by Jan Sumner
Chapter 22
The day after he found out, Jonathan called Amy to tell her. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. She immediately came over to console him and, to discuss what affect this might have on his writing the book.
They sat and talked most of an afternoon, Jonathan constantly drifting back to his childhood, unable to come out of the malaise he found himself in. Amy would sit patiently listening and only occasionally try and draw him out. She knew he was going to have to work himself through this and the book would just have to wait.
He called his dad every day to see how he was holding up. His dad was frustrated, members of the press had shown up and were snooping around, asking questions, causing problems … in quiet little Independence.
Jonathan was trying to get back to the book, but finding it difficult. His dad called and told him he was being hounded by the press. They were digging into their family history and had found out about Jack Zane's killing Jonathan’s great grandparents. He sounded upset and in need of some assistance. Jonathan told him he’d be there in a couple of days to help him. He and Amy had talked about it and he’d decided to go, even before his dad called.
Initially Jonathan tried to be civil, but as they relentlessly pursued them, it became more and more difficult to stay even remotely polite. It had been three days and Mike Hansen had called again wanting to know what they wanted to do with Matthew’s body. With everything Jonathan had been through regarding Jack Zane’s remains, he’d suggested to his dad they have Matthew cremated. Now, all this unwanted attention from the press cinched the decision. Jonathan asked Mike if he could discreetly take care of it and then send the ashes to his dad in Independence. Mike agreed.
He was dreading the trip. He and his dad had really found themselves as father-son over the past few years, and now the relationship was going to be put to the test.
When he arrived at the house, everything looked normal, at least on the outside. He thought he’d play it safe and park down the block and come in the back way. His dad was making lunch and turned as he came through the back door.
“Oh, Jonathan, it’s so good to see you…it’s been…chaotic around here.”
Jonathan could see and sense the relief in his dad. On his way home he’d thought about the many victims he’d interviewed and how some had handled it and others hadn’t. Now, here he and his father were facing the same prospect, stand up, or lay down – it was their choice.
He walked across the kitchen and gave his dad a hug, “Interesting huh? So, how are you holding up?”
“Okay, I guess. I think part of it is still the shock over what happened. I hardly had time to think about it, when bang, here were the reporters asking questions. I tried to be honest, but I don’t think that’s what they were after.”
“What do you mean? What were they after?”
“Dirt! They really didn’t care about us, or how this affected us, they just wanted all the gory details.”
“Like what?”
“Stuff like, what was he like as a kid, and did you sense he was a killer when he was young, garbage like that.”
“Oh Dad, I’m so sorry. That must have been awful. What did you tell them?”
“Nothing! I just told them he was kind of a loner and left when he was a teenager and we hadn’t heard from him since.
“That seemed to appease them, at least temporarily. But then they went into town and started asking all kinds of questions about our family and family history. That’s how they found out about Zane killing Howard and Doris.”
“What about mom, did they ask you about her?”
His dad moved into the living room and sat down. Jonathan could see it weighing on him and nothing would send him into a deep melancholy like the thought of Kim. Jonathan followed, sitting down across from him, waiting. He could see his mind spinning, wishing none of this had ever happened. Finally, Jonathan decided he had to say something, “Dad, let’s talk about this…”
“No, I’m all right. You and I have been able, over the past few years, to discuss things, one of which is your mom.
“I told them virtually nothing about her. I said she had been there when the murders occurred, but had escaped, unharmed.”
“Did they seem satisfied with that answer?”
His dad sat up straight, defiant, “Who the hell cares? That’s what I told them, and that’s all they’re going to get…from me!”
“Good, good for you. It’s none of their business. If they ask me, they’re getting nothing,” Jonathan said defiantly.
“It’s not you and me I’m worried about,” his dad said. “Its people in town, you know, our friends. Oh, I know most of them are good people and loyal to us, but sometimes when notoriety presents itself…well, they just can’t help it. I’m afraid that’s what might happen.
“But, you know, Jonathan, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Jonathan could see his dad had just talked himself into and out of worry and concern over something he had no control over.
“You’re right, dad, there is nothing we can do about it.”
His dad got up and went upstairs, telling him he’d be back in a minute. Jonathan sat stupefied that they’d fallen into this surreal mess. One minute he’s investigating a serial killer, the next he’s related to one … astonishing.
His dad returned with a wrapped box, his hands slightly trembling.
“Here it is…Matthew’s ashes,” he said handing the box to Jonathan. It was padded and covered in heavy plastic. Jonathan held it, not fully believing his brothers remains were in it. Then he got that eerie feeling, the same one he had standing on Jack Zane’s grave. It ran through him like a current of electricity. He slammed the box down on the coffee table. His dad looked at him curiously, “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry dad, I had…never mind.”
“No, what’s the matter, why did you do that?”
“Well, you know I went and saw where Jack Zane was buried and when I was standing over his grave…” He paused.
“What? What happened?”
“I don’t know, this strange, ghostlike feeling came over me. I really don’t know how to explain it…but, I just felt it again.
“You know, maybe I’ve just been to immersed in all this stuff…maybe it’s gotten to me a little.”
“A little…Jonathan, I think you need a break. I can deal with the situation here, why don’t you go somewhere, take a vacation, get away from all this?
His dad picked the box up off the table and took it back upstairs. When he returned he was acting more upbeat and positive things would work out fine. Of course, he was doing this for Jonathan’s sake, he was still worried; not only for his family and their reputation, but, by how Jonathan acted and reacted to his brother's ashes. It was unsettling.
Despite his dad’s suggestion, he decided to stay a few days and spend some time with his dad, make sure things didn’t get too crazy.
His fondness for his dad had grown over the past few years and he felt a certain responsibility to protect him. Oh, he knew his dad could take care of himself, but there was a little voice inside that told him to stay around.
Once the press had gotten all they could out of Jonathan, his dad and the locals; they moved on. The history of what happened was easily obtained through newspaper clippings and the like and, to the press, Jack Zane was old news. They were after sleaze about the new killer, Matthew Smyth. Once that was exhausted, they left; and not any too soon according to most of the local townspeople, including Jonathan’s dad. Now, hopefully, things could get back to normal.
Since Matthew had been gone so many years, there really wasn’t anything to tell. By all accounts he’d been a pretty normal little boy. Oh, he’d had his moments, like all kids, but nothing out of the ordinary…according to the good folk of Independence. The media would have to dig elsewhere to come up with the sordid details
they so desperately wanted.
Jonathan stayed a few days with his dad, then headed back to New Orleans. Amy and the book were waiting.
It was raining heavily and by the time he got into his apartment he was soaked. Amy had been there and cleaned up his mess, which he’d left out of anger, along with a note:
Dear Jonathan,
I don’t know what happened, but I found all your paper work on floor…so I cleaned it up. Hope things went well in Independence. Please call as soon as you get back. We can get together and plan our next move (moves – ha,ha).
Love,
Amy
He was tired and decided to take a hot shower, then call. He could see he had some voice mail, but it could wait. When he was warmed up and comfortable, he’d call Amy and check his messages.
He got a hot cup of coffee, sat down at his desk and played back his voice mail. There was a message from his dad, wanting him to call and let him know he’d made it back safe, and one from Amy wanting to basically know the same thing. Then, a mysterious one, from a reporter in Iowa, he said he had some questions, but also had some information he thought might be of interest.
What could he know, Jonathan thought, I think I’ve heard all the questions and what information could he have that I haven’t come across in my research?
Well, whatever info the guy had would have to wait until tomorrow, right now he was going to call his dad, and then call Amy and ask her to come over for the night. Maybe they could get an early jump on some of those moves she’d mentioned in her note.