Read Knowing Online

Authors: Laurel Dewey

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Women Sleuths, #Private Investigators, #FICTION/Suspense

Knowing (39 page)

A lone tear drifted down Blythe’s face. “Beautiful, Iris. Just beautiful. And you said it perfectly. I could almost hear Werner’s voice in yours.”

Jane smiled. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

Everyone took a seat and dug into the first course, which appeared to be a medley of corn, green beans, fava beans, jalapenos and tomatoes. Slow cooking also involved slow eating. At least that’s what Jane discovered after devouring her first course and sliding her plate to the side before some of the others had finished filling their plates. Blythe set a huge platter of freshly baked bread on the table and was in the middle of telling the group how it was pre-baked in an authentic outdoor clay oven and then finished off in a solar oven built by a group of unwed mothers, when Blossom emerged at the top of the stairs, screaming.

“I cannot believe I am part of this family!” Blossom bellowed, her whiny voice hitting decibels that would startle a laying hen. “Nobody cares about me!
Nobody
!”

While the rest of the group remained taciturn, Jane matter-of-factly stood up and dished herself another serving. “Don’t know how you got the tomatoes to taste this fresh in April,” she offered.

Blossom pounded down the stairs and when she reached the kitchen, she abruptly crossed her arms across her teenage chest. “Why won’t anyone listen to me? If you push me, do I not fall? If you cut me, do I not bleed?”

Jane plopped down in her seat. “If I shoot you,” she mumbled under her breath, “will you not shut up?”

Blythe suffocated a chuckle, as did a few of the visiting guests. Jane noticed that Blossom’s little brother was looking at her with a huge grin pasted on his face.

Blossom swung around and, with hands on her hips, approached Jane. “That’s
not
funny!”

“No, Blossom, actually it was. But what’s even funnier is the way you’re acting, with the emphasis on ‘acting.’ You make Sarah Bernhardt look like a shy recluse.”

Blossom’s mouth dropped open and she ran screaming up the stairs and into her room with a defined slam of the door.

Jane furrowed her brow. “She knows who Sarah Bernhardt is?”

Blossom’s brother piped up. “That’s what Werner used to call her all the time.”

Jane sat back. “Is that so?”

Blythe brought out a few more platters. “It’s amazing how in tune you and your brother are, Iris. Tell us how he’s doing.”

Jane was glad she had a prop of food in front of her. After taking a bite and chewing it slowly, she sipped some water. “He’s overseas right now…in Africa, actually. He’s working at a relief center there for tribes who have been displaced.”

Blythe frowned. “Displaced? Come on, Iris. You know better than that. ‘Displaced’ is a nice word for ‘violently overthrown’ or ‘slaughtered.’”

Jane nodded. “Yeah. It’s a nightmare over there. But that’s where Werner’s heart is right now.” She glanced at Harlan who smiled.

Blythe sat down at the head of the table, serving herself a plate. “You know, Iris, Werner never said you were married. How did you and Hank meet?”

Harlan looked at her. “You know, I’d like to hear that story again, Iris.”

Jane took another slow bite of food and looked across the table at Harlan. “I met Hank when I was working up in Midas, Colorado.”

“Werner never mentioned what you did for a living,” Blythe said.

Jane let out a slow breath. “I was doing fraud investigation at the time for an insurance company. One day, I went to lunch at this sports bar on the main drag called The Rabbit Hole. And the guy behind the bar was Hank. I later found out that he owned the place and that he used to be a cop, who also specialized in fraud cases.”

Harlan never took his eyes off Jane, drawn into her story and fascinated.

“What drew the two of you together?” Blythe asked.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Jane smiled. “Hank knows how to build the best hot dog you’ve ever tasted. And he makes a mean chicken salad too.”

“Well, food is, of course, important,” Blythe declared, “but I was more interested in what drew you and Hank together emotionally.”

Jane swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to answer that.” She struggled as all eyes were pinned on her. She kept her focus on Harlan. “I suppose it’s because Hank is the only person in this world who really gets me. I’m not used to that. I’m used to the fight…so, having somebody look at you and all you see is love coming back feels strange to me. I don’t have to worry about him going out on me. I don’t have to question his integrity. He’s solid and he’s dependable.” Jane felt the emotion ball in her throat. “Maybe in time, I’ll figure out what I did to deserve that.”

The room was silent. Jane took a sip of water and prayed to God that someone would speak up.

Blythe leaned across the table toward Jane. “Beautifully said, Iris.”

Harlan winked at Jane. “I second that.”

For the next three hours, the meal continued with one platter of food after another brought out and “eaten with purpose.” People talked and laughed and exchanged opinions on the world’s news reports. Gradually, groups naturally began to form of likeminded individuals, with Harlan attracting more women to his satellite group than the others. Jane glanced across the room to Blythe’s young son. His focus lingered on her a little too long before he purposely got up, grabbed a jacket and walked outside into the night air. Jane waited a few minutes, before quietly removing herself from the kitchen and sneaking outside without anyone noticing.

The air was chilled and befitted a heavier jacket. With no streetlights around and the moonless sky above her, Jane crept slowly across the yard, trying not to fall over the scattered hay bales.

“Hey,” a voice softly said.

Jane turned to the sound. “Where are you?”

“Wait a second until your eyes get used to it,” the boy said.

She stood in the cold, her fingertips feeling the sting of the night air. Plunging them into her jacket pocket, she began to make out a few outlines of farm equipment and buildings. Gingerly moving around the hay bales, she crossed next to the boy. He leaned against a post and stared into the clear night sky.

“Do you know where Orion’s Belt is?” he asked her.

“No. Is that why you wanted me to come out here?”

He kept his head tilted up toward the starry sky. “Nah.”

Jane waited, feeling the cold creep closer. “Well, okay…happy stargazing.” She started off.

“Werner and I were good friends. Even though I was only nine when he showed up, he always talked to me like I was older. He worked here two years in a row, during the whole season, so I got to know him real well. And one thing I know is that he’s an only child.” He turned to Jane for the first time.

She walked back to his side. “That’s odd. He told your mom he had an older sister.”

He smiled. “I know. He told me the truth. He told her something else.”

Jane started to speak when the boy “shushed” her quickly.

“Don’t say a word,” he whispered in her ear.

Jane heard the faint crack of footsteps coming from the side of the house.

The boy whispered in her ear again. “Follow me. Be
quiet
.”

Jane moved behind the boy and down the long driveway. When they reached the road, the boy checked behind them to ensure their privacy. “He’ll be down here any second,” he whispered.

“Who?” she whispered back.

“Jude.”

Jane nodded. “Right. I already have him pegged.”

He regarded her carefully. “I need to show you something. Got a flashlight on you?”

She shook her head and walked with him to the van in the field. Once inside, she grabbed a blanket and covered both of them. The boy climbed into the passenger seat and scanned the darkness around him.

“I don’t know your name,” Jane said.

“Sage. Yours?”

She contemplated honesty but fell short. “Anne. Anne LeRóy.”

He looked at her with penetrating eyes. “That’s not your name,” he stated.

She met his stare and raised it. “That’s what I want you to call me.”

“Fair enough.” He looked out into the coal night. “It is kinda funny, you know? You calling yourself Iris and Gabe calling himself Werner.”

Jane wrapped the blanket around her chilled hands and lap. “Okay. So you know about that. What else do you know?”

“That I’m supposed to help you. That’s what he told me,” Sage offered, turning around and looking closely into the distance.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Jane asked.

“Why do you think?

Jane nodded. “Okay. So what is Jude’s problem?”

Sage sighed. “Whoever was after Gabe, got to Jude first. Then Jude sold him out.”

Jane felt her blood boil. “What was he worth?”

Sage shook his head, showing disgust. “Thirty bottles of Silver Whiskey. It’s Jude’s favorite.”

“Right. Jude’s a real connoisseur.”

“He’ll sell you out, too. You and your friend.”

Jane turned to the boy. “To
who
? You got names?”

“No. Gabe never mentioned names on purpose. He told me that if anything happened to him, it was meant to be.” He swallowed hard, staring into his lap. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“I knew it,” Sage whispered, trying to hold back his tears. “I don’t want to know how it happened, okay?”

Jane nodded. “Okay. So Gabe said you were supposed to help me?”

He got a hold of himself. “He told me to wait for the day when his older sister, Iris, showed up. He said when that happened, the ‘wolf was gonna be at the door,’ and you had to work quickly. It was like his own little…prophecy. But he was right on with everything else he ever told me so I believed him.” He turned to Jane with a shrug of his shoulders. “And he was right again.”

Jane looked at the kid in shock. Her head was spinning with a million thoughts and fears. “The wolf at the door” had to be either Rudy or Romulus. “You said you had something to show me?”

Sage nodded. Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, he brought out a folded postcard and handed it to Jane.

She turned on the interior light and looked at the card. It was the exact one she had that came next in the sequence. Jane turned the card over. Gabe wrote three words on the card, “YOU’RE NOT DREAMING.” She felt dizzy, even though she was seated.

“You okay?” Sage asked.

“No. But it’ll pass.” She looked at the photo again. “You know where this is?”

“Yeah. It’s way up on the mountain, about five miles east of here. It’s where Gabe used to camp during his days off.”

Jane tried to work out the timing of everything in her head. “When did Gabe give you this postcard?”

“He didn’t. I found it about nineteen months ago.”

Jane realized that was when Harlan had his transplant surgery. “Nineteen months…so, you didn’t see him?”

“No. Jude sold him out in late August of that year and when Gabe got wind of it, he left. He showed up again here the night of September 15th. I found it slipped under my bedroom door in the morning.”

Jane couldn’t believe what she heard. “Wait, you’re saying Gabe broke into your house and left this without anyone knowing he was there?”

He twisted his face into a questioning smirk. “That was the
least
of his talents. You never knew him?”

“No.”

“Oh…wow…okay. Then you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Try me. You’d be shocked what I believe these days.”

He gauged her sincerity before he spoke. “He taught me how to meditate. My parents were okay with it since it was hippie enough to be cool but not creepy enough to be dangerous. And they loved Gabe.”

“So you learned to meditate and then what?”

He resisted answering.


What
?” Jane stressed.

“I moved a spoon on the kitchen table.”

Jane shrugged her shoulders. “So what?”

“With my mind.”

Jane sat back. “Oh. Yeah. That is different.”

“You don’t believe me! See! I should have never—”

“I believe you,” she interjected.

He looked at her closely. “You really do, don’t you?” He thought about it. “You’re not gonna ask me to prove it to you, are you?”

“No. You’re not Barnum, I’m not Bailey and this ain’t a circus.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” She slid her hand into the side pocket of her leather satchel, removing the postcards. Finding the one that matched Sage’s, she held it up to him. “There’s more proof, just in case you need it.”

He nodded.

“So, are you going to show me where this place is?”

“Yeah. But not tonight. Maybe tomorrow? We can take the 4-wheeler up there. Your van will make it if the roads are okay but if we get a rain, probably not.”

“We’re doing this tomorrow, Sage. You say the word and we go.”

He looked around. “I swear to God he’s out there watching us.”

“I know the feeling, kid.”

“No, I really mean it. He’s watching us. I just know.”

Jane sighed. “That’s your third eye working overtime, kiddo.”

He smiled. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Gabe slid something else under the door that night. But I don’t really know what it means.” He reached up to his neck under his t-shirt and pulled a pendant out, strung on a piece of leather. “Any ideas?”

It was a tiny bronze pinecone pendant.

∆ ∆ ∆

After Sage returned to the house, Jane stayed at the van and waited for Harlan. Hours passed and he finally showed up with three covered dishes of food in tow. For twenty minutes, he told Jane about all the stories he heard and how much fun he had.

“And you know what?” he asked her, crawling into the back of the van. “I finally figured out what happened to that Amos boy, Seth.”

“Who?”

“The song? Remember?”

“Ah, right.” Suddenly, Jane felt out of the loop again.

“I feel like I’ve been let out of prison, Jane!”

“I see that.”

“I never met that many folks who wanted to talk to me. I swear this heart is a chick magnet.”

She pulled a blanket out of a bag. “Maybe it’s not your heart, Harlan. Maybe they just like you.”

He considered it. “Nah. It’s him. It’s all him.”

She removed the 9mm from her waistband and locked it in the glove compartment.

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