Indirect Route

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Indirect Route Page 8

by Matthews, Claire


  “A likely story,” Aaron said, laughing.

  “Well, with that attitude, you’re not getting anything.” She twirled quickly and threw her legs out of the side of the bed, only to be grabbed by the waist and pulled back in. He kissed her playfully, and she was more than happy to reciprocate. His lips were warm from sleep, and she was enthusiastically learning the planes of his back with the tips of her fingers when they were interrupted by the chirp of her cell phone.

  “God,” she moaned, reaching blindly for the bedside table. “I’d better take it. I told my boss I’d be available while I was out of town.”

  Aaron rolled off of her and gave her a bashful grin. God, he was adorable.

  “This is Janie.”

  “Girl, where the hell are you? You said you’d call last night when you got back to the hotel.”

  Mia.

  “I’m sorry. I was a little preoccupied.” Aaron wiggled his eyebrows at her and she put a warning finger over his lips.

  “So, what’s happening? Did you find out anything about him? Is he still alive?” Mia was talking a mile a minute, which meant she was on her fourth cup of coffee, at least.

  “We didn’t find him, but we found my grandmother. And I don’t have a clue whether he’s alive or not.”

  “Your grandmother? Holy crap, Jane, that’s big.” It was clear that Mia was desperate for information, so Janie took a few moments to fill her in on the events of the previous 48 hours. Mia, temporarily sated, began to fill her in on events in the office. By the time they were off the phone, Aaron had already changed into his running shorts and t-shirt.

  “Sorry about that. Information is not something that Mia is easily denied.”

  “Been there, done that. She’s like a dog with a T-bone steak.” Janie nodded in agreement. “Listen, why don’t you go on down and get some breakfast? I’m going for a quick run, and then we can get to work.”

  “What’s our next move, Sherlock?”

  “I think we’ll be making a road trip to Shreveport.”

  “Oh, goodie,” Janie cried, clapping her hands. “I gotta say, I’m learning to love road trippin’ with you.”

  Aaron grinned before reaching into his suitcase to grab his iPod. Janie grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled him forward.

  “You go run, I’ll gas up the car and grab something for us to eat. What’s your favorite road-trip snack?”

  Aaron paused to consider the question. “Red Vines and Mountain Dew.”

  “Aaron, God.”

  “I know.”

  ***

  They were on the road to Shreveport by ten o’clock. Janie was driving, and Aaron was acting a little too nervous for her liking.

  “Should I be insulted that you don’t trust my driving?”

  Aaron gave her a sheepish look. “It’s not you, I promise. I’ve got a thing about driving. I mean, not about driving, more like about being a passenger when someone else is driving.”

  “A bit of a control freak, are you?”

  “When I was in sixth grade, we were in a car accident.” He stopped, and Janie wondered whether she should push him to continue.

  “Who’s we?” She asked after a protracted silence.

  “Me and my parents. My dad was driving. We were going to visit my sister in Austin. It was raining pretty hard, and a truck crossed over the median and hit us. He rammed the driver’s side and we flip over three times. We ended up trapped, upside down.”

  “Jesus. Aaron.” Janie didn’t know what else to say. They drove in silence.

  “Everyone was fine, believe it or not. I mean, the airbags bruised the crap out of my mom’s chest, but other than that we walked away without a scratch.” Aaron’s face was grim.

  “That’s fantastic.” She paused. “Right?”

  “Of course,” Aaron said, sounding frustrated. “It’s just…I know it sounds weird, but I feel like that was my get-out-of-jail-free card. And now, all bets are off. I mean, nobody gets two miracles in one lifetime, right?”

  Janie thought for a moment. She wanted to say the right thing, but she wasn’t quite sure what that might be. “Maybe it wasn’t your miracle,” she said at last.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what if it was your mom’s miracle? Or your dad’s? Maybe your slate is still clean. After all, you were just along for the ride.”

  “It can’t be just one person’s miracle. It was a miracle for all of us,” Aaron insisted.

  “Why not? Why can’t it just be your parents’ miracle?”

  “I don’t know. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  Janie gave him a quick, pointed look, then turned back to the road. “But your ‘we only get one miracle’ theory makes total sense.”

  Aaron shook his head, but she could see his slow grin from the corner of his eye.

  “You may have a point,” he conceded. “But I’d still rather be driving.”

  “What man wouldn’t?” She signaled to change lanes, and Aaron gripped the armrest with white knuckles.

  After another fifty miles, Janie took pity on him and pulled into a gas station. She turned off the ignition and threw the keys in his lap. “Fill up the tank and you can drive.”

  “Please?” he taunted.

  “See what you’ve done to me? I now have the manners of an ape.”

  They arrived in Shreveport by mid-afternoon. Stopping at a McDonald’s near the interstate, Janie got in line to get Aaron a happy meal while he compiled the information he’d obtained through his buddies on her aunt, Linda Brown Hartford.

  Back in the car, Janie pumped him for information. Aaron squinted while he read the information off the screen of his iPhone.

  “Okay, it looks like she lives on the north side of town. Linda Marie Brown, born September 18, 1963. Married Peter Higgins in 1982. Divorced in 1987. Then married George Hartford in 1994. Looks like they’ve lived here in Shreveport since 1999. Two kids, Christina and Natalie. Born 1997 and 2002.”

  “I have cousins,” Janie said with a grin. “I’ve always wanted cousins.”

  “It also says she’s been an educational diagnostician at an elementary school since 2004.”

  “Wow, what a coincidence,” Janie muttered. “I mean, us working in basically the same field. Let’s go to her house.” She tapped the armrest of her door.

  “Wait a sec,” Aaron said. “How do we want to handle this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it sounds like Kenneth’s mom—“

  “My grandmother,” Janie corrected. He gave her a pointed look.

  “Right. It sounds like your grandmother has a strained relationship with Kenneth, at best. At worst, they’re totally cut off. It stands to reason that he and Linda might not be on speaking terms, either.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” She bounced on her seat a few times. “Let’s go.”

  His face was pinched, and Janie fought her impatience. “Aaron, seriously. I’m prepared for whatever we find. Even if it’s bad.” He still looked doubtful. “I promise.”

  He shrugged and started the car, calling out the address for her to key into her phone. “Let’s just go in saying we have some questions about Kenneth, since his name popped up in your mom’s probate papers.”

  “You mean tell the truth?” Janie let out a sarcastic gasp.

  “Yes, but we’re not going to mention that you’re Kenneth’s daughter. We’ll play it like we did at JPI—we’re just investigating for a law firm.”

  “Why do you insist on hiding my existence from my relatives? Has it ever occurred to you that they might be happy to find me?”

  Aaron looked surprised. He glanced quickly at her, then focused his eyes back on the road. “Janie, it’s not like that. It’s just that most people in this world don’t want to be found. And anyway-“He stopped himself, and busied his hands with the cruise control buttons on the steering wheel.

  “Anyway, what?”

  “Nothing. Never mind
.” After he finished with the cruise control, he started adjusting the sun visor, flipping it this way and that, looking for the perfect angle.

  “Aaron. What?”

  “I was just going to say that if they wanted to find you, they would have done so by now. Look how long it’s taken us to find them. One day? Two, tops?”

  Janie opened her mouth to respond, then stopped herself. He was right, of course. Any of her relatives, including her father, could have found her over the last twenty years if they’d wanted to. It wasn’t like she and her mother were on the run. They’d lived in the same house since the late 1990s. All her life she’d thought that her father was ignorant of her birth. But he wasn’t. He knew she was alive, had raised her for at least a year. And then he’d abandoned her.

  “I hadn’t thought of it like that.” She looked out the side window, embarrassed by her earlier excitement. She wasn’t headed towards a long-awaited reunion with a loving aunt and younger cousins. At best, she’d probably find a skeptical woman, resentful of her brother, uninterested in a niece she’d never met. “Maybe we shouldn’t go after all.”

  Aaron’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We don’t know why your mom and dad were estranged. We don’t know that your relatives don’t want to be found. God, why can’t I keep my stupid mouth shut?” He wiped his palms up and down the front of his jeans.

  “It’s the truth. And you’re right, I shouldn’t be getting my hopes up. These people aren’t my family. My mom was my family.” And now she’s dead, Janie thought, but left that part unsaid.

  “Janie.” Aaron’s voice was soft. Full of pity. It made her angry.

  “Screw it. We’ll go meet Linda. I’ll find my dad and let him know what he missed. He doesn’t deserve a daughter twenty-three years late, anyway.”

  They drove in silence for the next several miles, interrupted only by the computerized voice of the GPS, directing them through Shreveport traffic. Twenty minutes later, they were in front of a two-story brick house in a master-planned subdivision. Aaron stopped the car, but didn’t turn off the engine.

  “Do you want to do this now? Would you rather go and get a cup of coffee or something?”

  “No, let’s get it over with.” She knew she was being unfair, unleashing her anger and hurt on Aaron, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Aaron just nodded, taking her mood in stride.

  The front door was answered by a tall, awkward girl, with a long French braid and braces covered in rainbow-colored rubber bands.

  “Hi, is your mother home? Linda Hartford? We have some questions we need to ask her.” Aaron sound calm and professional. Janie was still seething with anger, and could barely look the girl in the face. They were cousins. Was this Christina or Natalie?

  “No, she’s still at work.”

  “Hey, dumbass, you’re not supposed to tell strangers that your parents aren’t home.” This from the back of the house. Janie heard footsteps, then saw another girl, tall like the first, but with none of the younger girl’s homeliness. She was a knockout, with a curvy figure encased in black spandex workout shorts and a pink tank top.

  “Who are you?”

  Aaron went through his spiel, mentioning the law firm and the probate paperwork. Janie wanted to tell him to save his breath—these girls clearly didn’t know or care what a probate case was.

  “We just need to ask your mom a few questions. About your uncle,” she said.

  “We don’t have an uncle,” the younger girl declared, her face now a mask of suspicion.

  “Your mother’s brother. Ken.” Aaron added.

  “Who’s Ken?” The younger one looked confused. Workout Shorts ignored her.

  “Who’s Ken?” The younger one repeated.

  “Shut up, Nat. I’ll explain later.”

  “Christina,” Janie began. The older girl came up short at the sound of her name. “Listen, what we told you before—it wasn’t the truth. I don’t work for a law firm. I just need some information about Ken. And I think your mom can provide it for me.”

  “Why? What’s it to you?”

  “Ken’s my father.”

  “So you’re Janie.” Christina said, her face grim. “I figured. You look like him.”

  “Who. The hell. Is Ken?” Natalie screeched.

  “You must be Natalie,” Janie said, extending her hand. “I’m Janie. And this is my friend Aaron. I need some information, and I’m hoping your mom can help me. Do you know when she’s going to be home? I can leave my cell phone number.”

  Natalie remained still, and didn’t respond to Janie’s questions. Christina moved back and opened the door fully. “Come on in. Mom will want to meet you. She should be home in a few minutes.”

  Aaron stepped back and let Janie go in first. They were led by the girls to a family room with two overstuffed couches. Janie sat in one and sank so low that she doubted her ability to stand up again.

  “Would you like some juice or something?” Christina asked.

  Aaron opened his mouth to decline, but Janie placed her hand on his knee. “Sure, I’d love some juice. He would, too,” she said, pointing her thumb at Aaron with a grin. After both girls retreated to the Janie gave Aaron a sheepish look.

  “I couldn’t lie to kids, okay? Plus, I just want information. It’s not like I’m coming begging for money, or some kind of Hallmark Channel reconciliation. I just want to find him.”

  “I know,” was all Aaron said. They looked at each other for a long moment, and Janie would have reached over and kissed him if there weren’t two teenagers in the next room. They were startled by the roaring bark of a heretofore unseen black lab coming from the backyard, followed by the sound of a door opening. Linda was home.

  CHAPTER 12

  AARON

  An hour later, Janie was still staring at Linda with a look of disbelief on her face. Aaron could tell that she was overwhelmed, but he wasn’t sure whether he should intervene or butt out. So he sat back and waited.

  “I still don’t understand. I mean, where is he now?”

  Linda, a middle-aged woman with short, frosted-blonde hair, gave Janie a look of sympathy. “He’s in a facility back in Alabama. Birmingham. He’s been there for over ten years now.”

  “Does anyone ever go and see him?”

  “I go once or twice a year. Last year I took Christina with me.” Janie’s face was pained. Linda signed. “I know it sounds cruel, but he doesn’t want or need visitors. It upsets him. He’s convinced that we are all out to kill him. His doctors say that it takes him weeks to calm down after we come to visit.”

  “Isn’t there medicine or something that will help?”

  “They’ve tried a lot of different things. Schizophrenics react differently to different meds. Ken’s been on several different experimental drugs, but the effective doses are usually so high that they cause all kinds of horrible side effects.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, a few years back the doctors thought they’d found a new drug with some real promise, but within a week he was having involuntary muscle spasms. They got increasingly worse, and then he started having seizures, so they discontinued it.”

  “It’s just so sad,” Janie whispered. “I don’t understand why they can’t find some way to help him.”

  “He’s not miserable, honey,” Linda said, reaching out to cover Janie’s hand with hers. “They have him on anti-psychotics and tranquilizers. For the most part, he’s calm. He reads books and watches some TV. He’s in group therapy and individual therapy. They teach him how to cope when he’s feeling overwhelmed or frustrated.”

  “But he’s not well enough to see me? Does he even want to?” Janie’s voice broke, and Aaron wanted to take her away from this house, these people. He knew it was going to be bad news. Why didn’t he do more digging before bringing her here to be ambushed?

  Linda’s frowned. “I think at some level he does. But you have to understand, he has demons. Voices that feed him lies. He wa
s convinced for decades that your mother wanted to kill him. Just the mention of her name would send him into a panicked rage.”

  “Does he know she’s dead?”

  “No. I called the hospital, but they thought it’d be best to wait for a while to tell him. He’s been having trouble with his latest medication, and they don’t think he’s stable enough to handle it.”

  “Do you think he’d agree to see me if he knew mom was gone?”

  “I don’t know.” Linda looked contemplative. “You looks so much like her. I’m not sure he’d be able to handle it. And I’m not sure they’d allow you to see him anyway. For your own safety.”

  “But it can’t hurt to try. If he gets agitated, I could always leave.”

  “Janie, listen.” Linda took one of Janie’s hands and held it between her palms. “Your mother never told you anything about why she left your dad?”

  “No, I told you. She always said he was a one-night stand, and that she didn’t know his name.”

  “Okay.” Linda took a deep breath, then cleared her throat. “Okay. The truth is, Ken got it in his head that Elaine was cheating on him. She wasn’t, of course, but he was convinced that she was having an affair with one of the men in the neighborhood. I don’t even remember who it was, but he was sure of it. And from there, he began to believe that you weren’t his child. That your father was this man your mom was supposedly sleeping with.”

  “Jesus,” Janie whispered.

  “It was horrible. He’d terrorize your mother. Threaten her. He locked her in closet once, when he thought she was leaving the house to meet up with the neighbor. And then he began hitting her, torturing her. Holding her face over the flames on the stove, throwing lit cigarettes at her.”

  “Why didn’t she leave? I mean, obviously she left, but why didn’t she leave sooner?” Janie’s voice was thin. Aaron could feel her anger, her outrage on behalf of her mother.

  “Because she loved him,” Linda said simply. “She knew he was sick, she wanted to get him some help. He’d have these periods of lucidity, and he’d apologize, and agree to see a therapist. But eventually the voices took over, and weekly therapy wasn’t enough. He needed to be institutionalized.”

 

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