by Alice Sabo
Jeff glanced over, a designing glint in his eyes. “I know a great place, but it’s kind of expensive.”
“My treat,” Asher said. Expensive was relative. He doubted that anywhere in North Carolina could come close to Hollywood expensive. And this proved to be the perfect distraction for Jeff.
Jeff took him to a place in Left Fork called Lily’s. It looked like a typical greasy spoon from the outside. Inside the theme was yellow gingham. The cloths on the dozen tables and the curtains matched a border that ran along the walls below the ceiling. Everything else was done in yellow and white.
The waitress winked at Jeff. He was grinning ear to ear as he opened the thick menu.
Asher flipped through page after page of offerings. “Can they actually do all this?” he asked.
Jeff got a dreamy look on his face. “Lily can do anything.”
Asher put the menu down. “Why don’t you order for me?”
Jeff’s eyes lit up. “Honest?”
“Go for it.”
After Jeff had ordered a tremendous amount of food, an awkward silence settled between them. Asher examined the artwork on the walls. All the pictures looked like they’d been cut out of calendars and fitted into frames from the drug store. Seemed that Lily spent her money on the cooking, not the decor.
Jeff shifted uneasily in his chair. “Sorry I got mad at you” he said in a very unapologetic tone.
“Not a problem. Listen, kid, if you need to get something off your chest, say it. I got more skeletons in the closet than most. And believe me, you cannot shock me with anything. I got chased around an alley by a drug-crazed lunatic who was shooting at me. In the real world.” Asher felt a bump of adrenaline that was half fear and half grief as he thought about what had happened in that alley. Luckily, the injuries had blurred most of his memories.
“Whoa.” Jeff’s eyes widened. Then he winked. “Did ya’ kill him?” he asked lightly.
Asher swallowed. “Yes. I did.”
“Oh.”
Appetizers arrived in the nick of time. Asher focused his attention on the food to avoid the memories. He still had nightmares about that day. “So what in particular pissed you off today?”
“Uncle Erwin owns everything now, and it sucks.”
“Now?”
“Since Dad passed.”
That seemed totally wrong to Asher. “Erwin is your dad’s brother?”
“Yeah.”
“What did your dad do?”
“He started Hilltop.”
“The stables?” Asher asked, his voice a little louder than he intended.
“Yeah.”
That explained why Jeff was so reluctant to go up there. Asher had inadvertently forced him to face his losses. But it didn’t add up. “And when he died it all went to Erwin?”
“Yeah.”
“That seems strange,” Asher said.
Jeff frowned at him with a mouthful of fig stuffed with gorgonzola. “Why?”
“How old were you when he died?”
“Fourteen.”
“Did you attend the reading of the will?”
Jeff cocked his head to one side. “Mom sent me and Jo to Great-Aunt Nora’s for a couple weeks. Maybe a month. Everything was done when we got back. Dad died real sudden. Stroke, I think.”
That statement struck Asher as even odder. “You don’t know what your father died of?”
Jeff blinked at him, before getting a thoughtful expression on his face. “That’s weird. I never thought about it. I was so mad when he died. And then I just really missed him. So I didn’t think about how he was gone, just that he was gone. And we had to move down to the trailer because we didn’t own the stables anymore.”
Asher cursed himself for bringing Jeff up to Hilltop. No wonder it upset him. To have grown up there with the horses and then lose his father and his home in a matter of weeks must have been terribly traumatic. “I’m so sorry about the stables.”
Jeff bobbed his head in acknowledgment, his mouth tight in a thin, hurt line. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.” Jeff took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky sigh. “I didn’t want to do that. I never have. Even when Dad was alive, and he was always talking about how I’d have the place to run my way after him.” Jeff bit his lip, tears shining bright in his eyes. He continued in a soft voice. “I didn’t want to.”
Asher saw the kitchen door open. “You wanted to be a chef.” He gestured. “Tell me about this interesting food I’m about to eat.”
Jeff turned around to smile at the waitress. “This is going to be good.”
Chapter 22
The sun was below the treetops throwing long shadows and brilliant bars of light across the road when Jeff dropped Asher off at the Kozy Kottages. He had gotten to know Jeff a little better and learned some more about the history of the area. He was glad to see that Jeff was in a better frame of mind, but Asher still worried about him. There were questions about his father’s death that Jeff had never asked at the time. Now they felt urgent, and he didn’t know where to get the answers. Asher waited on the cottage’s tiny porch, watching Jeff go down the unpaved driveway. Mrs. Wheatly came out of the empty cottage next door, broom in hand, and waved.
“Everything all right?” she asked as she wandered over.
“Not sure. We found another body today. I think the sheriff is getting suspicious of us.”
“Oh, it isn’t another body, dear.” She patted his arm. “It’s the rest of the one you found in the woods.”
A prickling broke out all over Asher’s body. “How is that possible? Could coyotes have dragged it away?”
“Coyotes?” Mrs. Wheatly’s mouth curled in a smile that had a touch of scorn to it. “No dear, we don’t have that many around here. And I can’t imagine how they’d drag it so far away. And leave it in Erwin’s field? That’s mighty strange. Most likely certain people were involved there.”
“Jeff was worried about his Aunt Sue.” Asher said, hoping for a reaction.
Mrs. Wheatly barked a hearty laugh. “Oh Lord, Sue can take care of herself. If anything, I’d suspect her of dragging it up there. She’s not all that right in the head.”
“Jeff said she was different.”
“Well, that was a kind way of putting it.” Mrs. Wheatly shook her head. “It does seem like the sort of thing she’d do. Not sure why she’d want to be scaring Erwin, though. He takes care of her, out there on Black Pond, all by herself. I’m surprised she didn’t put it on Jenkins’s land. To stir up some trouble, you know. There’s been bad feelings between Cahills and Jenkins for years now.
“Why would she want to stir up trouble with them?”
Mrs. Wheatly got a gleam in her eyes. “Oh, this goes back a long while. It all began with Tom Cahill and Joe Jenkins when they started up that mine back in the 1930s. That generation got along well enough. That’d be Jeff’s great-grandfather. Best of friends, they say. After he and Joe passed, things got nasty. Then Jeff’s granddaddy killed Joe Jr. and his boy William when he blew up the mine.”
Asher regarded her with astonishment, unsure what to do with that information. “Why did he blow it up?”
“Because he wanted it all to his own self. They were making a lot of money outta that mine. Money’ll make enemies outta anybody, but most especially friends.”
“What kind of mine was it?”
“Gems, of course. Pulled some big rubies out of there.”
“Rubies?” Asher was intrigued.
“Oh, yes. They found a vein or something. Fought day and night over how to split it up. And I mean fists and bloody noses. Threats and yelling in town whenever they saw one another. Everybody knew something big was going to happen. Joe Jr. was sneaking in there at night and stealing them. That’s what I heard. That’s why Mike, Jeff’s granddaddy, set up some kind of bomb. Would only go off if somebody disturbed it during the night.”
“And they died?”
“Took down the whole mine, rubies and all.” She shook her hea
d sadly. “I know that’s not what he intended. He was greedy, but he wasn’t a killer. But they were all fools. Now it’s unstable, and who knows if they’ll ever be able to open it up again.”
“Huh.” Asher nodded at her as she started towards the big house. That didn’t answer all his questions. In fact, it just added more peculiar facts into the mix. “Mrs. Wheatly?” he called after her. She turned back, looking impatient. “Do you know how Jeff’s father died?”
“Oh, that was dreadful. Horse kicked him in the head. He loved those animals. So brutal that they were the ones to kill him.” She gave a wave as she turned, continuing across to the main house.
Asher flinched. He wondered if the locals had rules about discussing death. Perhaps it was a kindness not to tell the kids all the ugly details of how their father died. And this information would make a new reason for Jeff not to want to go up to the stables. With that complication added to the mix, he started into his cottage.
“Asher!”
He looked back to see Bunny and Oscar coming across the driveway. “Hey.” He waited at the door for them.
“What is going on?” Bunny demanded. “George said he found a body, and you took off.”
Asher saw the possibility for misconceptions brewing. He took a breath and thought about his response before speaking. “No. George found a body, and I took Jeff out to lunch.” He opened the door and waved them in. “Care for some coffee?”
“Not if you brew it,” Bunny said tartly. They crowded into his tiny kitchen. Oscar and Asher sat while Bunny made coffee. “Why did you leave?”
“The way George looked. He was practically green. And there was somebody down there puking. I didn’t want to go over there. I’d already seen a bad one. And I didn’t think Jeff should get a look at it either. That kind of thing gives you nightmares.”
Bunny softened a little. “Well, that was thoughtful of you to take Jeff out of there.” He rummaged through the cabinets, then moved on to the refrigerator.
“Jeff was already pissed at me for taking him up to the stables,” Asher added.
“Why?” Oscar asked.
“Apparently his family used to own it.”
“What happened?” Oscar asked.
“That’s not clear. Seems like after his dad died they lost all their land.”
“Asher, are you saving this for something?” Bunny asked, holding out a loaf of banana bread covered with plastic wrap.
“Where’d you find that?”
“Back of the fridge. Okay if I cut it up?”
“Be my guest.” Asher wondered what else might be in the fridge that he didn’t know about. He hadn’t had a chance to check on the groceries he’d requested the other day. And considering the sophistication of the lunch Jeff had ordered, there might be some interesting surprises in there.
“So why did they lose it all? Medical bills?” Oscar asked. He shifted his weight with a slight grunt and a grimace. Asher felt gratified to see that Oscar had a few aches from the accident.
Bunny handed out plates with thick slices of bread, napkins and forks. Then he put mugs out, collected the milk carton and box of sugar and set them all on the small table.
Asher smoothed his napkin across his lap. “I found out from Mrs. Wheatly that he died after a horse kicked him in the head.”
“No bills for that,” Bunny mumbled sourly. “Only the funeral.”
“I think something screwy is going on,” Asher said.
“Do not get yourself involved in some local dispute,” Bunny said firmly. He poured coffee for each of them before finally seating himself next to Oscar. The table was large enough for four, but that would have been a tight squeeze in the compact kitchen.
“It doesn’t seem fair,” Asher said fixing his coffee. “Jeff thinks that when his dad died four years ago, he left everything to his brother and nothing to his wife and kids.”
“That does seem odd,” Oscar agreed, before digging into the banana bread.
“Maybe he died without a will,” Bunny offered.
Asher poked the dessert. It smelled heavenly, but he was stuffed from the lunch they’d eaten. “I asked Jeff about a will, but he said he was shipped off to relatives. Didn’t even attend the funeral.”
“Oh, that’s wrong,” Bunny said waving a fork at him. “A boy needs to grieve.”
“I’m figuring that’s what pushed Alma off the edge.”
“No,” Bunny shook his head. “She’s been using longer than that.”
Asher peered at Bunny. “Why do you say that?”
“Honey, have you taken a good gander at her? Her skin, her hair? She’s not long for this world. Too much damage done there.”
“But Jeff and Jo are good kids. She can’t have been off the rails too much longer.”
Bunny tipped his head in thought. “Must have had a strong dad. I know what I see, Ash. She’s fragile. I don’t think she’s got much memory left. I saw her with Jo the other day, and she didn’t know who I was. I think the kids have to keep track of her.”
“That’s sad,” Asher said, staring into his coffee. He wanted his kids to be proud of him, glad to know him, not burdened with the care of a feeble-minded husk. He made a vow that he would never do anything like that to Thomas and Sharon. It was the strongest incentive to stay sober that he’d ever had. Then he thought about what life must be like for Jeff. As the oldest, he must have been taking care of his mother and his sister since the young age of fourteen.
“So do they know who it is?” Oscar asked.
Asher surfaced from his thoughts. “Who, what?”
“The body,” Bunny said. He leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “Do they know who it is?”
“I don’t know,” Asher said, goose bumps rising along his arms. “I split. Mrs. Wheatly is the one who told me it was the body I saw.”
“How do they know?” Oscar asked.
“Uh, missing a foot?” Asher suggested.
“But it’s days old—”
“Do not go there, Oscar Hardy!” Bunny cut him off. “That is not table talk.”
Asher sighed over his coffee. “I hope it isn’t the driver. . .”
“Brent,” Bunny supplied the name. “I’ve been asking around. Nobody in the crew knew him very well. He was new to the area. Only been on the job for a month.”
Asher hung his head. “God, I hope it isn’t him.”
“Not your fault, Asher,” Oscar said.
“I know. But, man, I hate it when kids get killed.”
“He was twenty-five, not a kid,” Bunny said.
“Is,” Asher corrected. “Until we know, Brent could still be alive.” That seemed to put a damper on the conversation. Bunny stacked the dishes in the sink before they left. Asher tidied the kitchen and washed up the plates and cups. It helped him think while his hands were busy doing mundane tasks. However, it didn’t clear his mind. He still had a hundred questions swirling around in his head when he called Ellie.
Chapter 23
The next morning there was a knock on the door while Asher was getting out of the shower. Assuming it was Jeff, to take him to physical therapy, he answered the door in a towel. It was Jeff, but Jo was with him. She gave him a thorough look before turning bright red and locking her eyes on the floor.
Oblivious to his sister’s shock, Jeff bulled in the door, speaking as though they had started the conversation already. “I asked Ma about Dad, but she doesn’t remember.”
“Make coffee. I’ll get dressed,” Asher said firmly. He wasn’t ready to solve puzzles yet. Especially not without pants. And most especially not pantless with an underage girl in the room. He could almost hear his agent, Denny, screaming about jailbait and blackmailers. It made him glance out the window to be sure that there weren’t any reporters in the driveway. Assured he wouldn’t be on the six o’clock news, he stomped off to the bedroom. This day had gotten off to a very bad start.
“It’s the drugs,” Jeff yelled at Asher’s back.
“Messes with your memory,” Asher agreed in a grumble. He had more than a few holes in his memory. Luckily, his vices had not caused permanent damage the way Alma’s had. He dressed quickly in jeans and a sweatshirt. All he had on his agenda was physical therapy, a visit to the horses and a fitting with Bunny, nothing that demanded a fashion statement. He brushed out his long hair to let it dry on its own.
Jeff was pouring coffee for him when he got to the kitchen. “Good lad.” Asher sipped the scalding liquid gratefully. Jo sat at the table hugging a notebook, still a little pink in the face.
“Want me to cook?” Jeff asked with a twinkle in his eye that made Asher agree. He was convinced that Jeff had chosen the perfect career. The boy was obsessed with food.
“Here’s the schedule for today.” Asher laid his list on the table. He’d begged some paper from Bunny as all his supplies were still in Oscar’s crumpled truck. “I don’t want to be late for any of the appointments. So plan accordingly.”
Jeff tapped an entry. “Carrots for Darby isn’t an appointment,” he teased.
“That is a very important appointment. I will be spending a lot of time with that horse. We need to make friends fast.”
“He’s a beautiful horse. Dad would have been over the moon with an animal like that,” Jeff said as he started pulling out pans and ingredients.
Asher worried that he would gain weight with all this rich food. He wasn’t working hard enough to allow himself to eat this much. He had been swimming regularly at home, and chasing after the kids. He hadn’t even done any Tai Chi since he arrived. “How about just eggs and toast today? I’m still full from last night.”
“Sure. I can do that.” Jeff put a fat slice of butter in the hot skillet.
The aroma filled the small room making Asher salivate. He immediately regretted not asking for biscuits. He caught Jo giving the stove a wistful glance. “Have you kids eaten? Jeff, cook up enough for everybody.”
“Will do!” Jeff said cheerfully.
Jo seemed a bit skittish this morning, and he didn’t think it was all because she saw a little too much of him. The taboo bits had been adequately covered, and he knew from Ellie’s assessment that he had nothing to be ashamed of in the swimsuit competition. However, Jo was probably a little shaken to see a man old enough to be her father in a towel. And that thought gave him a thread of worry about the movie. Was he too old for this part? It was meant to be a big summer blockbuster. If he didn’t have enough appeal, the studio might demand the lead be recast. He looked at her and reassessed her reaction. She’d blushed at the sight of him, not shuddered in revulsion. Maybe he wasn’t too old. She was still hugging her notebook. “What have you got there, Jo?” Asher asked gently.
