinced Ethan that contact had been made. Ethan needed a name, but he also wanted to ensure Curt didn’t get sucked in. So, what had gone wrong?

  Why had Curt suddenly thrown up all the walls Ethan had painstakingly torn down?

  You don’t want to know.

  Beanpole’s words to Kim jolted Ethan’s thoughts. She’d seemed nervous when recounting their discussion…as if she was afraid he would read too much into it. But he already knew someone in this operation was dirty. She was the one who didn’t want to know.

  Ethan hurried to the staff entrance. Apparently, he’d been talking to the wrong resident.

  “What are you doing in my room?” Darryl growled.

  Kim started at his sudden appearance, and then quickly shoved closed the drawer she’d been searching. She hadn’t found anything to connect him to any wrongdoing at the manor.

  A scrap of paper fluttered to the carpet. She picked it up and gasped at the name scrawled above a phone number. Greg. Kim sank onto the edge of the bed.

  Darryl snatched the paper from her hand and crumpled it in his fist. “It’s nothing.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me it’s nothing. Greg’s dead. What do you know about that?”

  The stricken look on Darryl’s face cut off her breath. He stalked down the stairs.

  “Don’t you dare walk out on me,” she shrieked, chasing after him. “We need to talk.”

  He detoured into the living room, picked up the remote control and flicked off the TV. By the time he dropped into a chair, he looked so utterly defeated Kim’s heart wrenched.

  He inhaled as if it took all his energy to draw a breath. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  Her stomach knotted. “Do about what?”

  Mom appeared in the doorway, a dusting of flour in her hair and oven mitts on her hands. She and Darryl exchanged a loaded glance. The kind of glance Kim had only ever seen twice before—the first time she’d been assigned to a suicide watch, and the night Dad had told her he had cancer. When Kim asked Dad about his prognosis, he’d given Mom that look and then said, “Excellent.” Six months later he was admitted to the hospital. In the case of the suicide watch, the youth had claimed he was fine, but the nurse’s eyes said “Don’t believe him.” Six hours later, he was dead—strangled himself with a bedsheet.

  Mom perched on the sofa beside Kim and, with a calm deliberateness, removed one oven mitt at a time. “Darryl’s just upset about your car trouble. I assured him it was nothing.”

  Kim’s gaze ping-ponged between Mom and Darryl. “No, that’s not it. Is it, Darryl? You don’t know what to do about what? Greg? Me? The manor? What?”

  With each question, Darryl’s cheek muscles flinched. He raked his fingers through his hair. “Yes.”

  The knot in Kim’s stomach tightened. He’s my brother, Lord. Please don’t let it be my brother. “Yes to which one?”

  “All of them.” His voice sounded beyond tired. Beaten.

  Kim swallowed hard. “About the drugs, too?”

  The remorse in Darryl’s eyes tore at her soul.

  “Why?” she breathed, drawing in barely enough air to be audible.

  “It’s my fault,” Mom said. “For your father’s sake, I begged him to do what Derk asked.”

  “Who’s Derk?”

  Darryl exhaled. “I think he might be the head of the drug ring that’s moved into Miller’s Bay.”

  The drug ring? Mom had begged him to listen to the head of a drug ring? This couldn’t be happening. “Why on earth would you do what a drug lord tells you?”

  Darryl and Mom exchanged another look.

  A sense of foreboding gripped Kim’s heart. “And what does any of this have to do with Dad?”

  “Derk said he could prove Dad was an accessory—” Darryl broke off and swallowed.

  “An accessory to what?”

  “Murder.”

  FIFTEEN

  Murder? No way.

  Kim stared across the living room at her brother in disbelief. “And you believed him?”

  “No. Not at first. Not until I talked to Mom.”

  “What?” Her gaze swung to Mom, who gave her a sad smile.

  Kim dug her fingers into the edge of the sofa cushion, feeling as if the floor had opened into a gaping hole and everything she held dear teetered at the precipice.

  “Derk told me that if I didn’t do what he said, he’d ruin Dad.” Darryl’s words barely registered as Kim grappled to absorb the shock. “Ruin everything he’d worked for. Ruin his family.”

  “When your father was young,” Mom explained, and Kim tried to focus, “he got caught up with this Derk fellow. They planned a robbery together, but it went bad. Derk shot the guard.”

  “Dad’s a felon?”

  Kim’s heart jammed in her throat. Dad was the most honest, God-fearing man she knew. How could he have this dark past he’d never told her about?

  “Your dad never got caught. He ran and didn’t stop running for days. He ended up in Miller’s Bay, tired, hungry and penniless. A farmer took him in and gave him a job. Remorse ate at him. The family took him to church, and your father drank in the message of forgiveness. He soon gave his life to the Lord and felt called to start a ministry for troubled boys. Eventually, that ministry became Hope Manor.”

  The room swayed. Dad had been one of those boys. She gripped the sofa arm. “Derk killed the guard?”

  “Yes, but your father didn’t know the man had died. Soon after I got pregnant with you, he read about Derk’s murder trial in the newspaper. Your father wanted to go to the police immediately and turn himself in, but I begged him not to. He’d turned his life around, was doing good work. We were having a baby. I couldn’t believe God would want him to sacrifice it all out of some misguided sense of doing the right thing.”

  Mom enfolded Kim’s hand in hers. “I know my selfishness kept Dad from doing what he felt he needed to do to make things right. He tried to hide it, but I could see how he wrestled with bouts of guilt.”

  Just like Ethan. Guilt had to be Satan’s most powerful weapon to keep believers from experiencing the fullness of God’s love. “What does this Derk guy expect to prove?”

  “I don’t know. But if he exposes your father’s past, innuendos will color people’s perceptions of everything he’s worked for.”

  The explanation skittered across Kim’s mind like the spray of gravel from Blake’s tires. And her heart pinched in acknowledgement. “Everyone in town will jump on the ‘close Hope Manor’ bandwagon.” No matter what she did, Hope Manor and the kids they tried to help would become the ultimate casualties.

  “I couldn’t bear to let your father see that happen,” Mom went on. “Not when he’d wanted to do the right thing all along. I was the one who didn’t trust God enough to take care of us.”

  Darryl squeezed Mom’s shoulder. “Since Dad wasn’t expected to live more than a few weeks, Mom asked me to go along with Derk’s demands. It didn’t seem like that big a deal. We’d planned to explain everything to the police as soon as Dad died.”

  “But your father has been hanging on for months,” Mom added, “and Derk’s demands persisted.”

  “This is crazy. Dad wouldn’t want you to do something illegal to protect him. We should go to the police, now.”

  “No,” Mom snapped. “I don’t want your father tormented by that man. Your father deserves to die in peace.”

  “Yes. But kids are dying from these drugs. Do you want that on your conscience?”

  “Kids who want to use drugs will get them whether Darryl steers them to Derk or
not.”

  “Mom, get your head out of the oven! We’re not talking about kids just getting high.”

  Mom’s eyes sparked, but Kim was too furious to apologize.

  “Three kids have died of overdoses,” she hissed. “All of them former residents. Residents Darryl recruited.”

  “What?” Mom’s startled gaze jerked to Darryl. “What’s she talking about? You never told me anyone died.”

  Darryl’s expression twisted. “More than Dad’s reputation is at stake.”

  “Yeah,” Kim said, her tone caustic enough to eat through his excuses. “You broke the law. You knew there’d be consequences.”

  “I’m not talking about me. I don’t care about me. They can throw me in jail and throw away the key for all I care. I never should’ve let Mom talk me into this crazy plan. But this guy has people everywhere. Powerful people. That’s how those kids ended up dead.”

  Mom wrung the oven mitts in her hands, looking horrified. “I didn’t know. I never should’ve asked you to go along with him.”

  “You didn’t know what kind of work Derk was offering the kids I recruited for him.” Darryl’s voice hitched. “I had assumed petty theft, the kind of stuff expunged from the records of young offenders once they hit eighteen. Then after Jake got picked up for selling drugs and wound up dead in the holding cell, I realized I couldn’t go to the police because Derk must have someone on the inside. I knew I had to get evidence of what he was doing.

  “I asked Greg to pretend to cooperate with him and report back to me. Only, Derk must’ve figured out that Greg intended to double-cross him.”

  “And you let him die!” Kim cried out. “You knew what Derk was capable of.”

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “You could’ve talked to Rick. You know he’s not a dirty cop. We’ll call him right now.” Kim reached for the phone.

  Darryl grabbed her hand. “We can’t.”

  “Yes, we can.” She yanked her hand free and started dialing. “You can’t let kids die to protect Dad.”

  Darryl slapped his finger over the disconnect button. “This isn’t about Dad anymore.”

  She pried off his finger. “No, it’s not. Because doing what’s right is more important here.”

  A car—Ethan’s Impala—barreled into the driveway.

  Kim rushed to the front door. It was past midnight. What was Ethan doing here? Did he already know about Darryl?

  Darryl plowed his hands through his hair and paced the room, wild-eyed. “You’ve got to trust me. I’m going to do the right thing. I don’t intend to let another person die.”

  Ethan stepped out of his car and rested his arm atop the door. The interior light spilled in a puddle on the ground. “Come on,” he called to her over the car’s roof. “That foster kid from church is missing. And I think I know where to find her.”

  Kim grabbed her purse and ran to the car. “How’d you hear Dina was missing?”

  “Her foster mother called the police.”

  Ethan shoved open the passenger door from the inside, and Kim climbed in automatically, as if they always went off chasing teenage runaways together. “Where do you think she is?”

  “A stretch of beach down the shore from Harbor Park.” In one move, he shifted into gear and roared out of the driveway. “I found a bunch of teens partying there the other night. All of them stoned.” His hands twisted on the steering wheel. “I told the chief to send regular patrols. I should’ve followed up, made sure they happened.”

  “She might’ve snuck out to meet a boy. Maybe lost track of time.”

  “Does she have a boyfriend?”

  The lights of the town shrank behind them, leaving only his headlights to cut through the yawning darkness ahead.

  “I don’t know. She was alone at the youth group meeting.” Deep down, Kim knew that the only reason she’d made the suggestion was because she didn’t want her brother blamed for another tragedy. She swallowed, searching for the right words to tell Ethan.

  The car rattled down a rutted, grassy lane leading to a secluded stretch of beach. No cars or kids were in sight.

  “The cops must’ve already cleared the place out.” Ethan sounded worried. As if maybe the wrong cops had done the clearing. He stopped abruptly, handed her a flashlight and jumped out. “Come on. This way.”

  The distinctive smell of marijuana smoke hit her nostrils the instant she climbed from the car. She hoped that was the worst Dina had done. “Dina,” Kim shouted. “Dina, are you here?”

  The scream of a killdeer pierced the darkness and, feigning a broken wing, the bird tried to lure them away from its haphazardly constructed nest.

  “Dina,” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth.

  A mess of footprints covered the ground around the remnants of a bonfire. Ethan held his hand to it. “Still warm.”

  “Dina! It’s Kim Corbett. I want to help you.”

  At the edge of the dunes a bush rustled.

  “This way.” Ethan darted up the dune.

  Kim scrambled after him. Damp sand seeped into her shoes and the chilly breeze cut through her shirt. The temperature dipped so low near the lake at night, Dina could be suffering from drugs and exposure.

  Ethan flung aside branches. “She’s not here.”

  “Dina,” Kim shouted again.

  A weak noise sounded to their left.

  Kim’s flashlight caught a reflective strip of cloth among the leaves. “Over there.” She pointed.

  Ethan reached Dina first. He fell to his knees and immediately checked her breathing. “She’s alive.”

  Thank You, Lord. Kim steadied her trembling hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

  In the dim beam of their flashlights, Dina’s eyes looked vacant.

  “We’ve got to get her to a hospital,” Ethan said, lifting her in his arms. “Call her parents and let them know we’re bringing her in.”

  Kim raced ahead to the car and called Dina’s foster parents, who agreed to meet them at the hospital.

  Ethan set Dina gently in the backseat. Kim climbed in beside her and wrapped an arm around the girl. “Everyone was so worried about you,” she said as Dina drifted into consciousness.

  Dina’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and then jerked forward.

  Ethan pulled onto the main road. The interior light faded. Ethan flicked on the override, and his worried gaze caught Kim’s in the rearview mirror. “Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know. Just hurry.”

  Dina started to say something, but the words came out garbled.

  “Shush, honey. Don’t try to talk. We’ll get you to the hospital,” Kim soothed.

  The second Ethan parked outside the E.R., Dina’s foster parents ran to the car and pulled Dina into their arms. A nurse coaxed them to release her into a wheelchair, then whisked her inside.

  Kim looked at Ethan, feeling a little stunned at how quickly Dina was removed from their care.

  “I’m sure they’ll have questions for us,” he said. “I’ll park in the main lot, and we can join them inside.”

  As Ethan’s urgent touch guided her through the parking lot, something inside her gave way. He was here to stop the flow of drugs so girls like Dina wouldn’t end up in the hospital.

  Or worse. The morgue.

  And she had to tell him her brother was in on it.

  Ethan rushed Kim inside only to find himself pacing the hallway waiting for word on Dina’s condition. The toxicology report would take a while, but he suspected someone had slipped a roofie into her drink. Crack didn’t do this. Neither did the marijuana some of her friends had to have been smoking. But she didn’t appear to have been assaulted.

  He slapped the wall. He neede
d to find out who sold her the drugs. He would’ve preferred to interrogate her in the car, away from curious ears, but the girl had been too disoriented.

  “She’ll be okay,” Kim said, trailing him.

  Right. One kid had already died on his watch. Now this.

  Kim tugged on his arm. “Please, come and sit. I need to tell you something.”

  Ethan sat beside her, but inside he was still pacing, obsessing over how close he’d come to losing another kid. He sliced a sideways glance at Kim, noted the pinched whiteness of her lips, her hands twisted in her lap.

  Without thinking, Ethan covered them with his own. Awareness jolted through him and he fought the instinct to draw back. Some things were more important than self-preservation. “Hey, you just told me she’s going to be okay. Why the long face?”

  Kim’s tormented gaze sucked the air from his lungs. “I—”

  A shadow fell across their joined hands, and whatever she’d been about to tell him froze on her lips. Darryl looked down at them, a panicked urgency darkening his eyes.

  Kim’s face blanched. “Is Dad okay?”

  Ethan’s heart squeezed at the anguish in her voice, as he realized there was little other reason why her brother would traipse down here in the middle of the night. Except…

  Ethan glanced at the window. It wasn’t night anymore. Outside, the soft purple-gray of predawn light had already pushed away the darkness.

  Darryl’s gaze flicked to Ethan and back to Kim. “You need to come.”

  Kim sprang to her feet. “What happened?”

  “You need to come. Now.”

  Kim’s eyes narrowed, but before Ethan could figure out what wasn’t being said, Dina’s foster parents hurried toward them.

  “How can we ever thank you?” Dina’s foster mom exclaimed. “The doctor says Dina will be fine.”

  “May we speak to her?” Ethan asked.

  “Yes, yes. She’s asking for both of you. We’re going to get her a sandwich.” The woman beamed. “She says she’s famished.”