A.K.A. Read online

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  I know she wants to say more, or maybe I just wish she would.

  “How was Terrance?” she asks, again.

  “Fine I guess. He says he’s been busy doing—I have no idea. Is he always so vague about everything?”

  “Terrance is very clever. He answers most of his questions with questions. He does this to throw you off.”

  I think on this for several beats. Mary is right, he almost always answers my questions with his own. My father deliberately confuses, and then redirects the conversation without you realizing.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, Drake. Terrance isn’t the only clever one.”

  And don’t I know it. “Okay. I told him I found out about him. Who he really was.”

  She frowns.

  “What? Are you angry?”

  “I’m not angry, Drake. I’m disappointed.”

  “Disappointed? Why?”

  “I thought we’d…”

  “What?”

  She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

  “No, it’s not nothing. Tell me.”

  “Terrance had months to sway you his way. I thought I had weeks. But after my trip…”

  “Go on.”

  “I have only days.”

  “I didn’t tell him about our trip to Magnolia, or your game.”

  “It’s your game.”

  “Whatever.”

  “If you didn’t tell him about your trip to Magnolia, how did you…?”

  “I told him I was looking through the archives for remodeling ideas and found several photos of you and your family. And that’s how I discovered he wasn’t a Caldwell.”

  “And he wasn’t suspicious?”

  “No. He seemed…”

  “What?”

  “Preoccupied, I guess.”

  “Quack.”

  “What was that?”

  She grins. “Sorry, please continue.”

  All I can do is shake my head. “We met for lunch, but he got a call and had to leave before lunch arrived.”

  “You don’t say.”

  I frown her way.

  “Sorry.”

  “He asked me if I could stay in DC and meet him later for dinner.”

  “Go on.”

  “At dinner, he sat across from me and told me in between bites of his steak, his version of why he changed his name. He said he was close to your father, and he took the Caldwell name to honor him. He said your father told everyone that he’d put Caldwell International into a bloodline trust, but that was a cover for the real trust in his name. A trust only he and his attorneys are privy to.”

  “And now you don’t know who to believe.”

  “I know he’s not perfect. I know the lengths he’s gone to for justice. But I also know he loved Thomas and he’s still grieving. I see it in his eyes.”

  “He did love Thomas, but he did so at the expense of others.”

  “And I understand that as well. How easy it is to cross the line for someone you…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Is that all you talked about?”

  “I told him I was still confused about the two trusts.”

  “I can understand why.”

  “I’m not a blood Caldwell, so I’d assumed that he’d told you the truth about the real trust in his name.”

  “And your assumption…?”

  “Was wrong. He said you didn’t know about the real trust. He said your cousin Phillip wanted to retire and you were allowing me to be CEO until you found a blood relation to take his place. And I know that’s true because I called and talked to Phillip.”

  “Phillip told you the truth, as he knows it.”

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  “I didn’t lie to you. I told you that you wouldn’t be CEO if I didn’t approve.”

  “But you didn’t tell me it was a temporary gig.”

  She remains silent.

  “He told me he was in the process of filing for divorce, and once the papers are signed, he’ll reveal the true trust and I’ll become CEO permanently.”

  She continues to say nothing.

  “So it’s true?”

  “Terrence is a master manipulator. I’m living proof of it, and so are you.”

  I frown her way.

  “I knew I’d have to be one step ahead of him. But it’s clear I need to be two steps ahead of him when it come to you.”

  I nod, not knowing what to say.

  “I’m going the get dressed and make some calls. Meet me”—she points toward the woods—“at the edge of the lawn in thirty minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  I meet her at the edge of the lawn.

  “Why are we here?”

  “We’re going for a walk through the woods.”

  I follow her as we travel among the trees. I know the trails, running them whenever I can, but we aren’t taking any trails.

  About fifteen minutes in, Mary stops and looks around. “This is the spot.”

  “What spot?”

  “This is where Kendal died.”

  “He was hunting.”

  “Yes. It was Thanksgiving break. Thomas wanted to go rabbit hunting, and I told him not alone. Kendal said he’d take him, but I didn’t feel right about them going alone, so I asked Terrance to go.”

  “Why didn’t you feel right about it?”

  “We’ll get into that later.”

  “Okay.”

  “I sat by the pool and watched them enter the woods. I remember Kendal stopped a few feet in, turned, and waved. I waved back at him. He smiled and hurried to catch up.”

  “How old was he?”

  “Fourteen.”

  Fourteen laps. “How did it happen?”

  “Kendal was walking ahead. Terrance said Thomas dropped his rifle, and when he went to reach for it, it went off and hit Kendal in the back.” She paused to wipe a tear off her cheek. “I’d heard the shot and thought nothing of it. But minutes later, when Terrance and Thomas walked out with no Kendal, I knew he was dead.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mary.”

  “I still watch for him. It’s silly, but I can’t help it.”

  “No. Not silly at all.”

  I follow her as we make our way back to the lawn.

  When we reach the grass, she pauses. “Let’s go eat breakfast and talk.”

  I nod.

  We make our way to the house. “I’ll meet you in the sunroom.”

  I nod and head there.

  A few minutes later, Mary comes in carrying a tray filled with fruit, pastries, and coffee. She sets it down in the center of the table. “I hope this will do. Lucky has the day off.”

  “It’s fine.”

  She sits and we begin to fill our plates.

  “This is a large estate, Mary. Why don’t you have more help?”

  “Before you came, there was just the three of us, 90 percent of the time.”

  “You, Terrance, and… Hodges?”

  “No,” she says and rolls her eyes. “Me, Lucky, and James.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know it’s difficult for you, Drake. But I did tell you nothing is what it seems.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I guess I should have said nothing is what it seems when Terrance is here.”

  “So it isn’t my imagination? The change that happened as soon as he left for Washington.”

  “No, it wasn’t. Terrance and Thomas came home twice a year, Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

  That’s not what my father told me. He said he’d spent most of his time in Savannah.

  “You look confused.”

  “I believe you. It’s just that I was told otherwise. When he’s not in DC or here, where does he stay?”

  Mary hesitates.

  “You might as well just tell me. This is what the game is about, right? Showing me who my father r
eally is.”

  “I asked that very same question.”

  “What were you told?”

  “I was told by my game master that Terrance was only one piece of the puzzle.”

  “Game master,” I say and laugh. “So that’s what you call yourself. What is James then? The under-master?”

  “No. James is like a son to me.”

  “Oh,” is all I can say.

  “Terrance stays with ‘friends’ when he’s not in DC.”

  “Women friends.”

  She nods.

  James walks into the sunroom. “Sir Drake, how are you this fine morning?”

  “Once again. So not funny.”

  He grins. “Ma’am, I think these are the files you wanted.” He hands her the files.

  She takes them and peeks at them. “They are. Thank you, James.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “No, we’re good. Get back to—what are you binge watching today?”

  “Haven’t started yet. After I do, I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  He chuckles as he walks from the room.

  “I’ve wanted you to find the truth just as I did. But there are things I knew before that you don’t. This is one of them,” she says and hands me a file.

  I put my fork down and take it. “Before today’s game begins, may I say again how much I—”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “I played and finished my game. I’m not the one who started this game. It was you who moved the first pawn when you agreed to help Terrance.”

  She was right. I started playing this game the day I met my father. I open the file and scan the first two pages. I look at Mary. “Thomas wasn’t your son? You adopted him?”

  She nods.

  I look at the following pages for the answers to my next questions. Not finding them, I set the file down. “How did this come about? What happened to his mother?”

  “It was two years after I married Terrance. A woman came to the estate with a little boy. She didn’t beat around the bush. She told us right out what she wanted.”

  “She wasn’t from around here then?”

  She giggles. “No. She wasn’t.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She heard that Terrance had married into money, and she’d come to collect her share.”

  “Jesus.”

  “She wanted money in exchange for her son, who she claimed was Terrance’s.”

  “And he was.”

  “Yes. He was the spitting image of his father, same color of hair, eyes, everything.”

  “DNA?”

  “Yes, we tested his DNA. There was no doubt he was Terrance’s.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “We gave her the money, and she signed over all her parental rights.”

  “Who would do that?”

  “A desperate heroin addict.”

  “So, I’m guessing his early years weren’t so great.”

  “Thomas was malnourished and smaller than most three-year-olds. That was easily corrected. But the three years of abuse and neglect weren’t so easy.”

  “How was he abused?”

  “In every way a child can be.”

  “Dear God.”

  “Terrance thought love and attention was all he needed. But he was wrong. Thomas was deeply disturbed.”

  “How so?”

  “He had issues with anger, aggression, and abandonment.”

  “I can understand why.”

  “So did I,” she says and pauses as if thinking. “There were so many things going on with him, it was hard to keep up.”

  “Like what?”

  “The first year, he hid food under his mattress and in his closet.”

  “Jesus.”

  “If you tried to discipline him, he’d put his hands over his ears and scream at the top of his lungs.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Go on.”

  “He was afraid of the dark, slept with the lights on. He didn’t get along with his peers and preferred to play alone. Kendal was his only friend.”

  “Did they get along?”

  “Kendal got along with everyone.” She pauses again and smiles. “He was always building and fixing things. I think he thought he could fix his little brother. Put him back together one piece at a time.”

  “But he couldn’t.”

  “No. Thomas’s behaviors escalated with his age.”

  “How so?”

  “When he was little, he would destroy his toys. As he got older, he destroyed things that others held dear. I had a painting of my grandmother Toddy that I adored. He got up in the middle of the night and slashed it, destroyed it with a pair of scissors.”

  “Why?”

  Mary shakes her head. “Kendal had a kitten he adored, Muffin. She’d gone missing and we thought she’d run away or a coyote or a fox had taken her away. We found her body by the greenhouse. She had been crushed with something. I suspected it was Thomas, but I had no proof, until a few weeks later. It was late and I thought I heard our dog, Happy, growling. I got up and went to investigate. Thomas had put Happy in the oven and turned it on. I found them before any permanent damage was done.”

  “Did you get him help? Take him to a doctor or something?”

  “I tried, but Terrance refused to believe anything was wrong. He said he was just a curious boy and he’d grow out of it.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No. I begged Terrance to let me take him to see Cecil.”

  “James’s mother?”

  She nods. “Cecil has worked with many victims of abuse. Unfortunately, most of them have been young children and teens.”

  “I don’t know much about child psychology, or kids in general, but it’s more than clear, Thomas needed help.”

  “Terrance continued to disagree, but I wouldn’t let it go. I kept on him until he finally consented.”

  “What did Cecil tell you?”

  “She found Thomas deeply disturbed and felt he needed intense therapy and constant monitoring. She thought he was a threat, especially to women.”

  “So you did get him help.”

  She frowns. “I begged Terrance to get him help. But he couldn’t or wouldn’t accept that his flesh and blood wasn’t perfect. He felt all he needed was discipline and sent him away to boarding school.”

  “Did it help?”

  “That’s one of the questions that will be answered today.”

  “Okay.”

  She hands me the other file. “This is something I didn’t know about until after the trial. It broke my heart to see it. And to know that I’d played a part in it… I’ll never forgive myself, Drake.”

  The file in my hand felt like lead. I didn’t want to open it.

  “Go on.”

  I nod and open it. The first photo was hell. The following photos were unconceivable, beyond anything I’d ever seen or could have ever imagined. “Why are you showing me these?”

  “Because that woman and her unborn son is the main reason you’re playing this game. She’s the tether that binds all of us together.”

  I look at the first photo again. “Why does she look familiar? Have I ever met her?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I set the file down. “Who is she?”

  “Her name was Tara Green.”

  “How could you possibly play a part in”—I nod toward the file—“that?”

  “Sometimes inaction is more consequential than action.”

  “Are you talking about Thomas? Did Thomas kill her?”

  She says nothing as she hands me an envelope.

  I hesitate.

  “Drake, you must do this.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Do you think I did? Do you think I wanted to learn how terribly naïve I’d been for most of my adult life?”
/>
  “No.”

  “I get that you don’t want to peel the layers back, you want to scratch the surface and call it good, but you can’t.”

  She was right. I didn’t want to dig deeper, know the truth.

  “What you’ve done to the woman you love has triggered an avalanche. I’m trying to stop the avalanche before it’s too late. Before it entombs all of us. I can’t do it alone. I need your help.”

  “I don’t love her.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “What is it with her? Why do you even care?”

  “I have one very good reason to care.”

  “What reason?”

  “You’ll know soon.”

  “Whatever,” I say and grab the envelope. Inside would be instructions, an address or a map. I am to follow the instructions, and at the end, I’ll learn one more terrible truth.

  The first envelope contained six Caldwell International bank account numbers and pass codes. I was to open them up and follow the money. I followed the money around the world before landing in Belize. My father has several accounts in his given name, Terrance Evans. It looks as if he is using Caldwell to launder money, but I don’t know for sure. He could have legitimate reasons for doing so, I keep telling myself.

  The second envelope instructed me to go to the Caldwell Hotel in Washington, DC, room 109. I lied to Mary. I know what is going on in that room. Once again, I just don’t want to believe this has anything to do with my father. Admitting that he isn’t who I thought is admitting that what I’ve done isn’t just. I need to believe what I’ve done is just. It’s the only thing that is keeping me sane.

  WHEN THE KING IS CHECKMATED—THE GAME IS OVER

  Inside the envelope are two addresses. I’m expected at the first address by 11:00 that morning.

  My father had asked Max to go to DC. When Max left, so did his men who have been watching and following me. So as James drives me to the other side of town, there is no need to watch for taggers.

  “You miss being tagged, don’t you?”

  James’s smile is reflected in the rearview mirror. “Am I that transparent, Sir Drake?”

  “As glass.”

  He laughs.

  “So what had Mary cringing?”

  “Oh, I binged on True Blood. Mary’s not into that vampire stuff.”

  “Can’t say I am, either.”

  We drive in silence for a few minutes.

  “What’s on your mind, Sir Drake?”

  “I’ve been thinking about Thomas. I don’t know what to believe. Was he the talented, wonderful man my father told me about or the disturbed cat killer Mary described?”