by Sarah Hualde
LYDIA DIDN’T CALL ETHAN. She was certain her husband was still asleep from their late-night talk. Lydia couldn’t bear waiting for him to wake, eat, and dress before getting down to business. She was desperate to know what was going on and tired of having her own family hide things from her. She refrained from pounding down Charles’ hotel door. She’d texted Harrison and Calvin during her ride in the elevator. Her phone hadn’t sent the messages until she’d arrived at Charles’ room. A quiet tinging announced her brother’s response. She didn’t bother to look at it. If Harrison was concerned, he’d make his way up to Charles’ room before she finished talking with Charles.
Her nephew opened the door. His hair stood on end. “I expected you. But I didn't think you’d arrive so early.” Charles shut the hotel door before taking a seat on the bed.
Lydia didn’t know how to form sentences. She was livid and terrified and more than a little worried. Lydia paced near the open window. The alley between the townhouses and hotel offered a less than pleasant view.
“Did Dad talk to you?” Charles asked.
Lydia threw her hands in the air after tossing her burden of coats on the bed. “No one’s talking to me. It’s very frustrating. But perhaps you can explain this.” Lydia held out Vikki’s ring.
Charles grabbed it and held it gingerly on his palm. He sighed. “It was Mom’s.” Charles’ face dropped in sad weariness. “But Dad gave it to Vikki.”
“Why?” Lydia asked. “Why was it in the pocket of your coat?” She hoped she was on the right track. Lydia wasn’t certain the ring had fallen from Charles’ coat. If not, her nephew would argue his innocence. She desperately wanted him to disagree with her and prove her ideas wrong.
Instead, Charles’ sunk deeper into the mattress. His body went nearly limp from exhaustion and sorrow. “I was glad the police missed it. It would be hard to explain to Dad.”
Lydia pulled the only other seat out from the hotel room desk and sat down. She wished she’d had time for coffee. Her head pounded, and in spite of her excitement, her eyes threatened to shut on her.
“Why don’t you explain it to me?” Lydia asked.
Charles slipped the sapphire ring onto his pinkie finger. He stroked it with fondness. “This ring was promised to me. Mother gave it to me before she died. When I met Alli, Dad said I could give it to her when I proposed. And then in walks Vikki and ruins everything. I cornered her at the party and forced her to give it back to me.”
“How did you manage that? I’m guessing Vikki wasn't the sort to be easily convinced to let go of shiny objects.”
“Worse than a raccoon. All she could see was the next shiny object. I tried to tell him, but Dad just won’t see reason,” Charles echoed with desperation. Lydia wanted to hold him and shelter him from the danger and pain. But this time he brought the hurt upon himself. She couldn’t help him by coddling him.
The hotel room door opened. Ethan walked in with Harrison and Calvin.
Charles jumped. Calvin went to his older brother. “I’ll do the talking Charles,” he said.
“You don't have to do that,” Charles said. “You don’t need to be in the mix-up.”
Calvin swallowed. “It’s my mess. As I started to tell you, Aunt Lydia, I’m the reason Vikki was in our lives.”
Ethan shut the hotel room door and locked it. He took a place beside Lydia and the slightly opened hotel window. He rested a hand on his wife's shoulder.
“You should’ve called me,” he said.
“Sorry,” Lydia offered.
Ethan’s eyes weren’t upset. They were concerned and compassionate. Lydia thanked God for her husband’s deep understanding of her heart. She couldn’t imagine a better partner for herself than Ethan Everett.
She was saddened her brother hadn’t found such a companion. After Pearl died, Vikki had been the first person who had pulled him out of his loner tendencies. And it was costing Harrison his sons.
“Dad,” Calvin said. “I should have talked to you a long time ago. But you were happy, and I didn’t know where to start. Please, forgive me.”
Harrison dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed. He rested a fatherly hand on his son’s knee. “Go ahead, boys, I’m listening.”
IN THE COURTYARD, SCOUT’S voice shook the baby monitor just as Scooby took off for Con Fuego. He turned around the corner of the townhouses and down the back alley, the quickest route to the restaurant. Joan watched him go and watched Ivy, watch him go. She didn’t know what to name the feelings reflecting in Ivy’s eyes, but they were unsettling. The group hadn’t chatted for long, and Joan hadn’t heard any huge disclosures happen between Ivy and Scooby. But they obviously had.
Joan broke the ice. “That guy has been through a lot.”
Ivy smiled at her friend. “You noticed that too?”
“I noticed a lot of things.”
The pair turned toward the rental and walked into a living room filled with noise. Eloise carted Scout out from the back of the house. The teenager had the little girl on her hip and cooed at her, lovingly. Joan and Ivy grinned at Eloise.
“Thanks, Elli,” Ivy said, retrieving Scout. “You’re an amazing sitter.” Eloise beamed and skipped away.
Ivy carried Scout back to the bedroom she and Joan were sharing and laid her on the bed. Joan, having smelled Scout’s need, brought over the diaper bag. She questioned Ivy as Ivy changed her daughter. “So, what is it? What’s his secret? I’m trying to be patient, but I know there’s something going on, and I’d like to know what it is.”
“You’re like your mom that way,” Ivy said. She meant it as a complimentary joke, but Joan didn't think it was funny.
“Would she be able to decipher what was happening out in the courtyard?”
Ivy fastened the fresh diaper onto Scout and kissed the baby’s forehead. “Nothing happened,”
“Yes, it did. You two didn't speak, but something definitely happened.”
Ivy hoisted Scout’s pants back into place and cradled her baby in her arms. “I’ve got to feed Scout,” she said.
“I’ll shut the door,” Joan said as she took action. “But I’m not leaving. I want to know what’s going on.”
Ivy sat on the bed and backed up to the headboard. She propped her arms up with the pillows and positioned Scout for her lunch. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Yes, there is. Or there was. I don't know why you won’t talk to me.”
“I talk to you all the time. You’re one of my best friends,” Ivy disagreed.
“You talk but never about what’s going on inside of you.” Joan frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed near Ivy’s feet. “You get these far off looks on your face, or you whimper in your sleep, but you never really tell me what’s going on.”
A rogue tear drifted from Ivy’s eye and down her cheek. “I don’t know what’s going on. I would tell you if I did, but I don’t.”
Joan’s eyes clouded in sympathy. She didn’t mean to make Ivy cry. Perhaps this vacation weekend wasn’t’ the appropriate time to discuss matters, but Joan’s time on the continent was limited. She would return to Africa in a few more days. It might be the last time, in a long time, that she would see Ivy face to face. Joan didn’t want to leave without clearing the air. Maybe she could help Ivy.
“I have horrible nightmares. Some of them, I can tell, are 100% false. But the rest hide nuggets of truth inside of them. It terrifies me,” Ivy said.
“That’s why you cry?” Joan asked.
Ivy shrugged and brushed Scout’s baby hairs from her face. “I don’t know. But every time I let anyone close, the dreams get worse and more vivid.” Scout wriggled, ready to be set free from her mother’s grasp. Ivy handed her off to Joan and resituated her shirt. “I’ve been keeping a journal. I brought it with me.”
Ivy rushed to her suitcase and dug underneath her clothes. She pulled a leopard print travelers notebook out. In the center journal, she flipped through pages of mind maps, displaying their nonsense to Joan.
“That looks like something Flora would do,” Joan said.
A grin brightened Ivy’s face. “She suggested it.” Ivy sat beside Joan and Scout and displayed the pages. “It looks like a disheveled heap of random facts, I know. But there are some constants. A voice. A shadow. My mom.”
Joan leaned closer and looked down at the page. “What?” Joan traced a purple glitter heart and the names scrawled inside of it.
Ivy’s face flushed pink. “Grant,” she whispered bashfully.
Chapter 23
CALVIN’S ACCOUNT OF the last six months was more than disturbing. Harrison shook with frustration and anger. It was hard for Lydia to tell if he really believed his son’s story. “We met at a coffee shop. I picked somewhere public, thinking it would be more decent. When she arrived she was dressed much younger than in her picture online. She talked a lot younger too. And...”
Charles startled at Calvin’s pause. He knew what was coming and wished he could guard his brother against it. He took over. “Vikki hit on Calvin. More than that. She willed him into a relationship with her.”
Calvin blushed and hid his face in shame. He shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”
Ethan interrupted. “How far did the relationship go?” Calvin shrugged and shoved away tears of disgrace. Harrison glared at his brother in law. “We need to know,” Ethan said. “The police need to know. It's better he gets it out here before he’s questioned by strangers.”
“He’s right, Dad,” Charles said. “Go on Cal. It’s okay.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Calvin said. “We never even kissed. But she led me to believe ... I thought it was me she was interested in. But it was you.”
Charles cleared his throat. “Once she met you, she ditched Calvin and threatened him to keep his mouth shut.”
“You should have told me,” Harrison said.
“How could he, Dad? Once Vikki had your attention, you didn’t have time for anything else. You wouldn’t listen when we both told you that Vikki wasn’t who she said she was. Then she kicked me out of the house. And you did nothing. You wouldn’t listen when I told you I loved Alli. When I asked you for Moms’ ring, you completely ignored me, and then you gave it to Vikki. “
“Vikki said you wanted to leave to make a life for you,“ Harrison argued. “And that I was holding you back.”
“That’s what she told me to say. She said she’d out Calvin to you if I didn't. Then she’d make your life miserable. What was I supposed to do?” Charles struggled to keep his voice level.
“Tell me. Let me be the one to fight for Calvin.” Harrison’s hands balled into fists. “And for you.”
Charles scoffed and flamed. He stood near the window and allowed the air to brush away his hostility before he attempted to talk. “I tried. Over and over again, I tried. Vikki threatened me and Calvin. Then she started verbally abusing Alli when we would come to visit. So we pulled away. I started researching Vikki and found we’re not the first family she’s terrorized. I tried to tell you, and when you wouldn’t listen, I had to protect Alli and Calvin. Who else was going to do it?”
Chapter 24
LYDIA FELT WEAK. SPENT. Overwhelmed and underqualified. Why hadn’t she known how bad things had been for her brother’s family? Ethan sympathized with his wife. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist and led her downstairs to the hotel lobby.
The pink and orange decor reminded Lydia of a donut shop. The thought caused her to long for home. Though Honey Pot was less than an hour from Ashton, it felt much farther to Lydia. She missed her church friends and neighbors. But more than anything, at the moment, she missed Hobo Joe and 3 Alarm Coffee.
She needed a deep think and a long conversation with her friends. 3 Alarm Coffee offered the opportunity for all of those things, plus someone else did the brewing and baking. Her mind was free to chase rabbits, wild geese, and Lord willingly uncover vital clues.
Lydia’s knees buckled. She hadn’t expected murder to hit so close to home. It never occurred to her that her own family might be capable of such a heinous act. She nearly tumbled to the thin lobby carpet. Ethan hooked his hands under her arms and led his bride to a nearby table for two.
“Oh, Ethan,” Lydia said. She felt helpless and stupefied. Ethan scooted his chair closer to hers and gently placed her head on his shoulder.
“I know,” he whispered. “It’s awful.”
“And it makes my boys look awfully guilty,” Lydia said.
Ethan squeezed Lydia closer to him. Her head rested on his clavicle. She could hear his heart thrumming, and the tenor of his voice trembled. “That’s what scares me the most.”
FLORA STIRRED A HUGE pot of noodles over the stovetop. Sweat beaded across her nose. Kat was beside her tossing spices into a batch of ready-made spaghetti sauce as she heated it. Ivy buttered garlic bread and Joan diced tomatoes and scallions. The natives were restless and needed dinner. With the rain taking an elongated pause, husbands and children were cast from the townhouse and sent outside. The absence of noise was replaced by an increase in steam.
“When will Lydia be back?” Ivy asked. She knew it wasn’t the first time she’d posed the question, but she couldn’t remember the answer she’d been given.
Joan puffed a stray hair from her face and replied, “She said she’d be back for lunch. That’s how we lost track of time. And why we are scrounging to make an early dinner.”
Ivy checked the wall clock for the third time. The last five minutes aged her ten years. What was taking Lydia so long? At least, Ethan had been able to text Kat and Flora. He had been with Lydia at the hotel and they were safe. But that was two hours ago. Ivy knew everyone else was worried, too. But she couldn’t sense their worry like she could feel her own panic.
HARRISON CALLED LYDIA while Ethan held her in the lobby. Lydia steadied her voice before she answered. Ethan kissed the top of her head and released her from his embrace. “Sure,” she said. Ethan listened. “Right now. We never left.”
Lydia stood. Ethan rose with her. “Harrison wants to see us,” he guessed.
Lydia nodded. “In his room, now. Can you come?”
“As if you could stop me,” Ethan said. He locked hands with Lydia. His fingers intertwining with hers sent a surge of encouragement through Lydia. Ethan’s presence strengthened her immensely. She thanked God for her husband.
“Yea, though I walk,” she said, in all seriousness.
Ethan smiled. “That’s my girl.” Ethan’s confidence in Lydia dazzled her. She was renewed and reset if not refreshed.
HARRISON’ EYES WERE nearly purple from lack of sleep. The bags hunkered beneath them reminded Lydia of a discarded hiking pack. Her big brother was beaten up and beat down. She had to help him if she could.
“Ethan,” he said, after shutting the door and leading his sister to the best place to sit. “Would you pray over us all before we start talking? I don’t have the words.”
“I’d be glad to,” Ethan said.
His prayer was direct, short, and cut to the quick, just like all his prayers. He didn’t sugarcoat his desperation or hide his greatest needs. Lydia’s heart relaxed with Ethan’s words. Just as they always did, Ethan’s prayers covered her like a bulletproof quilt of protection. She snuggled into his prayer as they dove into the facts.
“Charles is going to the police station with Calvin. They’re telling Ashton PD everything they told you. Charles is explaining why he has Vikki’s ring, which I thought was stolen. We’re hoping they believe him and Cal. But who knows. It’s not hard to make the leap to a motive.” This disclosure visibly exhausted Harrison.
Ethan didn’t say anything. Lydia knew he’d made that jump quite a while ago. It was the cop in Ethan. He saw motive everywhere, even in those he loved. It was a burden he carried. The fact that he chose to trust God, let alone the rare person, was a wonder to Lydia and a testament to Ethan’s ever-growing faith.
Harrison continued, “You don’t have to deny
it. Those are my boys. My greatest treasures. And I thought the same thing. Though who could blame them? If Calvin did it then Vikki drove him mad. If Charles did it, it was to defend me and his brother.”
Lydia choked down emotion and stared into his brother’s face. “What if the police don’t think either one of them did it? What if they believe you did?”
Ethan hadn’t thought of that. Nor had Harrison. Both looked at Lydia in hurt astonishment.
“Are you saying I should take the blame for them?” Harrison almost looked pleased with the idea. “Because if you can find a way for me to do that, I will.”
Lydia immediately shut down his train of thought. “No way! That’s not what I’m saying. I’m merely wondering if you were as clueless as you’re pretending to be. Or, at least, I’m wondering if the police will think that. Did you really not know that Calvin had been led on by Vikki?”
“Or that Calvin trolled dating sites for you,” Ethan added.
Harrison stammered. “The boys were always teasing about signing me up for one of those sites. I didn’t believe they’d actually do it.”
“Why do you think Calvin did?” Lydia asked.
Harrison shrugged, at first. Then he plopped onto the bed, much like Charles had done and sighed. “Because Charles was leaving. He and Alli were getting married. Maybe not immediately. I don’t think they’d made it official yet. They hadn’t set a date, but it was coming. We all saw it. And Calvin, he’s graduating this year. His dream was to go to work with Joan. Did you know that?” Lydia shook her head. “They’ve been writing about it since she left. This year Calvin’s talked about nothing else. He stopped submitting college applications and talking about careers. He’s only talked about Joan. And then, Vikki. It explains why he’s been so distracted. This last summer was horrible for him. I guess that’s when he met her.”
Lydia shuddered. Vikki Winters must have been a decent actress. She fooled Calvin and Harrison. But Charles had seen right through her. “Why’d he just let her go? If he cared that much about her, why didn’t he fight to keep her? Why did he sit there and watch Vikki date you?”
