Ashes

by Aleatha Romig

  “I didn’t know you were planning on going to another tournament next weekend.”

  My stomach dropped as I stepped down from the stool at the kitchen bar and walked toward Ruby. “I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

  “We can’t stay locked up in here forever.” She tilted her chin toward the windows. “It’s clear now, but the forecast is for more snow. Can I go with you to New Orleans?”

  “No,” I said out of habit. “You’ve never gone with me. You know Andros…” I let out a long breath and sat in the theater seat beside my daughter. “I’m sorry. It will take me some time to not think about Andros’s response.”

  “Worry about it, you mean?”

  I forced my lips to curl into a grin. “None of it matters now.”

  “Did you and Patrick work things…? I mean, is this real? It seems rushed. And I think it would be best for me to go back to school. I don’t mind the break, but honestly, it’s kind of boring here.”

  Settling against the sofa, I wrapped my arms around my midsection. “I know it’s hard to understand, but boring is the best possible scenario.”

  Ruby reached out to my elbow. “I wish you’d tell me what’s happening. I’m not a kid. I know things. I see things.”

  Letting out a ragged breath, I lifted my jean-covered legs and sock-clad feet beneath me and stared into my daughter’s eyes. “Someday you’ll understand how much as a mother you want to protect your child.”

  “I’m not a child.”

  My cheeks rose in a smile as I scanned her beautiful face—high cheekbones, naturally long lashes surrounding her vivid blue eyes—down to her slender neck and over her maturing curves currently covered with a soft sweatshirt and leggings. “You’re not. Still, there are ghosts better left in the past.”

  “Did he hurt you? Now that we’re gone, you can tell me.” When I didn’t answer, she clarified, “Andros.”

  “Now that we’re gone,” I said, “we can move on.”

  “You did a good job protecting me. I don’t think I realized how much until seeing you here. I was so used to it, you always being worried, concerned, and on alert. Watching you last night at dinner, this morning at breakfast, and here now, you seem…I don’t know if it’s good or bad. I think you’re not as stressed, but you also seem out of it.”

  Laying my hand over hers, I confessed, “I’m all of that. I have so many things on my mind. First and foremost, I’m happy you are here and I’m here. I’m a bit in shock that we made it.”

  “What if Patrick changes his mind?” Ruby asked. “It’s a big adjustment to find out your wife is alive and she had a daughter over sixteen years ago.”

  “What if we change our minds?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ruby, I did a terrible job of one thing. I did everything I could for you, but in the process, I showed you that it’s acceptable to be dependent upon someone else, a man, even when he wasn’t the best man. Patrick is not Andros. I loved him and I still do. It’s funny, but after all this time, I feel like I’m falling in love again. I know you don’t want to hear your mom say things like that.”

  “No,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “You’re right, it’s mush, but I do like it. I want you to be happy. If you are, why would we want to leave?”

  “Because, for the first time, we can. Not yet. We aren’t safe out there.” I motioned toward the windows. “But if and when we are, maybe I should show you that women don’t need a man. Maybe for the first time, I should encourage you to be independent. There’s so much world for you, Ruby.”

  “Don’t do it for me.”

  She’d been telling me for years she wasn’t a child, but for the first time, I truly saw her for who she was. She’d always be my child, but she was more. She was a young woman and the only woman who really knew me, or at least knew what I’d shown her. “Why not?”

  “Because, Mom, you’ve done everything for me. I don’t know all of it, but I know you love me, and I heard Araneae and Mr. Sparrow talking about you sacrificing. I’m sixteen. Stop sacrificing. If you want to be independent, do it. If you want to have the life you never could with Patrick, do that. I know I’m young, but if you ask me, being with a man you love isn’t an example of dependency. Being with one you don’t love, one you may even fear…that’s a poor example.

  “Now that’s over. At least, that’s what you all keep saying.

  “So if you want to do something for me, do what you want, what makes you happy. For the first time since you found out I was inside you, make your decisions based on you.”

  Though my throat was dry, I tried to swallow. “How did you become so wise?”

  “I don’t know if I am. I know I like being able to be with you without you constantly checking the door or looking over your shoulder.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “I didn’t realize you noticed.”

  “Now, tell me about New Orleans.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She lifted the iPad. “It’s a habit of mine to do searches for your name. I mean, sometimes it would be a few weeks between calls. I’d search your name to see if you were traveling and how you were doing on the poker circuit. I was always excited when you did well.”

  “Gambling isn’t the best profession to show my daughter.”

  “Why? It’s a skill. What if you were an athlete or an actor? Why is legal gambling any less impressive?”

  “You didn’t mind?” I asked.

  “Heck no. I would brag about you to my friends. I even paid attention to some of your opponents. I wanted you to win the one here in Chicago and beat that Elliott guy...oh and that Dunn guy. He’s a jerk on social media.”

  I smiled. “He’s kind of a jerk in real life.”

  “I saw the news thing where Mr. Elliott called you his fiancée.” Her nose wrinkled. “That’s not true, is it?”

  My head shook. “No. The only thing that is true is here and what Patrick and I have told you.”

  We both turned as the cell phone upon the kitchen bar began to vibrate.

  “Maybe that’s Patrick,” she said.

  I reached for her hand. “I don’t want to leave here. I want to make it work with Patrick. Are you saying you’re okay with that?”

  “Mom, your phone.”

  “Please. I want to know how you feel.”

  Ruby’s blue eyes shone. “I say go for it. And I hope soon we can go back out in the world. I miss my friends at school.”

  Hurrying across the room, I lifted the phone and read the name. PATRICK.

  Nodding excitedly toward Ruby, I let her know it was Patrick. Connecting the call, I said, “Hello.”

  Patrick

  A detour in our day found Sparrow and I on our way to one of the Sparrow planes. We now had a flight planned, taking us to a private airport south of San Clemente, California, the closest airport to where Jerry and Wendy Millstone now resided.

  Apparently, since Jerry Millstone conducted his illicit business under the alias of Dr. Miller, he found no reason to hide his true identity or whereabouts. His cavalier attitude allowed us to access enough to track him down in no time after we left the Sparrow mansion.

  “I remember Jerry Millstone,” Sparrow said as Romero drove us to the airport. “He was one of the men who would visit my father’s inner office. He never stuck out in my mind as a man of any importance and wasn’t officially part of the Sparrow outfit.”

  “It sounds like he was a friend with benefits for both the Sparrows and McFaddens,” I said.

  “It could have been the Sparrow outfit who bought her,” Sparrow admitted.

  By her, he meant Madeline.

  “I know that. I also know it wasn’t. Madeline remembers it vividly as McFadden.” I recalled the little bits and pieces she’d divulged to me. It wasn’t much, and I wasn’t ready to push her for more. She mentioned being removed from the house she refers to as the cell house and taken by driver to a mansion where
she met Andros. She recalled McFadden being present. She was even able to describe him. My rational mind reminded me that Rubio McFadden had been a senator and was recently arrested. His picture was easily accessible, but her description wasn’t as much of a visual representation as it was sensory. She described cigar smoke and cologne. She recounted a study or library with exact details down to the grandfather clock.

  There was no reason to believe that after all these years her memories had forged with the man she saw on the news outlets. Madeline also said she’d never heard the name Allister Sparrow until Ivanov and Elliott told her the name.

  I pulled my phone from my inner jacket pocket and called Madeline’s new number.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “Hi,” I replied, my gaze going to Sparrow. “Sparrow was called away for a day trip. I’m joining him.”

  “Okay,” she said tentatively. “Is that what you do, accompany him?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Stay safe.”

  “I wanted you to know,” I said, “that it may be late when we return. Will you be okay?”

  Madeline let out a breath. “I’m here in your apartment with Ruby. I couldn’t be better…unless you were here too.”

  “I’ll let Lorna know that you’ll need dinner.”

  “I hate being a burden. I could try that cooking thing.”

  I scoffed. “Not with the food in our apartment. Getting groceries is on our list of things to do.” After tracking down every asshole…

  “Do you want me to do that?”

  “Grocery shop? No. No one is leaving the apartment until we settle a few things. Believe me when I say that Lorna is prepared for this and keeps everything well stocked.”

  “Don’t worry about us.”

  I peered at the man next to me. “Maddie, I need to ask you a question. Can you step into the bedroom so Ruby can’t hear?”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “Give me a second.”

  “What?” Sparrow asked.

  “Your mother mentioned Millstone’s wife. I know it was a long time ago. I just want to ask her—”

  “I’m here,” her voice returned to the phone.

  “Can you tell me anything you remember about Dr. Miller’s office?”

  “Patrick…I’m not…”

  I put my phone on speaker. “The people, the building, were there others, maybe a medical staff?”

  “Um, it was downtown Chicago. I don’t know exactly where. Kristine drove us downtown. We shopped on the Magnificent Mile and ate lunch, then we walked to the building. I remember we rode an elevator.”

  “That hardly narrows it down,” Sparrow whispered.

  Maddie went on, “There was a waiting room where a woman had me fill out forms. Then she took me in the back into a hallway to an exam room. Kristine came with me. After it happened, I relived it so many times that I’ll never forget the woman. Her name was Wendy. She did an exam and declared that I was pregnant.”

  My stare met Sparrow’s. “Maddie, please repeat the woman’s name.”

  “Wendy. I don’t think I ever heard her last name. She knew Kristine though.”

  “Dr. Miller?” I asked.

  “He was old. At least, to an eighteen-year-old girl he seemed old. He didn’t say much. I remembered he wasn’t dressed like I thought a doctor should be. There was no lab coat or stethoscope. He wore expensive clothes and shoes. For some reason, I remembered that when he entered the room, his shoes were wet as if he’d walked in the snow and it had melted. That stuck out because I remembered wondering where had he been if that was his office.” She let out a long sigh. “I’d rather not think about it anymore.”

  “That is more than enough,” I said, turning off the speaker. “No more. What you said helps and for the record, I think you’re amazing. I’ll let you know when we’re on our way home.”

  “Patrick…” She paused.

  “What?”

  “Stay safe. Don’t do anything that would put you in danger. We’ve waited too long for this. I don’t want revenge. I want us.”

  She might not want revenge.

  I did.

  I wanted it enough for both of us.

  It was more than want.

  It was a need that could only be quenched with blood.

  I wanted every person who hurt her, who was even a little bit responsible for the hell she’d endured, to suffer.

  “We’ll both be back as soon as possible,” I assured her.

  “And this trip is for Mr. Sparrow, not me or you?”

  I looked at Sparrow through my peripheral vision. He’d been the one to call the pilot

  Did he want revenge too?

  “There are some things I can’t or won’t explain.”

  She sighed.

  “Maddie, I love you. Don’t doubt that.”

  “I hope so. Me too. Oh, there’s something Ruby just saw, but I can tell you later. I like that I’ll see you tonight.”

  “What did she see?” I asked.

  “There’s a poker tournament in New Orleans beginning this coming Thursday. I’m listed as a confirmed participant.”

  “Fuck that,” I said.

  Madeline laughed.

  The laughter in the midst of this turmoil was light to the dark building within me. The harmonious ringing was perhaps one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard. Without a doubt, it was one that I could listen to every day for the rest of my life.

  “I guess that means you think I should be a no-show?”

  “I think that one day if you want to show the world what an outstanding poker player Madeline Kelly is, I’ll be there cheering you along. As for stepping into a tournament in a little over a week, you’re right. I think, hell no.”

  “Stay safe,” she said. “The past is over. I want to move forward.”

  “I’ll let you know when we are on our way home.”

  After I disconnected the phone call, I turned to Sparrow. “It makes me sound like a pussy, but I like that.”

  “Having someone who really cares that you make it home? Yeah, I agree. It’s nice to know someone is waiting for your return.” His stare met mine. “Wendy is Jerry Millstone’s wife’s name.”

  “I don’t need any additional evidence that this is our man, do you?”

  Sparrow’s dark eyes narrowed as his head shook. “Our couple. I don’t often exact revenge on women, but I do make exceptions.”

  It was my turn to nod.

  During the remainder of our way to the airport and through the first half of the flight, Sparrow and I continued to busy ourselves with all things Jerry Millstone. He wasn’t a doctor, not of any variety—PhD or medical. Instead, Jerry Millstone started his career as a stockbroker. Inasmuch as he worked in finance, he became well acquainted with members of the upper echelon of Chicago. His specialty was investment, attainment, and growing the wealth of those already wealthy.

  On paper, it appeared as though Millstone made his fortune in the 90s riding the wave of corporate raids—buying companies, raping them of their resources, and leaving the employees to wither away without fulfilling promises made to them by their original employer. He was part of a family practice that worked as one-stop shopping for only the wealthiest of clients. His part was growing wealth. The group also included attorneys, accountants, private investigators, wealth managers, and fixers. The men and women worked together to make their clients’ dreams come true and then erase them from public record.

  By not aligning himself with either outfit or any one particular client, Millstone maintained a type of anonymity that allowed him to conduct his side business with whichever outfit or patron was in the market for what he distributed—people.

  We were an hour away from our destination when Sparrow closed the screen before him and stood. There was something in his movements that caught my attention. When I looked up, he was staring out one of the rectangular windows, his hand on the wall above.

  “We haven’t discussed what we’
re planning on doing during this visit,” I said, initiating the conversation.

  His dark eyes came my way. “She’s my sister.”

  I leaned back against the seat and took in a deep breath. “Maybe someday you can admit that to her.”

  “How fucked up is it that the wife of one of my best…” He stopped as one side of his lips moved upward. “…friends...? I know I don’t say that much.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “I can’t believe it wasn’t my father who called the hit. It was my fucking mother who tried to have her killed, who succeeded in killing her parents and leaving her homeless. Why haven’t you brought that up since we left her house?”

  “Really, Sparrow, what can I say?” I replied. “I’m shocked. I’ve never liked the queen regent, and while the feeling is mutual, it was fucking easier to imagine Allister as the man making the decision.”

  His head shook. “I wonder how many there were.”

  “Isn’t that like the Sparrow Institute?” I asked. “Araneae can’t lose sleep because she isn’t helping every victim. Instead, she needs to keep working to help the ones she can.”

  “No wonder I’m so fucked up.” He collapsed back into the large leather chair. “My mother sat there discussing this as if it wasn’t only her duty but some clique of which she was an honored member—rich biddies gathered around a parlor, drinking tea, playing mahjongg, and ordering the deaths of their husbands’ mistresses and children if they refused to have abortions.” His head shook. “Just another day in paradise.”

  “It shouldn’t shock us. We have a long list of deceased who became that way either by our orders or our hands.”

  “You’re right, it shouldn’t and we do. This is my mother. Part of me wanted to believe that she didn’t know what my father did, to pretend her only guilt was compliancy.” His fist pounded upon the table. "That would have been enough to secure her spot in hell next to my father, but it isn’t all she’s done. Genevieve Sparrow has her own share of blood on her hands.”

  “We all do.”

  Sparrow’s nostrils flared. “You heard her; she wants it all to stay buried.”

  “What are our plans in San Clemente?” I asked, changing the subject.