A Barlow Lens (12 page)

 

W
YATT
PREPARED
a report for Griff and e-mailed it off along with a note stating he'd be happy working as a consultant in the future. Next he packed the boxes from Lily into the back of his car. He organized their luggage, making sure they weren't leaving anything behind when they checked out while Val found a place to have prints made of the photos he'd taken of Molly's paintings. By the time Val was back, Wyatt had arranged to make one final visit with Lily before heading to New York, the final race of the Triple Crown, and their wedding.

“We should get to Belmont Park by Thursday and meet with Janelle, Izzo, and the rest of the crew,” Val said as Wyatt guided the car onto the highway. “Vin said he'd meet us there before the race; he wants to watch Janelle ride. My parents get in Sunday afternoon. I think my sister's flight comes early Monday morning.”

Wyatt reached over and rubbed Val's knee. “Don't sound so freaked out. Everything will come together just fine.”

“Yeah.”

Wyatt suddenly had an unsettling thought. “Are you having second thoughts?” He had to ask now, or he'd lose his nerve.

“What? No! Why would you even think that?”

“You sound a bit… um… I don't know.”

“I want the whole week to go smoothly. You know, my parents will be there and—” Val pulled in a deep breath.

“Val, you're acting like all this will be a big surprise to them,” Wyatt pointed out.

“I… it's just…” Again Val's voice simply trailed off.

Wyatt glanced sideways at him for a few seconds before turning back to the road. “Is it the fact I'm old or gay?”

“You're not old. My parents are… they're sort of reserved people. They never kiss or hug in front of others, I barely can think of a time when I saw them hold hands,” Val said. He sighed. “I'm not making much sense, am I?”

“You're forgetting all the time they spent in Kentucky with us while you were recovering. And I bet they've attended a wedding or two. I don't think they'll be horribly surprised when we kiss. When we called to tell them, they sounded very excited. They booked the bed-and-breakfast where we're having the ceremony and reception, for heaven's sake.”

“You did sort of win them over with your knowledge of whiskey and fistfighting skills. It's one thing to tell them I'm gay and another to show them,” Val said. “You're more demonstrative than what I was used to growing up. In fact, you get downright touchy-feely after a few drinks. The official drink for this race is called the Belmont Jewel. You'll like it: bourbon, ice, and lemon slices.”

“Okay then, I'll try and refrain from throwing you onto the shrimp buffet and having my way with you right then and there,” Wyatt said.

Val burst out laughing. “I'm overreacting, aren't I?”

“Nooo… I wouldn't say that at all.”

“There'll be a shrimp buffet?” Val's voice sounded more relaxed.

Wyatt snorted. “Not if we can't have sex on it.”

By the time they were exiting the highway near Lily's house, Val had moved on to specifics about the upcoming horse race.

“Now Fancy Flight—what the hell sort of stupid name is that for a horse? She could be an issue 'cause she didn't run in the Preakness. So, really well rested.” Val stopped talking for a minute, studying his phone intently. “Izzo still has great odds.”

“What flowers will he get to wear when he wins this one?” Wyatt asked.

“White carnations. Rod will get a winner's cup for the race and a special Triple Crown Trophy.”

“It's kind of fun knowing real celebrities,” Wyatt said.

Val snickered. “You not only know one, you're the father of one.” He shut his phone down and pocketed it when they pulled into Lily's drive and Wyatt cut the engine.

They stacked the boxes containing documents, pictures, and other memorabilia Lily had provided along with the one box that had not been burned with the storage locker to the side of the driveway. Each carried a box to the front door.

“I am so very sorry about Kevin and what he did,” Lily greeted them at the front door. She helped Val and Wyatt cart the boxes to a room off her kitchen. “We can leave all this in here.”

“It wasn't your fault, Lil. I should have known he was probably up to no good or would be when the US Marshals' Office contacted me to begin with. If he didn't preplan this, and I'm not sure he did, I should have suspected something would blow up.”

“I'm sure you didn't expect that something to be you,” Lily said.

“You got that right,” Val agreed. He set the last box down and pulled a large envelope out from under his arm.

“We found you proof, Lily. It's not perfect, and I doubt it would hold up in a court of law, but it really doesn't have to. I think you'll be happy with it.” Wyatt took the envelope and went back to the kitchen, extracting a stack of prints.

“That's great!” She moved closer, standing between them and watching as Wyatt laid the prints out, lining them up on the table.

“Val's the one who made our big discovery,” Wyatt said.

“You were the one who put the pieces together, all I did was find the pieces,” Val said.

“Pieces are what turns a puzzle into a complete picture,” Wyatt reminded him.

“While I was tracking down information on Tom and that fire, the name of a woman popped up a few times,” Val explained. “She was a little girl, five or six years old, and a kindergarten student the day of the fire. As an adult she wrote some articles about the fire and stated Mr. Manning didn't start the fire.”

“I think a lot of people jumped to all the wrong conclusions because she told police she saw your uncle and a known gangster in the school arguing that day. She'd also seen them in a local diner near the school with a third man, Philip Hall, a police officer,” Wyatt said. “Tom and Philip were involved, and that was a way they could meet and spend time together on a daily basis.”

“Was that the other young man in the photos with Tom? From the photos it was pretty clear they cared a great deal for each other,” Lily said.

Wyatt nodded. “Yes. They also met at the Canary, which was the speakeasy you bought everything from. It catered to homosexual couples.” He leaned over the table and pointed to a line of prints. “Her name was Molly, and she had some kind of dementia, a stroke, I'm not sure what other health issues when she was older. In her last years, she took up painting watercolors as therapy. Her grandson had them, and I think he never really knew what some of these meant.”

“Is this supposed to be the school?” Lily asked, pointing to the first print.

“I think so, yes,” Val said.

Lily nodded. “It looks a lot like the photos I've seen of the school.”

“We found out the school was built over an Underground Railroad stop. That's why the skeletons were under the building. There was Tom and Philip and the third man was Archie Newman. He, his sister Emma, and Philip grew up together. Archie was a small-time gangster,” Wyatt explained. “Emma worked in the diner and knew about Tom and Philip. She and a friend of hers, Nancy Fry, helped Tom and Philip when the four of them would go out in public.”

“Is this him?” Lily's finger tapped another of the prints.

“Yes,” Val said. “If you look at this and then the copy of a photograph I found of the school, you can see this part of the building in both. I think this door she put in a few of the paintings was how he got into the school.” He pointed to a window in the painting. “That was your uncle's classroom.”

Lily studied the first few prints. “These flowers, they're all red and orange with black leaves. They're coming out of the building and some of the doors and windows. So, for whatever reason, her mind converted the trauma of a fire to flowers, and she painted the school with flowers instead of flames.”

“That's what I think. It's common for people to use images that are familiar and comforting to them to represent some event that is confusing or traumatic,” Wyatt said. “This one of Archie ‘planting' flowers in the school is really him starting a fire. The police were chasing him, possibly about to trap and catch him.” He paused and pointed to another print. “That was his distraction.”

“Molly saw everything.” Val touched the edge of yet another print. “This is Archie and Tom inside the school. See that giant thorn? A knife in Tom's side.”

“My theory, and these paintings support the idea, is that Archie was running from the cops. He'd grown up in the neighborhood and knew about the school being part of the Underground Railroad and that there was a tunnel under it he could use to escape through or hide out in until he could get away,” Wyatt said. “He started the fire, probably thinking in all the confusion he could avoid arrest. I'm guessing he forced Tom to get him down to the tunnel and Philip followed.”

Val picked up where Wyatt stopped. “When Archie was cornered, Philip and Tom defended themselves and Archie ended up with the axe in his skull. Structural damage to the floor, either from the fire or something else is what caused it to collapse, and they dropped into what was left of that tunnel. Or maybe there was some room leading to the tunnel. We were in the building, but it was hard to tell exactly what that section was.”

Wyatt pointed to another row of prints. “These here, they show Tom leading other children out. He never started that fire and was a hero. If it wasn't for him, many more would have died, I'm sure.”

Lily turned on her heels and hugged Val, then Wyatt. “Thank you. I can't believe you found all this out. It's amazing, and I always knew he wasn't the one who caused that fire.”

“We tried contacting Philip and Archie's families, but weren't able to track them down,” Wyatt said. “Inspector Diamond has a full report, and if he has any contact information, he'll turn our findings over to them as well.”

After a few more hours spent with Lily, Val and Wyatt hit the highway and aimed their car to New York.

 

 

Belmont Park, New York—Present Day

 

V
AL
PACED
back and forth in front of Wyatt's car. “You know,” Wyatt drawled. “There are about nine hours before the start of the race. We're not going to be late.” He wiped water from his face with a towel, then slung it over his shoulder.

“I know.” Val rubbed his hand over his mouth and wouldn't meet Wyatt's gaze. “We should… could we just get this over with?”

Wyatt opened his mouth to question Val further, then pressed his lips together. The meaning of Val's words hit him. He gave himself a mental kick in the ass. Val hadn't given him a clue… until today.

Pulling in a deep breath, Wyatt walked over and put one arm around Val's shoulders. “I have to get dressed yet, and breakfast doesn't start serving for almost an hour. Come on back inside.” He massaged Val's shoulder gently. “You sure don't want me going like this.” He waved his other hand along his bare chest and looked down at his sweatpants that had seen much better days many years ago.

Val nodded and went willingly when Wyatt steered him from the parking lot and back inside their hotel room. Pushing Val into a chair, Wyatt walked to the closet and pulled out a suit, shirt, and two ties.

“Which one?” He held both ties up with the shirt.

Rolling his eyes, Val huffed. “The black and gray one. You wore it during the other two races, and it's the same colors as Janelle's silks. Let's not challenge luck and change the tie now.”

“Yeah, right. I forgot.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you did. You never forget anything important,” Val said.

“Yes, I did. And I'm sorry.” Wyatt tossed the clothes onto the bed and reached down, taking both of Val's hands in his, then pulled him up and stepped close. He wrapped both arms around Val and held him tightly. Val rested his forehead against Wyatt's and shuddered. Cupping the back of Val's head, Wyatt tightened his grip. He turned his head and kissed Val's cheek, then pushed him down into the chair again.

“Now, you're going to sit down, and I'm going to get dressed. I want you to listen to me.” Wyatt pulled off his sweats and put the suit on. “I promise you that you are not here alone. I'm going to be with you every minute.”

“I didn't think it would bother me so much,” Val said, his voice was weak and a bit shaky.

Wyatt finished pulling on his socks and shoes. He moved closer to Val and crouched in front of him, both hands flat on Val's thighs. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. A maniac attacked you—
violently
—and almost killed you at the place we're about to go to. You told me the Belmont Stakes was your favorite race, this was your favorite track, and you weren't going to let what happened here ruin it for you. So, I want you to concentrate on the horse you named running in this race, and your best friend who very well could be the first woman jockey to win the Triple Crown.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Take what happened and remember it, but put it in its place. Don't let it take you over, and if it gets too big for you? Listen to my voice and concentrate on that, and you'll be just fine.” Wyatt stood up and held out his hand to Val. “Now we can go.”

If Wyatt thought race day at the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness Stakes was hectic, exciting, and preparation for today, he was completely wrong. The minute they were in the park, finding a place in the car lot, there was an electric current of excitement coursing through the air. People wore T-shirts and carried banners with Janelle and Dreamspinner's picture as they'd galloped across the finish line three weeks earlier in Baltimore.

Val cheered up immediately once they joined other racegoers for breakfast; later they would watch the race with Rod Duncan, Dreamspinner's owner and trainer, in the owners' box. There were a few instances when Val would draw close and casually slip his hand into Wyatt's when the business of how they'd thwarted a gambling scheme was mentioned. Of course the fact it had been blown wide open at Belmont Park during a qualifying race for the Kentucky Derby was part of today's race news.