In the House On Lakeside Drive (29 page)

“I'm not following.”

“Josh was a pain in the ass sometimes—well, a lot---but he was simple. He didn't care about all the other stuff. He wanted his tree because it was tall.” Evan paused. “And he…he could say he picked it out. The rest didn't matter.”

“That sounds like what I know of Josh.”

“Eric, he had no idea why all of that crap was happening to them. None. Not a clue whatsoever. But when I…when I got dragged in there, I saw this little look on his face. Like, he knew things were gonna be all right, because I was there.” Evan's head sunk. “And look what happened.”

Eric let his friend stare at the tree in silence a moment. “What happened?”

“Bastard Dayton tells Cooper Lavelle he's through with the kids, and Lavelle starts dragging Remy with him like he was some prize turkey. Remy says he's not going anywhere—a first for him, considering what usually happens when Cooper shows up.” Evan turned. “Then Cooper tells his lackeys to shoot one of the others—Sam or Josh, it didn't matter.” The words grew thick. “It all happened so fast. I could see that fat asshole smirking as he raised his arm to shoot Sam. The funny thing is, I think Josh saw it too. Next thing I knew, Josh kicks the guy holding him, wriggles free, and leaps on top of Sam just as the shot is fired.” The thin man leaned against the chopping block, resting against it as a makeshift seat. “What the hell was he
thinking
?”

Eric shrugged. “It sounds like he was trying to save his friend.”

“And, as usual, he didn't think it through.” Evan shook his head. “In the end, it's still my fault. I should have gotten my ass up off the floor, or told him to stay still, or…”

“And then we'd be mourning Sam, or you, or both. How is that any better, Evan?”

Evan went on as if he hadn't heard. “Seconds. Literally, it was seconds. And then he laid there, dead…o-on top o-of Sam…” He turned away. “L-later, Sam kept asking what was on top of him. I…I didn't…I didn't know h-how to tell h-him that i-it was Josh, or wh-what was l-left of h-him…” The tears came, and Evan let them fall.

“Evan, there wasn't anything you could have done. Not without getting yourself or Sam killed. You didn't pull the trigger.”

A few deep breaths echoed into the chilled air, and Evan wrapped the paint-splattered arms of his overcoat tightly around his torso, more to calm himself than to keep warm. “I might as well have, Eric,” he cried, straining to compose himself. “He was looking for me.”

“Who was?”

“Dayton, that selfish, self-centered
asshole
!” A worn black leather boot kicked out at the chopping block. “Ow.” Evan held his foot and sat on top of the abused stump. “Most people like him, you'd think they'd try to get back to whatever it was they were doing before they went in, but not him. No. He wants to play cat-and-mouse.” The sound of the cold breeze wafting through the thick stands of trees surrounded both men. “Did you know he was watching us, for weeks?”

“How do you know?”

“He told me. Crowed about it when I went to the house to meet him. Said he'd been watching since before the holidays.” Eric saw his friend shiver visibly, and while it wasn't particularly warm for an early February day, it wasn't that cold outside. “I just keep thinking, it could have been Rachel. He could have thought she was…”

“But he didn't. He took the kids.” Eric sighed. “I'm a counselor, not a psychoanalyst. That said, it seems obvious to me he knew exactly where to strike.” He stepped closer to his friend, who was struggling to keep it together. “You love them. All of them.”

“And look what happened. Rachel's a mess. Remy's barely functioning. Josh is gone. Sam…” A blond head shook, wisps of thin hair flying in the breeze. “Sam's not sure of anything. He blames himself, for what happened.”

“Not unlike someone else I know.”

“Sam was innocent. Remy and Josh too.” Evan stood. “Maybe they're better off, without someone like me to screw things up.”

Without warning, a fist collided with Evan's face. “Fucking hell, Eric!” the handyman yelped. “What the…?”

“No,” the curly-haired man snapped. “No, you fucking don't.” He stood tense, ready to take a blow if Evan should throw it. Wide eyes watched as Evan cradled his jaw, which was starting to turn a rich shade of purple. “I know you too well, Evan Dyer, or whatever the hell your name is today. Rachel is everything to you.
Those kids
are everything to you. Don't you for one fucking minute think that running again is going to solve any of this. How'd it work for you the last time?”

“Don't. You don't know what…”

“Then tell me. I've heard you, talking to Rachel. “Secrets opened the door to all this,” you said. Secrets
didn't
put those kids in danger, and cost one of them their life. Greedy, selfish, amoral assholes did that. You want to stop running, hold on to what you have? 'Cause from where I'm standing, it's worth sticking around for.”

Evan closed his eyes. “She'd be a fool to keep me. Remy and Sam? I'm surprised they don't blame me more for what happened. Likely as not the house'll be shut down, and then what? What happens to Remy then? There's no one left, Eric. No one.”

“Then come clean. We've gotten bits and pieces of what happened in…what is it? North or South Carolina?”

“North Carolina. Small town near Chapel Hill.”

“Fine. Start there. And this time, don't leave anything out. Not one thing, or so help me God, I'll hit you again. And I'm not a violent man, Evan. You know that.” Eric strode back to his frigid deck chair and sat, looking expectantly at the man before him.

Evan sighed, looking nervously around him as though searching for a way out. He took a breath. “I…I was forced into pharmacy school.”

“Forced? How so?”

“My father. He was a rich, successful asshole who expected nothing less from his sons. By the time I left high school, I already had an ulcer from the pressure. Then he shows me my acceptance papers into a pharmacy program and tells me it's that or nothing.
Nothing
was not a real option. I'd never had a job; there was always money, so working part-time was frowned upon. I didn't qualify for student loans, not the kind I didn't have to repay immediately anyway. No experience, no hope of finding a way out, so I caved and went.”

“Miserable?”

“There were days I seriously contemplated suicide.” Evan looked at the ground, ashamed. “I was a coward. My father literally held all the cards, and even my mother took the easy option. She drank herself to death. Not unlike Cooper Lavelle, but she had more decorum about it than that asshole could ever possess. Once I started my internship, it only got worse. The pharmacy folks were nice enough, but the job…” The angular head shook. “I ended up with scripts for amphetamines to focus and antianxiety pills to calm the fuck down. My internist in Carolina said I was on a fast track to a nervous breakdown.”

“Explains what happened after that guy called, saying he had the kids.”

“I was due. Anyway, those types of drugs are highly controlled—the Adderall more than the Xanax, but they keep an eye on the latter as well—so eventually I'd start ‘losing' a couple of bottles and get emergency refills. I was going through them too fast.”

“Hence the addiction.”

Evan nodded. “Finally I realized I couldn't keep that up, so I had to find someone who dealt secondhand. Stealing from my pharmacy, it just wasn't an option. I was an addict, but I wasn't about to throw everything else down the drain. Finally I ran into Dayton. We'd known each other from grade school, and he sold to me for a while.”

“And it went south when…?”

“I got behind on my payments. He'd floated me a few pills, but that was adding up fast. I owed Dayton about a thousand dollars, and I couldn't hide it in my expense account.” Evan paused. “My father had control of my bank accounts too, seeing as I wasn't working at anything that paid. If I'd have taken the money out without being able to justify it, he would have owned my ass.”

“Wow. And I thought my old man was tough.”

“I hated him. Still do. I could care less if I ever see him again.” Feet shifted in the snow, crunching as though they were stepping on glass. “He's still alive, far as I know. I don't know how my brothers deal with him.”

“Anyway, what happened?”

Evan snorted. “Dayton comes demanding payment. I blew him off, offered to catch up once I got a real pharmacy job—you know, actually getting paid. He saw the place I interned at, a bigger pharmacy not unlike Hanover's. Then he gets the idea that I could pay him off by feeding him pills to sell.”

“You didn't…”

“Of course not. I offered him double what I owed to forget the idea, and for a while he let it drop.”

Eric chuckled darkly, without mirth. “Guessing that didn't last.”

“One night I get a call. It's him. Says he's got a plan, and that I need to let him into the pharmacy. I tell him I don't have keys, and I can't just let him in. He got mad and said he was getting in one way or another. I dropped the phone and I ran like hell over there. The lead pharmacist was working that night, and I pulled him into the little office he had and spilled my guts—the addiction, Dayton, everything. I told him that Dayton was coming, and thankfully Keith believed me enough to call the police. An hour later, Dayton shows up with a crew of three guys, all armed. We hid in the office and let them break in, with the police hiding outside. Just as he got the door open, he was arrested.”

“All of them?”

“Yes. He saw me come out of the office, and he swore revenge on me right there. Later I had to testify, and I did. My testimony is what put him away for intent and conspiracy to commit armed robbery and breaking and entering, as well as a couple of weapons charges.”

Eric looked confused. “They couldn't get him on an actual robbery charge?”

“Once the police got there, they set it up and waited to see if I was blowing smoke out my ass. Because of that, his fancy lawyer could claim an illegal sting operation. The prosecutors wanted to try him for armed robbery, but conspiracy and intent was the best they could do, because even though they were armed nothing actually got stolen. The intent and the conspiracy were obvious, though, especially after my testimony. The weapons charges just let them have the wiggle room to have him put in prison rather than jail.”

“I knew dealers had money, but a fancy lawyer?”

Evan shook his head. “Dayton did okay, but not that well. He was looking to me to supply him, remember? No, his family was rich, like mine, but more so. Dayton grew up to be one of those entitled brats you see idolized on television. Only difference was, he had a habit of breaking laws and making the family look bad. He never planned to actually
do
anything except inherit and be rich. His dad was a self-made millionaire. He saw his son for what he was and cut him off. Once he was busted, they completely disowned him. The lawyer was the last thing, to my knowledge, that they paid for.”

“Wow.” Eric let out a low whistle. “Talk about rocking someone's world.”

“Three weeks after the trial, I was attacked in my apartment. Someone—I didn't know who it was—tried to cut my throat. I still have a scar.” Evan pointed at the thin line just under his jawline, now nearly invisible. “I'd quit pharmacy school a week prior. My dad was furious, and not only disowned me, but forbade anyone from ever so much as mentioning me in his presence ever again. My bank accounts were closed out, and I was selling off the few things I had just to eat. Thankfully, the old truck was in my name, and paid off, or he'd have had it seized too.” Evan sighed. “I knew who would want me dead, and why. After the attack I threw my stuff into the truck and I ran. I didn't really stop until the old engine died, about a mile from Rachel's. I couldn't prove Dayton had ordered the attack on my life and I didn't want to wait for him to try again.”

“Well, I forgive you for running from that place,” Eric said, offering a hand. Evan clasped it. “No wonder you changed your name.”

“I'd heard the name Evan in between Carolina and Otter Lake. I liked it. It was short, simple, kind of like I was. I was in a shop called Dyer's, and I thought it made a good last name. I felt that if my old man didn't want me, he could keep the name too. I made my own. Plus, I didn't want Dayton finding me, for fear…” He cleared his throat. “I never really felt I was Liam Collier anyway.”

“Liam Collier? That's your original name?”

“Mm-hmm.” The sky began to turn purple, and the sun was blazing like a fiery ball in the west. “But I'm Evan Dyer now. They'll put it on my obituary, too.” At the word, Evan choked up again. “Josh,” he said. “Have they…?”

Eric shrugged. “Knowing Penny, she'll have a service. I'm going to go. So will Becka. You should go too.”

“But…no one will want me there. And Remy…what if people blame him?”

“Why? Why would they? He's not his uncle.”