Owen

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Owen Page 14

by Barton, Kathi S.


  Glancing at the news again, he laughed a little. He remembered his father doing the same thing, but his boredom of choice was The Weather Channel. Dad could quote the weather over another country more than he could the football scores of the local teams. But Randolph had loved him. Missed him as well. As soon as he won his hand, he was going to walk around the room naked. It was just something fun to do.

  ~~~

  Owen pulled the trunk toward him and sat on top of it when he had it out in the sunshine. Clare was laughing at something behind him, so turning to see her, he watched her struggle to pull one of the trunks toward the pool house. He would have helped her, but she’d gotten so pissed the last time that he decided to watch her instead. Besides, from where he sat, he had a nice view of her pretty ass.

  When she was almost to him, she sat on her trunk as well. “You do know that when we get all these together, she said that we have to find one more. I have a feeling that it’s going to be heavier than any of the others we’ve got down there.” He said he’d been thinking on that. “And? What have you come up with?”

  “I don’t think it’s very large at all.” She snorted. “Okay, not big and heavy at all. I think it might contain something small, but very valuable. Or I could just be hoping that, since I’m exhausted from pulling these things out of the strangest places.”

  “Yes, well, finding that one under the floorboards of the barn startled me. What did the man, the ghost, say about that one?” Owen told her what he’d said. “Why did he think that it might get wet with the others? I mean, it’s just as waterproof as all the other trunks, right?”

  “I guess so. But, here is a question that has been bugging the crap out of me; where the hell does one get this many trunks in the first place?” He looked at the dozen or so that they’d unearthed over the last few days. There were at least two more where he was looking, and he had no idea how many more in the storage shed that Clare was working on. “I understand that this was far better than bags, even for the time period, but I’m wondering if she had someone making them for her. They all have her initials on them.”

  “That’s probably what she did. And I wonder when luggage, like we use today, was made.” He pulled out his phone and looked and told her. “Okay, that was helpful. But as to why there are so many. I’ve been thinking on that too. I bet when she went someplace, she would have a new set of luggage made so that she could store the things that she already had in the old ones. I would. When we take a trip from now on, I’m going to use these suckers. I love them.”

  “Mom wants to buy a few of them, and I told the boys, Caleb’s sons, that they could have one each for their rooms. They want to store treasures in them as well.” She told him that was a good idea. “I thought so.”

  They got to work again. Just as he found the last one in his area of the second shed, he saw Gabe leaning against the doorjamb. He asked him how long he’d been there without helping. It was the least he could have done, he pointed out.

  “Probably, but I needed to stay cleaned up for my meeting in a little while. I have taken on another partner, and I’m doing interviews with him and his family. The ghosts that will be there are going to help me to see if he’s worthy or not. And I have a question for you.” He came out of the shed, wiping his hands as he went. “What do you know of a ghost by the name of James Benson?”

  “Nothing. I think I’ve heard the name, but I couldn’t tell you from where.” He told him what he knew. “Then no, I don’t know anyone that works for Boone. He’s a ghost. Did Boone kill him then?”

  “No. Carmen did. I’m not sure why just yet, but I’ve asked her to come around when she can. Anyway, he wants to ask you something too. But I didn’t want him to come around while you’re exploring. I don’t think he can talk to Boone, but I didn’t want to take the chance. You know, have him spreading around to him what you’ve found.” Owen thanked him. “By the way, why are the two of you doing this? I’m assuming that Caleb would allow you to use the pack.”

  Clare had joined them then and she nodded at him. There wasn’t anything spoken between them, but he knew what she was saying. Asking Gabe to follow him, they took him to the pool house and the lower level. They’d put a lock on the door that led down there, and as he unlocked it, Owen explained.

  “We’ve been gathering what we could. I guess I should tell you that Conrad can talk to ghosts too. He’s innocent. I had to think on that one, but I got it finally. Anyway, he talked to Birdie, and she told us where to find some of the items. We’ve got one more to find that she can tell us where it is.” Gabe asked why that was important. “I’m not sure. But she knew that it had been hidden away better than the rest. I guess she comes by and looks at the trunks we have, then leaves if we’ve not found it. So far, we haven’t.”

  “Holy fuck, Owen.” He let him wander around the floor with all the trunks opened. The money was still stacked, but now it was against the wall so it wouldn’t tumble over, and they’d divided it all up. Except for the money that they’d found today. “This is why you’ve not used pack.”

  “Yes. Not that I don’t trust them, but if word got out, we’d have every person in the world over here ‘helping’ us.” Gabe stood in front of the trunk of watercolor paintings. “We’re going to see if they generate any kind of interest. We’re going to use the money that we get from the sale for an art studio and lessons in art for the local kids and adults. Clare thinks that they’d have a lot of fun doing this, as well as maybe opening a shop so they can sell things off for extra money.”

  “I love this idea. I do hope that you’re going to ask for investors in this. I’m in. You can’t just pay for it all on your own. That’ll generate more questions than you can answer.” Owen told him that he’d figured that out as well. “Christ, there is a lot of cash here. How the hell do you think you’re going to circulate this? I mean, if you show up with all this cash, as old as it is, someone is going to come down hard on your ass. What about that newspaper guy you were having trouble with? He’d be all over this.”

  “Mom had a long conversation with him and her publisher. He’s not going to be bothering us anymore. Or else. I’ve never figured out what the or else was, but I’ve not seen him.” Gabe nodded as he picked up one of the paintings.

  “Take it if you like it.” Gabe told Clare that he couldn’t do that. “Yes you can. And I want you to have it. There are so many paintings here that we should all take what we want of it. Of any of it. If you wish to sell it, then do that as well. But there is more here than we can deal with right now. And I’m cataloging as much of it as we find. That’s the little sticker on the back.”

  “This is wonderful, don’t you think?” Clare went to stand beside Gabe and showed him the other two paintings that went with it. “There’s a story to these, would you like to know it? Birdie is here. She said to tell you to keep looking.”

  “Is it romantic or tragic? If the latter of the two, then no.” Gabe told Clare that it was romantic. “Good. Tell us. I could use a good story. Oh, before I forget to tell you both, Xander wants us to read his first three chapters. I think he’s going to have it finished before too much longer. But he needs someone to read what he’s going to allow us to before he moves on more into their story.”

  “We can do that.” Gabe sat down and looked behind them. He nodded once and looked at Owen. “Birdie said that you look like her son. And that she knew that this picture would come to mean a great deal to someone in the family. It does, you know. Remember when we were kids and went to the swimming hole to watch the humans playing?”

  “Yes. Oh God, that’s it. That’s the hole.” He said that it was. The mountain and the water streaming off it pooled at the bottom and made a cool swimming hole. “Tyler told me that it was then that you decided to be a doctor. You were going to be the best country doctor ever born.”

  “Yes, it was then that I decided.” He took the other two pictures and sat them on either side of the one that he’d had in his ha
nd. The three of them stared at them, and memories washed over him and his brother.

  “I remember when I was about twelve or so. You and I were sitting on that ridge at dusk. It was summer and there was no one around for miles. Both of us, we just sat there, talking about nothing at all, and then this bird, a raven, came and sat down in front of us. Not a foot away from either of us.”

  “You gave it some cheese.” Owen nodded, laughing. “She said that she saw us there. Birdie said that it has made her smile for decades to remember that day that she stood watching over us. And that she knew that someday, we as men were going to amount to something great.”

  “You have too, you know. Not only as a death watcher with your wife, but a wonderful doctor.” Gabe shook his head and Owen nodded. “You are, Gabe. The best.”

  “We both have, Owen. You’re a wonderful person and a good man. This thing that you’re doing for the local kids, I think it’s about the best thing that any of us have thought of so far. I love you for that.” Owen hugged his brother, feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. “Now, that was a romantic story, don’t you think?”

  “Oh yes, the best.” Clare hugged them both, and then hugged Owen again as she stood there with them. “You have to take the painting now, Gabe. If you don’t, then I’ll just have it framed for you and send to you anyway. Take them, please?”

  “All right. I will.” He stacked them up and looked at the two of them. Owen was almost afraid of what he was going to say. “Benson, his first name is James, he wants to know what you’re planning to do with Boone.”

  “Do with him? Nothing. He was never someone that bothered us. I would imagine that the Feds will be taking care of him soon however. Why does he ask?” Gabe held what looked like a one-sided conversation with himself, but he finally looked at him with a smile. “He is in love with the man, and doesn’t want to see him hurt. He said that Randolph has been good to him over the years and he doesn’t want him to suffer, not like he did. He said that he knew that he deserved it, for the thoughts that he had about his boss and friend, but—”

  “Now hold on right there. I don’t know what happened to him, and I don’t know why he was killed. I will find out, but I don’t know right now. But if he thought that whatever happened to him happened because of his thoughts, then he’s as nutty as my parents. No one here is going to be pissy with him enough to kill him over being a homosexual. You tell him that.” Gabe told Clare that he could hear her. “Good. You didn’t get killed for being in love with Randolph. However, I think you should have told him that you loved him. Perhaps it would have helped the two of you. Or at least have made you feel better about yourself. To think that—well, that’s not the way things work around here. You remember that.”

  “He said that he did.” Carmen appeared in the room, and Owen watched his brother put his hand out, as if stopping a child from falling. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “I’ve come to explain myself.” She looked at them, then back at Gabe. “Ask him what he was doing when I found him. Ask him, Gabe.”

  “He said that he was doing nothing.” Gabe looked at the blank spot on the wall. “Carmen has never lied to me in her life. And if you’re lying to me now, you know the consequences for that.”

  “I was in the market district, near where Boone is being held.” Owen could see that whatever was going on, Gabe was getting angrier by the moment as Carmen spoke. “He had tied this kid to the post near an old abandoned building and was raping him. My anger...you have no idea how pissed off I was. And I made him suffer. Suffer in ways that I cannot explain. He was fucking this little boy even though he’d already killed him.”

  “Be gone.”

  The two words meant little to anyone but the man that they were said to. No fanfare. No trial. The words, full of emotion and anger, were the final blow to the dead, to send them to a place where they’d have no one. No sound, no color, and no one to speak with. A place that Owen never wanted to think about. Not so long as he was alive or dead.

  “I’m sorry. I should have come earlier and spoken to you about him. It was on my mind to do so, but you had so much going on that I tried to spare you. I had no idea that he was known to you.” Owen told Carmen what he’d told Gabe. “Well, I guess I was correct then. But I am truly sorry for the things that I did to him.”

  “No, don’t be. I was defending him until you told us.” Clare hugged the vampire and Owen smiled. “You did what needed to be done, and I thank you for it. If you know the name of the boy’s family, I think I’d like to do something for them.”

  “Yes, I can give you that.” After Carmen told Clare what she knew, Clare left them there. Carmen looked at him. “You have a wonderful wife and mate, Owen. I do hope that you recognize that.”

  “I do. Every day of my life, I will make sure that I let her know that too.” He hugged Carmen himself and told her thanks. As he was walking out with his brother, Owen asked him if he was going to tell Caleb about everything he’d found in the trunks.

  “No. But you should. Not that I think he’ll care one way or the other, but he can put you a little more security around here, as well as have a good laugh about it.” Gabe laughed. “I wish I could be there when you tell him about the art studio. He’s going to bust a nut when you tell him, because he’d not thought of it first.”

  “Yeah, that might be worth it.” They were still laughing as they made their way to the house. Owen invited him for dinner. “And bring Rayne. I’ll call the rest of them too. Might as well tell them all about the trunks and the plans for them. Also, I’ll have to set up another sale. After everyone takes what they want.”

  “Good deal. And thank you again for the paintings. I’m going to have them framed and hung as soon as I possibly can.” He looked at the house, then back at him before speaking again. “You know that she’s breeding, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Gabe told him something that they’d been worrying about. “It’s a perfectly healthy little girl, you’re sure? And she’s all wolf. Thank you, Gabe. Thank you so much.”

  With a lighter step and a smile, he went to the house to tell Skyler they were having company and to find his mate. She was going to be thrilled.

  Chapter 11

  Xander was in the kitchen when his brother came to get him. Just watching them read his book was driving him crazy. So, he’d come in here to talk to Skyler. He was baking again, and Xander had been able to snag a few pastries as he waited. But now that he was entering the living room, he wished with all his heart that he’d not eaten anything yet. His belly was rebelling something terrible, as Penny would say.

  “How much more of this do you have done?” Tyler had only just arrived home this afternoon, and was joining them after seeing to all the homes that had been left to him. “And before you get defensive of my question, I really love what you have so far, and want more of it.”

  “Really?” Caleb said he had too. And Mom and Dad were only nodding. “I have about six more chapters. I’ve been having the time of my life but was afraid that since I was having fun that no one would like the book. The man has so many little stories that I swear I could write a second book on just his anecdotes and silly jokes.”

  A ghost had shown up at his house about ten minutes after he had moved in. Not only did he now share his house with Penny, the little girl whose mom was buried in the basement, but also Sharon, Penny’s mom, and now Charles Winston.

  Charles was...well, Charles was colorful. He was glad now that after a few sessions with Penny, he’d been able to talk to Rayne about the people “living” in his house with him. The dead people. She had given him permission to talk to and hear Sharon. And in turn, he could also talk to and hear Charles. It had paid off in a wonderful way for him. Or at least he thought so.

  The man had been a dead man for a very long time. Moving around the world and seeing things that he never got to see as a living being. He could do this, he told Xander, because his grave had been disturbed long ago when
someone wanted to put a house right where he was resting. Having his body removed from the spot, though he didn’t think it had been nice for them to throw it in the creek nearby, gave him freedom that he wouldn’t have otherwise enjoyed.

  He had stories that would get him, as well as any family member of Charles’s, in deep trouble if repeated. Worse yet, real names were attached to the stories. But they had an arrangement. He told him of his days living in the past, not telling about his escapes unless they were pertinent to the story line.

  “I love the part where he tells about his life living on the farm with his family. I had no idea that they had so very little then.” Xander told his mom that most of the time they’d be lucky if they had corn meal to make dinner with. “I have to tell you, Xander, the fact that you added the recipe for cornmeal mush to the story at the end of the chapter was wonderful. And the grease gravy that they ate a lot of.”

  “He told me a story just the other day that I’m working on—how his family would go in after the hogs were butchered and come home with a lot of delights. Not to me, they wouldn’t be, but they were happy with them. Chitterlings were something that I’ve heard Grandma talking about, but she never explained it. Charles did. And sweetbreads.” His mom said “Oh my,” and Dad laughed. “You laugh, but how much of that have you actually eaten?”

  “You all have.” The room was silent. Xander was about to ask his dad if he was joking or not when he continued. “You know as well as I that we was dirt poor. More than that. We didn’t have two nickels to rub together to make a dime. But we ate good, and we had meat on the table most nights. What did you think you was eating when I said it was hog soup?”

  “I don’t think I want to know anymore.” Dad laughed harder and his mom smacked him on the leg. “Dad, if you tell me we also ate sweetbreads, I’ll never forgive you. Even if we did, I don’t ever want to know.”

 

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