He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed, knowing her well
enough to sense what she was really asking. “It’s the only reason I have to come back to this place. That and these cookies,” he said lightly, enjoying the taste of melting chocolate as he chewed. “Only Aunt Ellie made cookies as good as yours. Almost.” He grinned as he took another.
Maggie’s expression changed.
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“I’ve not had a chance to tell you how sorry I was about Ellie, love. All of us were. Such a wonderful woman she was.”
“Aside from you, Maggie, she was my mother. I’ll always miss her.”
“Himself misses her as well.”
Brad snorted a derisive laugh. “Yeah, right.”
Maggie put a hand on his arm pleadingly. “Don’t you think it’s time the two of you put aside those differences, Brad?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think that’s possible, Maggie, even if I wanted to. The hurt runs too deep.”
She took a sip of her tea, weighing her words. “Have you ever been in love, Brad? Really in love?”
He raised a brow, surprised at the question. Because he could tell she was serious, he took his time answering.
“Not in a want to get married kind of way, if that’s what you’re asking, Maggie. Why?”
“Then you can’t know what it is like. To know that the other means everything to you, even with every day kind of things. That a touch, a look, a moment, can carry you through any difficulty you might face in the day ahead, knowing you’ll be going back to that person at the end.”
“You speaking from experience?”
She shot him a look he couldn’t quite read. “In a way, yes.”
When he remained silent, she continued. “Your father loved your mother in just that way, Brad. She was everything to him.” She stood, pouring both of them more tea. “You don’t remember your grandfather, but I do. I was just a little girl when my mother started working for the senior Mr. Norton. He was a stiff, rigid man and he raised your father to be the same. Strict routines, strict
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dress, no emotion. Your father was the oldest and the most
impressionable. Your grandmother tried to soften his rules but she was never strong enough to stand up to him. Ellie was. She
resisted every one of those rules, putting up fight after fight until he would give in simply to avoid the dissension. When she
introduced your mother to Andrew, your grandfather wasn’t happy.
Oh, she came from money and an old established family, but her attitude was much the same as Ellie’s. She loved life and she saw beneath that tough exterior your father wore to the man beneath.”
Brad stood, carrying his cup to the sink and turned to lean
against it. “Why are you telling me this now, Maggie?”
“Because you need to know why your father is the way he is.”
She raised a hand as his expression changed. “Just give me a moment and then you can respond.”
He nodded, putting his tea down on the counter and crossing
his arms.
“You don’t remember the way this house was before you were
born. It was a home back then. Music ringing from the stereo, which your father would turn down and your mother would
immediately turn back up. She would grab him and make him
dance with her right in the middle of the dining room. Parties all the time. Not the formal ones your grandfather approved of but spur of the moment ones with whatever they could find in the refrigerator. Your grandfather would be furious and your mother would completely ignore him.”
Brad watched the play of emotions across her face, saw her
expression soften.
“In his own way, I think he developed a respect for her in the end, although you’d never guess it.” She leaned forward,
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beseeching him to understand with her eyes. “It was a whole new world to your father and I’d never seen him so happy. ‘Tis a shame to say so, but after your grandparents were killed in that accident, your father was even happier. The only shadow was that your
mother wanted a family so badly and yet year after year went by and nothing.” She smiled to herself. “I can still remember the expression on her face the day the doctor told her she was
expecting you. If she could have walked on air, she would have.”
“And how did my esteemed father feel about that?” Brad asked, trying not to let his bitterness show.
She tossed him an impatient look. “He was as excited as she
was but he was also worried. Olivia’s mother had died in childbirth and that thought was always in the back of his mind. When you were born, without apparent complications, they were both
thrilled. I can still see him spinning you around that nursery, laughing at your childish giggles. It was only later that he changed.”
Brad nodded tersely. “I know the story, Maggie. My mother
developed cancer and died and he resented me from then on.” The hurt stabbed through him once again and he shrugged it off.
“It’s not that simple, love. Your mother died from ovarian
cancer. The doctor made the mistake of telling your father that it was entirely possible the cancer had been there but had spread more rapidly because of the pregnancy. It was then he began to change. We both watched the damn disease take your mother. Oh, she fought, hard and long, but it was no use. For each pound she lost and each day she got weaker, your father grew angrier. Began to look for someone to blame. Someone to vent all his desolation
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on. That, laddie, was you. He didn’t mean to but it happened just the same.”
Brad slammed a fist on the counter, startling her. “If you think I can find it in my heart to feel sorry for him, Maggie, you're mistaken. I was an innocent. I didn’t deserve what his lack of love did to my childhood.”
She nodded. “No, you didn’t. It was as if a piece of my heart were lopped off when your aunt walked out with you that day. Yet I knew it was for the best.”
“Then why the history lesson now?”
She sighed. “Because I see your father becoming his father and I can’t stop it. I was hoping maybe you could.”
“Why should I?”
Maggie’s eyes flashed. “Because he’s still your only parent.
Because I was hoping you had a small part of your mother inside of you. The part that would forgive and forget. Was I wrong?”
No other person could make him feel as small as Maggie when
she put her mind to it, he thought, ashamed.
“No, you’re not,” he said quietly. “But it works both ways,
Maggie.”
She sighed. “Aye, I know. Just make the effort. For my sake
and for your mother’s. And Ellie’s.”
He stood, looking down at her, the emotions her words had
opened making him feel vulnerable, uncomfortable. “I can’t
guarantee anything but I’ll try.” He stood for a moment, arms crossed. “Why didn’t you tell me this long ago?”
It was Maggie’s turn to lower her eyes with guilt.
“At first, it was because I didn’t think you would understand and later, I saw you so seldom and the time just never seemed
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right. It was only after Ellie’s death that I realized life was just too short to be wasting. To short to hold grudges.”
“That’s why I’m here today.”
Maggie glanced up. “Because of Ellie’s death?”
“Kevin stopped by the office today. He suspects the cause of his mother’s death isn’t as simple as the police made it out to be. That her death wasn’t accidental.”
“What!”
Maggie and Brad both turned, startled, to look at the man who stood in the kitchen doorway.
“Andrew. I didn’t hear you come home,” Maggie said, deftly
rising to clear the remaining dishes from the table.
Brad’s jaw tightened. “Afternoon, Father.”
The older man strode into the room, ignoring his greeting.
“What nonsense is Kevin spouting now?”
“Nice to see you too,” Brad muttered under his breath. His
father had changed little. Still ramrod straight in posture, his body lean with not an ounce of extra fat, the chiseled jaw Kevin had mentioned. His only concession to his fifty eight years was wings of grey at his temple.
“I asked you a question, Bradley.”
“I’m aware of that. I just didn’t think it required an answer.”
“Don’t be impertinent,” Andrew said stiffly.
“Interesting choice of words, that. I’m no longer a child you can chastise, Father. I don’t scare anymore.”
His father scowled. “That was not my intention.”
“Yeah, it was, but there’s no point going into that now is
there?” He crossed his arm and took a quick steadying breath.
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Don’t let him rile you, Brad. Keep it cool and even.
“Kevin thinks his mother was intentionally murdered. I tend to agree with him.”
“That’s completely ridiculous. My sister was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Probably coming home from one of those damn charity meetings she was always attending.”
“You make it sound like it was her fault.”
“It wasn’t, but to make anything more of her death is strictly the result an overactive imagination.”
Brad released his clenched fists. Every conversation with his father ended this way. With both of them throwing words at each other. Maggie had stayed silent but when he looked her way, she raised an eyebrow. He read the message loud and clear. He leaned casually against the sink refusing to sit and be at a disadvantage.
“I’ll give you the gist of what we talked about today because I told myself you deserved to know. Whether you believe what I’m going to tell you is up to you. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another.”
He could see his father fighting for control and felt a
momentary regret at being so confrontational.
“Aunt Ellie’s death was the sixth in a string of drive by
shootings that, at first glance, seemed random. Even before Kevin spoke to me, something didn’t feel right about the scenario. Why a quiet town in the south? A town with literally no crime? One fatal wound perfectly placed. Awfully lucky for a careless shot.”
Andrew pulled a chair out, obviously intrigued. “What does that prove?”
“Nothing by itself, but there is a common theme. One I just
discovered a few days ago after doing some research on my own.
Every one of the victims had a relative in law enforcement. My
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belief is that these deaths aren’t accidental but the work of a serial killer.”
“Ellie’s death was tragic and wasteful but certainly not
premeditated,” Andrew said derisively. “Come on, Brad. Find a way to deal with your grief without fantasizing.”
“I don’t think you’re one to talk about dealing with grief, are you, Father?”
He watched his father open his mouth then close it, obviously catching the double edge to his words.
“Fantasy or not,” Brad continued evenly, “I have to follow up on this. At least do enough research to discover if I’m right or wrong.”
“Why haven’t the police instituted their own investigation,
then?”
“Because there isn’t enough to go on.”
Andrew shook his head. “Give it up, Bradley. If those in the know don’t believe this bizarre theory, then you haven’t got a prayer. Just let it go.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Because my instincts are telling me exactly the same thing
Kevin’s are. And I trust my instincts.”
“There’s a difference between trusting your instincts and letting your emotions overrule common sense,” Andrew said dryly,
glancing at Maggie who was busy at the sink.
The woman doted on his son. Always had. When he allowed
himself to reflect, he knew he had been a poor father. The boy had become a self sufficient and successful man and he couldn’t take any of the credit for that. He had to admit he couldn’t help the pride he felt when that building had been erected with his son’s
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name on the front. If nothing else, Brad had his bulldog tenacity and business acumen. He leaned back in his chair, frowning.
“Okay, if that’s the case, how are you going to prove something that even the police don’t believe?”
“I plan to take some time off to investigate. Really investigate.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Brad growled, “I need to bring to justice the vermin that killed the woman I loved as a mother. The woman who took a scarred adolescent and gave him all her love unconditionally, that’s why.”
Andrew shook his head. “You’re letting your emotions cloud
your judgment, Bradley. My sister might have been more impulsive than I liked but she would have told you the same thing.”
Brad straightened abruptly. “What you call impulse, Aunt Ellie would say was a sixth sense. The difference is, she would trust me to use those instincts. Believe in me. But that’s something you would never understand, is it?”
He turned without another word and opened the kitchen door,
slamming it behind him.
Maggie jerked at the sound and then flashed an accusing look across the room.
For the first time, as he slumped back in his chair, Andrew felt his age. Every word his son had thrown at him had been true. Yet his pride, or his stubbornness, or both, prevented him from
meeting him half way.
Maggie noisily put the clean dishes in the cupboard, slamming the door. Her blue eyes shot sparks as she put her hands on her hips and spun to face him.
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“Fire me if you want to, Andrew Norton, but you need to hear a few home truths. That boy is now a man and yet he still craves your love. Or at least your acceptance of who he is and what he has become. Push him away much longer and you’ll die a lonely old man. He can’t keep paying for something that was never his fault.”
Anger at her words died quickly. He nodded, sighing. “I know, Maggie. I know.”
She poured him a cup of tea and placed it in front of him, not saying another word. When she began to move away, he stopped her with a hand on her arm.