The Sibling

by Diane Moody

  Oh well. Maybe she read too much into his kiss last night. Did he already have someone significant in his life? Had that early morning text been intended for her, whoever she was? Either way, she had way too much on her mind to let a little kiss distract her.

  Much.

  As she passed the church and headed for home, she mentally shut the door on those thoughts and started listing the remaining tasks needing attention before she could fly back to New York. She jumped and almost fell to the ground when someone touched her elbow.

  “I’m so sorry!” Peyton said, pointing to his ears. “I called out your name a couple of times, but I guess you couldn’t hear me. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Hand over her heart, she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “You scared me!”

  “Sorry! I was just leaving the office and saw you. I didn’t know you were a runner,” he said, falling in step as he walked beside her.

  “It’s how I keep my sanity. A lot cheaper than therapy.”

  “That makes sense. Hey, I wanted to thank you for the muffin you dropped off for me this morning.”

  “Oh good, you got it then. I was afraid your secretary would either toss it in the trash or eat it herself.”

  He laughed. “She just might. Sugar thinks she’s my gatekeeper, so she can come across a little protective at times. But rest assured, I got the muffin and thoroughly enjoyed it. In fact, I meant to call and explain the text I sent you early this morning, but I had an emergency phone call and immediately left the house.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. Well, no. It’s a long story. Hey, I’m headed home so I can take Macy for a walk. Would you care to join me?”

  “Oh? I don’t know. I should probably—”

  “Macy will be awfully disappointed.”

  She smiled. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”

  “Good. The parsonage is just over there.”

  “You live in a parsonage?” she asked, walking beside him. “Isn’t that kind of old school?”

  “Yes, but this is Braxton, remember? The church has owned the house for decades, and it’s so convenient. Plus, it’s part of my benefits package. Besides, it’s not too shabby.”

  As they approached the small Craftsman house, Aubrey stopped in her tracks. “Oh Peyton, it’s beautiful. And not at all what I expected.”

  He smiled. “Like I said, not too shabby.”

  “It’s positively charming.”

  She admired the bungalow painted a subtle shade of olive-taupe accented by a creamy ivory trim. Above, wooden trusses towered over the four pillars made with large stones below and the same cream-painted beams above. At the top of the stone steps, a wide front porch provided plenty of room on one side for a grouping of wicker chairs and sofa decorated with colorful chair pads and accent pillows. A couple of lamps set on small end tables gave the most warming appeal to the home, even as dusk set in. On the opposite end, two rockers and a swing banked the end of the porch. Potted flowers offered a pop of color to the porch.

  “Was it like this when you moved in?”

  “Yes, thankfully. Henry Parker and his crew gave the place a total makeover both inside and out before I moved to town. I love it. Come on in and see the rest while I feed Macy and get her leashed.”

  The sweet dog wagged and wiggled around her, which Aubrey couldn’t resist. Dropping to her knees she gave the girl a good rub behind the ears and under her jawline. “How are you, Macy? You sure have a pretty house to roam in, don’t you?”

  “Come here, girl,” Peyton called from the kitchen. “Time for dinner.”

  As the retriever scampered down the hall, her nails clicking on the hardwood floor, Aubrey looked around the little house. The same attention to detail made the home even lovelier inside. A stone fireplace matched the exterior stone with a long hearth. Before it, a large woven rug on which sat a soft leather chair and ottoman, and two matching sofas. Toward the back of the house, the small kitchen was equipped with a gas range and stainless steel appliances. A small table with four chairs sat in the corner banked with windows.

  Peyton put the bag of dog food in a large pantry then washed his hands in the sink. “There’s a porch in back that’s as nice as the one out front. I spend as much time there as I can.”

  She glanced out the windows to find more wicker and tables and lamps on one side, a huge hammock on the other.

  “The master bedroom is down that hall,” he continued, “and there are two more bedrooms upstairs. I use one of those for an office.”

  She gave herself a tour, finding each room tidy and quaint, tastefully decorated.

  “Does the church pay for your housekeeper?”

  “I guess you could say that since they pay my salary.”

  “Goodness. I’m impressed. Your mother must have raised you well. The whole house is spotless.”

  “She’d be pleased, but I think maybe I’m a little obsessive about the place, in my own quirky way. I feel so blessed to live in such a perfect little house, I want to live up to it. If that makes sense. And I seem to handle stress better in a clean house, so I try to stay on top of it.”

  “I’m that way too. Of course, when you live in an apartment the size of a postage stamp, you have to keep everything in its place or lose your mind.”

  “Do you live in Manhattan?”

  “No, I’m in Brooklyn.”

  He snapped the leash onto the dog’s collar. “Okay, I think Macy and I are ready if you are?”

  They set out, walking side by side as Macy tugged at the leash, darting wherever she could, sniffing here and there.

  “So where were we?” he asked. “Did I get around to thanking you for the muffin?”

  “Yes, you did. And then you said you had some kind of emergency phone call?”

  “That’s right. It was Kathleen Creech, Harley’s sister. Jeff was finally able to track her down in Chattanooga late yesterday afternoon to tell her about Harley. She drove home immediately, and Jeff and Cameron—he’s Jeff’s deputy—spent several hours with her last night.”

  “That had to be so awful. From what others have said, it sounds like they were really close.”

  “Yes, but as different as day and night. Anyway, she called me first thing this morning, so of course I drove straight over.”

  “That had to be rough.”

  “Yes, it was. It’s the part of my job I doubt I’ll ever get used to.”

  “But you’re really good at it.” She smiled and added, “Even when family members act a little skeptical.”

  “Nah, you weren’t skeptical. You were just missing the old preacher.”

  “Actually, no. I just couldn’t believe someone as—” She caught herself and glanced off in the distance when she felt his eyes on her.

  “Someone as what?”

  “Young.” And handsome. And kind.

  “Oh.”

  “So, Kathleen,” she continued, trying to re-route the conversation. “Were you able to help her cope?”

  “Well … the thing is, I really shouldn’t say more. It’s part of my job to treat such situations in strict confidence. Same as I did with you and Faye when your father died. I hope you understand.”

  “Of course. It was thoughtless of me to ask.”

  “But perfectly natural.”

  “Here we are,” she said, thankful they’d reached her mother’s house. “Thanks for the escort.”

  He reached out, stopping her. “Listen, Aubrey, it’s kind of a crazy time for me right now, but I just wanted to say—”

  “It’s okay, Peyton. Really. I understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “That you don’t have time for … I mean, last night was no big deal.”

  He seemed genuinely surprised, but before he could respond, his cell phone rang. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this. But don’t go inside just yet. Can you wait?”

  Before she could answer, he connected the call.
<
br />   “Hi, Sterling.”

  As he listened, Aubrey watched his face drain of color.

  “He did? When?”

  His eyes tracked over to hers, but she couldn’t discern the context of the call.

  “Seriously?” He paused briefly. “Okay.”

  He slowly lowered the phone and stared at it.

  “Peyton?”

  “My brother Tristan was released from prison last Thursday.” He raised his eyes to hers. “Two days before Harley was killed.”

  At half past four that afternoon, Aubrey walked toward her father’s grave at the Veterans Cemetery, the mound on the hill still covered with straw and some wilted flowers. She gathered the withered blooms to dispose of later on her way out. She dropped them at her feet before settling in to visit her dad. The headstone wouldn’t be ready for a few more weeks. In its place, his name printed on a temporary sign in a metal frame. A pitiful marker for such a loving and remarkable man.

  It was her first time here since the funeral. She knew she hadn’t quite made it through the stages of grief, whatever they were. She wasn’t sure of their order, but mostly she still felt numb. Was that denial? She shook her head as her breath began to slow and tried to focus, finding it harder than she’d imagined.

  “Daddy … this is so strange, isn’t it? I know you’re not here, and that’s okay. I don’t know if you can hear me up in heaven, but I just wanted to come and tell you how much we miss you. I know you’re surprised I’m still in Braxton. I’m sure you thought I’d fly out as soon as the last word of your funeral was spoken.”

  She smiled, imagining his laughter. How he loved to tease her and make her laugh.

  “The thing is, I need to stay a while longer. I’m a little worried about Mom. And the shop. And I want to make sure all the financial matters are settled. So yeah, big surprise I’m not rushing back to my job, which, oddly enough, doesn’t seem to matter much to me right now. Never saw that coming, but there it is.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi … and thank you for being such a wonderful father. Yes, I missed you whenever you were flying half a world away, but you more than made up for it when you came home. Every time. You truly were the best. You may be gone from this world, but you’ll always be here in my heart.”

  She wiped her cheeks, supposing it was okay to let a few tears fall. He would understand. Little by little, she let go of the pent-up feelings she’d pushed away during her afternoon run. She held nothing back, imagining him here, holding her in his arms as she wept. With each tear came a cleansing unlike anything she’d ever experienced. As if the gaping hole in her heart was slowly beginning to heal.

  Then she pulled herself together, wiped her eyes once more, then kissed her fingertips before pressing them to the straw.

  “I love you, Daddy. And I always will.”

  Chapter 15

  “MR. MAYOR! DON’T TEAR DOWN THAT TOWER!”

  In her best Reagan-esque battle cry, Georgia Schwimmer stood her ground, glaring at the standing-room-only crowd at City Hall as tears tracked wide black trails of mascara down her cheeks. As her bright pink lipstick bled into the tiny lines feathering her trembling lips, she gripped the microphone and continued her rant.

  “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves! You act like that water tower is nothing but an eyesore, when it’s the very essence of who we are as Braxtonians!”

  “Why?” Lester Roland roared from the back of the room. “It’s a water tower, for crying out loud. With our new underground water system, it’s worthless. It’s obsolete and needs to go.”

  “Now, Lester, you know the rules,” Mayor Suggs countered from the long desk at the front of the room. “It’s Georgia’s turn to speak. If you have something to say, then stand in line with the rest of the folks and wait your turn. Go ahead, Georgia.”

  “Thank you, Mayor. I simply wanted to say that just because Harley and Kathleen can’t be here tonight to lead the cause of saving our beloved tower doesn’t mean you folks can ramrod this ridiculous plan to, to … obliterate our beautiful tower! Why, you might as well hire a steamroller to level the whole city while you’re at it!”

  “Oh, sit down and shut up, Georgia,” hollered Frank Gowden. “No one wants to watch you blubber all over yourself and slobber all over the microphone! Let someone else speak, will ya?”

  “That’s enough, Frank!” the mayor barked.

  “I’ll hand over the microphone when I’m good and ready!” Georgia snapped. “I have as much right as anyone else to stand up and say what I want to say. Why, Mr. Lanham, may he rest in peace, was a great man, and most of us here in Braxton have made a good living thanks to his family planting the Lanham Corporate headquarters here. And that tower stands as a memorial to his life and his legacy because that’s where he took his final breath before falling to his death.”

  “But he didn’t FALL,” Frank bellowed. “HE JUMPED!”

  The room exploded as opposing sides shouted, some shaking fists in the air, while the mayor pounded his gavel again and again.

  “QUIET!” Sheriff Jeff Carter shouted as he jumped up to take a stand in front of the desk. Georgia handed him the microphone and returned to her seat.

  “Settle down!” Jeff barked, resting his hand on his sidearm. “You all sit down and calm down, or I’ll haul every one of you over to the station for disturbing the peace.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” the mayor said. “Now I realize there are strong feelings on both sides of this issue. But as Sheriff Carter said, either conduct yourselves with order, or we’ll clear the room. Understood?”

  A few mumbles but nothing more.

  “All right, then,” he said. “Let’s proceed. Mrs. Winters, you’re next.”

  Peyton pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing he hadn’t come. Certainly not with everything else going on. The meeting at City Hall had been on the calendar for two months. While Kathleen and Harley had co-chaired the Committee for the Preservation of the Water Tower, the mayor’s office insisted the meeting go ahead as planned in spite of their absence. Tensions were high, and the matter needed resolution.

  Peyton debated leaving, but instead stretched the kinks out of his back and looked across the room. He was surprised to spot Aubrey sitting beside her mother a few rows back on the far side of the room. Her attention remained focused on the front of the room, so he had no idea if she knew he was there.

  Something tugged at his heart seeing her again after their awkward parting in front of her house earlier that evening. He’d been so shocked by Sterling’s call and learning of Tristan’s release, that he had trouble making conversation with her afterward, knowing there was something he’d meant to say, but drawing a total blank. She’d graciously insisted he go since he was to meet with Sterling. He thanked her for understanding and said he’d see her later. But even as he walked away, he knew something had shifted between them.

  With Macy in tow, he’d gone straight to Sterling’s office where they discussed the news of Tristan’s release. There he learned that Sterling’s detective, Reginald Ledbetter, had obtained copies of Tristan’s file at the West Tennessee State Penitentiary and the details of his release four days prior.

  “Bottom line, Tristan served his time and was released. He’s assigned to a parole officer named Leo Crispin. Reggie talked to him by phone, but he said Tristan isn’t required to report to him until the end of his first week.”

  “So he could be anywhere.”

  “Yes, I suppose he could. However, Reggie also convinced the warden to let him talk to Tristan’s cellmate. A guy named Vince Grant. He and Tristan never got along, so he was all too happy to tell Reggie what he knew. You won’t like hearing this, but he said Tristan planned to come straight to Braxton.”

  Peyton had dropped his head in his hands with a groan.

  “That’s still not proof he was here,” Sterling added.

  “I know, but it’s the only explanation.” He sat up again. “At least, if we believe what Ida clai
ms she saw. Which I don’t, by the way.”

  “We’ll depose her tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s great, all except for the thousands of lies she’s apparently told over the years.”

  “You don’t worry about that. I know a thing or two about getting the truth out of folks.”

  “I’m sure you do. Sorry.”

  “Peyton, we’ll find him.”

  “The strange thing is, I don’t know which is worse. Finding out he did it, or never finding him at all.”

  They’d left Sterling’s office on foot and stopped by the parsonage to leave Macy at home, then made their way here to City Hall to join the throngs fighting over the water tower.

  Peyton tuned back in as voices rose again, many from folks he’d never seen before.

  “Which is all the more reason to pull it down! Not a one of us look at that blasted tower without thinking of Peter Lanham’s suicide! TAKE IT DOWN!”

  “Oh, and by that reasoning, I suppose we should haul the baptistry out of the church since Harley died there?”

  “PIPE DOWN!” the mayor yelled as Jeff took the microphone from the last speaker and handed it to Henry Parker who was next in line.

  “Mayor, it looks to me like we’re not making much progress tonight,” Henry said. “I suggest we table the discussion until—”

  Smitty Jeters snatched the microphone from Henry. “I think there’s an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed. Every single one of us in this room know that Stone Decker wants that property. He’s wanted it for decades, but never had a chance as long as the city owned it. Then Lanham took a dive off that tower, and he finally had a glimmer of hope. Decker’s the one behind all this! Why do you think he was running for mayor? That tower stands on the highest property in Braxton, which is where he’s always wanted to build himself his very own Taj Mahal.”