Page 23

Chapter 23

Henry

“Holy shit,” Jack murmured, and a giggle escaped him. “I’ve had whatever he’s looking for the whole time.”

“Open it or give it to the police?” I asked.

Dad and Jack gave me matching duh looks, so I shrugged. “Just checking.”

Maybe I should have been more careful—put on gloves or something?—but I bent the prongs and worked the envelope open. Dad moved the suitcase, and I dumped the contents of the envelope onto the coffee table.

Dad whistled.

Jack whispered, “Oh my god” over and over.

I grabbed an ink pen and used it to poke around the pile.

At least ten thumb drives, each labeled with years. Pretty innocuous on their own, but the fact they were hidden in a suitcase, and Joseph was frothing at the mouth to get them back, made me think they were likely filled with pretty damning shit.

The sheaf of paper looked to be spreadsheets of some sorts of accounts. I wasn’t exactly sure what we were looking at, but the numbers were huge.

When my pen shifted a piece of paper to the side and uncovered the photographs, all the air was sucked out of the room. Picture after picture of Joseph, Douglas, and hundreds of unknown individuals of varying ages and genders. A lot of nudity. Compromising positions. A lot of…other stuff. Whether any of it was illegal or not was going to be for the police to figure out.

But the mixture of so many thumb drives, spreadsheets with what appeared to be money entries, and the photographs had me thinking that Joseph was desperate to get the suitcase back because he and his son might be in some deep shit if any of it got out.

And who knew? Maybe the spreadsheets were connected to accounts belonging to Joseph and Douglas, and they had a lot to lose if those accounts were discovered.

Dad was already on the phone to the police.

“Must be some pretty damning stuff,” Jack muttered.

“Yeah, it’s definitely not just old tax receipts based on how badly Joseph wants it back,” I said. “I want the police to look into the life insurance he took out on you. That should be well-known when he and Douglas are on trial.”

Jack’s eyes went wide. “You think they’ll go to trial? And like, jail ?”

“Damn, I hope so. All evidence points to them trying to kill you for insurance money. And who knows what is on these thumb drives. Hell, the pictures might be bad enough. I think they’re in deep shit.”

By the time the officers came to the apartment, took more statements from us, sifted through the envelope contents, and bagged it all up, Jack’s eyes were drooping.

I gave my dad a look, and he nodded in unspoken agreement.

“Hey, babe. Dad’s gonna stay with you while I run downstairs. I’ll bring some dinner home. Why don’t you sleep for a while?”

It was a true testament to how tired Jack was when he didn’t even resist. He just tipped his pretty lips up for a kiss and cuddled into the couch with a sigh.

Dad walked me to the door. “I’m gonna let Hudson and Lance know what’s going on. We need to all stick close together until this shit is taken care of.”

“Agreed.” I slapped him on the back. “Thanks for being here and for all your help.”

“That’s what family’s for.” Dad glanced at a sweetly snoring Jack. “Sometimes it feels like all my shit fucked you boys up.” He scowled at my huff of laughter. “I’m not saying y’all are messed up.” He lowered his voice. “Just kinda think maybe I’m getting a chance to do the right thing by him.”

“You did your best with us.” I always felt bad when I thought about how much Dad missed out on—how much shit he went through—because of the way things went down with him and my mom. “But he’s lucky to have you. You’re the dad he never got to have.”

“Lord knows we don’t need him callin’ you Daddy.” Dad chuckled as I rolled my eyes. “Go on, take care of business. Bring us something good for dinner.”

“Keep up with your shit, and I’m bringing you a plate of unsalted broccoli.”

Dad groaned. “Man, come on. I’m tryin’ to eat better. Lance keeps bringing that pizza with cauliflower shit for crust. And light beer. Might as well drink water. At least bring me some grilled chicken with the peach barbeque sauce and a baked potato. Please?”

“You eat the broccoli first.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I didn’t slam the door on my father, but only because I didn’t want to wake Jack.

Everyone had been laying low for a few days. Jack hadn’t even argued about one of us being by his side at all times. Which told me he was worried about Joseph and Douglas—as he should be— and he was just happy to be back in his kitchen baking cakes.

When Dad came to the Roadhouse at the end of an early shift and told us to pack our bags for a sleepover, I didn’t even question it because of the smile on Jack’s face. Since my truck was still out of commission, Dad drove us to his place.

As we piled out of the truck, someone cleared their throat, and I whipped around.

Larry Holmes stood there with his grandson, Randy, and the Sanders boy, Pete .

I instinctively moved in front of Jack and crossed my arms over my chest. “Brother Larry, what brings you by?”

Dad joined me, blocking Jack from the preacher. “Can’t say I remember inviting you to my home, Holmes.”

Larry’s cheeks pinked. “Yes, well, it’s the responsibility of a good shepherd to check in on his flock from time to time. Especially those who stray.”

Dad and I took matching steps forward. Dad was built more like Hudson, not as broad as me, and he had some weight and muscle to put back on after his heart attack had knocked him down, but we made an imposing pair.

Larry stepped back, not even seeming to remember he had two young teens with him. “We’ve come to make amends. The boys have something they want to say.”

Randy pursed his lips and scowled.

Pete cleared his throat. “When my momma found out we’d been messing through your trash, she just about tanned my hide. Sorry. We were just being dumb looking for credit card numbers.” He dipped his head in embarrassment. “Didn’t know they don’t put the whole number on the receipt.”

Randy huffed when Larry nudged him. “We thought it was funny to make a mess. Sorry. We weren’t thinking properly.”

I let my gaze drill into both boys for what I hoped seemed like an eternity. “I appreciate the apology. Don’t let me find out you’re messing with people’s property again.”

Both boys nodded, mumbled another apology, and scurried away toward Larry’s car .

I kept my arms crossed and cocked my head, just waiting on what Larry might have to say.

“Now, I’m a man of God,” he started.

When Dad and I both huffed and rolled our eyes, he held up a placating hand.

“What I was going to say is that I’m not a supporter of businesses that encourage sinning,” he went on. At my scowl, he hurried to continue. “But that doesn’t mean I’m a proponent for illegalities. I won’t succumb to the devil’s doing by being a part of that.” He straightened his tie. “I just thought you should know.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

“Thought we should know what?” Dad asked.

“He’s not a supporter of our business, but he’s also not going to succumb to the devil,” Jack mused. He snapped his finger. “He means Joseph and Douglas. They’ve been trying to get information out of him.”

I grunted. “He probably told them all they needed to know before he realized they were trying to kill you.”

“Good riddance to the good shepherd,” Dad muttered. “Let’s go. We’re meeting Lance and Hudson at the Dairy Palace first. We’re sleeping at Hudson’s place. He said something about boat races and blanket forts.”

Jack’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “I love you guys so much.”

I slung an arm around him. “And we love you too.”

Dad started walking away from us.

“Where you going?” I asked.

“We’re walkin’. I’m supposed to be getting exercise, and if I’m eating ice cream, I need to cancel it out with a walk.” Dad hefted his gym bag .

“It’s like a mile,” I complained.

“Yeah? Well, you’re no spring chicken. Walkin’ ain’t gonna hurt you. Let’s go.”

So, I hefted our bags onto one shoulder, pulled Jack close, and followed Dad toward the ice cream palace.

Not gonna lie, the walk felt good, and I wasn’t even mad Dad made us get our exercise in before we stuffed our faces with ice cream.

Lance and I took orders before leaving Dad, Jack, and Hudson to hold a table in the little outside area. Jack’s excited voice talking about boat races in the creek and blanket forts warmed my heart as I followed Lance into the DP.

A little while later, while Dad chatted with someone from town, and Hudson helped Lance clear off our table, Jack took a final bite of his ice cream.

“Thank you for remembering I like plain vanilla,” he said, licking the sweet, creamy concoction from his spoon.

I tipped his chin and brushed a kiss over his sticky lips. “I don’t care if you want it plain, or you ask for five hundred toppings. You are the smartest, most talented man I’ve ever met. You deserve a thousand scoops however you want them.” Kissing him again, savoring the warm connection between our cold lips, I thanked my lucky stars that Jack found his way into my life. “And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you believe that.”

He grinned into the kiss, our teeth bumping. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you too.”

“This is the life.” Dad sighed with his legs stretched out in front of the fire at the edge of the creek in the orchard.

Hudson had insisted we set up by the water when Jack had asked if we ever did that as kids. After ice cream, we’d spent the rest of the daylight racing sticks, leaves, and little aluminum foil boats down the creek.

Watching Jack get to relive a part of his childhood that brought him so much joy and reminded him of his mom while he piled good memories on top of the foundation he’d built with us may have been the best experience of my life.

I didn’t let Jack win.

Okay, I didn’t let him win many of the races.

Lance leaned more toward my side of things and didn’t get too competitive.

Hudson seemed to just be having fun playing in the creek like a kid with his new friend.

Dad, on the other hand, was in full father figure mode: helping Jack shape his boat differently for a better journey through the water, suggesting a little weight to make the tiny craft faster, and stopping just short of giving Hudson and Jack a lecture about the importance of knowing how to just have fun even when you don’t win.

I caught Lance looking at his life-long best friend with amusement and pride gleaming in his eyes. When he noticed me watching him, Lance shrugged. “It’s just good to see him finally coming out of that hell.” He nodded toward Dad. “That’s the Casey Joe I remember. Life might have fucked him over, but it didn’t knock him out. He’s makin’ a comeback.”

Something warm bloomed in my chest. I hated that a heart attack and Jack’s shitty past had to happen, but if those two things ended up being the catalyst for Dad’s phoenix from the ashes story, then so be it.

Hudson had provided everyone with a sleeping bag, and he’d forced each of us to carry two folding chairs. As Dad and Lance built the fire, Hudson, Jack, and I set to work making our blanket fort with sheets from the cabin and clips Hudson had procured from the Juicy Peach.

The rest of the evening had been hot dogs and marshmallows over the fire, warm peach and rum drinks, and laughing at silly stories. The gleam in Jack’s eyes wasn’t just the firelight, and I was so damn appreciative of my family for helping me give this to him. They loved him and wanted the best for him as much as I did, and that meant the world to me.

When Jack started yawning, I made him take off his boots and climb into our sleeping bag. I’d zipped our bags together for warmth.

Obviously.

Once we’d settled into our cozy cocoon, Hudson and Lance got the same idea. The four of us lay on the ground under the sheets of the little fort while Dad continued to lounge in a chair staring into the fire.

One moment, we were dozing in the peaceful orchard, surrounded only by the crackling of the fire, the hum of insects, and the scent of earth and peaches.

The next second, the wail of a siren pierced the air.

Dad’s head jerked up and he jumped to his feet with a curse.

The four of us scrambled out of our sleeping bags—not an easy feat at my size .

As we struggled to yank our boots on, Dad headed off toward the hill.

“Dad! What’s wrong?” Hudson yelled.

“CJ!” Lance called out.

“My damn house is on fire!” Dad hollered over his shoulder.

Sure enough, through the trees and up the hill, flames jumped from the back of Dad’s house.

“Oh my god,” Jack said.

We all took off after Dad. By the time we made it up the hill to his house, the volunteer fire department had arrived and were setting up their equipment. Just as the first arc of water sprayed from the hose, something caught my eye in the shadows to the right.

Dad was bent over holding his stomach, and we had visitors.

“Look out!” I cried, yanking Jack behind me to shield him from the men running toward us.

Dad launched into action, and Lance and Hudson jerked their heads first to me and then to the approaching figures. In moves that couldn’t have been smoother had they choregraphed them, Lance lunged forward and knocked the first man to the ground, while Dad hauled back and swung hard, landing a blow to the second man’s face with a crack of cartilage and bone.

When both men were on the ground, Jack stepped around me. Tears glistened on his cheeks in the orange flames of the fire, but he took a deep breath with his chin held high. He moved closer to the groaning, writhing men. I wanted to hold him back, but I knew he needed to do this for closure .

With Lance pinning Douglas in some sort of wrestling hold, and Joseph incapacitated, Jack knelt near them. “The night I left, it was because I heard you two plotting to kill me for insurance money. I ignorantly thought if I was out of your hair, you’d forget about me. I guess I should have known since you two are nothing but mean and greedy.” He dashed at the tears on his cheeks. “Oh, I think I found what you were looking for.”

Douglas’s eyes finally landed on Jack, and Joseph grunted through his broken nose, “Just give it to us, and we’ll leave. No questions.”

Jack laughed. “Oh, there will be questions. Plenty of them. I’m pretty sure the police have a whole list of questions they’re going to be asking you.”

Douglas tried to lunge toward Jack, but Lance tightened his hold.

Joseph moved as if to sit up, and Dad put a boot to his chest.

“Was the fire supposed to smoke me out? Or kill me?” Jack asked, his voice strong but curious. “Was that it? If you killed me in a random fire, you could get the insurance money and claim my belongings?”

Jack was cut off when blue lights added to the red ones flashing in the dark night. He stood and moved back into my arms just as our two favorite officers rounded the house a few moments later.

The rest of the scene was a complete blur that somehow passed in the blink of an eye while playing out in slow motion right in front of us.

James and Smathe arrested Joseph and Douglas. The two argued and mouthed off the entire time the officers handcuffed them, read them their rights, and walked them to the car. It was evident they knew they were in hot water and were grasping at straws.

Lance slapped Jack on the back. “I’ll call our attorney in the morning. We want to make sure those two are prosecuted to the full extent of the law not only for all the shit in that suitcase but also for attempting to kill you.” He glanced at the smoldering remains of the back of Dad’s house. “Twice it looks like. Plus, arson.”

Jack just nodded, his eyes a bit glassy. “Will all that be enough to keep them in jail? Or do you think they’ll post bail?”

I shrugged. “I guess it depends on what the judge thinks, but I’d say there’s plenty piled up against them, and they’re definitely a flight risk, so let’s hope he doesn’t offer bail.” I held Jack close. “If they can post bail, they’ll hightail it out of here, I’m sure.”

“So, it’s over but not over.” Jack’s words held an edge of relief, frustration, and sadness.

I kissed the top of his head. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

From where we stood, we watched Dad talk to a couple of the firefighters before turning and heading toward the orchard.

“Where are you going?” Hudson called.

Dad spun around and pointed toward the house. “I had a fuckin’ heart attack, that piece of shit sucker punched me, and they burned down my house!” He gestured wildly before yelling, “Fuck!” Then he turned and started walking. “Fuck it all, ain’t dealin’ with this shit tonight. I’m sleeping in the orchard in a fuckin’ blanket fort!”