Dark Hearts

He got off the elevator on the third floor and headed down the hall just like the lady had said, following the signs to ICU.

The nurse on duty at the desk looked up.

“What room is Trina Jakes in?” he asked.

“What’s your name, please?” she asked.

He frowned. “I’m her brother Sam.”

“Could I see some identification, please?” she asked.

His frown deepened as he handed his license to her.

She checked it against a list, then handed it back with an apology.

“I’m sorry, but we’re under orders from the chief of police to limit her visitors to immediate family only, and I’m new to Mystic and don’t know anyone.”

Good call, little brother. “It’s okay. I appreciate your diligence.”

“She’s down that way in 12B. There’ll be a guard at her door who will probably ID you, as well.”

Sam heard her, but he had begun to hear what was going on in here, as well, and when the skin tightened on the back of his neck, reminding him of all the time he’d spent in ICU, he knew it was going to be a hard visit to make.

He lengthened his stride and saw a man standing guard by a door. Room 12B.

“Sam Jakes. I’m here to see my sister,” he said and flipped open his wallet, letting the guard see his private investigator license as well as his ID.

The guard looked closely at both before he gave the okay for Sam to go in.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Jakes. I’m Mike Cantrell with Embry Security. Visiting will end at noon and resume again at 2:00 p.m.”

“Thanks,” Sam said and entered the room.

As he did, the young, dark-haired man sitting beside her bed suddenly stood.

“I’m guessing you’re Lee,” Sam said.

The man nodded.

“I’m Sam Jakes. Nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, sir,” Lee said. “I’m going to step outside and give you some time with Trina. She’s in a drug-induced coma, so don’t worry about her not responding to anything you say. The doctor said she’s holding her own. That’s the update.”

He eyed Sam curiously as he left the room, and Sam could only imagine what he was thinking—probably something along the lines of Where the hell did he come from?

Four

Sam’s hand was shaking as he reached for Trina’s arm. This was a slap-in-the-face wake-up call to point out what he’d been missing. She’d grown up and nearly died before he could get his ass home, and right now he couldn’t remember even one good reason why it had taken him so long.

“Hey, little sister. It’s me. Sam. I don’t know who did this to you yet, but I promise we’ll find him. Just get well and know we love you very much.”

During the time he’d been in the hospital he’d gotten good at deciphering the readings on the various pieces of medical equipment, and from what he could see Trina appeared to be stable, so she was doing her part. But being back in this hospital made him remember all the times his mother had come to see him. All the nights she’d stayed at his side, the tears she’d shed listening to him scream as the doctors began to debride his burns. His family had been there for him. All this time he’d thought he was protecting them by isolating himself, when it appeared he’d hurt them much more with his absence. He swallowed past the knot in his throat, determined not to cry, and was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. Then he felt the pat on his back, and his vision blurred.

He turned, saw the weariness and the grief in his brother’s eyes, and in that moment their mother’s death was finally real. “I am so sorry,” he said.

“So am I, Sam,” Trey said, and hugged him, taking comfort from the strength in his brother’s grip.

“You have hell on your hands, don’t you?” Sam said.

“Yes, and I don’t know why,” Trey said. “It’s noon, which means they’re going to run us out of here for a couple of hours. I need to swing by the precinct to pick up Dallas, and then we can go to lunch and catch up.”

Sam looked back at Trina, and then leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Be strong, little sister.”

“We’ll be back,” Trey added.

They walked out together with a nod to the guard, and left the hospital.

* * *

Dallas was on the computer in Trey’s office when he and Sam walked in.

“Hey,” Trey said.

She looked up, then smiled when she realized Sam had arrived.

“Sam. I am so glad you’re here,” she said, and got up to give him a hug. “It’s been a long time. You look good,” she added.

“Not as good as you,” Sam said, and hugged her back. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

She turned the engagement ring on her finger.

“Thanks.” Then her eyes welled. “Betsy was so happy Trey and I were together again. She kept talking about weddings and grandchildren and—”

Sam shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m glad someone made her happy, because it damn sure wasn’t me,” he said.

Trey frowned. “Don’t do that, Sam. She wasn’t unhappy with you. There’s a difference. She accepted your reasoning as sound, figured you knew yourself better than anyone else, and none of us ever heard a complaint about it from her.”

It didn’t change the fact that Sam felt as if he’d let her down, but it was good to know his mother had understood his fears.

Dallas shoved the hair back from her face as she sat back down. “I’ve begun working on the list you gave me,” she said to Trey.

Trey showed Sam the 1980 yearbook from Mystic High School.

“I borrowed this from Will Porter. He was in the class of 1980, too. We’re going through the list of graduates, trying to find out where they all are, so we can start eliminating them as possible suspects.”

Sam sat down on the other side of the desk as Trey started pacing. He’d done that ever since he was a kid. When he was thinking something out, he paced.

“My first question is, why do you think the killer’s someone from their graduating class?” Sam asked.

“Something we found after Paul Jackson was murdered. When we went through his lockbox in the bank, he left a letter and a bloody tassel in an envelope for his son. The tassel came from a 1980 graduate, but it didn’t belong to any of the four who were involved in the wreck.”

“Okay, so if no one else is murdered, then we can assume that it does have something to do with that wreck they were in, right?” Sam said. “Otherwise, if more people are targeted, that would remove the wreck aspect.”

Trey nodded. “Yes. We believe Trina was shot only because she would have been a witness the killer couldn’t afford. Mom thought the murders had to do with something they saw the night they graduated. Once she mentioned dreaming about seeing a body. I asked her if she thought she’d been a witness or an accessory to a killing.”

Sam flinched.

“You actually asked Mom if she’d killed someone?”

Trey’s chin jutted defensively.

“More or less. Yes, she was my mother, but I’m also the chief of police, and I was trying to solve Paul Jackson’s murder. She told me she dreamed the four of them saw a body. She thought they were on their way to report it when they wrecked. She gave me a journal she’d been keeping of the dreams. A couple of times she wrote something about the four of them seeing someone die, and then being chased.”

“My God,” Sam said. “All those years, and that was locked inside her memory.”

“Apparently,” Trey said, and then glanced at Dallas. “How’s it going?”

“Slow. About half the class moved away.”

“I want to know where all of them live now,” Trey said.

“What about the ones who live here?” Sam asked.

“What about them?” Trey asked.

“You should confront them when they’re together. I’ve found that once you get a bunch of people together, if they have something to hide, one of them will say something that opens a floodgate.”

Trey glanced up at the clock. “The paper goes to press at three,” he said. “I just might have time to get a request in for tomorrow’s issue.”

“Tell me what you want said. I’ll take it over there myself,” Sam offered.

“Wait,” Dallas said. “Let me pull up a blank screen and I’ll type it for you.”

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Trey said.

She nodded. “Ready.”

“Chief Trey Jakes requests the presence of every graduate of the class of 1980 still living in the area at City Hall day after tomorrow at noon. They will be interrogated regarding the night of their high school graduation. Anyone who doesn’t appear will be brought into the precinct for questioning at a later date. As a reminder to all, there is a ten-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the person responsible for the murders of Dick Phillips, Paul Jackson and Betsy Jakes.”

Dallas’s fingers were flying over the keyboard as she typed. Then she finished and read it back to him. When he okayed it, she printed it out and handed it to Sam.

“The paper is still in the same place,” she said.

“I saw it,” Sam said, and settled the Stetson a little more firmly on his head as he left the room.

His stride was long, his steps sure as he left the precinct and headed down the street. He could have driven the three blocks, but it felt good to be walking somewhere.

Trey had filled him in on the details of all the murders, even the condition of his mother’s body when he’d found her. He was still reeling from the knowledge and imagining his brother’s horror.

He paused at a stop sign before he crossed a street, and saw the look of recognition on a driver’s face before he honked and waved.

Sam nodded and kept on walking.

A few minutes later he entered the newspaper office and recognized the man behind the desk.

“Afternoon, Mr. Sherman. I have a notice that Chief Jakes needs you to run in tomorrow’s paper.”

Glen Sherman frowned. “We’re about ready to put the paper to bed.”

“It’s important,” Sam said. “It concerns the murders.”

Sherman’s expression shifted. “Let me see it.”

Sam handed it over and watched the changing expressions on the editor’s face.

“Tell him I’ll run it on the front page. My headline didn’t amount to shit anyway.”

“Thank you,” Sam said.

“You’re Sam Jakes, aren’t you?” Sherman asked.

Sam nodded.

“I’m real sorry about Betsy. She was a friend. I heard your sister came out of surgery okay. How’s she doing?”

“So far, so good,” Sam said. “I’ll pass the message on to my brother, and thank you for the placement. Maybe it will rattle a few memories.”

Sherman grimaced. “Most likely skeletons,” he said. “They’re always around if people care to look, and ten thousand dollars makes for a lot of incentive.”

Sam was still thinking about that comment as he walked back to the precinct. Rattling skeletons. Maybe he could rattle some nerves tomorrow while they were at it.

* * *

That evening Sam was in the lobby of Cutter’s Steakhouse waiting on Trey and Dallas to come in from the farm.

Nearly everyone who entered did a double take, recognizing him as the hometown boy who had gone away to war and never come home.

Many of them spoke. A few of them just stared and passed him by. He felt their judgment and knew it was fair. He should have come when Betsy was still alive, not waited until it was time to bury her. There was nothing he could do to change what was, except to help his brother find who killed her.

He’d just received a text from Dallas telling him they were on the way when a family walked in. The man nodded cordially but without recognition before looking at him again.

“Sam Jakes?”

Sam stood and shook the banker’s hand. “Evening, Mr. Standish.”

“It’s been a long time. Our condolences on the loss of your mother. It’s a tragedy. A true tragedy,” Standish said.

“Yes, sir.”

“And how is your sister?” Mrs. Standish asked.

Sam remembered the wife’s face but not her name, and assumed the young girl with them was their daughter. “She’s holding her own.”

“That’s wonderful news. I’ll make it a point to visit her soon.”

“Thank you for the thought, but Trey has her under guard, with a no-visitation order. I’m sure you understand.”

Gloria sputtered a bit, as if shocked that she’d been refused in any way.

“Of course we do,” Standish said. “Her survival has put the killer on notice.”

Carly Standish had been politely quiet while the adults spoke, but she hadn’t missed a thing about Sam Jakes’ appearance. She thought he was good-looking for an older guy, except for the scars she could see on the back of his neck.

Sam caught her staring, which made her flush.

“I think our table is ready,” Standish said. “Ladies...”

They had no sooner walked away than the door opened again, and Marcus and T. J. Silver walked in.

Marcus Silver was about to walk past Sam when T.J. saw him and stopped.

“Sam Jakes, right?”

Sam nodded.

“Dad. It’s Trey’s older brother.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”

“No problem,” Sam said. “It’s been a while since I’ve been home.”

T.J. frowned. “I’m so sorry about what happened to your mother and sister.”

“Thank you,” Sam said.

“Yes, our sympathies are with all the family,” Marcus added.

The door opened again, and this time it was finally Trey and Dallas who arrived.

“Sorry we’re late,” Trey said, and nodded toward the Silvers. “Marcus, T.J., it appears we all had the same idea tonight.”

“Yes, it does. Enjoy your meal,” Marcus said, and then headed for the hostess desk with his son.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked.

Trey shook his head. “The digital version of the newspaper is already up, and I’ve been getting phone calls like crazy. Everyone in town wants to come to the meeting day after tomorrow,” Trey said.

“What did you tell them?” Sam asked.

“I told them unless they had specific knowledge and information to share, it was only for the members of that class.”

“Good call,” Sam said.

“Let’s go eat, guys,” Dallas said. “Tomorrow is going to be crazy, but tonight we can just be family.”

There was a knot in Sam’s throat as they were being seated. Dallas’s innocent remark about just being family had gone straight to his heart. All these years while he was living on the edge of life, they had been completely immersed in it—joys, heartaches, rejections, accomplishments. Now, thinking about what he’d lost, Lainey Pickett was at the top of the list.

As they ordered their food, talking about what they had yet to face and what they hoped to uncover during the meeting, Sam was wondering what would happen if he tried to fit back in—if he should even try to fit back in—wondering if they would resent him after the way he’d kept them all at arm’s length.

* * *

Lainey was in bed with her laptop and a beer.

After her conversation with Dallas, her curiosity had been piqued. She was reading through back issues of the Mystic newspaper in an effort to catch up on what had been happening.

She had a whole new level of empathy for Dallas after learning how her father had died, and what she’d been through afterward that had nothing to do with the murder. Attacked by a feral dog, running for her life from criminals in hiding on her property and all the while determined to prove her father had not committed suicide. When Lainey got to the discovery of Paul Jackson’s body, she was struck by the cold-blooded way the murder had been committed. The killer would have had to stand and watch Paul being crushed to make sure he was dead.

The bottle of beer was empty by the time she got to the story about Betsy and Trina being ambushed, and for her, it struck closest to home. She’d imagined being part of their family most of her life, picturing Betsy as her mother-in-law and Trina as the sister she’d never had. When she began reading about the shooting and discovered that Trey was the one who’d found them, she burst into tears.

She started out crying for the Jakeses and ended up crying for herself from the shock and grief of being abandoned by the man she loved, to the ensuing years of loneliness and the day she was diagnosed, all the way through to the last day of chemo. She cried until her eyes were swollen and her head was throbbing before she staggered into the bathroom to get something for the pain.

After that she wandered through the house, straightening a picture hanging on the wall, fluffing pillows on the living room sofa, gathering up a glass and bowl she’d left on a side table, loading the dishwasher and then making sure everything was locked up for the night.

Finally the lights were out in the front of the house, except for the night-light in the hall. She wandered back into her bedroom and got back in bed, then picked up the laptop. She started to click out of the paper’s site, then decided to see if there were any new articles relating to the crimes.

The headline for the digital issue of tomorrow’s paper caught her eye.

GRADUATES OF CLASS OF 1980

The subhead was a shock.

MANDATORY MEETING AT CITY HALL

The hair stood up on the back of her neck as she read the notice posted by Chief Jakes, and then a more inclusive story the editor had added to it. As difficult as it was to grasp, the police were convinced that the three murders were tied to the night the victims all graduated high school, which was why all of the classmates had been summoned.

Lainey’s heart skipped a beat. Her mother, Billie, had been a member of that class, but her mother was dead. Would she have known anything? Had she heard any gossip that would shed light on this mystery? And then she remembered her mother’s diaries. She’d been obsessive about writing in them on a regular basis when she was younger. Lainey remembered reading from them all the time when she was growing up and then talking to her mother about her life. Oh, how they had laughed. For Lainey, it had the feel of being a child with her mother instead of just reading about her at that age. But now that she’d remembered them, and now that she understood the seriousness of the meeting, she couldn’t let go of the idea that there might be something in them that would help.

She set the laptop aside again and moved back through the house, turning on lights until she got to the hallway between the utility room and the kitchen, heading for the stairs leading to the attic. They were the old-fashioned kind that pulled down from the ceiling. She grasped the short dangling rope above her head and gave it a yank, then walked backward as the stairs unfolded at her feet. The light switch in the hall turned on the floodlight in the attic above.

She hadn’t been up here in over a year, and as she reached the top she could easily see the thin layer of dust covering the floor and most of the boxes. She knew where the diaries were because she’d packed them away herself after her mother’s death. In fact, she’d packed them away in chronological order, so she knew exactly where she would find the one she wanted.

The boxes stacked against the north wall were all labeled Diaries, so she began to look for the one from the year 1980. As soon as she found the right box, she scooted it across the floor to the stairs, then backed down one step at a time, balancing the box in front of her as she went.

It was now after midnight, but she knew she would never be able to sleep until she was satisfied there was nothing in those diaries that would matter, so she wiped the dust from the box, removed the lid and dug through until she found the volume that began with Billie’s senior year, as well as the ensuing two diaries that had everything else through the night of graduation.

This time, when she went back to her bedroom, she had the diaries in one hand and a cold bottle of Pepsi in the other.

She crawled back into bed, took a drink of the pop, opened the first diary and began to read.

* * *

It was the wind blowing a branch against the side of the house that woke Lainey the next morning. She rolled over onto her back, wondering why she was sleeping at the foot of the bed, and then saw the diaries and remembered. She glanced at the time and sat up with a groan.

She headed for the bathroom to shower, and was so anxious about the day ahead and getting all her lesson plans done that for once she paid no attention to her too-thin body or the scars on her chest where her breasts used to be. And when she got out of the shower to dry her hair, it was so short that it didn’t take long. Other than the fact that she was beginning to panic about seeing Sam again, the day passed without consequence.

She went to bed and set the alarm, then dreamed all night that she was trying to find Sam. In the dream, everywhere she looked he was already gone. She woke up frustrated and anxious, then headed to the bathroom to get ready for the meeting.

She could already tell the day was going to be cold, because the house was chilly. When she went back to her room to get dressed she turned up the thermostat in the hall. Her clothes didn’t fit well anymore, but she managed to cope. She put on a pair of blue jeans and a thick sweater. Her jeans were held up by a belt, and the cable-knit weave of the loose sweater helped hide her flat chest.

It was 11:00 a.m. by the time she headed out the door. It would take about fifteen to twenty minutes to get to Mystic unless traffic delayed her. The meeting began at noon. If she didn’t get a chance to catch Trey before he went into City Hall, she would have to wait until it was over. Either way, she would feel better knowing she’d done her part.

* * *

The day was cold, the wind sharp enough to bring tears, as people began filing into Mystic City Hall. They walked with their heads down, their shoulders hunched against the weather, but it made them appear as if they all had something to hide.

Trey was already inside. He had his officer Earl Redd guarding the entrance to the meeting, with orders to keep out the curiosity seekers.

Sam and Trey had made a plan, and Sam was in his car, parked at the back of the courthouse until closer to the time for the meeting to start.

Lainey had the diaries in her hand as she ran up the front steps and inside, then quickly explained her reason for being there to Officer Redd, who let her into the courtroom. She slipped into the room and took a seat in the back just as Trey walked up to the front to begin the meeting. He had an updated list from Dallas regarding the people who still lived in the area, and would know if anyone was missing.

As Trey turned to face the group, he glanced out the windows and saw Sam on the sidewalk. His entrance should rattle the group. It was time to get started.

“Thank you for coming. Beginning with you on the end, tell me your name at the time of graduation, so I can check you off the list.”

He pointed straight at Marcus Silver, and Marcus promptly replied. Then Gregory Standish, then Will Porter, and on through the crowd until he noticed Lainey Pickett in the back of the room and frowned.

“Lainey?”

“I’m here on behalf of my mother, Billie Conway. She kept diaries. I brought the ones pertaining to her senior year.”

Trey’s heart skipped. Something must be in them or she wouldn’t have come. Before he could say anything else, the doors at the back of the room opened, and everyone turned to look as Sam Jakes came in and strode straight down the aisle toward Trey, glaring at everyone he saw.

Lainey could tell from his expression that he didn’t see her, but she saw him, the wide set of his shoulders beneath his coat, the dark brown Stetson on his head, and struggled with the urge to run. Then he reached the front and turned to face the crowd, and she lifted her chin and stared back, waiting for him to see her.

Sam looked out across the room, meeting gaze after gaze, waiting until each person looked away before moving on to the next. Then he saw the woman at the back of the room. Stunned by her presence, he was the first to turn his gaze elsewhere.