by R. A. McGee
“I know. Believe me, I know,” Porter said.
“So who is it?” Sarah said. She fidgeted with her seat cushion.
Porter’s eyes lingered on the cushion. “Here’s the thing, I asked myself, who would have wanted the girl gone? Who would have the most to gain if she died? It’s a really tough question. Hard to find an easy answer.”
“But you have one, right?” Jamie said.
“Yeah, you said you needed to ask Jamie one question and his answer would tell you everything you needed to know.”
“I may have worded that wrong,” Porter said. “I already know who did it. Jamie’s answer will let the two of you know who killed Evanna.”
“Killed?” Jamie said. “You know for sure?”
Porter nodded.
“What’s the question?” Sarah said.
“It’s pretty easy. You two ready?” Porter said.
“Come on already, damn it,” Jamie said.
“Okay. If you’re ready.”
The siblings stared expectantly at Porter.
“Who was the first person you told that Evanna was pregnant?” Porter said.
“The first person? Shit, I only ever told one person,” Jamie said.
“Who?”
“Sarah,” Jamie said, gesturing to his sister. “But that’s dumb as hell. She didn’t hurt Evanna. Tell him, sis.”
“Yeah, why would I hurt that girl?” Sarah said.
“I asked myself the same thing. Then I got to thinking. What if the Joneses weren’t the family worried that a baby would ruin their life? What if it was you? You told me how hard you worked to get your brother out of foster care. You told me how you have to slave away walking the streets to pay for his expenses at the university. Think what happens now that Evanna is pregnant.
“Jamie’ll probably drop out of his fancy school. You guys don’t have the money to pay for him and the baby if he doesn’t graduate and get a fancy job. If he drops out of school and doesn’t get a good job, then that means Sarah is still out, selling her ass on the streets. I’ll bet you thought when Jamie graduated, he would support you for a while. Probably give you a chance to change careers. Sound about right?”
“That was always the plan,” Jamie said. “I owe Sarah so much, I can never repay her. The least I can do is take care of her for a while.”
“No doubt,” Porter said.
“But that doesn’t even make sense. Sarah and Evanna never met. I was going to introduce them, but Evanna disappeared,” Jamie said, sitting up on the couch.
“That’s right, I never met Evanna.”
“I remember you telling me that when we spoke at the diner. You said you never met the girl. I knew you were lying, but I assumed it was about not knowing where Jamie was hiding. I brushed the feeling away.” Porter slid to the front of his folding chair. Out of his back pocket, Porter produced Evanna’s diary. “Then I found this.”
Sarah eyed the diary.
“There wasn’t a lot in here that made sense to me, or that could have helped, but there was one thing, two days before the last entry. Want me to read it?” Porter said.
“Hell, yeah. Read me some shit that says Sarah had anything to do with all of this.” Jamie’s fists were balled on his lap.
Sarah fidgeted with the couch cushion. Again, Porter watched.
“You see, Evanna wrote everything in this diary in a simple code. I guess she didn’t want to put names in it, in case anyone ever looked. Plenty doesn’t make sense, like ‘I hate R. The test almost killed me today. I need to study more.’ Or this one, ‘One of these days, D is going to say the wrong thing and I’m going to loose my religion on him.’ I’m sure she meant ‘lose.’”
“What’s that have to do with Sarah?” Jamie said.
“Two entries stand out to me. The first is short. It just says, ‘Met S today. I can see why J loves her so much. I hope it’s his and I can be part of the family. That’s all that matters to me.’ I feel pretty certain you two are J and S.”
No one spoke in the room, so Porter continued.
“Her last entry was about an amazing crepe she had off-campus. She said she thought the baby was making her crave foreign food. But the second to last entry, that’s more interesting.
“It says, ‘S wants to go hiking with me. I don’t like hiking, but I’m going. I need her to like me. I hope she does. We’re making plans to surprise J with dinner. It’s going to be great—”
Jamie shook his head. “Sis? What is he talking about? Tell him this is some bullshit, will you?”
Sarah fidgeted with the seat cushion again, pushing her hand deeper than before. Porter stood and closed the distance between her and the couch. As she pulled the gun from the cushion, Porter pinned it against the couch with his left hand and slapped her in the chest, knocking her back into the couch and driving the wind out of her.
“Sis? What the hell are you doing? Where did you get that gun?” Jamie said.
“I imagine it’s the gun I dropped in the drain out front,” Porter said.
Sarah coughed and wheezed, tears flowing freely down her face.
“Sis, you gotta tell me. What’s happening? Please.” Jamie slid down the couch toward her. He put his arm around her and rocked her.
After several moments, the shuddering in the girl’s chest subsided, and she caught her breath. “What do you mean, Jamie? What do you mean ‘what happened?’ He just told you. You heard him.”
“But why? Why hurt Evanna? You heard her diary, she wanted you to like her.”
“Like I should give a damn. Jamie, she was going to ruin us. Ruin me. This guy is right, you were supposed to be the one who gets out and pulls us both up. How could you be so stupid?” She hit Jamie with closed fists, pounding on her little brother over and over again. He didn’t let go.
“How could you be so stupid?” Sarah repeated. “It was all over. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Walking the streets for money. Letting any dirty, disgusting man be inside me anytime they wanted. Don’t get me started on the smell of these guys. I can’t do it anymore.
“And you ruined it. All because you couldn’t wear a condom, you asshole. Typical you—you only think about yourself.”
“Sounds like you’re the one thinking of herself,” Jamie said. “I wanted all of us to be happy.”
“Thinking of myself? Me? I could have left a long time ago. I always stayed for you. When Dad would come home ready to hit something, I always stepped in the way. Always! Things got ugly, but I defended you. Stuck up for you. Did the best thing I could to help you. I took care of him, and now I took care of her too. Don’t you see? It is the best thing. The best thing for us.”
Jamie was absorbing the conversation. “What do you mean ‘took care’ of Dad? Huh? Sarah, what do you mean ‘took care’ of Dad?”
“I’ve always looked out for you. Always. Always. Always.” Sarah rocked back and forth. Jamie slid away from her.
Porter looked at the time on his phone and had nothing else to say. He watched quietly.
—
Two days later, Evanna Blanchard’s body was found in a small ravine, north of the city in a lightly-visited state park. Sarah Duncan led the investigators directly to it. She also admitted, after conferring with her lawyers, that she had killed her father many, many years ago.
The lawyers believed her father’s murder would be beneficial to her defense, to show a pattern of abuse, and humanize their client. The words ‘mental illness’ and ‘self-defense’ were slung around.
An autopsy confirmed that Evanna Blanchard had indeed been pregnant. Her family was not interested in finding out who the father of the child was. Neither of the two boys possibly responsible wanted to attempt to fight about it, each choosing instead to believe they’d been slighted out of raising a child.
Jamie held out hope that
his sister or Porter, or both, were lying until the body was found. That afternoon, he walked into his advisor’s office at the college and took an extended leave of absence.
—
Porter was rudely awoken by the telephone. He groped blindly on the nightstand for it as sunlight filtered through the windows.
Pushing two empty bottles of small-batch whiskey out of the way, he located the ringing beast and squinted at the caller ID. He knew he should have bought vodka. Vodka never gave him a hangover.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, yourself. I haven’t heard from you in a couple days. Not since they found the girl. What’s going on out there?”
“Heard from me? What are you, my wife? I have to check in with you?” Porter said.
“Considering Trish left you, I imagine I am like your wife now. Someone has to be the voice of reason,” Ross said.
“Can you be the voice of reason at a more respectable hour?”
“It’s ten o’clock.”
“Time zones, dickhead. It’s only seven here,” Porter said. “My head’s killing me.”
“Aren’t you crabby this morning. Don’t forget, you have your flight this afternoon. You ready to go?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean? ‘You need to check out of your hotel’ not exactly? Or ‘you met a starlet and are staying on the west coast for the rest of your life’ not exactly?” Ross said.
“I need to get paid.”
“I thought they were sending the money?” Ross said.
“Once the police logged that I was the one who found the information that led to solving Evanna’s case, I went to the bank where the reward trust was being held. I explained the situation, and they were pretty understanding. Problem is, turns out Mr. Blanchard is the trustee. I need his signature to move the money.”
“Great.”
“Exactly. He wasn’t too happy with me being involved in the first place. Thinks I’m some kind of war-crime profiteer or something. Anyway, I went to the house, gave them the bag and the diary. Broached the subject of the money with him, but he didn’t want to hear it. Said how dare I, yadda yadda yadda. Same shit as last time, so I figured I’d give him a couple days to calm down.”
“Well, you’re out of days. It’ll cost a few hundred bucks to switch the flight. Why don’t you just come back, and we’ll work on your money over the phone. Eventually he’ll sign it over.”
“No good. I did a job, I want to get paid. Just that simple. We’re all grown-ups. I realize they’re having a tough time, but too bad. Time to make good on your promises.”
“But you didn’t find her alive,” Ross said.
“I know. I’m not asking him for the doubled amount. The original reward is fine. It isn’t fifty grand, but I’ll be happy. Fair is fair.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“There’s this terrific burger place. If you ever come out here you have to try it,” Porter said. “Maybe it’ll make me feel human again.”
“After you eat, dummy.”
“The wake is today at their house,” Porter said.
“A wake? Porter, no. No, don’t do that,” Ross said.
“I’m going. And I’m gonna get my money.”
The End
Coming soon:
Forceful Intent
To find a missing girl, he has no problem adding to his body count…
Porter makes a killing tracking down missing persons. The former federal agent has the bank statements and body count to prove it. But when a good friend asks him to take on a charity case gone cold, he reluctantly agrees. After all, no family should have to bury their little girl’s empty coffin…
As he retraces the girl’s last-known steps, Porter squares off against a disgruntled bus driver, Tampa gang leaders, and human traffickers who peddle their wares on the darkest corners of the web. Through dirty hands and bloody knuckles, Porter learns that the girl may still be alive. And he won’t stop until he’s given her captors exactly what they have coming…
Forceful Intent is the brutal first book in a series of suspenseful crime thrillers. If you like flawed heroes, pulse-pounding action, and the Jack Reacher series, then you’ll love R.A. McGee’s gritty tale.
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About the Author
R.A. McGee is the author of several novels, most in the Crime Fiction, Mystery, and Thriller genres. A lifelong fan of reading, he writes the types of stories that he wants to read, with diverse casts and brutal action. He lives with his ever-patient wife and small tribe of rambunctious children.
ramcgee.com
