Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense) (83 page)

BOOK: Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense)
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Not for the first time, I realized the
kitchen
of this house was bigger than our apartment. Mom seemed quite at home, packing dough into a pie plate.

"I'm making pumpkin pie," she said.

"I can see that."

I never knew she liked to cook. Cook in this instance consisted of opening a can of pumpkin pie filling and spooning it out into the crust. I shifted on my feet.

"I didn't know you two were even engaged."

"We've been seeing each other for a year now."

Alarm bells went off in my head. That's an understatement. My head was on red alert. If they'd been involved for a year, that would mean they hooked up not long after Hawk's mom died. I didn't say anything.

"There are some rules," she said, in a flat voice. "Number one, do
not
mention your stepbrother."

"You mean Hawk."

"His name is Howard."

"His name is
Hawk
and if you know where he is, you can feel free to share."

"I don't. I don't expect to find out. You shouldn't either. Let him go."

"It's not that easy."

"Find a nice boy at school, Alexis.
Howard’s
not coming back. Just accept it."

"He wouldn't leave me."

"That's
enough
!" she said, sharply. "We're having our first Thanksgiving together tomorrow. I want you on your best behavior, and wear something nice."

I glared her. "My best behavior? I'm not a twelve year old, Mom."

She glared right back. "You
will
behave."

"Can I go now?"

"Fine."

I was on break, but the term wasn't over. I headed upstairs, left my door open a crack in case May came calling and spread my books and papers out on the bed, then opened my laptop. I was working on a paper for history class and every word made me ache for Hawk's help. He could do this history and English crap, I felt helpless without him, even though I was pulling a solid B in both classes. After about an hour, May came in, closed the door and climbed on the bed with me, and sat their with her legs folded. She'd be eleven soon and was in fifth grade now.

"What are you working on?"

"Homework."

"It's Thanksgiving."

"Tomorrw’s Thanksgiving and I still have work due. The term’s almost over. I have tests and stuff," I said, exasperated.

The world blurred and my fingers hovered over the keyboard. I picked up the laptop and I wanted it throw it through the window, but I carefully moved it to the desk next to the bed. I couldn't afford another one. Once it was out of the way, I fell back against the wall and started sobbing. May climbed on me and hugged me earnestly in that overeager little kid way, squeezing the air out of my lungs. I hugged her back just as fiercely and rocked on the bed.

"They know something and they won't tell me," I murmured to her.

"I know," May said.

She was always too damn smart, and nosy.

"May, promise me you're not going to go snooping around or something. Okay? Tom’s dangerous. I can feel it."

She nodded and we sat there like that. My sister sitting on my lap was remarkably soothing. After a while, I was at least resigned to finishing my work. May grabbed a book from her room and sat with me while I put my finishing touches on the world's worst history paper. If Hawk was there, he'd figure out a way to force me to care about conquistadors. I just wanted to get it over with. It was a general ed requirement and I needed to knock them all out before I was accepted or rejected into the intense, grueling marine biology program.

That would take me even farther from home, to Lewes in southern Delaware. I was excited about it before, but now it meant leaving May in this place with no one to call for help if there was trouble. The idea made me nervous. May sat cross-legged reading a book on the bed, one eye on me while I worked. I finished the damn paper, set up my bibliography, put the computer away, and stacked up biology textbooks full of markers where I was supposed to pick up reading. I leaned back and rested the heavy text on my stomach.

May said, "Can I stay in here tonight?"

"Yeah, if you want."

"I'll be back."

She left and came back in her Hello Kitty pajamas and climbed into the bed next to me. I shut off the lamp and used the desk light to read. I'm sure May had grand plans of staying up all night, but she was dead asleep by eleven. When I started having trouble stringing the words together on the page, I closed the textbook, laid back, and let sleep take me.

I woke around two in the morning, spinning in the weird vertigo that comes from waking beneath an unfamiliar ceiling. May lay on her side, curled up next to me, chewing on her blanket in her sleep. I tugged it out of her mouth and sighed. She stirred but didn't wake. Then I heard the noise of an engine and light flashed through my window, which looked out over the backyard. I cracked the blinds and looked out.

The carriage house was open and Tom's big Mercedes rolled out, the headlights casting harsh shadows across the backyard. The car rolled on and disappeared, red taillights like angry eyes fading into the dark. I sat back on the bed and noticed May was awake. Her voice was very small, more a breath than a whisper.

"He does that a lot."

"Does what?"

"Goes out in the middle of the night."

"Any idea where?"

I regretted asking as soon as the words escaped my lips.

"No, but sometimes he's gone until the morning."

"Good," I shuddered, and leaned back into the bed. "Just go to sleep. It's not our problem."

May nodded and curled up, and was asleep again so fast I hoped she'd forget it even happened.

It took me longer. By the time I fell asleep again, the sun was starting to peek up and I could only find a hazy half sleep, tormented by dreams, or memories, of Hawk. It was not the first and not the last time I hoped this was all a horrible dream and I was napping on that last day of school. Any minute I'd wake up and he'd be at the door with his goofy grin, ready to take me on a real date and do what we should have done years and years ago. When I woke for real, my dream was left dashed on the floor. I woke May and shooed her out of my room, fell back on the bed, and dozed off until almost noon.

I dressed in my Sunday best, even though I was never a churchgoer, and descended the stairs. The house smelled right, warm and welcoming. There was a turkey in the oven and my mother fussing over a dozen dishes in the kitchen, and I decided it was a bad time. I ended up outside, on the back porch, for the next two hours, staring at nothing. I just wanted to be alone and outside was the best option. May came and tugged on my arm around two in the afternoon and I walked in through the kitchen.

"Help me get this ready," Mom said.

Sighing, I joined in without argument. I mostly poured various dishes into serving ware and carried it out to the dining room. It looked like a Norman Rockwell painting, with potatoes and stuffing and creamed corn and real cranberry sauce, and the turkey on a serving platter in the middle of the table. Around two-thirty, Tom appeared with Lance in tow, both of them in ties. The last of the food was moved to the table, I place a bowl of warm crusty dinner rolls on the table, and everyone sat down.

The tension in the room was like an over-tight violin string, and it was plucked every time I looked at Tom. He hadn't spoken to me since the night before and I wasn't seeking him out. He didn't look tired or anything, he just looked around the room and sniffed the air.

"Smells delicious, honey."

My mother beamed like she actually cared. Thanksgiving dinner for us came out of cans and boxes and we had some turkey lunchmeat cut if we were lucky.

When I was fourteen, the weather was the exact opposite. Thanksgiving day was twelve degrees in the afternoon, and a massive snowstorm hit Paradise Falls that night, and ended up extending the Thanksgiving weekend for another three snow days the next week. We ate at home as usual, and the next day Hawk showed up at the apartment, bundled up in so much cold weather gear he could barely move. Mom told me I was crazy when I swathed myself in layers of sweaters and a coat and went with him.

I was still freezing the whole time. We didn't go anywhere special, just pushed through snow drifts and wandered around town for a few hours until it started getting dark and threatened to grow
really
cold. I still remember when were almost back to the apartment and I dumped a double handful of snow down the back of his coat and he hopped around like it was a hot coal, and ended up smashing a big blop of snow into my back. The snow clung to his hair and melted from the heat of his skin, and dripped down over his face. He shoved me down and I made a snow angel in the middle of Commerce Street, then hit him in the face with a snowball.

To this day, I don't know how he made it home without freezing to death, but the next day he was there again.

I shook myself out of it as Tom carved the turkey and laid a healthy slice on my place. After he carved up the bird, the dishes were passed around. May piled up a plate of food bigger than her own head and managed to eat it all. I swear she ate half a dozen rolls, enough mashed potatoes for two people and she practically drank the gravy.

It
was
good, but to me it tasted like ash, and the ginger ale like smoke.

Tom and my mother drank wine.

A lot of wine. She was giggling like an idiot by the time dinner was over, and the table was strewn with the wreckage of a hearty meal.

Tom said, "Kids, clean up," and took my mother by the arm.

She had another glass of wine on her way towards the master bedroom.

Ugh.

I sprang to my feet and started carrying dishes into the kitchen.
Kids
did not include Lance, apparently, who rose and headed up to his room and left me and May to do all the work. I put the leftovers in containers while May scraped the plates and serving dishes clean and filled the sink. By the time we finished, I was exhausted, my fingers were pruny, and I noticed that Tom's office door was ajar.

Inside, I caught only a glimpse of dark bookcases and a chair. I shamed myself for even looking and rushed upstairs, behind May. I had more studying to do, more to occupy my time. Snooping around would be the
worst
possible thing I could do.

I couldn't stop myself.

Studying was a chore. My concentration was as fragile as glass, my eyes sliding off the page every time I tried to read. I was sleepy from the big meal but I couldn't get to sleep, and ended up tossing and turning. It was well after dark when I sat up and stepped out of my room. May was across the hall in her bedroom, crashed out on her bed, sleeping it off. I had no idea where Lance was. When I crept downstairs, I expected to run into Lance and try to casually excuse my presence, or worse run into Tom, or my mother.

I was alone. I poured a glass of milk in the kitchen and decided to take it back upstairs with another piece of pie, but left the pie uncut, chugged the milk and wiped my lips on my arm, and crept over to the office, my heart in my throat. The door was still ajar. I swung it open, my whole body as tight as a spring about to snap as I expected it to make a loud eerie screeching noise and give me away, but it swung open silently, the hinges smoothly oiled. I didn't dare turn on the light.

The absurdity of it didn't hit me until later. I walked into the lion's den without a plan or even an objective. What was I expecting, that on his desk I'd find a big piece of paper reading HAWK ITINERARY and his current location?

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. My stomach flipped and I wanted to throw up.

What if Tom… did something to Hawk?

Why was he going out in the middle of the night? Why did he give me the creeps? It was stupid to snoop, but at the time I didn't understand, truly, what I was getting myself into. I was still a stupid little girl playing detective. I walked around the guest chairs and cocktail table and to Tom's desk. His computer was locked when I jiggled the mouse and I had no clue what the password might be, so I carefully went through the papers on his desk instead. There was nothing interesting, just stuff from his company. Payroll records, financial stuff, receipts, bank statements.

One thing I came across caught my eye. A bank statement for something called "ZLBPCC LLC". Whatever that was it had a lot of money coming in, and it was all listed under
cash receipts
. That stuck out at me, for some reason. It was a lot of money in cash. Tens of thousands of dollars a day, almost sixty for the whole month. I tried to place it back as best I could, and frowned. That didn't make sense. I didn't know anything about big construction projects, but my gut told me they weren't paid in cash, and on some kind of odd whipped off daily installment plan.

There was something really weird going on here.

I heard a creak and my heart jumped into my throat. Pressed against the wall, I made my way towards the door, not quite sure what I'd do if it swung open and Tom stepped in. There would be no way to slip past him, there was simply no way in or out. I waited, watching the light in the hallway, my heart pounding as I anticipated seeing a shadow of the bottom of his shoes any moment, but there was nothing. I slipped around the door and darted to the bottom of the stairs without looking, and slowed myself after the first two steps, careful not to make a noise.

The stair just below the landing creaked as I put my foot on it. Sprinting to my new room, I locked myself inside and sat on the bed, watching my hands shake.

I said to myself,
what are you doing, Alex?

This was bigger than me. Tom was creepy. There was something behind Hawk's disappearance that didn't add up and now this. Possibilities throbbed in my head. Tom was some kind of criminal, he was laundering money, crazy ideas coming at me: Tom is a hit man, Tom runs a secret criminal empire. I was probably reading too much into it, or I misread the paper, I decided. I paced my room wondering what I should do, if I should talk to someone.

The question became, who? My mom? She'd never listen to me and if she did, she'd take his side. May couldn't help me, Hawk was gone, Lance was a creep. I paced and paced and by the time I was done I decided that I was going to do absolutely nothing about it. I would go back to school, stay there, and quietly start looking for a way to stay the summer away from her. Leaving May behind made me feel sick, but if I signed up for some summer program or something and found a job, I could stay in the dormitories and drive up on weekends to keep an eye on her. We could Skype and talk on the phone and if May was having any trouble, I'd know it.

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