by Julie Miller
“I don’t have a son,” she said bitterly.
“But you did, didn’t you? That’s why the note you left when you took him said a son for a son. When Maria pointed out this house, she said Brighton lived here with her sister and his kids. But she originally phrased it ‘their’ kids. I think you had a son and I think he killed himself in a jail cell.”
Chance turned to Lily. “There’s something you don’t know. I investigated the trunk in the tunnel.”
“What tunnel?” Elizabeth asked.
“The one in the food storage bunker?” Robert Brighton asked.
“Yes.”
“It leads to an old church my father bought three decades ago,” Brighton explained. “He constructed the tunnel as another way out of White Cliff if authorities ever tried to take us over. I haven’t thought about it in years.”
“I’m betting your son knew about it,” Chance said. “The trunk is full of stories with one central hero named Darke Fallon. There are also sunflower seeds.”
“Darke Fallon,” Lily whispered.
“Jimmy loved sunflower seeds,” Elizabeth said with a choked sob. “I planted them this year just as I do every year.” As Chance withdrew the key complete with its ribbon and small brass medallion from his pocket, she all but gasped. “Let me see that,” she demanded. “That’s my father’s war medal. This is the key to his old trunk. We keep it in the basement.”
“I doubt it’s in the basement anymore,” Chance said.
“You said the trunk was full of stories?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Jimmy hide his stories?”
“Perhaps because they were blatantly explicit.”
“In what way?”
“Sexually. He apparently had a relationship or wanted one with a local girl named Tabitha Stevens.”
“Tabitha?” Lily said, looking at Chance. “I saw initials in a heart by that cot in the church: J.B. plus T.S. It seems if that was Jimmy, he didn’t tell Tabitha about the stories or his alter ego. Did Jimmy run across Tabitha in the church’s maintenance room?”
“It seems likely,” Chance said. “I found remnants of sunflower seeds on the floor. Plus, Tabitha’s grandfather preached there at one time, perhaps she heard stories, I don’t know.” He looked at Elizabeth and added, “By the way, Tabitha was also Wallace Connor’s girlfriend.”
“Are you suggesting Jimmy killed Wallace Connor out of jealousy? We had proof Jimmy was here in White Cliff that day. That damn Block destroyed it.”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Chance said. “But why didn’t your son’s fingerprints show up when the police checked files? Why no birth certificate, no social security card? Why did he lie about himself and why did this whole community never mention one of theirs died at the same time as the man everyone was asking them about? Didn’t anyone put two and two together?”
“The first part is easy,” Elizabeth said. “I had Jimmy after a very short and violent first marriage. I was so gullible. I left before I even knew I was pregnant and almost immediately met Robert. His father was in the midst of creating this alternate world. He’d been in prison because of a couple of scams he committed earlier in his life so he was keeping this place under wraps, knowing he’d be investigated when the police found out he was collecting money from investors.
“All that aside, White Cliff seemed like utopia to me. Robert already had several children by his first wife who died before we met. It seemed like I’d turned my life around and found my own little slice of heaven. Jimmy was born up here at White Cliff.” She wiped at her eyes. “It seems like only yesterday. He was my only child. And to answer your question, no, I didn’t register Jimmy’s birth.”
“The government of this country is into every aspect of every life,” Robert Brighton chimed in. “It doesn’t matter what so-called party they belong to, they’re all the same. They amass numbers and data and make records so they can control us. They conspire with foreign agents to undermine any expression of independence. Freedom is a concept to them and not one they particularly even like. We live freedom.”
“That’s why I didn’t get him a social security number or anything else. As far as the world outside of White Cliff knew, he didn’t exist and it seemed like the most pure form of freedom I could gift him with. As time passed, it became clear that we’d made a good choice because Jimmy was different than other kids. He loved to hunt and fish but he was poor in school and awkward around people. Other kids made fun of him at times. I can’t tell you how many fights we broke up. I knew he was roaming around at night but I also knew he couldn’t get through the gate and the unfinished part of the fence is guarded... I didn’t know he wrote stories and I would have sworn girls were the last thing in the world he would concern himself with.”
“Boys will be boys,” Robert said. “I should have known that. I just had no idea he’d found the tunnel. But how do you know for sure it was Jimmy who wrote those stories?”
“It stretches the imagination to think someone else created those stories and the character Darke Fallon and then got your son to confess to murders using that same name,” Chance said. “Plus, there’s a photograph of you in the trunk, Elizabeth. We need to verify everything, though. Perhaps you’ll recognize his handwriting. It’s very hard to read.”
“Like a scribble?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes. But I still don’t get it,” Chance added. “Someone here must have seen Jimmy’s picture in the newspaper when police were attempting to track Darke Fallon down.”
“It was a terrible picture,” Elizabeth said. “Most of the people here probably didn’t even see it. Most of us believe the government runs the media. Some did, but didn’t recognize Jimmy, they just assumed the police had a man in custody named Darke Fallon, and no one had ever heard of that person before. A few people did recognize Jimmy’s photo and asked us about it. We told them it was a conspiracy by the police to undermine White Cliff’s legitimacy, an attempt to gain access to our community assets and records. We said Jimmy was a victim just as much as the Connor boy and nothing would be gained by admitting he came from here. Anyway, what business was it to the police that our boy had sacrificed himself for some reason we’ll never know?”
“Dead is dead,” Robert Brighton said. “If the police invade White Cliff, there will be more violence. I have to believe that Jimmy would not want his brothers and sisters dying because of a decision he made.”
Lily stared at the Brightons and realized they were on a different planet than she was, not only politically, but in other ways, as well. Charlie’s welfare was all that mattered and if anything happened to him, she’d move heaven and earth to avenge him. “What was your evidence that Jimmy wasn’t in Boise?” she asked.
“A dated photograph.”
“Don’t you have the negative or a copy of it on your computer?”
“No, it was one of those old Polaroids,” Elizabeth said. “Jimmy found a camera and a whole box of film down in the basement, left there by Robert’s father decades ago. He liked to fool around with it. Anyway, Jimmy was ice fishing that day over at Freedom Lake with his stepbrother.”
“Then you have a witness,” Chance said.
“Yes, but it’s doubtful a relative, even a step relative and especially someone from White Cliff, would be believed in America’s skewed justice system. What we had was that photograph.”
“Of him fishing?”
“Of him with his catch, yes. We ate his fish for dinner that night. He seemed right as rain. The next morning he was gone like he’d been teleported off the face of the earth. A day after that, he confessed to a murder that happened while he was up at Freedom Lake. Maria drove down there with the picture a day later. Jeremy assured her he would use it to help solve the case. She also told him something he didn’t know that we hoped might motivate him to
work harder on Jimmy’s behalf. By the weekend, Jimmy was dead.”
“He must have left during the night via that blasted tunnel,” Brighton said. “I should have thought of that. It’s just been years since anyone talked about it.”
“All of this is interesting,” Lily said. “But it’s been over fifteen minutes. I’m sorry about your son, but it’s my son we have to think of now.”
Robert had been sitting on the edge of a chair and he got to his feet as though he couldn’t sit anymore. “You have to understand...Elizabeth hasn’t been the same since Jimmy died. And now she’s sick... I thought if I could bring her Jeremy’s boy it would give her a reason to keep fighting.”
“But why Charlie in particular?”
Robert looked at Elizabeth. “She has to know, honey.”
“Know what?” Lily said.
“I never divorced my first husband, Lily, so I’m not really Robert’s wife,” Elizabeth said. “There’s no easy way to tell you this.” She took a deep breath and kept going. “I married Jeremy Block right out of high school and left him less than a month later. That’s what Maria told Jeremy the day she gave him the photo, hoping it would make a difference to him. But...it didn’t.”
“Wait a second,” Lily said. “Your son Jimmy is my Charlie’s half brother?”
“Yes.”
“After Jimmy’s death, I got a job working for Jeremy,” Robert said. “We knew he had a son—we didn’t know his mother had taken him when she left. And then, lo and behold, the son is returned, rescued from his hard-drinking, drug-taking, carousing mother down in Reno...”
“None of that is true except that I lived in Reno,” Lily said.
“We know that now,” Elizabeth murmured. “I should never have trusted a word that man said. But that’s why Robert and the boys took Charlie as soon as Jeremy got him back. To protect him from his parents.”
“I thought it only fair that Jimmy’s half brother have a better life,” Robert said.
Chance sprang to his feet. “Jeremy Block is a bigamist?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“That’s why he wouldn’t divorce me—we weren’t actually married,” Lily said. “He couldn’t go to court and have that come out. Didn’t he know all he had to do was tell me that? I would have danced in the streets.”
“He didn’t want you to dance in the streets,” Chance said.
“But what good does this do us?” Elizabeth said.
“Don’t you see?” Lily demanded, staring right into her eyes. “Jeremy can no longer deny his past and his current behavior. With two of us to tell the world—”
She stopped talking because Elizabeth was shaking her head. “The only reason I’m alive is that Jeremy can’t get to me in here. We allowed you entrance to White Cliff because Robert had met you at Jeremy’s house and we were curious to see what you wanted, especially when you lied about yourself. We let Mr. Hastings in because Robert recognized his face on our surveillance camera from that night we took Charlie. No one else gets in here.”
“Elizabeth,” Lily pleaded, “listen to me. When you decided that your son’s death was something to be privately mourned and laid to rest, you were robbing society of finding the true murderer of a young man. That murderer is still out there after having gotten away with a heinous crime. Maybe they’ll strike again and someone else will die. And for your son to have taken the blame—it had to be someone he trusted and cared for deeply.”
“Someone like Tabitha Stevens,” Chance said, meeting Lily’s gaze.
“Yes. Or her boyfriend Todd or even Betsy. How do we know who Jimmy met and what he got himself into?” She turned back to Elizabeth. “You’ve let hiding become a way of life for you. I understand, I did the same thing. But it’s time to make Jeremy pay for his past, time to protect innocent people from his manipulations, time to stand up.” All this sounded righteous enough but it rang hollow. Charlie was halfway back to Boise by now.
“Why did you let Maria take the boy?” Robert asked Elizabeth.
“I didn’t let her,” Elizabeth said, looking up at him. “She panicked when she found the drugs in Lily’s room and then when she heard you had abducted her and brought her to this house, she went nuts. She grabbed the boy and said she had to find somewhere else to take him, that he would ruin everything for everyone if he stayed here. I heard him beg to see his mommy. Why didn’t I listen to him?”
Lily knew why. Elizabeth hadn’t listened to Charlie or her own common sense because she hated Jeremy with an unabated passion. Her desire to hurt him overrode her ethics and morals and who got to pay for it? Charlie, that’s who.
Lily had steeled herself not to break down, but it was a struggle to hold back the anger. How could Maria have done this? But there was another unavoidable consideration. What would have happened if Lily had been honest with everyone from the get-go? It had seemed like such a horrible risk, one she’d been unable to take, and now look where it had all ended up.
They stood or sat in an informal circle, staring at their hands or their feet, no one willing to meet anyone else’s gaze. Lily took Chance’s hand. It was time for them to return to Boise and the authorities, time for Lily to face the warrant and then press charges, time to fight for her child before he disappeared out of the country.
He looked down at her and seemed to understand what she was thinking. He put his face next to hers but just then the door banged open and they all turned in shock.
Maria stood on the threshold. For once, she did not look calm and controlled. Her eyes grew huge as she looked at Lily, and Lily’s heart sank.
“Where is he?” Lily demanded, stepping toward Maria. “Where is Charlie?”
Maria finally tore her gaze from Lily and looked at her sister. “I didn’t know where to take him,” she said. “He started sobbing when I mentioned his daddy. I couldn’t take him there.”
“Thank goodness,” Elizabeth said. “We’ve been all wrong about Lily.”
“I found a whole bottle of pills in her room just this morning,” Maria said, suspicion and judgment harsh in her voice.
“I know you did, but there’s a reason for that and it’s not what you think. Where is the boy? He needs to be with his mother.”
Maria looked from Elizabeth to Robert. “Just like that? You two put this whole community in jeopardy and now you’re just going to let her take him?”
“Yes,” Robert Brighton said. “That’s what we’re going to do.”
Maria glanced over her shoulder at her car. That was enough for Lily who ran past her. Charlie was curled up on the backseat. She opened the door and sat beside him, just taking a second to catch her breath so she wouldn’t add to his fear. Dark circles ringed his eyes, dried tears clung to his lashes. She ran her hand along his arm. He opened his eyes with a start and began to withdraw and then he saw who it was. Relief swept away the trepidation.
Holding him and rocking him, Lily kissed his cheeks and peered into his eyes. His precious freckled face looked wan and tired but otherwise okay. Knowing she had been locked in a bedroom last night while Charlie had slept in another one in the same house stung deep, but in this instant of reunion, the pain subsided and Lily’s heart seemed to burst in her chest. She buried her head against his warm little neck and uttered soothing words. “You’re okay now, baby, you’re safe, Mommy is here.”
She was suddenly aware that Chance’s hands were on her shoulders and he was leaning down. “Hey there, buddy,” Chance said and Charlie tore himself from his mother’s embrace and threw himself at Chance. As Lily got out of the car, she watched Chance lift her son in the air above his head. Charlie laughed and squealed and she was reminded of the first time Charlie met Chance. But now she also recalled the other sensation she’d had that day. This was how a relationship between a man and a small child was supposed to be: fun, exciting, lib
erating, not fraught with worry and tension. With Jeremy, Charlie had always known he wasn’t quite good enough, he didn’t measure up. Even if he couldn’t articulate the concept, he felt it at the core of his being.
If she ended up in jail until things got straightened out, would the courts allow Charlie to stay with Chance and the others at the Hastings Ranch? With Gerard’s Kinsey in residence and Chance’s stepmother, Grace, around, there would be two women to nurture him and five men to teach him how to be a man.
Or would the courts hand him over to Jeremy? She had decided that if she ever got Charlie back, she would act responsibly and legally and strike to win in the courts no matter what the odds. But now that she had him, the temptation to run was so tantalizing it was scary.
Chance finally handed Charlie back to her. As she took him into her arms, Chance leaned down and kissed her briefly, then winked. “You’re not married,” he said.
“I know,” she said as Charlie wiggled down to stand beside her.
“How fantastic is that?”
“Pretty darn fantastic.” It didn’t really solve any of the more pressing issues, but it felt great to know she wouldn’t have to go through a divorce. In fact, between what Chance could tell authorities about Jeremy trying to pay him to kill Lily and what she knew about Jeremy’s past now, especially in regards to bigamy and destroying evidence, it began to look hopeful there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. She would stay and fight.
They started to walk back to the house but Charlie grabbed his mother’s hand and tried to hold her back. “I want to go home,” he said.
“Did those people hurt you, honey?”
“No,” he admitted with a trembling lower lip. “Seth is my friend. I just want to go home. I want to see Grandpa Harry.”
Chance smiled. Harry Hastings was Chance’s dad. He and Charlie had bonded during the summer.