The Good Sister (20 page)

The news of Lindsey’s hospitalization was instantly posted all over the local paper. Lindsey called Jessie within an hour of it to explain she was fine, just a little bruised, but overall, very lucky. Jessie just played along, placating and pretending to believe her. As soon as she was off the phone, however, she
contacted Noah with what she knew.

Noah was in front of their house. It was a pretty, lovely, really, Colonial house. The front had four tall columns supporting the roof, which was three stories up. A balcony with a half moon, wrought-iron rail, hung over the center of the house, above the massive, double-doored front entry. The grounds were landscaped to utter perfection. Every shrub was trimmed into perfectly symmetrical shapes, and not a weed or undesired rock existed. Lindsey had to be hospitalized and his heart ached. What could he have done to her? How much was she suffering now? And there she was: trapped and alone with the very fiend who inflicted it on her.

He closed his eyes in frustration, wishing Will had come along. Will could have easily climbed up the side of the house using the damn ivy trellis, if need be, to get into the house unnoticed. He’d slip in undetected, and no doubt, grab Lindsey from her bed before jumping out the window and rappelling down to safety. Will could easily save her, just as he did Jessie.

But Noah wasn’t Will, and he had no idea how to begin such an operation. He stared for an hour at the stately Colonial house, trying to decide what to do. His rented SUV had tinted windows and was non-descript, so he doubted anyone knew he was there. So he just stared at their home, but learned very little. Mid-afternoon, a man started running the electric hedge clippers before hacking away at the shrubbery fence that separated the sidewalk from their property. A delivery man dropped a package on their front step and some kids dashed by on skateboards. Teenage girls giggled as they shared a phone. Dogs barked. Traffic intermittently passed by. It was like every street of any upper class neighborhood.

There was, however, a groomed, polished, niceness to the area. It was the better version of suburbia, but there were no multimillion dollar homes. Nonetheless, these were all well-to-do homes. And the neighborhood attracted the kinds of people who worked at well-paid, professional jobs. The area actually had the highest per capita employment, owing to the many government installations that were headquartered in Arlington. This was easily reflected in the Johanson’s neighborhood. Noah had to give it to Elliot: he was a master at cultivating a likable, popular image. Prosperous, yet approachable.

Noah spent the hours flying there on his smart phone, learning all he could about Elliot Johanson. The man appeared “good” and had numerous charities, which he generously sponsored. He also had awards and honors, and important people who endorsed him by spouting positive rhetoric on his behalf. He was rich, obscenely so, but the way he pretended to shun it, gave the media only more reason to respect him. Besides, he was a war hero and reported to have saved two men in his platoon.

There were plenty of photos of Elliot and Lindsey over the years, attending different military and political functions and dinners, along with numerous banquets and awards. He often guest lectured at colleges and business conferences; but always, Lindsey stayed unnoticed in the background. Very little was ever said by her and she didn’t do interviews. Her quotes were few and far between, if they existed at all. There was always much mention of Will and Jessie’s connection to Lindsey, as well as her father. However, all that did was play into the tragic circumstances under which Lindsey suffered. It only made her beauty, as well as her fragility that much more compelling and mysterious. It was no wonder Elliot chose her to be his wife.

Noah didn’t know what to do, now that he rushed to get there. Frantic. Crazed. He was surprised he wasn’t flagged down somewhere and put on a no-fly list or something. His agitation, not to mention his temper, were unapologetic and rude. He had to get to Lindsey as fast as he could. Now, that he was there, he didn’t know what to do. Should he storm in there? Or call the police first and then go save her? What? What should he do? Knock on the door? Could she even walk? He had Jessie call there just to confirm Lindsey was home. Elliot (naturally) claimed she was sleeping and he’d have her call Jessie back. Both Jessie and Noah knew it would only be after Elliot had a chance to coach her.

The thought of how injured she might be rendered him into a state of paralysis.

The street, the house, the sunshine was so normal, and so innocuous; he was even starting to doubt his own conclusions. What if he had grossly misread all the signs? What if he was wrong?

But no. Jessie nearly broke down, so he had to be correct. He was correct. He just didn’t know what the hell to do about it.

He could only wish he were Will. He wished for the bravery and courage to vanquish all of his enemies, foreign and domestic. But he did no more really, than vaccinate people’s pets. He was always very proud of his career and life’s path. Now, however, he never felt so helplessly inept.

His cell phone rang.
Jessie.
“She was slurring. She’s on something. She claims a stranger broke into the house and attacked her. He stole all her jewelry and cash. She is fine. Banged up. But will be fine. My ass. She is not, Noah. She is not fine. She sounds like a complete zombie. Oh my God, I need to be there.”

“You can’t be. You cannot come, Jessie. Besides, I’m here.”

“This imminent birth is the only thing keeping me here, you know.”

That comment finally gave him a reason to smile, for the first time in twenty-four hours. “I just… I don’t know what to do. Should I go to the door? And what if he won’t let me see her? That’s a given. There is always someone there with her. Whether it’s the staff, Elliot or that man who is running Elliot’s campaign, the guy she told you about. He seems to nearly live here. I think Elliot is purposely not allowing her to be alone. I don’t know, we might need to wait until she comes outside. Alone. Or until I can get to her without him knowing. There is no telling what he’d do if he spotted me. Elliot will know that I know and he’ll sense something big is up. So no, Jessie, I can’t just appear out of nowhere.”

Jessie screeched in frustration with a litany of curses. “Fuck! You have valid points, and I think you’re right. You will have to stay there and just stake out the house. Wait until you can get to her. And when you do, get the hell out of there. Just go. Get as far away from that house, that town, and that state as you can. You got it?”

“Yeah, of course. But, you think I should sit here and what? Stalk her?”

“Yes. Sit there and stalk her. What else can you do? I’ll keep calling her. I’ll encourage her to get up and go outside as soon as she can. She sounds so doped up, it probably would do her good.”

“Maybe you should just tell her I’m here.”

“No, I know what measures Lindsey will take to ignore things. And deny things. And pretend things are fine. She has to maintain the image, and the reputation of perfection. She can do it, Noah! She can fully pretend that this wasn’t what it really is. She’s done it for all these years. By telling her that we know, well, I don’t know what she might do. You have to get her alone before we can let on that we know. It’s a lethal game of chess until we get to her. The only thing we have going, is that neither of them suspect that we know. They also don’t know about Tessa figuring out her story was completely false. So, yes, I want you to sit in front of my sister’s house for as many days as it takes.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Was this really happening?

Yes, it was. He waited until dark before returning to his motel room.

The phone call brought Lindsey groggily out of a restless sleep and she barely opened an eye.
Shit.
It was three-thirty in the afternoon. The room was gloomy and she had to shuffle through the mess of her nightstand, looking for the phone. It was the house phone ringing, so most likely, not Elliot.

“’
ello?” Was that her? Her voice didn’t sound right. Her tongue seemed so heavy and thick.

“
Linds?” Jessie’s voice sang over the line, sounding strong and sure. Lindsey lifted it away from her ear. Jesus, did Jessie have to yell at her?

“How are you today?” She was calling twice a day and always asked Lindsey the same things each time. How was she? How was she feeling? Had she been up yet? How many times? How much could she move around? Had she gone outside for some fresh air yet? When did she think she might? Where was Elliot? Was he there? Was he always there with her?

Every single day. Morning and evening. It was becoming so exhausting that she skipped answering sometimes.

“I’m better.”

“You’re mumbling. You can’t be that much better. What in the world are you taking?”

“
Nothin.’”

A long pause. “Bullshit. You’ve been on something for a week. It’s time to slow down on those. I don’t even recognize your voice. Do you even know you talk to me? And that time is passing by?”

No. Not really. She felt rather senseless, floating on a beautiful cloud, hovering above her body, that no longer hurt. She didn’t think. She didn’t feel. She just slept and sometimes gazed for hours out the window, unseeing, or even aware that she was looking out the window.

“
Linds?” The screech brought her back to the phone.
Jessie.
Oh yeah.

“What?”

“You missed everything I just said, didn’t you?”

“No.” Did she?

“Oh yeah? Then what did I say?”

“You asked how I was.”

“No, I told you I was in the hospital. I delivered a perfect, beautiful, healthy baby girl. We had her last night. Will is here with me. We named her Christina.”

“After Mom?”

“Yes. After our mother. She wasn’t a monster. Not everyone is, you know.”

“Oh. Oh God! Jessie, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you both. Tell Will that, okay? And I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Maybe… soon.”

“Yes, soon. Is Elliot there now? You sound like you could use some help about now.”

“No. He and Cal, I’ve mentioned him, right? The manager? Well they had an appointment with a speech writer. They weren’t happy with their last one. I’ll be fine until they get back.”

“When? Focus, Lindsey. When will he be back? Soon? Dinner time? Later?”

Why did that possibly matter? He would return at some point. Like always. “Uh, I don’t know. Later. I think they were having dinner with the guy.”

“All right. Fine. Goodbye, Lindsey.”

She was shocked to hear the phone beeping at her. Jessie just hung up on her? But why? She couldn’t comprehend. She clicked the phone off and threw it away from the bed. Sleep. Yes, after she slept some more, she’d feel clearer. She could call Jessie back, and give her the proper congratulations that she deserved.

The door clicked ajar and Lindsey cracked her eyes open, but only a slit. Oh, even the gloom hurt her sore pupils. She wanted to roll over and burrow further under the covers. Elliot. He was back. Had it been that long? It must have been. She slept longer than she meant too.

He stood beside the bed. Whenever she pretended to sleep, he usually left after a few moments. She knew his patience was wearing thin. Her reprieve, and his kindness, by leaving her alone all day in the bed, was coming to an end soon. He could only tolerate so much. He stood silently by the bed, without offering even the hint of leaving.

She finally rolled over halfway toward him before suddenly sitting up. She blinked in disbelief.

Holy shit
. She must’ve gone crazy. That was it. She was becoming delusional. She was sick. She was going to be committed.

Her father was standing there.

She shook her head and pushed back into the headboard. No. She wasn’t that crazy. She could not be seeing him. He was dead. Long dead.

The figure, the zombie, the ghost stepped forward and reached a hand out. She moaned softly in fear.

“Lindsey, don’t scream. No one is here. But we can’t risk it. I shouldn’t have come, but I had to see you.”

No. He wasn’t talking to her. She was doped out on
Xanex, Vicodin and Oxycontin, anything Elliot could scrounge up for her. He could talk a valid story to get her what she needed. But, never before did her dead father’s ghost appear beside her bed to talk to her.

The figure gasped as his eyes raked over her. He suddenly fell to his knees beside her and grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles.
Holy shit
. His mouth was warm. It wasn’t cold and it didn’t feel dead. She couldn’t understand. What was happening to her?

“What did he do to you? I swear, I thought he was a good man. I didn’t know he’d do these awful things to you.”

She licked her lips and finally whispered, “You’re dead.”

“No. I’m not. They removed me from the prison system and eradicated my presence in the world. But I am still alive.”

Her hands started to shake.
This could not be happening. This could not be happening.
She was literally going crazy. She’d been lying there for too long, comatose. Her medication was making her delusional. She should have been more careful and not combined them… and perhaps, not taken so many of them. Yes, that was it. She was imagining all of this. She was not, and could not, be talking to her father who died five years ago. Or… could she? Did it make some kind of perverse sense to her? Her father was still alive? Well sure, why not? Sure! Some covert group must’ve faked his death and let him go. Well, hell, didn’t that just fit perfectly? She was wrong about everything again, as always, so why not her father’s death? The world, as she now perceived it, was so screwed up, why not add this? “What? What the hell is going on? I don’t understand.”

“They couldn’t put me on trial because I knew too much. One of my greatest joys was exploiting people, Lindsey. Therefore, I know a lot of secrets. About everything. People. Places. Missions. Politicians. CIA. FBI. Even the damned president. I could embarrass all of them. I could divulge national security concerns. When I was arrested, I instantly became a huge liability, so I made it clear to them that I would use whatever I knew if they tried to prosecute me or kill me. I used Will’s trick: I wrote it all down and gave it to a lawyer, to be released upon my death. There were too many people’s futures resting in my hands. And my crimes were not of a political nature. They were… personal. So you see,
they
could not allow a trial to proceed. Instead, they struck a deal with me. I had to pretend I died, and disappear for good, forever. They wouldn’t let me live unless I kept quiet.”

“They?”

“A small group of just four people are the only ones in the entire world who know I’m still alive. Consider me a top secret intelligence operation. Did you really think I’d kill myself? Never. I made it so I always survived. Just as you need to make it so you continue to survive.”

She snapped the lamp on and blinked in shock. It was he! It was really her father. She tentatively stretched out one hand to touch his cheek. His hair was shaved, making him look older, and more fragile. His face seemed sunken, and wrinkled. He lost a substantial amount weight. He almost looked to her like a cancer survivor.

“Where do you live?”

He smiled wearily. “Canada. I have a new alias. I’m a retired city worker. I hail from Ontario and my wife recently died. So, with no kids or wife, I’m forging a new life in the city.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. I’m really not.”

“They pretended you hung yourself, and then set you up in
Canada
?”

“Yes.”

A bubble rose in her chest. It was almost a laugh. “Canada? They set you up in Canada?”

He finally started to smile in response to her disbelief. “Yes, fucking Canada.”

“How did you get here? Or get in?”

His chest puffed up. “I am still General Travis Bains. I know a thing or two about how to get things done. Don’t forget that, daughter. I can still get shit done.”

“Do you know how much I hate you?”

His smile faltered as he sunk down and slowly nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“I know what you did to her. You tried to destroy her. I hate you.”

“I know. But I didn’t do it to you. I loved you.”

She turned her head away. “Your love means shit to me.”

“As does Elliot’s. He did this, didn’t he? I observed the progression over the years. I noted your absences from major events. I kept track and noticed the pattern. I know what he did to my little girl.”

She turned away. “I am not your little girl. I wish I never was your daughter at all. All you see here is that I married my father, didn’t I?”

He flinched. “You did. I hope you know I am sorry. If I could take it back, I would. I lost everything. Especially you. I might as well be dead.”

“Then be dead.”

“Lindsey, I will not leave you like this.”

“What are you going to do for me? Kill Elliot? There is no escape for me.”

“No. I want to. But I don’t have enough time. I snuck in here. I need to get back before my presence is noticed. I came to tell you this: you need to leave. You need to get away now. You cannot stay here.”

The urgency of his tone barely registered through her foggy daze. In a hollow voice, she whispered, “I will never get free.”

“You will. If you leave now. Go to your sister. I know she’ll help you.”

“That’s the first place he’ll look for me. He could hurt them too, you know. Unlike you, I care too much for them and I will not let any harm befall them. So, I will have to live with this. As I learned to live with what you did.”

He didn’t speak for an entire minute. “There is a man watching you.”

“
What?”

“Yes, he’s been here for almost a week. Every day. He waits and watches the house. He is tall, with dark hair and black glasses. Noah Clark. Jessie’s boyfriend. What the hell is he doing here, watching you?”

She sat up. “Noah? Noah is here? Watching me? What is this?”

“Seems someone else figured it out too. Is he a friend?”

“Yes. He is… no, he was. He should not be here. I don’t understand.”

Her father got up and swept all her pills into the trash basket from the bathroom. “You need to get your head clear. You must be sober. You need all your wits. You will leave everything behind and go with this Noah guy. Find a place that Elliot could never know about. Go there. And never look back. Never come back. Don’t even contact your sister. Let this life go. Leave.”

Tears fell from her eyes. “Who are you to tell me what to do? You’re an awful person. Why should I listen to you? You betrayed Jessie. You betrayed our country. You betrayed the uniform. You betrayed everything that is good and decent in the world.
You betrayed me.
You ruined everything I ever believed in.”

His shoulders fell. “I know. It went too far. All of it. I got caught up in my own power. I hated Jessie. I really did. She symbolized what your mother did to me. I didn’t feel anything towards her. Not like I did with you. I never lied to you about that.”

“Did you kill Mom?”

He instantly stopped dead, no longer collecting all the litter around her bed. “Kill her? Is that what you believe? No! No, I didn’t kill your mother. I did some bad things, but I am not all evil. I never killed anyone. And I did not intend for Jessie to get raped in Mexico, just as I had nothing to do with Will’s disappearance in Afghanistan. I only have so much power.”

“You didn’t kill her?”

“No, it was a tragic accident. And perhaps, I took out my sense of betrayal and grief on Jessie.”

“Perhaps? You ruined her. You
are
all evil.”

He nodded. “Fine. Use that. Use your hate towards me as motivation to get your ass out of bed, and get out of here. Save your own life.”

“Who was her father?”

“What?”

“Jessie. Who was her father?”

He sighed with frustration. “This matters for shit right now, but it was a man named Steven
Bremton. He was a parent of another toddler in your preschool class. Your mother spent a lot of time with him, volunteering. And that is where Jessie came from. He is married now for thirty-plus years, and has two kids who are both successful and now starting their own families. He never knew about Jessie. I saw to that. And finding out now? What could that do? Besides blowing his life apart, as well as Jessie’s. As you’ve pointed out, I’ve done that long enough.”

She stared at him long and hard, as she slid back down onto the mattress. His presence. His news. His answers exhausted her mind. They were surreal. But more than anything, the knowledge that he was alive had her nearly convinced she must be having a delusional conversation with an apparition of her own making. “When I found out you hung yourself, I completely believed it. I knew you would never tolerate such a scandal. And I told Jessie it didn’t matter. You got what you deserved. You chose that. We were done grieving over you. But… the thing was, for me, that wasn’t true. My heart got ripped out that day. You broke my heart for every day before that, as I learned every awful thing you did; but after you were dead… you literally broke me. You ruined my life. You ruined who I was. Just… please, get out. There is nothing left for you to do here.”

“You put up with it as punishment, don’t you? I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you, while trying to decide if my gut feeling was right and you were really in trouble. Then my head would argue, that no, no way, would my girl, my Lindsey, Lindsey Bains, ever stick around and be beaten up by a man. I was always so proud of you. I knew, I just knew you were destined for great things.

“Letting this happen to you, I finally realized, that was because of me. You think because I did it to Jessie, and you somehow let it happen, that you deserve it too. But, I didn’t do that to Jessie. I never hospitalized her. I got mad at her. I did. I don’t deny that. I was wrong to do the things that I did. But it was one thing at a time, and never a beating like this.”

“Oh, well, that makes it okay then. What about letting your pervert friends rape her?”

“It just all happened. I got drunk on my own power.  But why aren’t you fighting back?”

“Survival. I guess I really don’t want to die. So, I do what I can to stay alive.”

He threw down the garbage he collected in his hands. “Get up! Get sober! Be the daughter I raised you to be! And this is not it. Cowering in bed. Beaten. Drugged. No! I will not accept this is what you’ve become.”

He yanked the bedcovers off her. She tried to clutch them, but missed. Her father stopped in horror, as his eyes grew large and sad. He reverently, slowly, touched her legs, saying, “Oh baby, what did he do to you?”

“Everything,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “Everything you ever let happen to Jessie, Elliot did to me. You started all of this.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“How? You’re already dead. They’ll simply blame it on me. So, no. Don’t. Just get out. Go back to
Canada
, you miserable, cowardly sack of shit.”

He stared at her hard as she curled up into a ball. Silence ticked on for minutes. Finally, very softly, he said, “I’ll tell Jessie. I’ll contact her and tell her I’m alive. I’ll tell her what’s happened to you. I will, damn it. You pushed me that far and I’ll do it. I’ll go let Jessie know she is not free of me.”

No.
He could not call her sister! That would destroy Jessie all over again. Jessie did not deserve that. Not now. Not today. Today, now that she had her baby. One she could keep and raise and love. One she shared with Will. No. She would not let that happen. Through her foggy, drug-addled mind, she found that much resolve.

“Don’t you dare go near my sister! Not ever again.”

“Fine. Use that as an incentive to get your ass out of bed and get away from here. If not for yourself or common decency, then do it for Jessie.”