Authors: Tim Waggoner
Though he made no movement or sound to draw her attention, Lenora tore her gaze from the pretty boy’s face and looked at Marshall. Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. She obviously wasn’t thrilled to see her father, which worked out well, as he wasn’t particularly happy at the moment either.
Marshall entered the Solarium, walking at a measured pace. He kept his gaze fastened on Lenora, all but ignoring the boy. The boy, however, was too much of a go-getter to let a little thing like an elder’s indifference stop him from trying to make a favorable impression, and thereby gain a bit of added status in the family.
“Hello, sir. I’m Sebastian Cross, from Atlanta.” His southern accent was noticeable, but not overdone. Carefully honed to be charming and not off-putting, Marshall guessed. The boy stuck out his hand for Marshall to shake, but Marshall didn’t bother to look at it, let alone reach out to clasp it.
“I’m sorry to be so rude, Sebastian, but I have a very important matter to discuss with my daughter. Dinner will be served shortly. Why don’t you start making your way toward the dining room?”
The boy flicked his gaze to Lenora for a hint how to respond. She looked at Marshall, trying to assess her father’s mood. Finally she jerked her chin in the direction of the door and the boy, through clearly disappointed, got the message. He smiled, trying to at least appear gracious about being dismissed.
“I understand completely, sir. It was an honor to meet you, and I hope we have a chance to speak at more length some other time.” He gave Lenora a last look before heading toward the Solarium’s door. Though the boy’s mojito was still half-f, Marshall wagered it would be empty before Sebastian had gotten very far down the hall, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the boy went off in search of a refill.
When Sebastian was gone, Lenora said, “That was classy of you, Father. You should write a book on etiquette.”
She raised her glass to her lips, but before she could take a sip, Marshall’s hand shot out fast as a striking snake and grabbed hold of her wrist. Her gaze hardened and the hatred in her eyes hit him like physical blow.
“Did you grab Mother like this?”
Marshall was ashamed at his loss of control, but he didn’t release his hold on Lenora. “I know where you were last night.”
Lenora’s eyes widened and her anger gave way to fear. Still, she tried to put up a brave front. “I went into town last night. So what?”
“You met a boy named Ray Porter at the Burrito Bungalow around eleven o’clock. You got in his Camaro and rode off with him.”
“Once again, so what?” She’d regained some of her self-assurance, enough to pull free of Marshall’s grip. He let her go without a struggle and didn’t try to stop her from taking a sip of her mojito this time. The pause gave him a chance to regain some of his own self-control.
Lenora went on. “We just went for a ride. It wasn’t like we were running off to elope or anything. He seemed nice at first, but he turned out to be a jerk in the end.” A measure of her former hatred returned to her gaze. “Just like all men.”
Marshall ignored her gibe. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. We went for a drive. I convinced him to take me to the Deveraux Farm. We parked, he put the moves of me, and he got pissed when I wouldn’t spread my legs for him.
I
got pissed then, and I drove his Camaro back to town, leaving him to walk home. I parked the Camaro back at the Bungalow so he could find it, and I got back into my car — I took the Beemer last night — and then I came home. I ate a pint of Cherry Garcia, and then I went to bed. Happy?”
Marshall detected no deception in Lenora’s tone, but he knew that didn’t mean much. Crosses learned to lie as soon as they learned to speak. He reached out with his mind, intending to give her a gentle push, little more than a mental nudge, really, to urge her to tell the truth.
Her eyes widened and she took a half-step back. Surprise swiftly gave way to anger, and he felt her push back, far more strongly than he thought her capable of. He withstood her counterassault, though it took more effort than he expected.
“I didn’t realize you’d grown so strong. I’m impressed. I am, however, disappointed that you could be goaded into revealing the measure of your power so easily. You lose an important advantage against an opponent if you lay all your cards face-up on the table during the first hand.”
“Spare me your Las Vegas version of Sun Tzu. What the hell were you thinking of, trying that on me? I’m your daughter!”
Marshall gave her a grim smile. “Which is the only reason I allow you to speak to me with such disrespect — up to a point.”
“Funny. I thought the reason you cut me so much slack is because you feel guilty for driving Mother away.”
The words were delivered coolly, but they struck Marshall with far more impact than Lenora’s push-back had. He understood how Lenora felt and wished he could tell her the truth, but he kept his expression impassive. He’d spent a lifetime concealing his emotions from potential enemies — which to a Cross meant everyone. He couldn’t change now, not even for his child.
“I apologize for trying to push you, but it’s vital I know the truth about what you did and where you went. Ray Porter was killed last night.”
Marshall observed Lenora’s reaction closely, alert for the slightest hint of guilt. Whether or not she was capable of murder was a question that didn’t even occur to him. She was a Cross and his daughter. The question was whether she’d had anything to do with
this
murder. But he saw only shock and disbelief on her face. Either Lenora was better at masking her true feelings than he’d thought, or she’d truly been unaware of Ray Porter’s death.
He quickly told her the details of the boy’s murder. When he was finished, she said, “Why haven’t I heard about it before now? I mean, I know why
you
didn’t tell me. You didn’t know I was with Ray last night. But I haven’t heard anything on the news and nobody here is talking about it.”
“I’ve done my best to stall the reporters. You can imagine how they’re going to sensationalize the story, especially with the connection to the Coulter killings. But they’ve gotten wind of it now, and you can bet it’ll be all over the evening broadcasts.”
Lenora’s eyes narrowed. “It’s driving you crazy that you can’t manage this, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter how strong you are, you can’t make everyone do what you want, and that just pisses you off to no end … especially in
this
case, huh?”
Marshall felt something then that he hadn’t experience in a very long time. Fear.
“What are you implying?” That’s what he said. What he thought was:
How much does she know?
She shrugged. “Nothing. The bigger the problem the harder it is to control. The harder something is to control, the more it makes you angry. That’s all.”
Marshall very much doubted that
was
all, but he decided to let it go. For now.
“Did you push the Porter boy?”
“Why? Do you think it had something to do with his getting killed?”
“Did
you?” he repeated.
“A little.” She answered in a soft voice and lowered her gaze to the floor. No longer was she a self-assured woman in her early twenties. She was the recalcitrant little girl he’d disciplined so many times over the years. He didn’t want to discipline her now, though. He wanted to comfort her, to hold her and tell her it was all right, everything was going to work out, he’d see to it. But he couldn’t bring himself to bridge the emotional gap between them. He wished Charlotte was here. Lenora’s mother had been so much better at serving their daughter’s emotional needs than he ever could be.
Lenora went on. “Ray didn’t want to go to the Deveraux Farm, so I gave him a push to make him take me. Nothing major.” She raised her head and met Marshall’s gaze once more. She smiled weakly. “It didn’t take a lot to convince him. It’s not like I need to do much pushing to get boys to do what I want, you know?”
Marshall did. Lenora was heartbreakingly beautiful, just like her mother.
“I doubt your push had anything to do with Ray’s murder. It’s possible the boy’s judgment might’ve been clouded, his reaction time slowed a bit, but as you said, nothing major. I’m more concerned with why you chose to go to the Deveraux Farm. It seems like quite a coincidence, given how Ray was killed — and what happened at the Caffeine Café before that.”
“No reason. I’d never been there before. That’s where normal girls go to park with boys. I guess I just wanted to see what it was like to be like everyone else. At least for one night.”
“But you’re not like everyone else, you’re — ”
“A Cross. I know. It’s not like anyone ever lets me forget it. But if you want the truth, being royalty can get pretty goddamned boring. I don’t need to go to college because I’ll never need to work to support myself. I don’t have anywhere to go or anything to do, except be rich and powerful.”
“There’s much more to being a Cross than that, and you know it. We have responsibilities.” He thought once more of the small stone icon in his jacket pocket. “Important ones.”
“Maybe so. But why should that mean we can’t have lives of our own as well?” She paused, then asked, “Will I need to speak with the sheriff?”
Marshall understood what his daughter was really asking.
Are you going to take care of this? Will you protect me?
“Joanne will discover that you …
took a ride
with the boy sooner or later. You met him in public. Someone likely recognized you.” Left unspoken was the reason — because she was his daughter. “I’ll speak with Joanne, but the least she’ll want you to do is give a statement. I’ll try to convince her to come here to take it, though. To save you the discomfort of going into town.”
Lenora’s lips pursed in an expression that came dangerously close to a sneer. “To save
you
embarrassment, you mean.”
Marshall decided to let that pass, primarily because there was more than a modicum of truth to it.
Lenora looked down at her empty glass. “If you’ll excuse me, Father, I need a refill.”
She walked past Marshall and out of the solarium. He stood alone, listening to the waterfall and the birds as he thought. It was several moments before he realized that not only hadn’t Lenora reacted when he’d mentioned what had happened at the Caffeine Café, she hadn’t asked him to supply any details. He supposed it was possible that news of the break-in and vandalism had spread through town and reached Sanctity by now. Cross County was big, but it wasn’t
that
big.
Maybe he should give Ronnie a call, though. To buy a little insurance, just in case.
• • •
After dinner, Marshall entered a special room on Sanctity’s upper floor. The door was locked and only two people had keys: Marshall and his mother. He unlocked the door, entered, and locked it behind him. He crossed the room, which was empty of furniture or decoration of any sort, and stopped before an elevator. He used another key to activate it, and when the door opened he stepped inside. The interior was padded with black leather, and there was only a single unmarked button on the control panel. Marshall pressed the button, the door closed, and he felt the elevator smoothly begin its descent. He then reached into his suit jacket and removed the warm stone figurine he’d carried since his second visit to the coroner’s office.
He didn’t know what role his family might or might not have played in Ray Porter’s death, but if there was even a chance the family had something to do with his death, Marshall’s duty was clear.
He looked down at the icon nestled in his palm.
“On behalf of my family, I apologize,” he whispered.
The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and Marshall stepped out. Motion-detection sensors caused a light to come on overhead, illuminating a row of small motorized carts. Marshall chose one, climbed in, pressed a button to activate the engine, and then turned on the headlights. The cart hummed as he drove down a narrow tunnel, bearing the spirit of Ray Porter to its final resting place.
Barrow Hill Mound is one of the major prehistoric Native American features in Ohio. The largest conical-shaped earthwork of its kind in the state, it measures more than eighty feet in height. Archeologists believe the mound was created by the Nadana Indians around 1000 BC. The origin of these advanced people is unknown, but they lived in the Southern Ohio region until about 400 AD, when all traces of their culture disappeared
.
The Nadana were the first Indians in the area to domesticate certain food plants and create what, for the time, were sophisticated works of art. They lived in permanent settlements on the shore of what is now called Lake Hush. The Nadana are believed to have developed intricate and elaborate death ceremonies during which they interred their dead within an earthen mound which expanded in size as their culture developed
.
Barrow Hill Mound Park is open to the public during daylight hours throughout the year. Picnic facilities are available
.
• • •
“I don’t think we’re allowed to climb it, Sarah.”
“C’mon, Jo!” A ten-year-old girl with short black hair and skin so white it almost gleamed like ivory let out a laugh that was half joyful, half snotty. “Don’t be such a chicken!”
The two girls stood at the base of Barrow Hill, bikes lying on the grass behind them on the other side of the metal railing that encircled the huge grass-covered mound. Joanne had reluctant to climb over the railing, even to placate the girl who was the only person to stay friends with her after her disappearance. Almost a year had passed since Mr. Ramsey had carried her out of the woods, but kids still made fun of her, called her names like Milk Carton Face and Invisible Girl. That was hard enough, but some children — and some adults — acted scared of her, as if they sensed she’d somehow changed during the six days she was missing. Even her own mom and dad acted different around her. They were still nice, but they didn’t touch her very often anymore and tried to avoid standing too close to her, as if whatever had happened to her might be contagious.