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Story: Duncan
Chapter One
Duncan
The middle child. The invisible child. The child, overlooked and neglected by most parents, who often sat alone, unnoticed. No one expected much from the middle child. That was what the oldest and youngest were for. The oldest child bore the weight of parents’ hopes, dreams, and wishes, while the youngest received a lifetime of protection and prayer for survival.
No one ever thought the middle child would be the last one standing. Then again, with the ever-present threat of violence and the constant, low hum of illegal activity in the Irish Mob, anything seemed possible.
Now I was the only child.
Well, at least I thought I was.
A year ago, the realities of our lifestyle finally caught up with my younger brother, Duane, affecting him significantly. I grieved as they slowly lowered his casket into the ground and quietly said goodbye to him. As for the oldest, my sister Darcy had vanished, leaving behind a chilling silence of unanswered questions. With no leads or evidence of her existence, I didn’t know if she was alive or dead.
So that just left me.
The middle child.
Or so I thought until I made a trip to the Midwest.
Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
As it turned out, Darcy left more than questions behind when she disappeared.
She left a secret.
One none of us knew.
Secrets fueled the Mob’s success.
But secrets never stayed hidden forever.
There were a lot of reasons people kept secrets. Fear was the biggest reason. Secrets had the power to protect people, and they had the power to destroy people. They could hide shame, and they could get justice.
It all hinged on whether someone kept those secrets or exposed them.
Darcy ran in fear, and her secrets protected her son.
Duane had tried to discover the truth of those secrets. He had been searching for Darcy and according to Lannie, Sal’s younger brother, he was close. Lannie also believed that was what got Duane killed.
I had a duty to my family.
I had a duty to find the person who murdered my little brother and find out what happened to my big sister.
I had a feeling one would lead to the other. Only I didn’t know which one to start with. Duane’s widow told me she’d packed up everything he had in boxes at her daughter’s house.
So here I was, knocking on my niece’s door.
“Hey, Lollipop.” I greeted my niece with a kiss on her cheek when she opened the door, and stepped in without waiting for her permission. She lived in a small apartment in one of the buildings I owned in downtown Boston.
The front door opened into an open space that contained her living room, dining room and kitchen all in one. To the left there was a hallway with two bedrooms on either side and a bathroom at the end.
“What are you doing here, Ducky?” She closed the door behind me, and I smiled. When she first started talking, Duncan was too much for her, let alone Uncle Duncan. She pronouncedmy name Dunky, and Duane taught her to call me Ducky. It stuck.
“Your mom said there were some boxes here from your dad’s office I could pick up.”
“Oh yeah. She told me you might come by for those.”
She eyed me suspiciously. “What?”
Table of Contents
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