Butterfly Secrets

by G. L. Blackhouse

  “Oh, God, no, Jackson. I’m glad you got away from here. It has made you a lot of who you are. The parts of you I love. You just don’t know all there is to know about me,” I said, running my finger nervously around the rim of my wine glass.

  “I don’t care what it is, Em. I love you, no matter what. You act like you are a murderer or something,” Jackson joked.

  My heart pounded. I took a huge gulp of my drink.

  Jackson walked over and turned on another Van Morrison song. He put down his wine glass and walked over to me.

  I should have gotten to dance with you back at prom, but since I didn’t get to ask you, I will ask you to dance now,” he said with a smile.

  “Amelia Smith, may I have this dance?” he said, extending his hand and shooting me an earth-shattering smile.

  My stomach did flip flops like a young schoolgirl.

  I nodded, yes.

  I laughed, too. For once when I thought of Jordy, my memories weren’t filled with pain. Jackson helped me to remember the fun times with Jordy.

  I took Jackson’s hand, and we slow danced by candlelight.

  He pulled me close to him.

  As we danced, Jackson would, from time to time, tenderly kiss my head, neck, and shoulders.

  I looked in his magnetic eyes.

  Jackson shot me a seductive smile, took my hand, and led me into his bedroom.

  Jackson and I made love in his bed. When we were finished, he wrapped his arms around me tightly. I lay my head on his chest and ran my fingers across it as we talked. I felt at home with Jackson and safe. The outside world, worry, work, all of it seemed to fade into the background in these intimate moments we shared.

  “I love you, Em. It’s so good to see you happy,” he said, smiling.

  “Thanks. I am happy,” I said with a wide grin.

  “Guess I’d better start buying some groceries for this place if I’m going to be stayin’ here again now that Roy’s gone, and you don’t need me anymore,” Jackson said.

  “I always need you, and I don’t care that Roy is gone. Move-in with me, Jackson. We’ve spent too long apart. I don’t want to wake up another morning without you,” I said, kissing him.

  “I was hopin’ you would say that. I’d follow you to your farmhouse, to Chicago, or to the ends of the earth if that is what you want. I just want to be with you,” he said.

  Jackson held me in his arms for the remainder of the night as I slept.

  I am outside. It is raining again. It is dark out. I can barely see. My hands are shaking. My heart is pounding like crazy. I look around nervously, hoping that no one is watching, especially not Roy. He would beat me to death if anyone knew. I wipe the sweat from my brow and tears from my eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the flash of a shiny belt buckle. My heart stops, certain it is Roy. My shoulders tense and my body stiffens. I look up and see Jackson. He is dressed in Roy’s clothes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This is not how the love story goes. I grab the shovel and pile on more dirt. Jackson walks over to me and shoots me a look of horror. I stare at him, mortified that he knows. His look of shock then turns to disgust. He asks me why I didn’t tell him. I cry and plead that I was afraid if I did, I would lose him. He shakes his head and tells me that I was right; he could never love me now knowing the monster that I am. I grab on to him as he tries to walk away. I remind him that he said he would always love me no matter what. His face suddenly turns into Roy as he shoots me a maniacal laugh and tells me love does not exist for monsters and then he disappears. Still sobbing I look up at the clouds that turn into Grandma May as rain pours on my face. I hear Grandma May’s voice in the thunder as she tells me that Jackson is not who I think he is.

  I awoke in a cold sweat. I looked around the room and then at Jackson, feeling both shock and relief. Jackson wrapped his arms tighter around me.

  “It’s okay. I’m here,” Jackson said as he rubbed my shoulders.

  I nodded, still trying to figure out why Jackson was in my dream. Why was he dressed in Roy’s clothes? After all of this and finally giving my heart away, could it be possible that Jackson was playing me? I reasoned that Jackson is not the type and that if he wanted to manipulate me that he could’ve done that years ago.

  “Roy’s gone. You never have to worry about him,” Jackson assured me as he looked into my eyes.

  I nodded once again, unable to form words. I lay in Jackson’s arms, wondering if this would be the last time he would hold me. I felt a huge pit in my stomach. I wanted to talk about the dream, but I knew that discussing it would bring too many questions that I wasn’t yet prepared to answer.

  I wondered what Grandma May was trying to tell me. Hadn’t she been the one that had brought Jackson and me together? Why would she have me dream of Jackson in Roy’s clothes? I just couldn’t allow myself to believe that Jackson would deceive me in any way. Would he?

  CHAPTER 27- UNHINGED

  Jackson and I finished packing the last of his things and threw them into the Tahoe.

  “There, that should do it,” Jackson said as he threw the last suitcase on top of the Tahoe.

  I looked at him and smiled.

  “I’ll come back later and get my buddy to help me get the heavy stuff and bring back my bike,” he said.

  I held Jackson’s hand as he drove and talked. He looked so happy.

  In just a few minutes, Jackson would be living with me. I would finally be in his arms each night and waking with him every morning. Everything was perfect, but I knew I had to tell him the truth about me. It wasn’t right to let him be part of this lie that I was living. He deserved to know who he would be living with. I felt myself becoming angry as I wondered how he could lie or keep anything a secret from me. But, then, I thought of how I had lied and been keeping this secret from Jackson for weeks now. I wondered if we both were monsters.

  Images of my dream haunted me. I could still feel the cold rain pouring down on me in the dark. I could still feel my hands shaking from holding the shovel as I threw the dirt. I could still feel the gut-wrenching pain in my stomach. It was so long ago. I was only seventeen. I had tried to put it behind me, tried to forget, but a sin like this was unforgettable, unforgivable even. Then there was Jackson. Why was Jackson in my dream? I’d had many dreams and many visions, and I could easily tell which of them were dreams and premonitions. The ones with Grandma May had always had a message. Roy and Jackson were nothing alike. Grandma May was never wrong. But this time I had no clue what she was trying to tell me.

  I looked at Jackson and forced a smile. A feeling of dread washed over me. Jackson shot me a slight grin as I squeezed his hand tightly as though it may be the last time I would hold it. I would make Jackson dinner. I would tell him and let the cards fall where they may. It was time to put it all on the table.

  I thought once again of Grandma’s words. She was right. You can’t hide from the past.

  “Em, you okay? It’s fine. I am here and not going anywhere,” he assured me.

  “Yeah, I’m just sleepy,” I said, hoping that Jackson would believe me.

  Suddenly, Jackson’s phone rang.

  It was the detective that Jackson had hired on the case.

  “Mr. Roderick, I’m in town. It is important that I meet you now. There has been a new development, and I am waiting outside your office as we speak,” the man on the phone said.

  Jackson looked to me as if to ask if I was okay with the change of plans.

  I nodded, yes.

  “Okay, we will be there in a few minutes,” Jackson said over the Tahoe’s Bluetooth.

  “We? I’m not for sure if this kind of information is something that you would want to share with someone else,” the detective said.

  “It’s not just someone. It’s my girlfriend. I have no secrets from her, and besides, she is much stronger than you think,” Jackson assured the detective.

  “I’m fine, Detective, and besides, if it has to do with Roy, I want to be involved. I want him
to pay for what he has done.” I replied.

  “Okay,” the detective reluctantly replied.

  Jackson and I sped to his office. I clutched Jackson’s hand tightly, and my heart raced at the thought of what news the detective may have gotten.

  Maybe he had got information that led to Roy being the cause of not only my mother’s death, but my father’s death as well and Jordy’s, too. Had the detective located Roy’s wife and child? I wondered if they were even alive. Maybe they, too, would get some justice from this, I thought to myself.

  “You okay? You’ve barely spoken a word since the detective called,” Jackson said, concerned.

  “I’m fine, just thinking about Roy and hoping once and for all that we finally get some closure,” I said.

  “Detective Cash is the best. If there is any dirt on Roy that will put him away for a long time, I’m sure Cash has it. He will dig up everything Roy has ever done to anyone. Cash is thorough like that,” Jackson said.

  I squeezed Jackson’s hand and forced a smile.

  I had a feeling something bad was about to happen. I stared out the window of the Tahoe, hoping that I was wrong.

  Jackson and I arrived at his office. A black Jeep with tinted windows was parked outside and quickly flashed its lights at us. Jackson stopped the car, and we got out.

  My heart raced as I wondered what information the detective had discovered.

  A tall, slender man who looked to be in his early forties with a thick mustache and dark skin climbed out of the Jeep with a satchel over his shoulder.

  We all walked to Jackson’s office. Jackson reached to turn on the overhead light, but Cash stopped him and walked towards the back and turned on a lamp at one of the desks instead and motioned for us to have a seat.

  It was obvious that Cash took the detective business very seriously. I wondered if all the secrecy was really necessary.

  “Sorry, it took a while longer to get the information that you wanted. Turns out, Roy is a highly decorated man in the crime area with lots of powerful contacts. He’s got a record that reaches from Florida to Alabama to here in Georgia. At one time or another, he has been involved in everything from small-town marijuana sales to cocaine. It seems people have a way of accidentally dying when he’s around, too,” the detective explained.

  My stomach felt queasy as I thought of all of the people that Roy probably hurt or even killed along the way.

  Detective Cash laid out pictures of Roy talking with men in suits, policemen, and even the town mayor.

  “How has he gotten away with all of it?” I asked nervously as I looked at picture after picture.

  “Luck, power, and money. Knowing how to make a dollar and not caring who gets hurt in the end. Paying off people to look the other way,” Detective Cash replied.

  “So, what about Em’s mama, daddy, and sister? Can you link Roy to their deaths?”

  “Take a look at this,” Cash said, sliding an envelope across the desk.

  I reached for the envelope.

  “I’ll warn you, they’re pretty graphic and of your mother,” Detective Cash said apologetically.

  I felt my stomach knot up as he spoke.

  “You don’t have to look at them, Em,” Jackson said as he took my hand in his and squeezed it.

  “There’s really no need to. Basically, the coroner’s report indicates that there was a brain hemorrhage before Jenny died and that although she was still alive while in the water, drowning wasn’t what killed her. It was a blunt force trauma to her head,” Detective Cash replied.

  I began to cry as I thought of my mother.

  “It’s okay, Em.” Jackson said, putting his arm around me to comfort me.

  “Thanks, Detective Cash, for stopping by. I can look at the rest later. Looks as though we have enough to convict Roy, and that is all that we need,” Jackson said.

  “I’m afraid there’s more. While I was investigating Roy and his family in Alabama, I found out some surprising news.” Detective Cash said.

  “You got something to put him away for the death of his wife and son, too?” I asked, hopefully.

  Detective Cash sighed, “That’s the thing.” Detective Cash pulled out another sealed manila envelope and slid it across the table to Jackson.

  “Sometimes, I find more than I bargained for. You don’t have to read what’s inside that envelope if you don’t want to. I can rip it up, and no one will ever be the wiser. We already have enough to put Roy away for a long time,” Detective Cash pleaded.

  My heart raced at the thought of what was inside the envelope. The gnawing feeling that began in the car got worse.

  “No, I want to know,” Jackson said.

  The detective sighed as he spoke, “I must warn you that the information inside will more than likely be hard to take for both of you.”

  I gave the detective a puzzled look, wondering what information would be difficult for both Jackson and me.

  Jackson took the envelope and carefully opened it.

  Jackson’s confident expression quickly turned to one of horror as he flipped through page after page of the envelope’s contents.

  “Are you sure that this is correct?” he asked, uncharacteristically struggling to find his words.

  “Yes, afraid so. I triple checked the facts. It is what took me so long. Sorry, Jackson,” Detective Cash said apologetically.

  Jackson nodded as tears formed in his eyes, and he looked over at me with a pained expression.

  “No! This can’t be true! Roy will pay, Em. I promise,” Jackson said as he threw down the letter, ran out the door and slammed it behind him.

  My heart felt as though it had been ripped from my chest as I wondered what information could be so disturbing to Jackson that he would react in that way. Panic tore through me. I wondered if Detective Cash had somehow uncovered my secret.

  The detective ran behind him, but Jackson had already sped off.

  I wanted to run after Jackson, too, but I didn’t have the strength to move. I was in shock.

  My hands shook, and my head started to hurt as a quick pain shot across my chest. I was frozen in my chair as the scene of Jackson running off played like some movie in my head.

  I managed to finally pick up the letter that Jackson had thrown to the floor.

  Inside was a marriage certificate that belonged to Roy and Bonnie P. Jones. There also was a birth certificate for their son, Roy Robert Jones. I flipped on through the pages. Another document showed where Bonnie P. Jones had changed her name to Janice Roderick and changed her son’s name to Jackson Dean Roderick. My heart pounded. It was like a bad dream. I numbly flipped through the next pages as I read accounts of how Jackson and his mom had been placed under witness protection and had finally moved in with Jackson’s grandmother years later, in Lancaster. Jackson was only an infant when his mother left Roy. It was now obvious why Roy had moved to Lancaster; it was to find Jackson and his mom. My mother, father, and Jordy had only been pawns in Roy’s plan. Jackson was Roy’s son. My heart felt as though it was going to burst from my chest. It didn’t even seem possible, but it was there right in front of me in black and white. Suddenly, my dream of Jackson dressed in Roy’s clothes made sense. But Jackson was nothing like Roy. Nothing whatsoever. Jackson was a kind and considerate man, not a ruthless killer. Roy might have fathered Jackson, but that was the end of their connection.

  My stomach turned as I thought of Jackson’s sweet mama with her cane. I was certain that Roy must have done that to her, beat her just like he did my mama. I was thankful that the documents showed that Jackson’s mama had left Roy before Jackson got to know him. I shuddered to think at the type of man Jackson might have been if they had stayed. Suddenly, it all made sense why Jackson had to move away as a teen. It wasn’t because of me or Jimmy. His mama had sent him away to protect him from Roy.

  Suddenly, reality hit, and Jackson’s words rang through my head.

  “Don’t worry, Em. I’ll make Roy pay.” They played over and
over in my head.

  All those years of hurt and not knowing his father.

  I shuddered as the gnawing grew stronger in my stomach. Images of Jackson lying dead flashed through my brain. Roy wouldn’t care if Jackson was his son. If Jackson came after him, Roy would kill Jackson plain and simple.

  I had to find Jackson before it was too late. I couldn’t allow Jackson to end up like Mama, but I had no idea where to look.

  CHAPTER 28- EXPOSED

  I finally reached Julie, and she took me home before going back to work. I hoped that Jackson would be there.

  I walked into the house. The house was lit with candles. A soft glow radiated throughout the house. Rose petals were on the stairs and in the kitchen.

  Van Morrison, Jackson’s favorite, was playing on the stereo.

  Jackson had come to his senses and come back home.

  Maybe he had realized that it wasn’t worth it.

  Strangely, I didn’t hear Tiny. I reasoned that Jackson had her.

  “Jackson!” I said excitedly as I raced through the house looking for him.

  I ran into the hallway towards the kitchen.

  Suddenly, I felt the force of two hands on my face.

  “Oh! Jackson, that is a little rough,” I said, taken off guard.

  “Hello, Lil Em?” a familiar voice said.

  Cold chills ran down my spine. It couldn’t be. I could smell the scent of liquor and cigars coming from his breath.

  Suddenly, I felt myself being slung to the floor of the kitchen. I rubbed my head and looked up. Roy was standing over top of me, just like in my dream.

  “It can’t be. You are supposed to be in jail. Where’s Jackson?” I asked, horrified, still lying on the floor. Had Jackson gone to meet Roy, and Roy had killed him?

  “You're as stupid as you look. Did you really think that I would stay in jail? I rule this town. When you gonna learn that?” Roy said, as he kicked me in the side.

  “Where’s Jackson?” I asked again as my blood boiled with rage.

  “We’ll talk about him later,” Roy said with a maniacal smile.