by Alice Ward
Bill looked at me. “He’s exactly that smart. He knows the last place people look is the obvious and he’s got everything he needs there to hide the kid, stay warm and fed and escape in every direction. I’ll bet that’s exactly where he is!”
He sprang into action, alerting his team, including the guys from Chicago. “I’m going there,” he said to me and I grabbed my coat. I begged Betsy to stay upstairs with Auggie but not to let on that we had any clue.
“Make sure the doctor stays with her… just in case,” I managed to get out.
“Worth!” a voice behind me shouted. “I’m going too.” It was Bernie and I nodded.
On the way to the farm, Bill asked for a lay of the land. I told him our best bet was to come in from the rear of the property, around the barns so we could get a good look at the house without him seeing us. If there were tracks of any kind in the snow, we’d know he was inside. No one else would be going near the house. Bill’s men all met us at the appointed spot. Even Brandon showed up, but I asked him to go and be with Auggie. He nodded and disappeared.
The men from Chicago were huge hulks, each wearing bulky woolen coats that indicated they were heavily armed. They stayed to the back. They were content to let us try to get to Ford before they would do what they’d come to do.
Bill’s men, staying out of sight of the house, sneaked up to the barns and then motioned us forward. They had dour looks on their faces and we soon discovered why. Bill opened the access door and then lowered his weapon. The floor was littered with dead. Some of them I recognized; they’d been with my father for years. Others were new hires. I had to fight not to vomit. Bill’s men covered them with horse blankets but we had to leave them be. We couldn’t move them; the police would eventually have to be called. We could no longer keep this quiet.
Using binoculars, we could see there were fresh tire tracks in the drive and footprints leading up toward the front of the house. We didn’t have the vantage to see whether they’d gone in through the front door, or broken a window, but there were definitely tracks.
Ford was too young the last time he’d been in that house. He wouldn’t have any idea where he was and there would be no trace of family portraits or anything familiar to clue him in. For all he knew, it was where Linc lived or just a public building. I hadn’t been inside since the non-profit took over, but assumed it’d been made fairly generic.
The sun was fairly high now so there would be no sneaking up to the building. It was cold and we had to be careful because our breath caused steam to rise above us. It would be seen from a distance.
Bill came up to me. “I want you to call Linc’s phone — you got the number?”
I shook my head. “No, but I have Ford’s.”
“You think he’s got it on him?”
“I think so. I didn’t see it at the house. I tried it earlier, but it went straight to voice mail.”
“Makes sense, he probably turned it off so we couldn’t track it. Let’s try anyway. He might have it on, waiting for a call. It’s worth a shot.”
I was already accessing my phone, but Bill put a hand on my arm.
“If it’s on, my guess is that Linc will answer. You’re to tell him that you know he’s got Ford and that you want to move up the appointment time to — let’s see — eleven this morning. Tell him your staff has gone home and you’ll be waiting for him, alone. Tell him that you know if you get anyone involved, he’ll hurt the boy and you’ll give him whatever he wants for his safe return. We might be able to flush him out of the house and get a shot at him from this distance. Scotty? You ready?”
A man nodded and his sniper rifle came off his shoulder strap. He found a solid footing on a stack of hay bales and slid open the window above it, taking aim at the house.
Bill knew what I was going to ask. “Don’t worry, Worth. He can pick off a fly at ten times that distance. He won’t hurt the boy. Okay, you ready?”
I looked at the thugs, expecting them to step in, wanting Linc for themselves. But they surprised me by backing off. I looked back at Bill and nodded, taking a deep breath. This call would be the most important of my entire life. Everything depended on my staying calm and letting Linc think he held all the cards. I cleared my throat and tapped on Ford’s number in my address book. Bill held a finger up for silence and I put it on speaker.
It rang three times and then clicked. There was no sound. “Linc?” I said, holding my breath.
“Father?” It was Ford’s voice and my knees almost buckled with relief. So far, so good.
“Son, let me speak to the man with the beard.”
“I can’t, Father.” I could picture Linc holding a gun to Ford’s head and my thoughts raced with what to say next. We hadn’t planned this into the scenario discussed.
“Ford, it will be fine, son. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, Father, I’m not hurt. I’m just fine. Can you come and get me?”
What a strange thing to ask. “Ford, can you talk?”
“Of course, Father. Please just come and get me. It’s okay.”
I muted the phone and looked at Bill. “Doesn’t sound to me like he’s in any imminent danger. He’d be scared and Linc would be coaching him not to tell you to come. I think we’re going in.”
I unmuted the phone and said, “Ford, are you able to go outside? Is it alright with the man with the beard?”
“Sure, Father. He won’t care. But please hurry. I don’t have a coat.”
Suddenly, there was a flurry of arms signaling from Bill’s men. We ran forward cautiously, and then in a full out run as we saw Ford emerge from the house, alone. One of Bill’s men reached him first and threw him into the snow, covering him with his body.
I caught up and grabbed Ford and held him up against my chest, shielding him as I headed to the barn. “Why are you running, Father? The man can’t hurt you.”
I stopped and looked down at him. “Why not, Ford?”
“Because I killed him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Worth
I handed Ford to Bernie, who headed back to the barn. Cautiously, we approached the house but Bill’s men eventually waved us in. I walked through the door that had always meant disapproval, punishment, and pain for me. I walked in and followed bloody tracks across the polished flooring, into my father’s study. There was Linc, lying over the desk, just as Father had. He was dead, a pocket knife embedded in his juggler. The knife was engraved, “Merry Christmas, Father. From your son, Ford.”
The men from Chicago were the only two in the room who weren’t mentally celebrating. Even they shrugged and then left for parts unknown.
Bill made a call and soon police were flooding the drive and yard, even back to the barn. Bill stood out front, giving a statement and I went in search of my son.
I found him behind the barn, wrapped in Bernie’s warm coat. Bernie was holding him and they were both sober-faced. We went back to the vehicles and I loaded them into mine, turning on the heat to warm them both. Bill came up to the window and asked us to go to the police station for a statement, but I shook my head. “I’m taking them home. There’s a doctor there and they’ve both been through a trauma and may likely go into shock. They can come and talk to us there, but we’re going home.”
Bill tapped the roof of the car to signal me to go on home and that’s where I headed. When we got there, Auggie was waiting at the door. She grabbed Ford up in her arms and cried unabashedly. Betsy was waiting with blankets and food and we wouldn’t even let go of Ford long enough for him to go and shower. The police arrived shortly thereafter, as did Bill and his men. They sat around the dining table and Bill gave them all the evidence and information he’d assembled. Then it was time to talk to Ford.
I held my hand up to the others. I would do the talking.
“Son, can you tell us what happened?”
“Sure. I heard you and Mother talking in your study and was coming to get you. I wanted you to see the presents I’d
wrapped. The front door opened and a man was standing there who looked almost like you, except he had a beard and his eyes were like Mother’s and mine. I called out to him, thinking it was you in a costume, going to surprise me and he grabbed me. I still thought it was you but when we got in his car, I knew it wasn’t. I tried to yell, but you couldn’t hear me. I knew you’d be worried, so I sat really quiet and waited to see what he would do.”
I smiled at him. “That was very smart of you, Ford. What happened next?”
“He took me to that place where you found me. It was sort of like a farm and sort of like an office. He locked me in a room and went out to the barn. I heard noises like a gun shooting and I figured he went out rabbit hunting for food. When he came back, he didn’t say anything to me but made me a peanut butter sandwich and he ate something else from the refrigerator. We went into another room that had no windows and he turned on a big screen TV. We watched movies and I think I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, I didn’t know if it was daytime or nighttime because it was dark in that room.”
“You did everything exactly right, son. I’m very proud of you.”
“Thanks. The guy was dumb because he left my phone on the table. I found it and turned it on and used the light to look around. He was sitting at the big desk and was asleep. His head was laying on his arms. Like this.”
I smiled as he demonstrated Linc’s position.
“I knew he was planning to hurt me, Father, I just knew it,” he continued quietly. “So, I reached into my pocket and got out a pocket knife. I’m sorry, but when you took me shopping, it took me so long because I had to wait while they engraved a message on it for you. It was your Christmas present from me.”
“No reason to apologize, Ford. I’m really glad you had a way to defend yourself. But how did you know what to do?”
He nodded and went on. “Well, I’d seen plenty of movies on how to kill people, especially at school, so I opened up the knife and stabbed him in the side of the neck. He jerked a little and tried to grab me, but I knew he would so I had already jumped back. Pretty soon, his blood all ran out and his head just laid there on his arms. He didn’t move anymore and his eyes were open and staring.”
“That must have been scary.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I was just trying to figure out what to do next when my phone rang and it was you. I was glad you came to get me. I was getting hungry and I didn’t know where I was. I guess I could have called you, or Bernie. I wouldn’t have called Mother, though. She worries so much.”
I hugged Ford and Auggie in one huge grasp and the men all nodded, shut off their recorders and left us alone. I took Auggie and Ford upstairs and Ford took a long, hot bath, as did Auggie and I. By the time I got downstairs, everyone was gone and the equipment had disappeared. It was as if it had never happened. The Christmas tree was lit.
“Father?” Ford asked, fingering an ornament on the tree. “Could you take me back to the store again? I need to get you a new Christmas present. I don’t think those men are going to let me have your knife back again.”
*
Auggie and I began to suffer from nightmares from that night on. Ford, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by anything. I packed us up the next day and we moved temporarily into the condo. It seemed to be the only place where nightmares had not yet followed us. Auggie was content with the change.
She was examined thoroughly by several top doctors and was indeed pregnant and in perfect health. I was very excited at the thought of having another child. Auggie was somewhat less thrilled, although I knew she would warm to it over time. She was just completely tapped out.
On Christmas Eve, I chartered a private jet and Auggie, Ford, Walter, Mother, Bernie, his friend and I headed for the warm weather. We went down to the Keys of Florida and found a huge bungalow we were lucky enough was not yet rented. We spent the entire holiday with our toes dug into the sand and our skin cooled by the waters of the Gulf.
It was a somber holiday, but there definitely was relief in the idea that Linc could no longer rise from the dead. There were too many witnesses and I had him cremated to be on the safe side. There was, however, collateral damage.
The gentlemen in Chicago were put out by the fact that they’d missed their reward and their revenge. I sent them their reward, despite the circumstances, as a donation to their favorite charity. Of course, it was their own coffers and that seemed to be enough to offset their desire for blood revenge. Before Linc was cremated, prints were taken and Brandon promised he would see to it that the bodies in my family plot and the one from the car with Jessie Klinger would be appropriately identified. The world had far too many dead Linc LaVieres.
Bill and his men were heavily rewarded, as was Earl Kinsey. I heard a rumor that he had moved north and perhaps his family’s ties were not yet completed severed. I wished him good luck.
Betsy was holding down the fort at home for us and I had a feeling she might be moving before too long. I had plans of buying a house or condo here in Florida. I wanted one large enough that Mother and Walter could live there and the rest of us could drop in when the mood struck us. Betsy and her sister would be treasured as staff there, but it would ultimately be up to them.
I used my contacts to have Brandon invited to run as state attorney general. My contacts assured me he was a shoe-in, particularly with my financial and personal endorsements.
This left decisions to be made for Auggie, Ford and myself. I would hold off a bit on these. I wanted to buy that condo in the meantime.
I rented us a limo bus and we were driven north along the Gulf Coast to Naples, Florida. I knew several people who had winter places here and I understood why. The temperature was pleasantly warm; in the upper seventies and the sun glittered across the Gulf waters. It was a quiet and very private community, catering to the very wealthy. The shops were brand names, leading the area to be known as 5th Avenue South. The city boasted no fewer than a dozen art galleries or museums and more than thirty restaurants that featured local seafood and exquisite cuisine.
I had an agent waiting for us when we disembarked and she began our tour in a set of condo towers that overlooked the Gulf. While it had a private beach, there were four pools with the condos themselves; two in and two outside. I looked at the penthouse floor which was currently available. It featured eight bedrooms with baths plus servants’ quarters, two kitchens — one inside and one on the massive patio. There was also an office, private gym, a massive great room with vaulted ceilings, the only such ceilings in the building due to it being on the top floor. We had an unobstructed view of the Gulf from more than half of the rooms.
While the building was certified hurricane-proof, it was only about ten years old but had recently been completely remodeled. Groceries could be delivered to your doorstep and there was a private physician who only took care of the residents in that building. Ownership included membership in the yacht club and a slip large enough to accommodate a hundred-foot yacht.
It was luxury living at its finest and well within my budget. What I particularly liked was that families lived there, not just retirees. This provided the chance of Ford making some friends, something I sincerely felt he badly needed. The condo had been completely decorated by a famous Miami interior designer and Auggie seemed enchanted with it. I made an offer on the spot and we closed the next day.
The condo became our home for the next month. I’d spoken to Ford’s military commandant and arranged for home tutoring, explaining the trauma that happened over the holidays. He did not, for some reason, seem particularly upset and I wondered whether there were things that Ford hadn’t shared with Auggie and me. I made a mental note to visit the man at some point and get a better idea of my son’s behavior.
Walter and I went shopping for a sea-worthy vessel and I bought a brand new yacht with five staterooms and three decks. It was large enough to travel to Europe, although I doubted whether Auggie would want to go any further than Alabama. It seemed, h
owever, to be the thing to have.
Auggie found her heart, though. Florida was a growing thoroughbred breeding state, coming close to Kentucky and Maryland. She shopped horses and found a boarding farm where she promptly bought three horses, boarding them there. It was less than an hour from the condo and she spent most of her time there, taking refuge in the familiar sights and smells of her world. The doctors certified she was in excellent health, so I let her go. Sometimes she took Ford with her and he had become an excellent horseman. I, on the other hand, was less enthusiastic but joined in occasionally in the spirit of family togetherness.
We still had decisions to make about our future. Auggie and I had decided, after the Christmas incident, that Ford had shown some tendencies that had us concerned, and we would need to make some hard decisions on his behalf until at least he was older. He had seemed completely unaffected by killing Linc. We consulted with Tyler, who agreed with us and suggested that we remove him from the school and keep a closer eye on him.
Once spring began to approach, Auggie was beginning to show in her pregnancy and I wanted to get her back to Louisville before she could possibly have any issues with flying. So we left Mother and Walter with the condo and staff and headed back north.
It was Derby time and although we weren’t planning a party this year, we had been invited to several and had accepted one. The dogwood were blooming when we arrived home and Derby week was about to begin. We took Ford down to the Belvedeere and watched Thunder Over Louisville, the massive day of celebration that included fly-overs by the Thunderbirds. There were also parachuting military from helicopters, vintage aircraft, hot air balloons and once darkness fell, a tremendous fireworks show that included rockets off the old railroad bridge, coordinated with huge speakers on both river banks. It was the sort of thing that you never forgot and no matter how crowded it was, you still wanted to go back each year.
