Raine's Haven

by Shari J. Ryan

  "How does this all work? Do you know?" I ask her. "Are we just getting some kind of check today, or is there a process? I don't know a thing about this," I tell her, feeling just as nervous.

  "I don't know either, honey. We'll see."

  "Mama, that man is bad," Lauren says, walking through the door I'm holding open.

  "I'm genuinely afraid you're right, Lauren," she says. "But we must give him the benefit of the doubt."

  We have spoken to Mr. Leigh several times over the phone in the past few weeks, planning for this meeting to discuss Granddad's will and everything that comes along with it. However, the things Mr. Leigh was saying didn't match up with what Granddad told me when he found out he was dying. He died only a few weeks later from a stroke, so if there was something he wanted to say, maybe he just waited too long. But, I truly don’t think that’s the case. He was a prepared kind of man, always had his ducks in a row.

  Lenore knocks on the tattered, wooden office door with Mr. Leigh's name etched into the fake golden plaque hanging at a crooked angle. If that’s not symbolic, I don’t know what is.

  I glance over at Lauren, whose lips are pursed with anger, and her eyes are narrowed in on the door as if she were ready to assault it. Placing my arm around her back, I pull her in for a hug. "We'll get this all sorted out," I tell her. Granddad told Lenore and Lauren that he was leaving the two of them a third of everything he owned. The rest was to go to me. Lenore was finally going to get her own house and send Lauren to the Special Ed art school that just opened a couple of towns over from us. She's been talking about it non-stop for over a month, and it's the first thing she's truly ever gotten excited about. Granddad would have sent her on his own if he were still here, but he's not.

  After a long minute of waiting for Mr. Leigh to open his door, we're finally welcomed into his office, which is probably smaller than an average size bathroom. It's hot and stuffy as we pile in.

  I offer Lenore and Lauren the two available chairs as I take my spot behind them. Lenore's leg is shaking as she folds it over the other. Her hands clasp on top of her knee, and the whites of her knuckles glow through her thin skin. I place my hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down, but it's useless while we all look at the smugness lining Mr. Leigh's face.

  "How are y’all doing today?" he asks.

  "We're just fine," Lenore says before I can get a word out. "Let's get on with it now, shall we? I don't have much time today."

  Mr. Leigh's lips curl into a menacing type of smile as he peers down at the folder he has clenched within his grip. He pulls in a loud inhale through his nose and drops the folder on his desk. The papers inside of the folder slither out of the opening, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He opens the folder and drags the pad of his finger down the length of his tongue before flipping through some of the paperwork. "Your granddad was a good man, Raine. Just remember that." I've had a bad feeling. I tried to keep it to myself, but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep it inside. "It turns out, your granddad accrued a lot of debt over the last ten years, and his taxes were all completely out of order. There's no good way to really say this, but unfortunately, he owes the state about four million dollars in back taxes and debt."

  "No way," I spit out. "Granddad was a stickler with finances. Not once did he ever pay a bill late. He once drove down to a company he owed money to because the postal service might have taken a day too long. You're lying."

  "Raine," Lenore says, hushing me with just the tone in which she said my name. "What exactly are you saying, Mr. Leigh?"

  "I'm saying, you won't be receiving the lump sum you may have been expecting."

  "What's left after all is said and done?" Lenore asks, pointedly.

  Mr. Leigh thumbs through the papers, appearing to make himself look busy as he nods his head with fake disappointment clouding his eyes. "I mean, it looks like when everything is settled, Raine will end up with about fifteen-hundred dollars and you will receive approximately five-hundred."

  "There's no way," I say again, louder, more confident this time. "You're a liar, Mr. Leigh."

  "It's all right here, Raine, clear as day, son. I'm not sure what else I can say to make this better. I know this isn't what you were expecting to hear today, but you'll understand someday that life isn't the bowl of cherries your granddad led you to believe it was."

  I walk out of the office, letting the door fly into the wall while I make my way outside as fast as I can, needing more air than I'll be able to take in. I pace around the front grass-covered area while tugging at the roots of my hair. There's no way. He would have told us. He'd never try to get away with something like that.

  During one of my pacing strides, I see Lenore through the glass door, struggling to drag Lauren away from Mr. Leigh's office. I run to help her, clutching Lauren into my embrace as I walk her outside. "It's okay. We're going to be okay." But really, in no way are we going to be okay.

  "He's a liar," Lauren shouts through her now hoarse voice. "He's a liar. He's a bad man, mama. I told you, he's a bad man."

  Lenore has tears in her eyes as she's staring up at the sky, probably asking Granddad the same question I was just asking him. After a few minutes, Lenore collects herself and places an arm around both Lauren and me as we silently walk back to the car.

  There's one thing Mr. Leigh never thought much about, and that's the fact that I can't let things go. I am just like my granddad and I like to overanalyze, study, research, and figure out puzzles and mysteries just like he did. It's an area I've greatly excelled at. If he's pulling a fast one on us, he won't get away with it.

  Haven is staring at me with wide eyes, waiting for an explanation I should have been honest about when we first became friends. Not that honesty was an actual thing between us, but I should have tried harder. As the pink in her cheeks melts into a pool of whiteness, I take a pausing breath and release the pent-up words from my mouth, "I am the person your dad stole the money from."

  I didn't think her face could turn any whiter, but I was wrong. She slowly pulls her hands out of mine and covers her mouth. Shock doesn't begin to describe the look in her eyes. "Four million dollars?" she asks.

  "My granddad was the previous owner of your parents' house. Your dad was our gardener for years, and my granddad wanted to help him. From what I've been told, he put your father through law school. Your father ended up being the attorney who oversaw his will. Except, when I went to meet with your father shortly after my granddad passed away, he told me every dime was going to a debt I was unaware of. Less than four weeks later, you and your family moved into my granddad's house—my house." Apologetic tears are in Haven's eyes, and I don't want her to take the blame for what her father did, but there's no other way to say all of this.

  "I—" She gasps. Maybe she's slowly piecing all of this together. "Oh my God. Oh, my God! How could you not have told me any of this?”

  I let her get it all out of her system, knowing there is going to be legitimate anger upon learning that I had this information all along. "I don't know," I tell her. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't get myself to say it."

  "I just can't understand why you didn't trust me enough to tell me," she continues.

  "Really?" I say with haste. "You're asking me why I lied when you were lying to me too?"

  Haven stands up from the bed and paces the room a few times before facing me. "I don't even know what to say…that's why you dropped out of high school and…you started stealing from the local shops? That's why you were homeless…"

  "I was hungry, and I needed to find work so I could help support Lenore and Lauren, which meant I couldn't go to school anymore."

  "Who are Lenore and Lauren?" she cries out, scratching her nails down the sides of her cheeks. The time we spent together in the past consisted mostly of me learning about her, finding more dirt on the mayor, and keeping all of my demons to myself in fear of revealing my secrets to the daughter of the man who ruined everything in my life.

 
"Lenore had been our housekeeper since I was two. They became family, but our situation was unique as she stayed on Granddad's salary even when she and her daughter, Lauren, moved in with us when I was around twelve. Anyway, Granddad left all his assets to the three of us, but we basically got none of it," I explain.

  "Well, where are they now? Lenore and Lauren."

  I huff a nervous laugh through my nose. "I have no idea. The homeless shelter in the center of town is gone now, as I learned the day I got out of prison, and I have no way of finding them at this point."

  "Crap! Raine," she shouts. "My dad did this to you. He destroyed your life."

  "Yeah, he did," I tell her, calmly.

  "I'm going to help you," Haven says.

  "How?" I hate to remind her that she's in the same kind of shape I'm in now.

  "I don't know how yet, but we're going to get your money back. I'll help you find Lenore and Lauren. I'm going to help you fix all of this, Raine."

  I'm stifling the laughter threatening to erupt. There's nothing Haven or anyone can do. "Haven, I appreciate the offer, but I'm a realist, and I know there isn't much to be done now."

  Haven looks down to her fidgeting fingers as she plucks at a thread from the tattered comforter. "I've been held back for years. I've been a puppet for everyone who has claimed to love me. I have kept my mouth shut in fear of acting out of sorts for the person I represent, but do you know who I truly am inside? The woman who has been beating the inside of my body senseless with a baseball bat trying to break free?"

  "I may be scared to answer this question," I say, offering a small smile.

  "First, I'm just going to let you know that I will skip over the part where I should be angry as hell at you for lying to me or keeping this secret all this time since…I deserve it. Second, I won't even tell you we're even, only because I was dumb enough to get caught in my lie. Clearly, you're a little smarter than I am. Third, my dad messed with the wrong person. When love is no longer involved in a matter, it becomes easier to do what needs to be done. And I don't love my father. Whether I'm supposed to or not, he has made it impossible."

  The pinkness that had left her cheeks moments ago is returning now, quickly evolving into a dark scarlet hue. Haven stops pacing and makes her way over to the door without saying another word. I thought I was scared a minute ago, but now I'm more than a little concerned.

  I step into my shoes and grab the key to the room before following Haven down the concrete steps. We walk in silence for several minutes, but I'm watching thoughts pass through her almost faster than the steps she's taking. "Haven," I call ahead to her.

  "Come on," she says.

  "Can you fill me in on what you're about to do?" I grab her by the elbow, stopping her from her fast pace. "Come on, you need to calm down for a minute."

  She laughs, a laugh I've never heard from her. "No. I don't have to calm down for a minute. For twelve years, I have felt guilty for what my father has done, and I didn't even know who the hell he did it too. Now I know, he did it to the one person I have ever truly cared about, and he's going to pay." She releases a shuddered breath and pulls her arm from my grip.

  "I just think we should plan this out—whatever you want to do—before we do it." I don't want to end up back in prison.

  "So, my dad knows you are the person he stole from?" she asks.

  "Yes," I respond, simply. Though, there is nothing simple about this.

  "Why were you working for him as our gardener?" she asks, continuing to walk ahead of me.

  "He felt sorry for me, offered the job, thinking I wasn't on to him, but just in need of any kind of work since no one would hire me around here without a diploma. But, I was on to him. He didn't know I had called the state to follow up on the debt your father accused my granddad of owing. It was all false information, but your father had already become a wealthy, well-known man with my money, and he was untouchable by a young, homeless, starving kid. A few years full of rage passed before my need for vendetta grew to a point where I had inappropriate thoughts of spying on him—waiting to find information to blackmail him with." Realizing how stupid my plan was, I digress for a moment. "I was dumb enough to think I could win it all back if there was just a little proof to prove my case, and mowing your lawn was the closest I could get to watching him."

  Haven finally stops walking and turns around. "He must have known about us," she says. "That day I got you the second job, working for him…"

  "He asked me if you and I were dating," I interrupt her.

  The lines on Haven’s forehead deepen with concern. "He did? What did you say?"

  "I didn't say anything," I tell her. "Your father told me if I wanted to date you, I had his permission. He told me you were lonely and could use a friend, that no one else would give you the time of day. He told me you cried yourself to sleep at night." I can see by the look on her face that there may have been some truth to what her father was saying, but I'm more aware now of everything being a setup.

  Haven presses the palm of her hand up against her forehead. "I found out my dad had the house under surveillance the night he and my mother were going out of town," she says, clarifying every assumption I had.

  I was too close for comfort for that man. Allowing me to work for him gave him an advantage to find a way to get rid of me. The whole time, I thought I was finding a way to exploit him, but the rich and powerful always win. I should have known better. Lenore begged me to stay away from Frederick, but I couldn't because my anger got the best of me, and I was weak. So weak, I gave him exactly what he wanted.

  Haven picks up her pace again, leading us to the center of Main Street and up to the town hall. "No. I'm not going in there," I tell her.

  "Okay," she says. "Wait out here then."

  "What are you going to do?" I ask her, fearful that her anger is completely out of control, understandably or not.

  An unsettling smile perks up at the corner of her lips. "Don't worry," she says.

  "That's exactly why I am worried. Haven, you have to listen to me. Seriously, one wrong move could put me right back into prison."

  Her shoulders slump forward in defeat as if she's actually hearing me this time and she takes a seat on the bench in front of the town hall, falling heavily against the curved wooden backing. "We need proof," she says.

  "I have no access to evidence," I tell her. He has probably burnt every piece of evidence possible. The man is apparently smart enough to embezzle four million dollars without drawing any attention to himself, so I can’t put much past him.

  "Well, I do have access," Haven says.

  26

  Haven

  I'm not sure I've ever felt so many emotions at one time. Anger is the one topping them all, though. I have been angry with Dad all of these years, disgusted at the person he became, but never could I have imagined he would do this to an innocent person. Without a care in the world, he ripped Raine's life away, leaving him with nothing. I wonder how much Mom knows. Could she possibly go along with Dad stealing from an innocent man? Actually, a kid, he wasn't even a man then.

  While we walk down the street side by side, whispers grow louder as people take note of who I'm walking with. They are staring at us, shaking their heads with shame, or maybe worry. I want to scream at them, tell each one what kind of monster is running this town. How could no one know? Dad has slowly kicked every lower-middle-class person out of this town over the past decade, raising the taxes to an unaffordable rate. Water, sewer, electric, phone, cable, internet—everything is priced three times as high as any surrounding town. All Dad ever wanted was to live in a high-class, upstanding-citizen type of town. He's got it. Ironically, he is the only one who is not an upstanding citizen. He’s a liar and a thief. Everyone else here walks around with their noses pointed to the sky. There is not a speck of trash to be seen. There are no homeless people. There are no shelters for the abused or poor. We are a model town that every rich-want-to-be in the surrounding area strives to be a pa
rt of. Here I am in the midst of it all…I've had the wool pulled over my eyes. I've conformed, and I've shut my beliefs off just to survive here without stepping out of turn and embarrassing my family.

  I should have left like I planned to do. I should have disowned my family like they deserve. I should have tried to force Dad to right his wrongs. Instead, I let him talk down to me, point a finger, and tell me he's in charge. His rules are the only rules that matter.

  Well, not anymore.

  I take Raine's arm, veering off the sidewalk toward the small pond in the park. We need to be alone. The looks from everyone around us are causing a pit to form in my stomach, and I know it's only a matter of time before Dad hears who I've been seen with. He probably already knows. I'm convinced Bennett ran to him, and God knows Dad will take Bennett's side over mine. "So, what's this great plan of yours?" Raine asks me as we sit down on the bench overlooking the water.

  "I need some time to plan it out," I tell him. Right now, my only plan is to rip Dad's office into pieces until I find proof.

  "You're probably not going to find much, you know," Raine says, resting his arm on the rim of the bench and behind my shoulders.

  "I have to try, though," I tell him. I realize Dad is good at covering his tracks, but I also know he doesn't throw away a bill or a cashed check. "He files everything and keeps records of each dime spent. There has to be something in his office."

  "Don't get caught," he says. "It's not worth it."

  Angered, I whip my head toward him, wondering how he could even think he isn't worth it. "I don't know much about epilepsy, Raine, but what is the outcome when you're not medicated?" I realize there is a harshness to my question, but if he isn't going to care about his own health, I will. His health is only the top layer of this issue, but it's more concerning than anything else.

  "I will continue to have seizures," he says as if it's no big deal.

  "Will they kill you?"

  "Probably not," he says.