Ravenous

by HELEN HARDT

  “Some more files Joe and I found under the floorboards in the bedroom at the cabin.”

  “Oh?”

  I nodded. “I haven’t opened them yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “No reason.” I opened the first folder.

  And my heart dropped into my stomach.

  Three words stood out from the rest, as if they were pulsing in time with my heart.

  Henry Thomas Simpson.

  Henry Thomas Simpson.

  Henry Thomas Simpson.

  This document concerned my son.

  Marjorie stroked my hand. “Bryce?”

  I jolted back to reality. This was a contract. A fucking contract.

  Tom Simpson had paid off Henry’s mother to relinquish her parental rights.

  My fucked-up father had bought my son.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Marjorie

  Bryce went pale.

  “What is it?”

  He said nothing, just scanned the document, his eyes moving rapidly.

  “Babe?”

  “I can’t believe this,” he said.

  “What?”

  “My father. My fucking nutjob of a father.”

  “What did he do now?”

  He thrust the piece of paper at me. “See for yourself.”

  I rapidly read the document. “Francine Stokes. Is that your ex? Henry’s mom, right?”

  He nodded.

  “She—” I gasped. “What? He paid her a hundred thousand dollars to give up her rights to Henry?”

  “It sure looks that way.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “She called me last week,” Bryce said. “She wanted to see Henry. I told her no. I always figured she’d given up her rights voluntarily, so why should I let her come near my son? What kind of mother does that?”

  “A mother who gets a hundred grand, apparently,” I said.

  “There’s more to it than that,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’re not a mother, but let me ask you this anyway. How much money would it take for you to give up your own child?”

  My mouth dropped open. He was right. I wasn’t a mother, but I had two little boys I loved, and I’d never give either of them up for any amount of money.

  Which was exactly his point.

  “Somehow she found out my father is dead now, so she wants to see Henry.”

  “Are you going to allow it?”

  “I wasn’t, but now everything’s different.”

  “She still gave him up for money, no matter how you look at it.”

  “Yeah, she did, but my father didn’t play fair. You can bet on it.”

  “You mean he held a gun to her head?”

  “In a manner of speaking. It might have been a metaphorical gun. A mindfuck. Apparently my father was good at that.”

  “Bryce, you can’t lose Henry.” My heart nearly stopped. That little boy was everything to Bryce.

  “No, I can’t. I won’t.”

  “She gave up her rights. Whether it was voluntarily or not shouldn’t matter.” Even I didn’t believe what I was saying.

  “She was so adamant when she called. She sounded desperate,” Bryce said, his eyes tormented. “I treated her like shit.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. You thought she’d given him up.”

  “I should have been able to foresee this. This has my father’s stench all over it.”

  “You’re not a mind reader, Bryce.”

  “Why didn’t she say anything?” Bryce queried, more to himself than to me.

  “Maybe it didn’t happen the way you think. Maybe it was a simple exchange for money and that’s all, which makes her a shitty mother.”

  He shook his head. “Nothing my father ever did was simple. This is just another piece of a puzzle that seems never-ending.”

  “You don’t have to deal with everything today.”

  “But I do. I have to exorcize that bastard from my life.”

  “Why would he have done such a thing? Get rid of Henry’s mother?”

  “Why did my father ever do anything? If I could get into his head and figure it all out, I’d be as psychopathic as he was. I’d rather not.”

  “Maybe he did it for you. He got your son for you so you’d have him full-time. He knew that would make you happy.”

  He didn’t reply, just stared at the agreement, his forehead wrinkled.

  “Bryce?”

  “I was happy,” he said, his tone anything but. “I was always happy…until I found out who my father truly was.”

  “You’re not happy now?”

  He turned to me, his eyes overflowing with emotion. “Honey, I am. You make me deliriously happy, but I have so many unanswered questions. So much I still need to deal with.”

  “When are you going to talk to Mel?”

  “God only knows. Between the new job, which I haven’t given a hundred percent to yet, and trying to uncover the mystery of Justin and Colin Morse and now Frankie—”

  “Frankie?”

  “Francine. She went by Frankie.”

  “Oh.” Cute. Kind of. I felt bad for her if Tom had forced her into giving up her son, but she was still Bryce’s ex. I wasn’t going to like her. “Let’s take things one at a time. We don’t know whether Frankie is innocent here. She may have been happy to take the money.”

  “Marj…”

  “Why did you leave her in the first place?”

  “I caught her cheating.”

  “With whom?”

  His mouth curved up on one side. “A pizza delivery guy.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I laughed out loud.

  “Marj…” he said again.

  “Come on. This was a woman who cheated on you with a pizza delivery guy, for God’s sake. Hardly a paragon of virtue.”

  That got a smile out of him—this time from both sides of his mouth.

  “Look. Henry is safe with your mom in Florida. Frankie has no idea where he is. This isn’t something you need to worry about right now. Documents have been filed with the court showing that she gave up her rights. If she tries anything, she doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

  “But is it right for me to keep Henry from his mother?”

  “For now. Until we know for sure whether there were extenuating circumstances.”

  “This is my father, Marj. There were extenuating circumstances.”

  He knew both Tom and Francine better than I did, so I didn’t argue the point further. I stood and kissed his cheek. “I have to get home and see to the boys. Call me later.”

  “I will. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  As soon as I got into my car, I pulled out my phone to make a call.

  “Colin,” I said to his voicemail. “We need to talk.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Bryce

  “I’ve never shot a gun before,” Justin said to me.

  “You don’t have to. You can just watch Joe and me. We’re both really good at it, but my dad’s the best. He never misses the bull’s-eye.”

  Justin’s skin was an olive tan, but I swore he went pale when I showed him the guns at the cabin. Dad had gone outside to do some stuff. Joe and I liked to look at the guns when he was gone. He never let us touch them without him being around.

  “Thanks for bringing me here,” Justin said.

  “No problem,” Joe said. “Why do you let those jerks bother you, anyway?”

  “It’s hard. I’m always the new kid.”

  “How come?”

  “We move a lot. I don’t really know why.”

  “Taylor Johns is an asshole,” I said. “I’d love to crush his skull.”

  If possible, Justin went a little bit whiter.

  “He’ll get what’s coming to him one way or another,” Joe said.

  I’d heard Joe’s father utter those same words many times. Given enough rope, he’ll eventually hang himself. Joe’s dad said that a
lot too. I didn’t really understand what it meant. More rope meant more slack, which made hanging yourself impossible.

  But I didn’t worry about what it meant. I was just raring to get outside and start shooting. I loved the feeling of holding a gun, of pulling the trigger and shooting it. It gave me power over those empty soda cans. Power over the bull’s-eye in the middle of the paper target.

  Power.

  I liked power.

  My father tramped through the front door of the cabin. “All right, boys. Ready for some target practice?”

  “Yes!” Joe and I both shouted.

  Justin said nothing.

  “Come on, Justin,” Dad said. “There’s nothing to it.”

  “I’m not sure I want to, Mr. Simpson.”

  “You don’t have to, son. You can just watch.” My father clamped his arm around Justin’s shoulder. “But learning how to shoot is part of becoming a man. Just watch Bryce and Joe. You’ll see.”

  We went outside where my dad had set up the targets. I always liked to start with the cans. I loved the sound of the aluminum clanging as the entire pyramid came tumbling down with one shot.

  “You watch Bryce, son. He’ll go first.”

  The pistols lay out on a small picnic table. I chose Clark, my favorite. Joe and I had named all the guns. This one was named after Clark Kent.

  “Shooting is an art,” my father was saying to Justin as I loaded the weapon. “Every man should know how to do it and to do it well.”

  “Why, sir?” Justin asked.

  “You might need to defend yourself someday. Or you might have to protect someone you love. Or you might need to buy someone’s silence.”

  Buy someone’s silence? The words went in my ears and then out again. How could you buy silence? Silence wasn’t something you found at the store. You didn’t pick up a box of quiet at the market. If you could do that, my teacher would be buying it all the time. That made me laugh. I must have misheard because I was focused on getting ready to shoot.

  In the background, more words from my father’s mouth.

  “Money buys silence for a time, son, but a bullet buys it forever.”

  I jerked out of my daydream. I sat at the table, my cup of coffee full in front of me.

  Money buys silence for a time, son, but a bullet buys it forever.

  Had my father actually said that to a scared little boy? To Justin? Had he ever said those words to Joe and me?

  The whole weekend with Justin was still a blur, thanks to the drugs my father had undoubtedly given Joe and me. Maybe I’d made this up.

  But the words were crisp and clear in my head.

  I heard them in my father’s voice. That “I’m your father” tone he used when he wanted to make a point and didn’t want any argument.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to find the image in my mind. Outside the cabin. Target practice. Where was Joe? Had he heard my father? I scanned the picture in my mind’s eye. I couldn’t find Joe. Where had he gone? Probably went to take a piss in the woods. We were little boys, after all. We’d thought it great fun to pee anywhere we wanted.

  Yes, I could still hear the words in my father’s authoritative voice. I wasn’t certain he’d ever said the same to me or to Joe. I’d ask Joe, but I already knew the answer.

  He hadn’t said those words to us. Only Justin, as if in some kind of foreshadowing.

  Justin wasn’t going home.

  Justin would be silenced forever.

  My father had already decided.

  Chills skittered down my back and through my legs. What kind of maniac could say something like that to a nine-year-old kid, especially a kid who’d been bullied relentlessly?

  Unless…

  I gulped. Oh my God.

  We’d found Justin’s body, but…

  I squeezed my eyes closed harder, trying, trying, trying…

  Justin was olive-skinned. Probably another reason why I’d thought he had a Spanish surname. I’d seen him go paler when we were showing him the guns, but when we found his body beside the river…

  It wasn’t pale. He looked normal. His lips looked normal.

  If he were dead, his lips would have been blue.

  Was it possible?

  Had Justin survived?

  And if he had, where was he now?

  I frantically dialed Joe.

  “What the hell do you two want?” Larry Wade said.

  I’d accompanied Joe to the prison to see his half uncle. He didn’t look good.

  “Get into a fight?” Joe asked.

  “What the fuck do you care?”

  “I don’t. Serves you right, and it’s still not even a down payment on what you did to my brother and those other kids. I imagine child molesters aren’t looked too favorably upon by other prisoners.”

  Larry said nothing.

  “Today, Uncle Larry,” Joe said, “you’re going to tell us the names of those other two abductors.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’m afraid I’m not.”

  “What the hell do you care? The DA is offering a good deal. And you’re already getting your ass kicked in prison. Look at you.”

  Still, he shook his head. “I can’t. And I won’t.”

  “What if we’re willing to sweeten the pot a little?” I asked.

  “With what? If I walked away from the Steels’ money, what makes you think you have anything to offer me?”

  “My father’s the mayor of Snow Creek. He can talk to the governor. Maybe get you a pardon.”

  Joe turned to me. “What the fuck?” he said through clenched teeth.

  “What’s the problem?” I said. “You want to find out who did this, don’t you?”

  “Not at the expense of letting this asshole free. Hell, no.”

  Larry chuckled. “I can guarantee you one thing, son. Your father won’t do shit for me.”

  “How can you say that?” I asked. “He appointed you as a city attorney when you needed a job.”

  “There were special circumstances there.”

  “Like what?”

  “Confidential special circumstances.”

  “Just as well,” Joe interjected. “Because, Bryce, we’re not letting this asshole out. I don’t care if the president himself wants to pardon him. I will not let it fucking happen. Absolutely not.”

  “Calm down, Joe,” I said. “I didn’t know you would freak out this way.”

  “This scumbag molested my brother. This scumbag molested and killed your cousin.”

  Larry started to speak, but Joe silenced him with a gesture.

  “How could you possibly think I would be okay with getting him pardoned? Not only does he deserve to be in prison for life, but also, what if he got a pardon and then he got out and molested another kid? Maybe your kid?”

  I went cold. “Okay. It was just a thought. My father probably wouldn’t do it anyway.” My dad was a good man. He’d never pardon anyone who didn’t deserve it.

  “That’s for damn sure,” Larry said.

  “Just what in the hell do you have against my father?” I demanded. “He’s been the mayor for over ten years. Before that, he was a prominent attorney in Snow Creek.”

  Silence for a minute. Neither Joe nor Larry responded to me.

  Finally, Joe said, “I have a name, Uncle. Was one of the men Nico Kostas?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Just tell us,” I pleaded. “It will be worth your while. You’ll get a lighter sentence. And Joe has already offered you money for a lawyer.”

  Larry looked intently at me. “Why is it so important for you to learn the truth?”

  “Because Luke Walker was my cousin. Because Talon is Joe’s brother. Because I have a son of my own now, and I would die inside if anything like this ever happened to him. So I want to know the truth. I want to know who those fuckers are so we can get them off the street and they’ll never again hurt innocent children like my son.”

  Larry regarded me, his face stern bu
t unreadable. “Look, I’ve got nothing against you, kid—”

  “Kid? I’m thirty-eight,” I said.

  “To me, you’re a kid.” Larry coughed. “I’m not going to tell you who they are.”

  I stood. “Then Joe and I will find them on our own.”

  Larry curled his lips into a sleazy half smile. “Keep looking if you want to, kid, but let me give you a piece of advice. The truth is overrated. Once you open the door to that dark room, getting out is damn near impossible.”

  “Yeah, I was probably pissing in the woods,” Joe said after I’d relayed my memory to him. “I don’t recall any of that.”

  “Let your mind relax.”

  “You sound like Melanie.”

  “All I can say is that’s when I found it. I was sitting at the kitchen table this morning, staring into space, and the memory just came to me.”

  “I’m not real good at forcing my mind to relax,” he said.

  “I’m not either. It kind of happened by accident, like it did the other time in the hot tub.”

  “Then what makes you think I can do it on demand?”

  “I’m not saying you can. If you don’t remember, you don’t remember. Like you said, you were probably pissing in the woods somewhere.”

  “Why would your dad say that to a kid?”

  “Because he was my dad, Joe. He was fucked up. He probably didn’t think I could hear him. And even if he did, if we’re right and he drugged us, that whole weekend would be lost or fuzzy, which it is.”

  “You think Justin might be alive.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he was drugged, and my dad left him by the river to retrieve him later, only we found him first.”

  “Why would your dad keep him alive, if he…”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t touch him after all. Damn!” I shoved my hand over my forehead and my fingers through my hair. “I want to get into his head, but I don’t want to just as badly.”

  “I know. I get it. But if it helps us to think like he does, we need to try.”

  “Fine for you. You’re not his flesh and blood.”

  “Just because you’re his flesh and blood doesn’t make you him. Remember that.”

  I nodded. I knew that. I truly did.