by L. J. Wilson
“Please, go on Mrs. Blyth. We’re grateful for anything you can share.”
It took all Alec’s willpower to embrace silence.
“Evie’s second visit came less than a year after her first. It too was out of sheer hopelessness, desperation. You boys stayed with me both times. You don’t remember?”
Alec and Aaron offered their vague recollections, stressing that no memory answered their questions. “If I hadn’t discovered Kiera in La Carta, the school,” Alec said, “we would have never found Good Hope. Neither of our parents ever mentioned it.” At that point Kiera did interrupt, smiling coyly and excusing herself. She wanted to see her six brothers and sisters. Obviously large families were key to Good Hope’s survival.
“Speaking of siblings,” Hannah said, “the five of you, you’re all well? Over the years, I’ve wondered… prayed for you. Your mother kept in touch with me until… well, until the end. Short letters mostly. After your parents disappeared we followed the story in the newspaper. In one of her last Christmas letters, she referred to you as the…” Her fingertips fluttered to her forehead. “I can’t quite recall…”
“Tribe of Five,” Alec and Aaron said at the same time.
“That’s right… Tribe of Five,” she repeated.
“Most of us are here—”
“Here? In Good Hope… today?” she said, her monotone speech spiking.
“Yes. We left Troy and Jake at the bakery,” Alec said. “We didn’t think all of us turning up on your doorstep was the best idea.”
She smiled, but Alec read it as more nervous than genuine. “Your other brothers. And your sister, Jacob’s twin. Is she here?”
“No,” Alec said, not having heard anyone call Jake “Jacob” since Evie had last said it. “Honor’s at home in Nickel Springs. She didn’t make the trip.”
“She runs an inn—Abstract Enchantment,” Aaron offered, the place surely burned into his mind. “She’s a chef, a very good one.”
Hannah nodded. “It doesn’t surprise me. I wouldn’t have given a nickel for any quilt Evie might have sewn, but she truly had a gift with food.”
“That’s for sure,” Alec said, recalling meals he hadn’t thought about in ages.
“I saw them once as infants,” the woman said, circling back around. “Honor and Jake. Even then, you could see how the boy resembled the two of you… Sebastian. And the daughter… She was different, fair and blue-eyed.”
“Still is,” Aaron said, trading a look with Alec.
“Evie was awed by her.” Hannah took a breath, staring at Alec and Aaron. “Well, I believe it was probably the femininity after so many boys.”
“Might have been. Anyway,” Alec said, trying to steer the exchange. “We’ve learned a lot recently—places that our parents were deeply connected to but the reasons don’t add up.”
“Beyond that, why was any of it a secret?” Aaron said. “What, specifically, do you know about La Carta—other than it seemed like a great place to banish your daughter to?”
“I’m sure our methods seem harsh to an outsider, but Kiera’s father… the elder Reverend Kane, it was their belief that true missionary work would benefit Kiera,” Hannah said. “Other than a place where Fathers of the Right work is carried out, I don’t know what you mean.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Blyth, I don’t believe you. I think you know a great deal about La Carta—going all the way back to a time when our parents were frequent visitors. So we’re clear, I’m not leaving here until I get some answers.”
Hannah was silent, as if weighing her options.
Go ahead, think it through, lady… But I swear, you will tell me… Why did you call my father “the mission?” What was he doing in Good Hope? Even better, why did everyone think he was dead? And the plane, those initials… what does it all mean…? Alec had to bite his tongue to keep from bombarding her with questions.
“Wait there,” Hannah said. She returned a few minutes later with a large envelope. “It may give you some answers. I don’t know that it will solve the mystery of your parents’ disappearance.”
Alec’s urge to tear into the envelope was too great. He put it in Jess’s steadier hands. Inside the large envelope were three smaller envelopes. The first contained a letter from Sebastian to Evie, dated April 1977. There was also an official government document, calling out the moniker SAM14, a phone number, and a long series of letters and digits. There was a third smaller envelope with the word “Bim” written on the outside.
The three of them reached for the letter from Sebastian to Evie. It looked as if it had been read a thousand times. Hannah prefaced it. “It’s an old letter. It was written before all of you were born, not long after Evie left here. From the gist of it, I think they were at sea, traveling from the port in Philadelphia to South America.”
“Okay, maybe fill us in on that part. Why were they traveling to South America?”
“Our mission work, before we embraced air travel, men used to sail out of that harbor. I do know your father was employed in some capacity on large sailing ships.” She took a deep breath. “Evie, she had her own reasons for wanting to go with him. Anyway, the letter, it’s not the sort of thing a member of our sect would put on paper.”
Alec read the first few lines—then he couldn’t read anymore. That part of him, the small space that allowed for human emotion was already maxed out. Instead, he watched Jess’s face. It told the story, shifting from scrupulous reporter and softening to something else as she bit down on her lower lip. “Oh my…” she said in a whispery tone Alec didn’t recognize.
Aaron read along, clearly at a faster clip, maybe skimming. He leaned back in his chair. “Jesus,” he said. “That’s a lot for man who wasn’t big on words.”
“I didn’t know your father well,” Hannah said. “I had mixed emotions about Evie’s decision to leave here with him. There are countless reasons she should have stayed, some binding.”
“Like?” Alec said.
“For one, Good Hope was her home.” Hannah touched the corner of the letter. “We… the Fathers of the Right, we’re her people. Isn’t that enough?”
Alec leaned forward. “My perspective differs. Especially being a member of the Tribe of Five. Lucky for us she left… Otherwise, none of us Clairmont kids would exist. Would we?”
Hannah opened her mouth then pursed her lips tight. She cleared her throat and continued. “After Evie’s second visit,” she said, jumping time, “when Sebastian came for her… I don’t think she needed those papers anymore. I never read the letter until after they vanished. I didn’t think it was proper. After I did… I must admit, I had a better appreciation of their relationship. Sebastian, he would have moved heaven and earth for her—and that’s not something we profess to do in Good Hope.”
Jess slid the letter back into its envelope and Alec was relieved. He was able to make a more pragmatic assessment about the other pieces of information. He picked up the paper bearing a government seal. “Okay, this is more than a little curious. It’s CIA…” Alec said, picking up the paper bearing a government seal. “SAM14… interesting.”
“Can you decipher it?” Aaron asked.
“It reads like a code name, but I think it’s also a clue. SAM— capped like that—stands for Surface to Air Missile. The number, I don’t know… maybe a count. All special ops branches of the military do that with high value targets—keep a count, assign ownership.”
“Weapons or bodies?” Jess said.
“Both,” Alec replied casually, looking over the information. “Surface to Air Missiles would have been a popular commodity around this time period in South America. The place was a hotbed of guerrilla rebels. The US Government spent lives and billions trying to keep SAMs and drugs out of the hands of opposing military factions. In the late seventies into the early eighties, places like La Carta would have been greatly affected. And I’ll go as far as to surmise this: Pop’s love letter might offer some personal insights. But this document,
” he said, shaking the paper at Jess and Aaron, “tells me more. He was in deep with the government. I’d guess that SAM14 is a call sign for his handler, and the phone number a point of contact—maybe in case Mom needed it—remember, we’re talking pre-cell here, pre-internet. Communications options were limited. The series of numbers and letters, I’d bet it’s a code verifying who she was and her clearance for access.”
“Wait,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “You’re talking, like, spy scenarios. Pop worked for an international courier. Some of it was government related, but it wasn’t classified.”
“Says who?” Alec shrugged. “You just learned you have two uncles you didn’t know existed. Consider what else we don’t know.” Alec looked at Hannah who avoided his gaze.
“Alec, come on,” Aaron said. “Pop didn’t live your life. He piloted and delivered international documents and small cargo.”
“I don’t think so,” Alec said, suddenly surer of the source of his hard-ass Navy SEAL wherewithal. “I think international courier was a clever cover for what he really did.”
“My gosh, I can hardly wait to see how Bim fits into the picture,” Jess said, reaching for the smaller envelope. It turned out to be a second letter, also dated April 1977. It spelled out a stateside connection for Evie, somewhere she should go if Sebastian didn’t return. “I know you didn’t love the idea when I suggested it, Evie. But if anything happens, if I don’t make it back—from this assignment or the next… go. Sam will be good for money and getting you back stateside, but he won’t be able to help beyond that. I trust Bim. You should too.”
“Now what do you think?” Alec said to Aaron. Bim’s name was followed by an address in Philadelphia, along with his medical credentials.
“He was a doctor?” Jess said.
“He was a friend of your father’s. I don’t know anything more about him, other than Evie chose not to seek him out when she thought Sebastian was… gone. I’ve told you everything I know,” she said.
“I don’t believe that,” Alec said. “You haven’t begun to explain the two distinct visits my mother made back to Good Hope, let alone how or why she thought our father was dead. And we haven’t even gotten around to the bizarre initials left on the side of their—”
“Alec,” Jess said, grabbing his rigid arm.
She was right. Alec could see the startled look on Hannah’s face. She was close to telling them to leave. He backed off, speaking in a gentler tone. “You said the first time Evie stayed a while. I do remember bits and pieces of being here. I remember swings and a pond.”
“And a cabin,” Aaron added.
On the mention of a cabin, Hannah sucked in a sharp breath. Alec exchanged a fast glance with Jess, whose look back said she saw the same.
“Could we see the cabin, Mrs. Blyth?” Jess asked, her request respectful and soft. “It may not tell us anything, but you never know. It is years later. Don’t you think Alec and Aaron, grown men, have a right to know about the past—especially if we’re unable to figure out exactly what happened to Evie and Sebastian?”
“You pose a complicated question, Jess… Is it Jessica?” She smiled. “Only if you’re my mother.”
“Mmm, mothers. We’re an interesting lot. Sometimes we know our children better than they know themselves. As for the Tribe of Five,” she said carefully, “they’re not mine. And I’m not sure I’m wise enough to provide the proper answers. But fine. I can’t see the harm in looking at a dusty, rundown room and a bath.”
The four of them walked single file down a winding path. There was no choice, the dirt trail was nearly overgrown with brush. “No one has used the cabin in years. Our Reverend, he doesn’t like anyone to come here.”
“Why’s that?” Alec asked as they regrouped at the door.
“I expect the memories it holds are too extreme for our modest lives.”
“Good or bad memories?” Alec asked.
“A strong amount of both. He’s away today. It’s the only reason I’ve agreed to this.”
“Difficult man? Violent temper?” Alec asked, tuned into the Grim Reaper image cloaked in black.
“Our Reverend? Heavens no,” said Hannah. “He’s a good man. Kind. I shouldn’t wish to upset him. That’s all.”
“Why would talking about my mother upset him?”
Turning the doorknob, Hannah didn’t answer. The dusty, cobweb-filled cabin felt like a sealed tomb, its insides airless. They left the door open, but the warm autumn day did nothing to combat the stifling setting and dark corners. Alec’s head pounded, and he began to sweat. It wasn’t like him—this was hardly enemy territory. Even then, he knew how to breathe easy. It had often been the difference between staying alive or ending up dead. This feeling was more personal, and it connected to the cabin. Images pounced, his mind filling with the past. He remembered. The man in the black cloak came at his mother, Alec’s small fists beating him as he screamed for the man to stop. Aaron clung to the edge of her shirt, holding a Teddy bear.
“Alec,” Jess said, touching his arm. He yanked it away and took a turn around the room. It was all so vivid. The argument incredibly fierce. Alec focused on the stone fireplace. He closed his eyes. Aaron’s voice cut in, but the sound only clarified a memory, the reason Aaron couldn’t get to his mother—the object in the way. She’d been extremely pregnant, her face exhausted and fearful. A younger Alec was terrified as the Reverend screamed at Evie, shaking her. “They’re mine…” Alec whispered.
“They’re… Alec, what are talking about?” Jess said.
“The Reverend who was here that night, he was yelling at my mother, saying ‘they’re mine…’ over and over.” Alec looked at the hearth. It was still there—an iron poker. As a boy, he’d grabbed it, ready to defend his mother. At that exact moment, the scene in his head shifted, jaggedly, like stones tumbling down a hill. The fear that filled a younger Alec had bottomed out as Sebastian Clairmont pounded through the cabin door.
“What’s going on here?”
An unknown voice penetrated from behind Alec, the abrupt timing knocking him off balance—at least mentally. He spun toward the sound. It was real, but the man wasn’t Sebastian. In the doorway was a fair-haired man wearing a clerical collar.
“Reverend Kane.” Panic rushed Hannah’s voice. “I didn’t think you’d be back until this evening. I didn’t know what else to do. They—”
He held up a hand. “It’s all right, Hannah. Why don’t you head back to your house? I’m certain God has seen to this moment. I’ll handle it.”
She nodded, scurrying out the door as the Reverend came farther in.
“Reverend?” Alec said, moving closer. The cabin light was dim, but this was clearly not the man in his memory.
“I’m Reverend Kane,” he said, his gaze darting between the two brothers. “Ezra Kane. And I knew you’d both be back someday. What is it I can do for you—Alec?”
1984
Good Hope, Pennsylvania
If this was a dream, Evie didn’t want to wake up. If she was dead, she’d been given a greater reward than she deserved. She and Sebastian crumpled together onto the cabin floor. Her breathing was so erratic, speaking was impossible. She focused on tangible elements. Sebastian’s arms were around her—one in a cast—the two of them rocked in a calming motion. “How…?” she managed.
“It’s a long, incredible story.” The grip of his un-casted arm grew tighter. She knew his touch, recognized his smell, and the beat of his heart.
“Sam, he said… he showed me photos.”
“I know—and he was almost right.”
The way they’d fallen, Evie’s back pressed against his chest. She broke from his grip and spun on her knees. She grasped either side of his face, staring into it. It was gaunt and showed fading bruises. But his eyes—his eyes were alive and looking into hers. “I don’t understand. How…. How is this possible? It’s been months since Sam came to me, even longer since anyone heard from you. And the picture… Your eyes—the
y were… dead.”
“They were staring.”
Evie swiped a finger through the tear on his cheek. She couldn’t stop there, moving her hands over his face the way the blind might touch another person. But as she brushed a hand over his chest, he winced. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was where a cruel dream ended and Evie woke up. She grasped his T-shirt at the neck and tore it open. A patch of gauze was taped between his heart and shoulder. But she also saw the rise and fall of Sebastian’s breath.
“Make a note,” he said. “I am really not a fan of bullet wounds.”
“Bullet wound.” She stared, incredulous. “Sebastian,” Evie said, heart and hands trembling. “If you’re not a ghost… if you’re not some wicked punishment for…” Her gaze rose from the wound to his face. “Tell me how you’re alive.”
“What did Sam tell you about my last assignment?”
“That it was soft. That you were guarding civilian workers from a company called AmeriTex. Their employees were taken hostage— not by rebels. Thugs, a street gang.”
“That’s right. A vicious street gang but better armed than some of the guerrilla factions I’d fought.”
“Sam said there was a ransom, and that the company tried to negotiate it themselves. They thought they’d do better without government involvement. The first photo he showed me… you were chained to a pole—badly beaten but alive.”
He nodded. “They never ID’d me as government, but they did think I was in charge. The AmeriTex employees—they were totally unprepared, scared shitless.” He shook his head. “Hell, so was I—anybody would have been. At least with rebels there’s some predictability, a point of negotiation. These guys were beyond ruthless.
“The beating ended up saving my life. I was separated from the rest of the hostages. After they got their payoff, I thought there was a chance they’d let them go. The ringleader said, ‘Fuck ’em—dead men can’t finger you. Kill them all.’ It happened so fast. Twenty or more innocent men, they just smoked them. I’ve seen brutal shit, Evie, but I’ve never seen anything like that.”