Untold

by Nancy Ann Healy

  “You really are a pain in the ass,” Claire said.

  “Shouldn’t have thrown the can.”

  “How does Cass deal with you?” Claire asked.

  Alex shrugged. “That’s a question I ask myself every day. So? Whatever it is you need to tell me, it must be good if you didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. Did you find anything out about Brandon Carter?”

  “Nope. I did find out about Brad Lawson.”

  “You found Lawson and you didn’t think it was important to tell me that?”

  “I didn’t say I found Lawson. I said I found out about him.”

  “Brackett!”

  Claire grinned. “Paybacks, Toles. You want to know my story? Hand me a piece of pizza—gently.”

  Alex rolled her eyes and opened the box. “What did you find out?”

  “I went in like we planned. Only one person works in the office. I told her I was looking for my friend BJ and then I showed her the picture we had made.”

  “Did she know him? Alex asked.

  “Oh, yeah; she knew him.”

  “Did she give you any idea where he is?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “When I showed her the picture, she told me she didn’t know any BJ or Brandon.”

  “I thought you said she recognized him?” Alex questioned.

  “She did—as Brad Lawson.”

  Alex’s jaw dropped and a piece of cheese drizzled out.

  “Sexy, Toles,” Claire took a bite of her slice of pizza.

  “You’re telling me that the guy who is in that picture is Brad Lawson?”

  “Nope. But, she sure as hell thinks that’s who it is.”

  Alex set down her pizza and began to pace the room. She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. There’s a record of him…”

  “Yeah, their payroll company has a record of Brandon Carter. That doesn’t mean she knows him.”

  “Claire,” Alex started and then stopped. “Who are we chasing?”

  Claire shrugged and took another bite of her pizza. “Who knows?” she said. “Jenny Carter thinks we’re looking for Jack. Your buddy Bryce seems to know him as Brandon, and this woman at Crow Electrical is convinced he’s Brad Lawson. He can’t be both. Who he started out as? Who the hell knows?”

  Alex continued to pace. “What if he is both?”

  “What? You mean like a split personality of something?”

  “No. We know that there was both a Brad Lawson and a Jack Carter at one time who called himself BJ. What if he’s using both identities?”

  “Neat trick.”

  Alex nodded. “He’s got to be close,” Alex said. “Corrigan found Carter’s parents’ house empty; right?”

  “No one is living there.”

  “They didn’t make entry,” Alex groaned.

  “No. No warrant.”

  “Time to change that. Pack up your pizza.”

  “Alex, it’s seven o’clock at night and we’re in Albany. How the hell are you gonna get a warrant to go into that property?”

  “Who said anything about warrants?” Alex replied.

  Claire smiled. She started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Alex asked.

  “Not like you never saw it,” Claire rolled her eyes. “I’m grabbing something dry and less Cokey, if you must know.”

  “Hurry up.”

  Claire grabbed a T-shirt from her bag and pulled it over her head. “What makes you think there’s something there?”

  “Might not be,” Alex admitted. “You want to knock door to door all through this city?”

  “You’re really not going to get a warrant?” Claire asked.

  “Are you coming or not?”

  “Just packing up the pizza like I was told.”

  “Pack faster.”

  ***

  “Thanks again, Brad,” Michelle said. She took a sip from her coffee.

  “I’m not afraid of heights.”

  “Good thing for me.”

  “I learned to get over that,” he said.

  “Why? Did you used to be afraid?” Michelle asked.

  “Yeah; for a long time. I fell down a well when I was a kid.”

  “Shit. That must’ve hurt!”

  “Broke a leg and my left wrist,” he told her.

  “I don’t think I’d ever get over that.”

  He smiled. “The fall wasn’t the worst part. I was stuck down there for two days before anyone found me.”

  “Oh, my God. How did you get out?”

  “This older kid heard me down there. He got help, kinda’ took me under his wing after that. So, it didn’t turn out so bad,” he said.

  “I hate falling and I don’t like the dark. I would probably be scarred for life,” Michelle said.

  “Well, you either master your fears or they’ll master you,” he said.

  “Interesting perspective,” she said as she tossed her paper cup into the trash. “Well, thanks for helping me clean up.”

  “My pleasure. Do you need a lift?” he asked.

  “Thanks, but my ride should be here any minute.”

  “Another standing date?”

  Michelle laughed. “You could say that; it’s my wife.”

  He nodded. “Lucky lady.”

  “Yes,” Michelle grinned. “She is,” she joked. “I’m kidding. Trust me on this; Mel is probably the only person alive who could put up with me full-time.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” he said.

  “You’ve seen my housekeeping skills,” Michelle pointed to her disheveled desk. She turned to the sound of the door opening. “Speak of the devil.”

  “Hey,” Melanie McKenna greeted the pair. “Am I late?”

  “No,” Michelle answered. “Brad, this is my wife, Melanie.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said.

  “You too. You ready?” Melanie asked Michelle.

  “Beyond.”

  “Home?”

  “Actually,” Michelle cringed. “Mom asked me to stop by.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Michelle sounded surprised.

  “Yeah, I need to ask JD something anyway. Might as well do it in person.”

  “Hey, by the way,” Michelle said. “Has JD mentioned getting into any projects back at home?”

  “JD always had projects,” Melanie laughed. “She’d rather be on a roof than at a drafting table. She hasn’t mentioned anything that I remember, though. I know she said that the Governor’s Mansion needs a chimney cleaning. But, you know she won’t get to do that one herself.”

  “Safe bet there,” Michelle agreed.

  “Why do you ask?” Melanie wondered.

  “Oh, just Brad here is between jobs right now. I thought she might have something she needed someone to look at back home.”

  Melanie shrugged. “Don’t know. I think she’s preoccupied with other stuff these days. All I do know is someone better clean out that chimney. I heard her tell Jonah she thinks something died up there.”

  Michelle laughed. “Sorry, Brad. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

  “No problem,” he said. He nodded his farewell and stepped out the front door.

  “New recruit?” Melanie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Something wrong?” Melanie wondered.

  “No,” Michelle said. “He’s a nice guy.”

  “But?”

  Michelle shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. I feel like there’s more to his story; you know?”

  “I’m sure there is.”

  ***

  He closed the car door and sighed. “Chimney needs cleaning, eh?” He laughed. “Watch out for Eeper Weeper. Had a wife, but couldn’t keep her. Had another, didn’t love her. Up the chimney he did shove her,” he recited the rhyme. “Chimney sweeps,” he chuckled.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  �
�Boonies,” Claire muttered.

  “What?” Alex looked over her shoulder at Claire.

  “I thought my house was in the boonies. This is ridiculous. Did we really need to hike through the woods? No one is going to see us anyway.”

  “I’m not taking any chances,” Alex said.

  “Yeah, well, you better hope you don’t end up with poison ivy after that trek.”

  “Are you going to keep bitching or are you going to help me?”

  “What? You know how to pick a lock.”

  Alex groaned and went back to her appointed task. She moved her fingers deftly until she heard a click. “We’re in.”

  Claire stepped through the door behind Alex. Her eyes followed the line of Alex’s flashlight. “You take this room,” she told Alex. “I’ll move ahead.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I don’t think the Boogie Man is here,” Claire replied as she made her way toward the kitchen.

  “I’ll bet he was here,” Alex muttered. She took a seat on an old sofa and began to sift through some magazines that sat on a coffee table. “Old,” she commented. She made her way to a line of bookshelves and noted that there was no dust on any of the book bindings. “Someone reads Good Housekeeping.” Alex’s eyes scanned the titles. The second bookshelf caught her attention. One shelf was filled with colored bindings. Alex began to read the titles aloud. “A Treasure of Rhyme, Classic Nursery Rhymes and Fairy Tales, The Nursery Rhyme Book, Poetry for Children…”

  “Alex!” Claire’s voice pulled Alex from her private thoughts.

  Alex made her way toward the sound. “What is it?” she asked.

  Claire was standing beside a door. She pointed her flashlight down the stairs.

  Alex moved hesitantly until she was standing beside Claire. In the distance, she could see a wall full of pictures. Her stomach lurched violently in her chest. “Shit.” She descended the stairs cautiously with Claire on her heels.

  “What the hell is this?” Claire asked. She reached up and pulled a string attached to a light fixture.

  Alex forced herself to take a breath when the room came into full view. She’d seen this type of display before. Deliberately, she moved to stand in front of it, willing her stomach to behave.

  “Jesus Christ,” Claire mumbled. “They’re all here,” she said.

  Alex steadied her breathing. Her eyes wandered to a picture of Kaylee Peters bound and gagged. “Fucking son of a bitch,” she muttered. Her eyes scanned the display methodically, finding the faces of several more victims they’d identified spread among faces she did not recognize. “There have to be at least thirty women here,” she mused.

  Claire moved to investigate a large shelving unit. Anger boiled in her veins when she realized this was his trophy case. She reached out and picked up a small journal. “Alex, I think you’d better look at this. More rhymes.”

  Alex’s eyes swept over the collage a final time. She turned to Claire and accepted the journal. She read each page. It became immediately apparent that every woman came with a story. She wondered if he had recited the rhymes to his victims. The possibility sent shivers over her skin. She searched to find the last few passages. “Lucy Locket,” she read the words. Her eyes moved to the shelving until. “Son of a…” Alex pointed at the camera on the shelf. “Kaylee,” she whispered. With a deep breath, her eyes returned to the journal in her hands. She turned a few more pages to reach the end and stopped. Silently, she processed the words:

  Little boy blue,

  Come blow your horn.

  Your friend’s in the well,

  His arm is torn.

  Now, where is that boy,

  Who set him free?

  He’s under the barn,

  Right where he left me.

  Alex looked at Claire.

  “What?” Claire asked. “I don’t like that look on your face.”

  “There’s a barn out back.”

  “Yeah? It’s the boonies.”

  “I have a feeling we might find someone we’ve been looking for there.”

  “Who?” Claire asked.

  “Brad Lawson.”

  “You think Lawson is hiding in Carter’s barn?”

  “No, but I think someone might have put him under it.”

  “Fuck.”

  ***

  Cassidy hung up the phone and sighed.

  “You okay, Mom?” Dylan asked.

  Cassidy offered him a reassuring smile. “You’re still up?”

  “Finals.”

  “Ah,” Cassidy said. She patted the cushion beside her. “How was your afternoon with Kenzie?”

  Dylan laughed. “Don’t be surprised if she becomes a reporter or something.”

  “Why is that?”

  “She is nosy!” he said

  “As long as she doesn’t become a spy, we’re safe.”

  “Yeah, I doubt Alex would like that,” he said.

  “Understatement.”

  “Mom? Can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask me anything, just remember that I’m not allowed wine.”

  Dylan chuckled. “That’s what Alex was—a spy?”

  Cassidy smiled. “Alex worked in Intelligence.”

  “So, she was a spy.”

  “I’m not sure I would say that,” Cassidy said.

  “What would you say?”

  “I would say that Alex needed some answers and she accepted a role that she thought she needed to.”

  “That’s cryptic, Mom.”

  “I’m not trying to avoid your question. I am curious why you are asking me and not her. What brought this on?”

  Dylan sighed.

  “Dylan?”

  “I don’t want you to get mad.”

  Cassidy took a deep breath. “Something put you into this line of thinking.”

  “It’s not like I didn’t know she and Uncle Pip were doing something. I mean, come on, Mom; CEOs don’t carry guns.”

  Cassidy nodded. She decided to let Dylan lead the conversation.

  “I heard Grandma and YaYa talking about Grandpa and Alex’s dad.”

  “Why would I get mad about that?”

  “I sort of eavesdropped when I heard what they were talking about.”

  Cassidy smiled. “I see. Maybe you have a little spy in you,” she teased.

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Well, I don’t condone you listening in on your grandmothers, but I think I can understand why you wanted to hear what they were saying.”

  “Did you know?” he asked her.

  “About my father?” Cassidy asked. He nodded. “No, not until he came back—no.”

  “Is that the real reason he left?”

  Cassidy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What do you say to some ice cream?”

  “Ice cream?” he asked.

  “Yeah. If I can’t have caffeine or alcohol, I’ll take sugar.”

  “Mom?”

  “Come on,” Cassidy grabbed his hand. “This is going to take a while.”

  “You don’t have to…”

  “I’ll be honest,” she interrupted his thought. “I’d hoped that we could have this conversation with Alex before you left for the academy.”

  “We don’t even know if I’ll get in.”

  Cassidy raised her brow. “Dylan, you are in the top 3% of your class. You’ll get in.”

  “Because I have people to help me.”

  “Everyone needs people to help them,” Cassidy said. She pulled the ice cream out of the freezer and grabbed two spoons. Cassidy set it on the table and took her seat, immediately dipping in for a bite.

  Dylan’s brow raised just as his mother’s had moments before. “No bowls?”

  “Why? You think there’ll be any left?”

  Dylan laughed and dug his spoon in. “I want to do it on my own.”

  “No one does anything on their own, Dylan. They just think they do.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I
do. You don’t want Jane or Candace or anyone else pulling any strings.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What makes you think they will need to?” she asked him before taking another bite of ice cream.

  “See? Just by you asking that, you think they will try to help.”

  “Jane loves you,” Cassidy said. “Candace is my friend. Why wouldn’t they want to help you? They care about you.”

  “Is that how Alex got into West Point? Her dad?”

  Cassidy nearly choked on the ice cream in her mouth. “No,” she said. “Just like you, she didn’t need help.”

  “But, did she have it?”

  “I don’t know that answer, Dylan. It’s possible that someone might have helped push Alex along. I can tell you this much; it was not her father.”

  “But, YaYa said he…”

  “I’m not sure what you heard. Your grandfather and Alex’s father both worked for the CIA for years. What I do know is that Nicolaus wanted to keep all three of his children as far from that life as he could. Obviously, Alex and Pip had different ideas.”

  “So, why is she so opposed to me going in?”

  “She’s not,” Cassidy said. “She’s told you why she has concerns.”

  “Somehow, I think she left something out,” Dylan said.

  Cassidy set her spoon down. “This family has a unique legacy, Dylan.”

  “Spies.”

  “If that’s what you want to call it. I think your idea of what that might be and what it has been are likely different. If you want to know the truth, I think Alex would like to keep you from being recruited into that world.”

  “And, me going into the military makes me a target.”

  Cassidy nodded. “It’s not 007,” she said soberly. “This family has suffered because of it, more than I am prepared to share with you right now.”

  “Why not? You think I can’t handle it?”

  “It’s not a matter of handling it. It’s not all my story to tell. Your grandfather led a project for years that put me and Alex, Claire, Jonathan, Pip, and your father in jeopardy. It’s why he left.”

  “Because he was guilty?” Dylan asked.

  “Because he thought his absence might shield us.”

  “Shield you from what?”

  Cassidy sighed. “From becoming part of that program,” she said.