Chapter 41
A.J. spent Saturday morning at the
Simon and Simon office, then headed for home at noon. He let Toby out when he got there. A.J. didn't have Rex staying at his home as he assumed he
might. Rick had made no mention of the
dog, so had evidently left the golden retriever with his neighbor,
Clarissa.
A.J. looked through his mail while waiting by the door for
Toby. Another letter had arrived
addressed to Shane. That made the third one since the boy no longer spent time
in the house on the Grand Canal. A.J.
chastised himself and made a vow he'd get the letters to Shane sometime during
the next week. Not that he expected the
nine-year- old would be willing to see him.
He remembered all too well what he'd said to the boy that night of
Shane's visit. No longer did either
Shane or Tanner leave messages on A.J.’s answering machine.
The blond man pushed thoughts of his
former stepsons aside. He had loved those boys so much. He still did love them. Losing contact with them was almost as hard
as losing Lauren. But A.J. knew he'd
created the rift between them and himself, and he could honestly say he didn't
care to mend it. Seeing them would be
too hard. They reminded him too much of
their mother.
A.J. let Toby back in, while at the
same time deciding he'd drop Shane's mail in a bigger envelope, put Rob
Albright's address on it, and mail it from his local post office. That task would have to wait until Monday,
however, when A.J. returned to the office where he kept legal sized manila
envelopes.
The blond man played the messages on
his answering machine. He wasn't
surprised to discover that Town, Jerry, Lindy, his cousin Kevin Simon, Mac and
Annette McAllister, and an old college buddy had issued a vast array of
invitations covering the next four days.
No doubt Rick had gotten the word out A.J. was going to be alone for a
few days. A.J. wanted to be mad at his
brother, but he knew this ‘babysitting service’ Rick had set up was simply to
give the eldest Simon peace of mind regarding A.J. being left by himself for
the first time since Lauren's death.
The detective made no effort to
return any calls right now. Maybe later
in the afternoon he'd take someone up on his or her invitation, but he had no
desire to make a commitment at this moment.
He planned to paint his spare room and didn't want to have to stop
before he was ready.
A.J. went out to the garage and
grabbed off the shelf a brand new can of paint labeled Oyster Shell, which Rick
would have said was a fancy name for beige.
He picked up a brush and a can of solvent that would dissolve the paste
that held the wallpaper in place. He
retrieved a stack of newspapers to use as drop cloths then headed up the
stairs. He set his burdens in front of
the closed door of the nursery and then turned for his room. He dug through the stacks of clothes
scattered from the doorway to the master bath.
He plucked up a pair of paint stained Levis and an old T-shirt, and
exchanged them with the jeans and T-shirt he was wearing. Without allowing himself to think about his
destination, or what he was going to do when he got there, A.J. walked down the
hall.
The detective paused for a long
moment with his hand on the nursery's doorknob. When he finally stepped inside the room the smiling horses
brought all his pain and misery back in a way he hadn't felt it for several
weeks now. He couldn't bear the thought
of taking down that wallpaper, any more than he could bear the thought of
covering up the pale peach walls.
Lauren had picked out the decor for this room. She had designed it for their baby. To change it all was like burying his wife and child for a second
time.
A.J. swiped at the tears running
down his face. He turned and fled the
room, tripping over the paint can he had setting in the hall. He scrambled to his feet and kept on
going. He knew his liquor cabinet was
almost empty. He hadn't gone on a
drinking binge in almost three weeks.
That was all about to change, though, as he gunned the Grand Am's engine
and tore out into the street.
______________________________________
The detective returned home an hour
later. He carried two brown grocery
bags, one full of whiskey and bourbon, the other full of beer. He fumbled for his key and inserted it in
the lock on the knob. He didn't need to
use his other key for the deadbolt.
He'd never thrown it when he'd fled the house.
A.J. took one step into his kitchen
and stopped in his tracks.
"Tanner...what the..." The
blond man kicked the door closed and then moved to the table and dropped the
bags. "What are you doing
here? How'd you get in?"
Tanner, who would turn seven two
days before Thanksgiving and was in the second grade now, stood on the bottom
step of the step-stool he'd pulled over in front of the sink. He had one of his mother's aprons wrapped
three times around his skinny waist.
Warm water was running in the kitchen sink, and the door to the
dishwasher was open. Toby looked up
from where he sat on the floor beside the step-stool.
"Tanner?"
"Hi, A.J. I'm cleaning." The boy, with arms sunk elbow deep in sudsy
water, looked around and with his usual blunt honesty declared, "Man, this place is sure a mess."
"Yes, well...I've been busy
lately."
A.J. walked over and lifted the boy
off the stool. He untied the apron and
laid it on the counter. He shut the
water off at the sink, shut the door on the dishwasher and grabbed a
towel. "Here. Dry your hands and arms."
The redhead did as he was instructed,
then handed the towel back to A.J.
"Now I repeat, how'd you get in
here?"
Tanner reached into his back pocket
and pulled out an Old Maid card.
"With this. Rick taught me
how a long time ago."
A.J. raised an eyebrow. "Oh, Rick taught you how, did he?"
"Yep. It was a good thing you didn't have the deadbolt thrown,
otherwise I'da been outta luck."
"I see."
"Don't be mad at Rick,
A.J. He said it was only for
emergencies. I waited and waited and
waited for you outside the door, but then I had to go to the bathroom real bad
so I figured that was an emergency."
"Yes, I can see where that
would be an emergency."
Tanner put the card back in his
pocket while A.J. guided him to the living room sofa, Toby at their heels. The boy scooped up jeans and shirts so he
could make a place for himself and A.J. to sit. "Geez, A.J., you must be really busy. You would have never let me and Shane leave
our junk laying around like this."
"You're right. I wouldn't have." A.J. tossed the
clothes into the easy chair. He sat
down on the couch and lifted Tanner to his lap. "I suppose I should clean this place up, huh?"
"Yeah. It looks like a pig sty.
And I don't even know what a pig sty is."
A.J. laughed at the child who could always
tickle his funny bone. Within seconds
he sobered and spoke sternly. "Now
how did you get here? I hope you're not
going to tell me you rode your bike."
"Nah. Shane got in a lotta trouble when he did that. Erin brought me. She's got her own car now that she goes to college."
"Erin brought you? Where is she then?"
"She has a girlfriend who lives
a few blocks from here." Tanner
pointed out the French doors.
"Over that way, I think. Anyway,
I asked her to bring me here, so she dropped me off. She's gonna pick me up in a little while."
"Tanner, that's dangerous. What if I hadn't come home? Did Erin know I wasn't here?"
"No. I told her I'd called you and you said I could come over. She's in charge of me and Shane this weekend
'cause Mom and Da...I mean Kathy and Dad, went out of town. But Shane got invited to a birthday
sleepover, so it was just me and Erin.
I wanted to see you, A.J., so I told her you invited me to come
here."
"You shouldn't have lied to
Erin like that. Both of you could get
in trouble over it."
"Aw, A.J. It's like Rick always says. You worry too much."
Again A.J. was forced to laugh at
the boy. When he spoke it was to ask
quietly, "So how are things going?"
"Okay, I guess. I really miss my mom though."
A.J. ran a hand through Tanner's
hair. "I know, buddy, because I
really miss your mom, too."
"I wish we could come back
here, A.J. To your house like we used
to, I mean. You know, live here every
other week." The boy's eyes roamed
the interior of the familiar rooms.
"Even though me and Shane had to share a room, and even though you
didn't let us watch as much TV as our dad lets us watch, I really liked it
here. We had a lot of fun, didn't
we?"
A.J. swallowed his tears. "Yes, Tanner, we did."
"Remember all the bike rides we
used to take through the park? And
remember the time you chased my mom with the hose and sprayed her when we were
washing the cars? Then later she snuck
up behind you and dumped a bucket of cold water over your head. That was a riot. And remember when you were reading to me and Shane that night
when we were all sitting on Shane's bunk?
The three of us fell asleep and you rolled out. Mom came running when she heard a big
thud. When we all knew you were okay we
laughed and laughed and laughed, and then you pretended to be mad at me the
next day when I told Rick about it. And
there was that one weekend when Mom had to go away because of her job. You and Rick took me and Shane out on Rick's
boat. That was the bestest fishing trip
I was ever on. And we went to the zoo,
and Sea World, and Disney Land, and swimming, lots of times we went
swimming. And you always read to us. Every single night. My dad never does that. I've been wondering for weeks now how The
Hobbit ends. Then that day of your birthday party Mom left work early and
picked me and Shane up from school so we could get the food and decorate the
house. I'm glad we did that, A.J., you
know why?"
"No, sport. Why?"
Tanner laid his head against A.J.'s
chest. "Because it was the last
day we had here with you and my mom. I
think about it a lot. I'm happy we had
that day. And when Mom looks down from
Heaven, I know she's happy we had it, too."
A.J.'s voice was soft and
husky. "I'm happy we had it as well,
Tanner. I'm very happy we had it."
A.J. cleared his throat and changed
the subject to one he hoped wouldn't make him burst into tears in front of the
boy. "Are you still going to
karate?"
"Yeah." Tanner lifted his head. "My dad is
taking me."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"It's fun. But I miss you taking me. That was something we did together. Just you and me."
"I know. I miss it, too. What else have you been up to?"
"Me and Shane see Angie every
Thursday after school."
"Angie?"
"Yeah. She's a real nice lady who's got this huge
playroom with all kinds a' toys. Every
toy you could think of. We go see her,
and draw pictures for her, and talk to her about Mom. Or at least I talk to her about Mom. Shane won't."
It was then that A.J. understood
Angie was a counselor who most likely specialized in the area of pediatric
grief.
"Maybe Shane's just not ready
to talk about your mom yet. Those kinds
of things can be harder for some people than they are for others."
"I know. That's what Mom...Kathy says. And that's another thing, A.J. Shane gets really mad at me when I call
Kathy, Mom. I don't do it on purpose,
but sometimes I forget. Do you think my
mom,.....my real mom, would be mad about that?"
"No, Tanner, I don't think your
mother would be mad about that. As a
matter of fact, I know she wouldn't.
She loved you very, very much.
If calling Kathy, Mom, makes you happy, then it would make your mother
happy, too."
"She only works some of the
time now, you know."
"Who only works some of the
time?"
"Kathy. She stays home more so she can be there when
Shane and me get out of
school. We don't go to after-school club now."
A.J. knew Kathy had been a dental
hygienist for years. If he understood Tanner
correctly, she'd cut her hours back at work in an effort to devote more time to
the boys. He was glad. Such an act would have pleased Lauren, and
he was certain it had only benefited the boys further since their mother's
death.
Silence filled the room for a few
seconds as Tanner busied himself studying A.J. from head to toe.
"Shane says your nothin' but an
old drunk now, A.J. But you don't look
like an old drunk to me. He said you
were too busy gettin' shnockered to look for the man who hurt our mom. But I called him a liar and I punched him a
good one, too."
"Tanner," A.J.
scolded, "you know your mom didn't
allow you boys to hit one another."
"I know. But Shane deserved it for sayin' those
things about you. That's why I came
here today. I had to see for
myself. And now I'm going to go back
home and tell Shane you are looking for the man who hurt Mommy. I'm gonna tell Shane you’ve been so busy
looking for him that you haven't had time to do the dishes, or pick up your
clothes, or shave, or get a hair cut.
I've seen it with my own two eyes so I know it's the truth."
How A.J. wished the truth could
always be as clear as when seen through the bright eyes of a six and a half
year old.
Tanner slid from A.J.'s lap. He crouched down and ran a tender hand over
Toby's coat. "I miss Toby. He loves me a lot, and I love him a lot,
too."
A.J. watched while the basset hound
hungrily lapped up the attention he was getting. Admittedly, his master had barely noticed his existence over the
past two and a half months.
"Toby misses you as well,
Tanner." A.J. thought a moment
then offered, "Would you like to
take him home with you?"
The boy looked up, eyes wide with
wonder. "Really? Could I?"
"I don't see why not. I've been too...busy lately to give Toby the
time and attention he needs. I know
you'll make sure he gets exercised every day, and is well taken care of."
"Oh I will, A.J. I promise I will."
"Do you think your dad and
Kathy will let you have him?"
"Yeah, I think so. Kathy loves dogs. She told me so once. And
when she first married my dad she had a beagle named Jake. But he died from old age. She was really sad for a long time. My dad was going to buy her another dog, but
she said she didn't have time for one since she was working. But now she doesn't work half as much as she
used to, and basset hounds look almost like beagles, so I bet she'll fall in
love with Toby the second I show him to her."
A.J. rose from the couch to retrieve
two grocery bags from a kitchen drawer.
Toby's toys went in one while his food, treats, and bowls went in the
other. "Now if you get him home
and Kathy or your dad say you can't keep him, you call me. I'll come get him right away."
"Okay. But I know they'll let me have him."
A car horn beeped from the
driveway. Tanner scrambled to his
feet. "That's Erin. I'm not supposed to keep her waiting."
A.J. bent and attached the leash to
Toby's collar. "Here, you take
Toby and I'll carry the bags."
The detective followed Tanner and
Toby out the kitchen door. If Toby was
as big a hit with Rob and Kathy as he was with Erin then A.J. knew the dog
would be welcome in their home. He
jumped right in Erin's purple Plymouth Neon and washed her face with his tongue
while Tanner and A.J. said their goodbyes.
The blond man deposited Toby's bags in the back of Erin's car, then bent
to hug his little visitor.
"Thanks for stopping by today,
buddy. You made me feel very good. Better than I've felt in a long, long
time."
Tanner stepped out of A.J.'s
embrace. "I'll come back in a
couple of weeks. You know, to see how
things are goin' on my mom's case and all."
A.J. smiled. "You do that. Only next time, call first.
I don't want to come home and find you've broken into my house
again."
"Aw, A.J., you sure know how to
take a guy's fun away."
The blond man laughed, planted a
kiss on the boy's head, then helped him get situated on the seat next to
Erin. A.J. snapped Tanner's seat belt
in place and closed the door. He waved
to Erin and Tanner as the car backed out of the drive. Toby sat between them with what A.J. swore
was a smile on his face, his tail wagging so hard that both Erin and Tanner
were giggling.
It wasn't until Erin's car
disappeared around the corner that A.J. remembered Shane's letters.
Oh well, I'll just mail them on
Monday like I had originally planned.
_____________________________________
It was strange how seeing the world
through the eyes of a child could force you to take a good long look at the way
you'd been conducting your life. For no
reason A.J. Simon could explain, he felt the need to clean his house that
afternoon. The first time such a need
had struck him since the day Lauren died.
It took him three hours to get the
downstairs in immaculate order. Clothes
were sorted and thrown in the washing machine while three loads of dishes
cycled through the dishwasher. The dust
rag traveled over every shelf and piece of furniture, then the vacuum cleaner
navigated the area. When A.J. made his
way upstairs he gathered his paint, brushes, wallpaper solvent, and newspapers,
then carried them back to the garage.
Rick had been right. Painting
what was to have been the nursery was not a job he should do alone. He knew he'd cry when the day came that he
finally brought himself to convert that little room back into his home office,
but maybe it was better if those tears were shed when he could draw from his older
brother's strength.
A.J. never opened the door to the
nursery as he went about cleaning the upper story. It took him fifteen minutes to pick up all the clothes he had
strewn around his bedroom, and another hour to clean the master bathroom, which
was in atrocious condition. The rest of
the rooms upstairs, the second bathroom and the room Shane and Tanner had
shared, were spotless by virtue of the fact A.J. hadn't been in them in
weeks. Nonetheless, he ran the vacuum
throughout the upstairs, though again, he didn't go in the peach colored room
at the end of the hall.
As much as A.J. wanted to reach for
a cold beer when his work was done, he resisted the urge. He knew if he started drinking he'd find
plenty of reasons to never stop. He thought
about calling his cousins, Kevin and Lindy, and seeing if they wanted to go out
for dinner, but decided against it.
Kevin had a wife and three teenagers. It was already six o'clock. The
man had probably made plans for the evening by now. He considered calling Mac and Annette, but didn't think he could
face Lauren's family. It had been hard
enough seeing Tanner today. He'd seen
so much of the woman he loved in that little red headed boy. He knew he'd see the same reminders of
Lauren when he sat across a table from her red headed father and out-going
mother. For now it was okay to say he'd
had enough for one day. It was okay to
be alone and sober.
Being both alone and sober was new
for the detective. He dug around in the
refrigerator until he found a casserole his mother had left. He knew he had to start heeding her advice
and eating better. Even the high
calorie alcohol he'd been guzzling lately wasn't able to keep the pounds on
him. His pants barely stayed up. If he lost any more weight he'd have to drop
another waist size, which he'd done twice already since his wife and child
died.
The blond man warmed his supper in
the microwave. He ate at the kitchen
table while reading the Saturday paper.
He put the last load of dishes away, then placed his plate and
silverware in the dishwasher. He closed
the lid, but didn't start it cycling.
That could wait a few days until he had a full load.
A.J. crossed back to the fridge and
opened it. His fingers danced over
amber beer bottles, but he didn't allow himself to grab one. He wanted one. He wanted one so damn bad now that it was dark outside. For some reason his heartache and loneliness
was all the more acute after the sun set.
The blond man finally reached for a
Coke. He had no idea why he was trying
so hard to stay sober when all he wanted to do was get drunk. But he had this odd feeling of
urgency. As though there was something
he just had to accomplish yet tonight.
The detective went out to the garage
where he transferred a load of wet clothes to the dryer and put the last load
of dirty clothes in the washer. He
drained his Coke can and threw it in the garbage. He wandered back into the house and up the stairs. He contemplated calling Downtown Brown. Temple would be doing the late news, meaning
Town was on his own as he was most nights.
Maybe the black man would want to catch a movie. Or maybe A.J. could just go over to Town's
and sit out on his patio and shoot the bull for a while.
A.J. headed to the master bedroom to
call his friend. He paused as he passed
the room that had belonged to his stepsons.
Everything from their games, to their toys, to their computer, to
Tanner's hobbit, to Shane's beanie babies, was still in residence. The detective was surprised these items
hadn't been packed up the day Lauren's and the baby's things had
disappeared. A.J. had been too
grief-stricken before now to give it much thought. He supposed there hadn't been room in any of the vehicles to take
the boys' paraphernalia along. Maybe
the McAllisters had planned to come back at a later date and just hadn't gotten
around to it, or maybe Rob Albright was to set up a date with A.J. in order to
collect his sons' things. Overall, A.J.
supposed it didn't make much difference.
Just about anything Shane and Tanner had at his home they had at their
father's, including a computer.
The blond walked over to the closet
and opened it. The boys' clothes and
shoes were gone, which meant Mac and Annette had taken those items with them
the day they were here. A quick look in
the bureau drawers found them empty as well.
A.J. sighed and walked over to the
homework station. He pulled out a chair
and sat down. Tears stung his eyes at
the thought of what had to be done. He
needed to pack the remainder of the boys' things, borrow Rick's Durango, and
deliver them to Rob's house. Then he
needed to advertise the furniture and sell it, just like he needed to advertise
the baby furniture, and boxes and boxes of baby clothes and paraphernalia that
were being stored in a bay of Lisa and Jeff's three car garage. Lisa had called him two days after she, her
parents, and Cecilia, had cleaned out the nursery. She told A.J. she and Jeff could store the baby's things as long
as he wanted them, too, but when he was ready to sell them he should call her. She'd be happy to handle that end of things
for him so he didn't have to deal with it.
A.J. had been too drunk that night
to care what Lisa was calling about, or to give her permission to handle much
of anything for him. But now he knew it
had to be done. It wasn't fair to
expect her and Jeff to take up room in their garage on account of a dead
child. Just like it wasn't fair of him
to keep things in this room that belonged to Shane and Tanner, as though some
day they were going to return to their toys, and books, and games, and
computer.
The detective's eyes fell on The
Hobbit, where it still sat on the nightstand. He'd give it to Tanner.
The boy had said Rob never read to him, but maybe Kathy would. It was important to A.J. to be assured
Tanner would get the opportunity to hear the end of that story.
A.J. squeezed his eyes shut, trying
to block out the happy memories this room evoked. His heart hurt so bad that he couldn't stand it, and he felt
tears well under his lids. He thought
of how many nights he'd sat in his house since Lauren's death with a loaded gun
in his lap. If Rick or his mother knew
that they'd have him committed to a mental health center in two seconds flat. The only reason he was still alive today was
because always before he'd been too damn drunk to pull the trigger. Well, he wasn't drunk tonight, and being
stone cold sober made death sound even more appealing. There was nothing for him to live for. No one who really needed him. Oh, sure, Rick would tell A.J. he needed
him, but in truth Rick was strong.
Always so strong. He'd mourn his
little brother, but he'd go on with his life.
A.J. would leave Rick a note so Rick was assured there was nothing he
could have done to prevent the choice A.J. made. He'd tell Rick he loved him, and that he was the best big brother
a man could have had. He'd leave his
mother a note, too. He'd also tell her
how much he loved her, and what a terrific mom she'd been. He hoped that would make her feel
better. Then he'd go to an isolated
stretch of beach and take his life. He
didn't want his family to find him with his head half blown off. He hated to put such a burden on an innocent
stranger, but better that person than Rick.
Or maybe he'd call Town before he left the house. He knew on most evenings that Temple did the
late news Town picked her up from work and the two of them stopped for a bite
to eat. If A.J. timed it right, Town
would be gone and he'd get the answering machine. He'd tell Town what his intentions were and where to find his
body. He supposed doing that to his old
friend wasn't fair, but Town had seen a lot of grisly sights in his day. One
way or another, he'd get past being the person who had to call Jerry to come
get A.J.'s body.
But before he wrote any notes, or
loaded his gun, or called Town's house, or left for the beach, he'd pack up the
boys' room. The rest of the house was
neat and clean now, and Toby was with his new family, so once this room was
taken care of A.J. wasn't leaving behind any unfinished business.
The detective trotted down to the
garage as though it was any other Saturday night, and not the Saturday night on
which he'd decided to kill himself. He
folded the load of laundry that he pulled out of the dryer as if he was going to
be wearing these shirts and socks come tomorrow morning. He took the load of jeans out of the washer
and deposited them in the dryer. He
set the timer for forty minutes, figuring that was just about how long it would
take him to pack the boys' stuff in boxes.
The blond man carried two cardboard
boxes under one arm and the laundry basket under the other. He felt surprisingly light-hearted as he
entered his room to put his clothes away. He pushed Lauren's face from his mind. She seemed to be scolding him for what he
planned to do before the night ended.
A.J. didn't want her to scold him. He wanted her to welcome him just
like that poem said that Lisa had read at the funeral. He wanted Lauren to greet him with a smile
and say, "Welcome home." He wanted
her to take him in her arms and introduce him to their baby.
When A.J. put the last shirt away he
veered for the bathroom where he shaved.
Short of cutting his hair himself, there wasn't much he could do about
his thick, shaggy locks, so decided he'd have to go to his grave looking as
though he'd never left the decade of the sixties behind.
He reentered his bedroom, picked up
the boxes, and strolled down the hall to the boys' room. It didn't take him long to pack the games
and books. The toys that were on the
shelves were more time consuming to stow because of their varying sizes and
awkward shapes. The remainder of the
toys he left in the toy chest. It could
be carried out of the house by its handles, just like he and Rick had carried
it in.
A.J. reached into the tall cabinet
along side the homework station and pulled out coloring books and school
folders. The bundle slipped from his
hands and landed on the floor.
Envelopes slid out of a bright white folder that had red stop signs all
over it. When A.J. picked the envelopes
up he noticed the same postmark and child’s handwriting as were on the
envelopes piled on the kitchen counter addressed to Shane.
The detective wouldn't have read the
letters that night that those envelopes contained if he hadn't, for the first
time, realized the postmark was from the island where he and Lauren had
honeymooned. He recalled now, his wife
telling him about a school assignment Shane had been given the previous fall in
which he and his classmates were corresponding with students who lived on an
island in the South Pacific. A.J.
didn't remember Lauren mentioning it was the same island they'd visited on
their wedding trip, but then, maybe she'd never known that fact.
A.J. looked at the dates on the postmarks
and began pulling the letters out of the envelopes in chronological order. He sat back down in the chair and read out
loud, "Dear Shane. My name is
Troya and I live on an island that my daddy and Grandpa practically own."
A.J. paused for a moment. He'd never heard of any one else named Troya
other than Troya Yeager. He pondered
that a moment, but realized there were surely a number of little girls and
women around the world who bore such a moniker. He continued reading.
"I am seven years old. I'll
be eight on November third. My mommy's
name is Hillary, and my daddy's name is Troy."
Ah, A.J. thought. The
reason behind Troya.
"We have a maid named Aziah,
and we love her a lot. I have a little
sister named Tiffany. She is five and
just started first grade. There is no
kindergarten on our island, so kids can start the first grade when they're
five. We don't have a high school
either, but my daddy says he's going to build one before I'm old enough to
go. Oh, I have a brother, too. He's my favorite one in the whole entire
family. He's two, and his name is
Brooks. Sincerely, Troya Aubrey
Andrews."
A.J.'s eyes read over the girl's
closing line one last time, then darted up to the prior sentence. "He's two and a half and his name is Brooks. Sincerely, Troya Aubrey Andrews."
The blond man swallowed hard. "No.
No it can't be."
Troya Aubrey, as in Troya Aubrey
Yeager? And Brooks. As in Tad Brooks?
A.J.'s hands flew to the next letter. The child told more about her island culture and evidently
answered questions Shane had asked of her.
Again she mentioned the brother named Brooks. Three more letters followed in the same vein until A.J. ran
across the one he was looking for. He remembered Shane asking him a question
back in early July about the witness protection program.
"Dear Shane. My father is an even bigger hero than your
stepfather. So big that he's in
something the FBI has called the witness protection club. A long time ago he saw two mean brothers kill
a beautiful lady. She was very
pretty. I think maybe my daddy was in
love with her."
"Oh God," A.J. muttered
with disbelief. "Oh God no. But how can this be? He's dead.
He died that night ten years ago."
But the detective was well aware no
one knew for certain if Tad Brooks had died the night he'd fled by diving over
the side of The Aubrey. Could he
have somehow lived through that terrible storm? A.J. knew it was a possibility.
Especially if he'd had a boat waiting for him somewhere in the darkness.
A.J. clawed for the next
letter. In this one Troya told Shane
that her brother Brooks was very sick and that her parents were fighting a
lot. The blond man's heart stopped for
a moment when he read the next paragraph.
"I helped my Daddy send an e-mail
to his Uncle Sam today in San Diego. I
didn't know Daddy had an Uncle Sam. He
never talks about his family. I'll try
to find out Uncle Sam's last name.
Maybe you know him. I think
Uncle Sam is going to help Brooks."
A.J. didn't even need to think about
whom he knew who used Uncle Sam as their e-mail address. It had been Cord Franklin. Somehow Franklin and Tad Brooks were
acquainted. And if they were
acquainted, and Cord had mentioned Rick's name, well then that might just explain
who had really been behind Lauren's death.
Poker-hot fury lashed the blond
man's soul. "I'll kill the
son-of-a-bitch," he vowed.
"I'll kill him."
A.J.'s hands grabbed little Troya's
next letter. In this one the child's
pain was profound as she told Shane that her brother Brooks had died, and that
her mother had a break down and went with her maternal grandparents to the
Hamptons.
A.J. Simon was no fool. He knew he'd just read Tad Brooks' motive
for revenge. The man had lost his son
because he'd been forced to live in exile on a remote island where medical care
was undoubtedly elementary at best. The
man who now called himself Troy Andrews, wanted to take from A.J. Simon what
had been taken from him.
A.J.'s eyes scanned the next letter
in the pile. In this one Troya talked
of the baby shower A.J.'s family had thrown Lauren, and tells Shane she'd never
seen fireworks except on television.
She says her parents are divorcing, but no other information came forth
that was useful to A.J. The detective
pawed through the rest of Shane's school papers, but there were no other
letters from Troya. He jumped up and ran for the stairs. He flew down the steps, he feet landing on
only three before he was in the den.
The blond man raced to the kitchen. He tore the oldest letter open. This was like reading a best-selling mystery
that was so intriguing you couldn't wait to get to the next chapter. Nonetheless, A.J. wasn't expecting to
uncover what he did. He barely made it
around the counter before he sank to a bar stool in utter shock and disbelief.
Dear Shane,
I have a new brother.
Daddy says we adopted him. He
has white hair and big blue eyes and came to live with us when he was only one
day old. Daddy says his birthday is
July 26th. He kind of looks like Brooks
did when he was a newborn baby. Me and
Tiffany already love him a hole lot.
Has your mommy had her baby yet?
Love,
Your friend
Troya
P.S. Our new baby's name is Tad.
"No," A.J. muttered. "It can't be. I...how...how could he...how?"
A.J. ripped open the next letter and read as fast as he could.
"Dear Shane. Things
are very confusing. For a few days back in July a lady named Allison was
staying here. She said she wanted to be
my mommy but then Daddy got mad at her and sent her away. I was glad.
I didn't like her. She tried too
hard to be nice. She was very phony if
you ask me. Now there's another lady
living in our house that my daddy is making us call Mommy. Only she's not my
mommy either. Her name is Spencer. That's another thing that confuses me. Daddy calls her Spencer, but some boy named
Logan came to our beach the other day and called her Casey. Don't you think that's weird? Why would someone go by two different
names? I never saw that boy Logan
before, but he sure was mad at Spencer, or Casey, or whatever her name is. This
seems like a mystery. Maybe you can ask
your stepfather about it. You said he's
good at solving mysteries."
A.J. skimmed over the rest of the
letter until he got to Troya's postscript.
"Baby Tad cries a lot. I
don't think he likes us."
The detective's mind was
reeling. First Cord Franklin, then
Allison Baker, and now Casey. How the
hell did all these people tie into Tad Brooks, and who was it that set A.J. and
Lauren up? The blond man knew any
answers he might yet glean would come in Troya's last letter. He read past the little girl's talk of the
hurricane season, but paid more attention when she spoke of how cute her little
brother was. When he came to a
paragraph of interest he read out loud.
"That lady Spencer is
gone. Daddy kicked her out of the
house. And I mean that. He kicked her right in her butt. I saw him do it. I'm glad she's gone, but I felt sorry for her when Daddy did that
to her. She was naked, Shane. It was a strange night. Now it's just me, and Tiffany, and Tad, and
Daddy, and Aziah. I like it better this
way, but I wish mommy were here, too."
A.J. skipped past the section where
Troya spoke of her birthday. His
interest was piqued again when he read her last line. "I'm sending you a picture of Tad. That's me holding him."
The detective scrounged for the
envelope he'd tossed aside. He barely
paid attention to the pretty little girl in the picture. Instead, his eyes focused on the baby in her
arms.
"Oh Lord. Oh my Lord." A.J. ran for the closet in the living room. He knew his baby book was on the top shelf
somewhere. His mother had given it to
him when they'd found out Lauren was pregnant.
A.J. sunk to a nearby chair and
flipped through the heavy pages that had yellowed with age. He knew exactly what picture he was looking
for. In this one it was a five-year-
old big brother holding a two-month-old infant. When A.J. found it he laid the pictures side by side. The babies, though born exactly forty-nine
years apart, could have been identical twins.
"That bastard," A.J.
muttered. "I don't know how, but
that bastard has my son. I have a son
and Tad Brooks has him."
The detective tossed the book aside and
dashed for the stairs. He had a lot to
do before he climbed on a plane that would take to the island where a man who
called himself Troy Andrews was hiding out.
All thoughts of suicide left A.J.
Simon as he threw clothes and toiletries in a zippered sports bag. He had a son, and the little boy needed
him.
Chapter 42
Rick carried Nancy's suitcase into
her home. While she opened windows to
let fresh air in he used her phone.
When he got nothing but the answering machine at A.J.'s house he tried
the office. The answering machine
picked up there as well. The detective
disconnected the call without leaving a message.
Nancy walked into the kitchen as
Rick was hanging up.
"Did you get a hold of
him?"
"No. Still no answer either place."
"Hon, don't get so
upset." She ran her hands over the
knotted muscles in Rick's back.
"I'm sure A.J.'s just involved with a case. You know how he's been since Lauren passed
away. How many hours he's been putting
in and such."
"Yeah, I know how he's
been," Rick said while staring out the window into Nancy's small back
yard. "And that's what worries
me."
Rick refused Nancy's offer of
supper, gave her a kiss, and promised to call her later. He let himself out of her house and hurried
to his vehicle.
It was Monday evening. Rick hadn't been due back from Las Vegas for
another twenty-four hours, but when phone calls placed to A.J.'s home and the
office had gone unanswered throughout Saturday night, Sunday, and early this
morning, Rick had grown increasingly worried.
He kept telling himself exactly what Nancy had just voiced, that A.J.
had probably gotten tied up on a case.
But that was no excuse for A.J.'s lack of contact as far as Rick was
concerned. He'd left the phone number
of his hotel each time he'd called.
He'd told A.J. to leave a message with the desk clerk if the phone in
Rick and Nancy's room went unanswered.
But each time Rick checked at the desk he was told no one had called for
him. And each time he tried to reach
A.J. he got answering machines.
Rick pulled out of Nancy's driveway
and was soon navigating through congested rush hour traffic. He'd head to the office first. It was almost
six o'clock. If A.J. were true to the
habits he'd begun since Lauren's death he'd be there yet hard at work. The detective made a mental note to treat
his lady and the Escobars to dinner next weekend. When he'd made the decision to end his vacation earlier than
planned he offered to leave the Durango behind and rent a car in order to make
the trip home. Nancy, Carlos, and Eva
wouldn't allow him to do that, all three insisting they understood his concerns
over not being able to reach A.J. In
thirty minutes time they were ready to depart, not one word of complaint over
the vacation being cut short was voiced on the long drive home.