Once the computer fired up, she slipped the piece of plastic into the USB port. A word file named “Sam” appeared.
She clicked on it.
“Please enter your password.”
Sam typed in brokeneagle.
It worked.
The document opened. She swallowed hard, wondering what in the world Bradford left for her as his final communication.
Sam,
I knew you would figure out the password. Like I said before, you would make a great detective. The instincts are there— like they are for me.
I’m not a man of many words. This isn’t news to you. Ha ha. Writing is another story, as it has always been one of my hobbies so please keep reading.
As I write this, you and your sister are at the funeral home, planning out Charmaine’s service. I miss her so much. If this was penned on real paper, like we used to do back in the old days, there’d be a tear stain on this section.
I loved my wife. I wanted to die when she did—join her inside the casket, our arms wrapped around each other. The word widower didn’t compute. The minute she drew her final breath, I contemplated eating my gun. I didn’t because of my children and grandchildren. When I left the hospital, I headed straight to the liquor store, bought a bottle of Jack, went home, and sat.
For days.
The bottle’s contents called to me, offering mind-numbing bliss; relief from the pain; a brain swimming in booze, oblivious to emotion.
I almost caved.
Almost.
Thankfully, I made the right choice and tossed the siren’s syrup into the trash. Had I not done so, not pulled myself together and concentrated on those still breathing air who loved me, I wouldn’t have met, and fell in love with, your mother.
Or you.
Life is a funny, weird and twisted bitch. I knew your family for years and admired your mother from afar, feeling like the world’s biggest ass for dreaming about her at night while snuggling next to my wife. I wasn’t the kind of man Charmaine gave a second glance to, hell, she never gave a second glance to anyone because she adored Big Sam.
I always envied him for her unwavering devotion.
Then, when I least expected it, her gaze turned to me. That day in the parking lot, when the two of us cried on each other’s shoulders after our diagnoses, we went from acquaintances to lovers in the blink of an eye.
Though only brief, our connection was real. Raw. Powerful. We faced the end together with dignity, pride, and strength, each of us determined to make the most of the remaining time alive.
I never, ever, considered our relationship as a way to find out the truth about the child Maria bore. To be honest, I always thought I was the father, which is why I attempted to confront Maria and ask. I wanted to know before I died. It wasn’t until introduced to you, and the volatile situation with Richard, things changed.
Like I told you before, I don’t believe in coincidences. I’m a firm believer in fate. Our paths were destined to cross so together, we could permanently vanquish the sins of the past.
All of our pasts.
In all my years walking this earth, I witnessed a lot. I did things I’m not proud of or willing to share with the world. Shameful actions which make me cringe when recalling. But I also learned that love—real, true, unending love—comes about in the strangest of ways. In a weird way, love is like cancer: It sneaks up on you when you aren’t looking then rocks your world, leaving a mark on your soul and body.
Forever.
There’s a fine line between love and hate, crossed many times while we’re here. Something we once treasured can turn into our worst nightmare in a heartbeat, forever altering the path we wanted to walk down, taking us into the depths of Hell itself.
Of course, I’m preaching to the choir here…
Though I knew you for a short period of time, I understand you. Inside and out. How’s that possible you ask? Easy.
Because we are so much alike it’s scary.
I see myself, my worries, fears, love, angst, and terror reflected in those beautiful eyes of yours every single time I look into them.
Breaks my heart to see such things—which is why I fixed the problem.
My problem. Your grandfather’s problem. Nathanial’s problem. A problem for a host of other men.
But not your problem, Samantha.
You wouldn’t have endured all this had several of us picked the correct path to wander down years ago. Our youthful transgressions affected way too many people for way too long.
It’s well beyond time for this tragedy to end.
The official, (though wrong) conclusion about Richard’s death, and the deaths of Kip and Kathy, are final. Kathy tried to blackmail Richard, and he beat her to death with a baseball bat. Poor Kip arrived too late, flew into a rage and proceeded to unload an entire clip into the bastard before crushing his skull in with said bat.
At least Grayson believes his father tried to save the life of his mother.
The conclusions of the police of Richard being blackmailed by a ‘woman of loose morals’ and withdrew over $300,000 in cash to pay her off (see there, I did read the news articles…I used the PC version reported in the press, not what I really want to call her…ha ha) and lost his life because of what he did years ago to Nicole, won’t change.
He’s dead. And yes, Gregory Hornsby made sure his father’s secret remained hidden.
Lord, what we do to protect those we love, right?
Which leads me to the point of this letter.
I know, without a doubt, your plans. You intend to tether yourself to Lily Belle, thinking your life will revolve around protecting your secret buried in the basement. Not for your sake, but for Resa’s.
You, your friend, and your family, endured enough by protecting secrets. I had the power, means, and opportunity to free you from the self-imposed punishment you doled out on yourself, and guess what?
I wielded the power, and now, you’re free.
So is Resa.
Please don’t be angry with Nathanial. We share a lot of history together, so of course, he told me about what happened while we were in Eureka Springs. No one else knows, I swear (unless you shared with someone else—though I imagine you didn’t—again, I get you) or perhaps Resa talked. Nathanial didn’t share the story to brag, fling gossip, or even to release himself from the guilt of his actions that night.
He told me because he knew I would help you.
That we would help you.
And we did—it’s over now.
Go, Samantha. Live your life. Find yourself a kind, caring, honest man (like my son Jefferson, who by the way, has an enormous crush on you!) and love him with all your being.
Not every man is evil like Richard Benton. He was the rarity, I promise. Even some with tainted pasts, like me, can be reborn from the love of a wonderful woman.
Nathanial and I made sure to remove all traces of what was once hidden, and I’ll spend eternity guarding the bastard from the minute I enter the grave.
That’s a promise.
I told you once I believe in fate and wow, I was right on target!
Fate brought all of us together to destroy a wickedness unleashed into the world.
And we did—together.
When I finish typing, I’ll give the flash drive to my son with instructions to hold on to this until a year from today. I wanted to give you time to absorb and deal with what happened—to make peace with what was and is no more.
Make an old, dead man happy by giving Jefferson a chance? Just one date?
Ha, matchmaking from the grave.
Fly, Samantha, for your wings are ready. What was once broken by all our hands is now healed.
Love, Bradford.
VISION BLURRING AS tears cascaded down her face, Sam read the words twice, attempting to grasp the meaning. “Oh, Bradford. What did you do?”
It hit her as though a physical slap.
Jumping to her feet, she ran to the conference room. In a p
anicked frenzy, she yanked the rug then opened the trap door. Hanging on to the rickety railing, she bounded down the steps over to the old cistern.
She didn’t need to turn on the flashlight app on her phone. Even though the only light came from the conference room, she knew someone else had been inside the basement.
The lid was gone. Several small piles of dirt dotted the area around it. On instinct, she stepped to the edge, peering down into the deep shaft.
The smell, the rank stench of death, was gone.
Wiping the wetness from her face, she clicked the app on then verified the cistern was empty.
“Oh, Bradford. I can’t…”
The words ended as tears erupted. Collapsing into a heap on the dirt, Sam wept. Great, heaving sobs from the depths of her soul burst out, soaking her shirt in seconds.
Overcome with the mental images of elderly Nathanial and ailing Bradford sneaking down into the basement, wrangling Richard’s fetid corpse up from the bowels of the earth and then stashing it somewhere until Bradford passed on, made her throw up.
While retching, she wondered where they hid the corpse until Bradford died, and how in the hell they got it buried in the same grave as the man who saved her life in more ways than one.
“No, God, I don’t want to know.”
She cried for the senselessness of it all; for the loss of her loved ones; for the stupid decision to get involved with Richard; for the childish act of vengeance which set everyone on a path none of them should have walked.
For ending a life.
For Resa’s pain and suffering.
For the children she lost.
Never giving birth.
For Grayson’s world getting turned upside down.
For the lies still residing inside her soul; ones to be guarded until death.
Finally, she wept for the tremendous love and compassion shown by others, and their willingness to risk their own lives to help her slay a monster.
The deluge lasted several minutes before she calmed down enough to stand. Once at the top of the stairs, she looked back, knowing when she locked the trap door this time, it would be permanent.
Staring at the beautiful home she spent countless hours and money renovating to perfection, the place she yearned for years to own, she ran her fingers over the cool bricks.
“Fate, just like Bradford said. Is fate why I bought you, Lily Belle? To clean house, change all our fates, once and for all?”
Sam made her decision—which was the opposite of what Bradford assumed she’d do.
Despite the horrific things that happened inside the walls, she would stay. It was time the Halstead Home acquire new, happy memories. She wouldn’t let Richard Benton take anything else away from her life.
Period.
She dialed Resa’s number.
“Hey! I thought you were heading to Branson?”
“Tomorrow. I had a few things to wrap up here, but I changed my mind. Come over and have a drink after work?”
“You won the case today, didn’t you? Grayson’s officially a part of the family?”
“I did, but that’s not the only reason we’re celebrating. It’s the best news in the world. Trust me.”
“Tell me!”
Kicking the trap door shut, Sam shook her head. “Not now, tonight while I pack for the trip.”
“Fuck that! I’m leaving work. I think I’m coming down with the flu. Ha ha. Be there in ten.”
Resa hung up. Sam felt the heavy weight of shame and regret lift from her soul.
Bending down, she scooped up Wee Thing. “Not so wee any more, huh buddy. You’re getting chunky!”
Heading to the office while cooing gibberish to her furry pal, she sent a text to Nicole to make sure they were still on for lunch Sunday in Branson, eager to meet her new friend and tell her in person their mutual nightmare was over.
Once inside the office, she stared at the pile of papers comprising the trusts of her mother and grandmother. Their collective funds were over twenty million dollars, divided equally between sisters.
Sam would never have to worry again, yet she’d work her fingers down to bloody nubs to have her mom, Big Sam, and grandmother still around.
Some things she couldn’t change.
Some things she would never truly understand.
Some questions remained unanswered.
Day by day, she learned to live with the questions; the disappointments; the heartache. What she couldn’t squelch was the loneliness; the feeling of being lost, unsure what to do next. For months, she’d buried the pain in the legal finagling to keep Grayson in Arkansas and with Suzy and Reed.
“Time to make some changes! The first one start’s with hiring an assistant.”
She called Gretchen. “Hey there! How’s the job hunt going?”
“Terrible. I only have two weeks’ left of my unemployment.”
“Are you still interested in making the trek to Hot Springs every day?”
Gretchen gasped. “Are you serious?”
“I am. Same salary as before, plus a gas card, and I’ll pay for your insurance. Deal?”
“Oh, Ms. Chapman! You made my day! Yes, I would love to. When do you want me to start?”
“How about Wednesday? And it’s Sam, remember?”
“Great! What a Christmas present! Thank you so much, Sam.”
“You’re welcome, Gretchen. See you next week.”
Disconnecting the call, Sam snatched the flash drive from the computer. Tossing it into the shred bin, she smiled.
“No more fatal agreements to worry about. Thank you, Bradford. I love you, too.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning and International bestselling author Ashley Fontainne is an avid reader, becoming a fan of the written word in her youth, starting with the Nancy Drew mystery series. Stories that immerse the reader deep into the human psyche and the monsters lurking within us are her favorite reads.
Her muse for penning the Eviscerating the Snake series was The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. Ashley's love for this book is what sparked her desire to write her debut novel, Accountable to None, the first book in the trilogy. With a modern setting to the tale, Ashley delves into what lengths a person is willing to go to when seeking personal ice for heinous acts perpetrated against them. The second novel in the series, Zero Balance, focuses on the cost and reciprocal cycle that obtaining revenge has on the seeker. Once the cycle starts, where does it end? How far will the tendrils of revenge expand? Adjusting Journal Entries answered that question—far and wide.
The short thriller entitled Number Seventy-Five touches upon the dangerous world of online dating. Number Seventy-Five took home the BRONZE medal in fiction/suspense at the 2013 Readers' Favorite International Book Awards.
The paranormal thriller entitled The Lie won the GOLD medal in the 2013 Illumination Book Awards for fiction/suspense. A movie based on this book, entitled Foreseen, is currently a feature film.
Ashley delved into the paranormal with a Southern Gothic horror/suspense novel, Growl, which released in January of 2015. The suspenseful mystery Empty Shell released in September of 2014. Ashley teamed up with Lillian Hansen (Ashley calls her Mom!) and penned a three-part murder mystery/suspense series entitled The Magnolia Series. The first book, Blood Ties, released in 2015, and was voted one of the Top 50 Self-Published Books You Should Be Reading in 2015 at www.readfree.ly.
Whispered Pain released in October of 2015, and Night Court released December 13, 2015.
Tainted Cure, Tainted Reality, Tainted Future and Tainted World are the books in the post-apocalyptic/zombie genre, The Rememdium Series, and are receiving rave reviews for a fresh take on the zombie genre.
Ruined Wings is about a young woman’s descent into drug addiction and is currently in post-production for a short film.
Connect with Ashley:
Website: http://www.ashleyfontainne.com – Sign up for Ashley’s newsletter and receive two free e-books – Tain
ted Cure and Suicide Lake!
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ashleyfontainne
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ashley.fontainne
Movie site: Ruined Wings: https://ruinedwings.com/
Table of Contents
PRAISE FOR ASHLEY FONTAINNE
OTHER BOOKS BY ASHLEY FONTAINNE
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
Wednesday, April 14, 1993
CHAPTER TWO
Friday, November 20, 2015
CHAPTER THREE
Monday, November 21, 2016
CHAPTER FOUR
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
CHAPTER FIVE
Thursday, November 24, 2016
CHAPTER SIX
Thursday, November 24, 2016
CHAPTER SEVEN
Friday, November 25, 2016
CHAPTER EIGHT
Saturday, November 26, 2016
CHAPTER NINE
Saturday, November 26, 2016
CHAPTER TEN
Saturday, November 26, 2016
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Saturday, November 26, 2016
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sunday, November 27, 2016
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Thursday, December 1, 2016
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Thursday, December 1, 2016
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Thursday, December 1, 2016
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Saturday, December 3, 2016
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sunday, December 4, 2016
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sunday, December 4, 2016
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Fatal Agreements Page 36