Chapter Twenty-Four

“What’s with Roman, Janny?” the General asked.

Jan kept her eyes on the road, wondering if it was such a good idea they’d decided to drive together to Madeline’s. She glanced in the rear view mirror at Elwood. The dog peered out the window of the Volvo station wagon, minding his own business. If only the General would as well.

“Janny?”

Play ignorant. “What do you mean, Dad?”

“Just like that day I tried to work with Roman on Sidney’s eulogy. His mind’s always on you like you’re the center of his universe. At the restaurant, same thing.”

“He’s playing bodyguard.” She shot a glare at her father. “You’re the one who ordered him not to leave my side.”

Jan caught a smile of satisfaction from her father. Still, he growled out his next words, “He seems obsessed, Janny.”

“Really?” Jan said, liking the idea even though she didn’t believe it. “What makes you think so?”

“Well, for one thing, he’s following us to Madeline’s.”

“What?” Jan said, feeling goose bumps rise on her arms. She squinted into the rear view mirror and saw a gray Camry and a big black SUV. No Beemer in sight. “Where is he?” she asked.

At the stoplight, she turned to her father. “You sure he’s behind us?”

The General nodded, looking smug. “And I think I saw him the day we met up with Tess and her brother.”

When the light turned green, Jan eased slowly into the traffic, feeling unhinged when she remembered sensing Roman’s presence that day. He knows I met with Tess. My God, maybe he slept with me so I’d tell him about Tess.

She wanted to look more closely at the cars following her, but the task of driving on the busy streets of San Luis Obispo prevented it. “Are you positive, Dad?”

“Positive he’s following us today. Almost certain he tailed us the other day.” The General cleared his throat. “You still think it’s all about bodyguard duty?”

Jan shook her head. “You were with me both days, Dad. Roman had no reason to double team.” She slammed the steering wheel with her palm. “He wants the story. He’s obsessed with it, not me.”

When she felt his hand on her arm, she forced herself to calm down. “It’s okay. At least he’s predictable. Always after the dirt.” Taking a right turn on Foothill, she skirted the Cal Poly University campus and looked for the turn to the Barker’s house.

“Two blocks more, then a left, Janny.”

“Thanks,” she said taking a deep breath. “Enough of Roman. Let’s figure out how to deal with Madeline. I hope she’s alone. If she’s not, we’ll have to make an excuse to speak to her in private.”

“You do the talking, Janny. I’ll nod, repeat important points and glare when needed.”

She pulled into the driveway, shut off the engine and faced her father. “Madeline’s going to be devastated when she hears what we have to say. This feels awful.”

They got out of the car, with Jan holding Elwood, and scanned the street looking for Roman’s Beemer. No sign of it. With a shrug, Jan moved toward the front steps, but the General reached for Jan’s arm, stopping her. “Think of it this way, Janny. Madeline needs her kids, now, more than ever. Until she accepts the truth about Cliff Barker and cancels the memorial, her children will be lost to her.”

She nodded, preparing to walk to the door, but her father’s grip on her arm tightened. Puzzled, she looked at the General. “What, Dad?”

“I know what it’s like to almost lose a kid, Janny.”

“Dad, you…”

He gripped tighter. “I need you in my life, sweetheart.” He swallowed, seeming unable to embellish his statement. When he’d cleared his throat, he said, “Let’s make sure Madeline gets her kids back, too.”

Jan leaned over to kiss her father on the cheek. She smiled when she said, “Aye, aye, sir.”

****

Tailing Big Ears was easy this time. Roman knew Jan and her father’s destination but Big Ears probably didn’t, so Roman’s only job was to keep his Beemer two or three cars behind the big black car. He made the turn to Foothill Boulevard, three cars behind the SUV, mulling over his strategy. If he could get the man to admit to being payrolled by the mayor, or find some evidence to prove the mayor employed the goon, Roman would have the story of the year.

He squeezed the steering wheel. “And that’s why I’m here, Jazz. This is what I do.”

Still, as he watched the SUV take a turn and park on a side street, he felt a palpable crack in his confidence. He’d never jumped in on a case when his antagonists threatened harm. Big Ears and the men who’d roughed up the General were dangerous people. My dumpster diving caused this. He shrugged, dismissing any thought of returning to Bella’s house. If anything happened to Jan or her father because of him, he’d never forgive himself.

Adrenaline pumping, Roman watched the Volvo turn into a driveway. The SUV slowed and took a right hand turn at the end of the block. Roman eased into a parking spot well beyond the Barker driveway, put on sunglasses and left his car.

Empty street, no pedestrians. Good. Roman considered his empty hands. Bad. No weapon. Completely vulnerable. How did he expect to save Jan unprepared?

He trotted to the front of the Barker home, stopped and pretended to consult his phone, an excuse to survey the property. While the Barker’s landscaping obscured most of the house, he spied Jan’s white Volvo parked in the turn-around.

Where was Big Ears?

Strolling to the side street, Roman spied the SUV. Looked empty. Damn, the guy had snuck up to the house already.

He sprinted to the car, alert for prying eyes. None. He tried the passenger door. Locked. He ran to the driver’s door and pulled on the latch. Yes!

The seat was piled with napkins, cigarettes, chips, fast food wrappings, and porn magazines. Motorcycle helmet. One of the General’s muggers from the Euc forest? The motorcyclist who tried to run Jan down on El Campo and left her lying in a faint at the side of the road? You piece of shit.

A search through the rubble came up with a cell phone. He pocketed it, jogged to the front of the Barker’s house and sidled behind a tree on the corner of the property.

Now he had to find a weapon, locate Big Ears, and make sure the turkey left his girl alone.

“My girl?” Roman mumbled, chiding himself. “If she were my girl, I’d be inside that house, at her invitation. Instead, I’m hiding behind bushes on the outside looking in.”

Again.

****

Madeline Barker’s exuberant welcome distressed Jan so much, she couldn’t sit down. When the woman excused herself to get coffee, the General made a beeline for the biggest chair in the living room. Too jumpy to sit, Jan paced in front of the picture window, mentally fortifying herself for the battle ahead.

The urge to run, to leave this place and the inevitable conflict and pain, was so strong that Jan flexed her hand, gripping her imaginary suitcase. She glanced at her father, sitting calmly next to the fireplace, absentmindedly stroking Elwood. Her brothers had inherited the battle gene from this man. Why hadn’t she?

She took note of Elly’s quiet demeanor. The dog hadn’t growled at Madeline since their arrival. Great. That left the dirty work to her.

Silently she cursed Cliff Barker, a man who cared more for politics than his family. He was the cause of this tragic state of affairs and she resented the hell out of him.

“Janny?” The General squinted at her.

“I’m okay, Dad.” She smoothed the front of her dress and centered her diamond necklace. “I may not be battle-ready, but if I keep Tess and her sibs lined up in my mind, I think I can do this.” And maybe if I help them, I won’t hear children crying in my faint dreams anymore.

The General leaned forward in the chair. “Of course you can.”

She squared her shoulders, a soldier preparing for a mission.

At the sound of dishes rattling, Jan and her father looked toward the kitchen. Movement outside the dining room’s double French doors caught her attention. Elwood’s ears perked and he barked while he trotted to the window wall of the huge dining area.

“Dang dog,” the General groused.

“You know, Dad. I think it’s time we paid attention to Elly. When he’s agitated enough not to track shadows, that means something. If Roman’s out there, Elly wouldn’t be barking. Maybe someone else could have followed us here.”

The General shot out of the chair. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Take my phone, dad. Call 911 if you have to. I’ll keep Elly with me on his leash so he doesn’t get into trouble.”

She thought of Roman and his obsession for facing reality. The truth freed people, he’d say. Well, Jan was going to start paying attention to her dreams and her dog. And it was time for Madeline Barker to see her husband for who he was, or, like the General said, she’d never get her children back.

I’ve spent my life dancing away from truth with Frank as my partner in crime.

Another gaze out the window brought Roman to mind a second time. How would he handle Madeline if he were here? She recalled the series of interviews she’d observed him conduct. Charming and earnest. Firm. A truth seeker.

She took a breath, feeling better now that she had Roman’s technique in mind, just as Madeline arrived with a tray of coffee and cookies. Jan marveled at how trim the widow looked in her sweater and trousers, pearls dangling from her ears and three strands of pearls draped perfectly around her neck. The woman’s face was a study in graciousness; she seemed delighted to serve them. Now that Jan understood what secrets the woman carried, Jan wondered about the energy it must take for Madeline to carry on a normal life. Even now, she barely registered the fact that the General stood guard in the dining room, alert for whatever danger lurked in the back yard. A father protecting his daughter.

How can I have sympathy for a mother who failed to protect her children?

Jan cleared her throat, summoning courage and purpose. “How nice of you, Madeline. Dad and I were just saying how good a cup of coffee would taste. We’ve had a busy morning working a memorial for another client.”

Madeline distributed the coffee and sat on the couch, her own cup in hand. Jan took a seat opposite her and the General remained between the dining room and the living room, on sentry duty. While they drank, they discussed the weather.

Jan set down her coffee. Get on with it. “Remember we told you our first obligation as planners is to the survivors of the deceased?”

She nodded, her smile fading.

“We design memorials that help family members move on, improving their lives in some way.”

Madeline was silent.

Jan took a deep breath while she rested her hand on Elly’s head, sensing tension there. Or was the anxiety her own? “If we let Cliff’s memorial go on, your children will suffer.”

Color drained from Madeline’s face. “No they won’t. I want—”

With her palm up, Jan said, “Hear us out, please.” When the woman settled in her chair, Jan went on. “We know the mayor’s extremely supportive of this big memorial. In fact, he has a vested interest in the event. Did you know he’s going to announce he’s taking your husband’s place as a candidate for State Senator?”

She looked shocked. “At a funeral? He wouldn’t do that when we’re honoring Cliff. I can’t believe…”

“It’s true. He’s got the newspapers all lined up, telling them to expect a special announcement on Saturday morning. We found out he’s filed for the office and he’s planning a rally on Saturday night.”

“How did you…?”

“Dad and I are in the business, with our ears to the ground. He’s got caterers ready to serve food, and he’s hired a band to play in a restaurant we used for another event. People talk, Madeline. This is a small town, with so few secrets.”

“How dare he…” she started, befuddled.

“I’m sure he’ll be subtle so he doesn’t come off as a blatant opportunist. He’ll rave about your husband’s qualities, then, seeming humble, so unworthy, he’ll vow to lead Cliff’s causes. He’ll maintain he’s picking up a great man’s fallen baton. But make no mistake, he’ll use the occasion as a platform.”

Madeline put a hand to her forehead and said, “I won’t let him speak, I—”

Jan interrupted. “The power industry is paying the tab for the rally and it appears they’ll give generously to his campaign. Cliff’s memorial has become vital to Mayor Simpson’s political future. Our point is the mayor’s pushing you to expand the celebration for his own purposes. Your children were willing to support you if you held a small ceremony; you’ve forced them to take extraordinary means to stop this monster of a memorial.”

The widow set her coffee down and put her hands to her face. Her voice muffled, she said, “My children hate me.”

Jan glanced at her father, who nodded, his eyes sad. She continued, keeping her voice quiet but firm. “Your children still care about you, Madeline, but you must let go of the memorial.”

“It’s too late,” she said in a small voice.

“What the mayor has made you do is stage a ceremony focusing on Cliff’s strengths, when we all know the man was terribly cruel to your children. Perhaps you thought a big memorial would erase Cliff’s errors and heal those he hurt. The effect is the opposite on your children. Where once they’d simply turned their backs on their father, you’re forcing them to retaliate. In truth, they preferred to keep Cliff Barker’ cruelties a secret from the world, but now that you’ve decided to tout the man as a hero, they’re willing to stop you by exposing the truth about him.”

Jan glanced at the General. Another nod from him and she continued. “Madeline. Please look at me.”

The woman raised her head from her hands.

“My father has been mugged and Elwood injured by people attempting to stop us from researching Cliff’s history. We can’t prove it, but we think the mayor sent the men who threatened my father. The other day, a motorcyclist tried to run me down when I was taking a walk near my house. Someone came into my house and stole a thumb drive. These people, whoever they are, are determined to stop us from revealing Cliff’s past.” She pointed to the yard behind the dining room. “In fact, we think they might be outside your house right now.”

Noting the shocked expression on Madeline’s face, Jan continued. “My father and I have seen some astonishing medical reports, proof of Cliff’s history of violence against your children. As a result, we’ve promised two things to Tess and Ryan. Number one: keep Cliff’s history of abuse a secret until you and your children are mentally prepared to reveal the truth about him to the world. Number two: cancel the memorial.”

Madeline narrowed her eyes. “You can’t cancel. Not without my approval.”

“It’s true aborting the event would be less confusing if your signature were on the announcement, but I could make it pretty difficult for you to carry on. I’d get out of the church and food contracts and let the singers and the ensemble go. Plus I have e-mails of all attendees. I’d persuade every speaker and mourner that the memorial has been canceled.”

Madeline’s eyes rounded. “The money! At this late date, we’d still have to pay.”

Jan shook her head. “My contracts have exit clauses, worded just so.” She looked at her watch. “In one hour, I can pull the plugs. We’ll lose a few modest deposits, which my father and I will cover.”

“How would I explain all this to the mayor?”

“You won’t. I will. I’ll say your family has decided to mourn in private, in seclusion, so you want no phone calls and no visitors. Dad and I recommend you stay with Tess for awhile.”

Madeline raised an eyebrow. “She wants me?”

“She does. In fact, she’s invited the rest of your kids to stay over as well. They’ve all agreed to spend the weekend with you if you stop the memorial.”

Jan released Elwood to pad over to Madeline, dragging his leash behind him. He nudged her leg until she dropped a hand to pet him. She sighed, seeming to steel herself for what came next. “The children never had a dog. Cliff forbade it.” She gave a wry smile. “All of them own dogs now.” While her eyes stayed on Elwood, her voice was thin with regret. “Six children, born so close together, were too much for me. Looking back, I think I had long bouts of post-partum depression after each birth, when I could barely manage an infant, much less toddlers. Cliff worked all day, so they grew up wild. He’d get home, usually after dinner when the kids were already in bed, to find me in tears, distraught over how mean the children were to me and to each other. Tired and tense from his struggles as a new lawyer, he wasn’t in his right mind to discipline children, but he was incensed by their behavior. He’d demand details about what the children had done, then make me go to bed and shut our bedroom door. He forbade me to observe how he meted out their punishment.

“The next day, the children were quiet and seemed contrite, so I didn’t complain. Seemed like every three or four days, I’d fall apart and Cliff would have to pick up the pieces. For those first ten years I lived in a daze of diapering, cooking, cleaning, and sewing, trying to save money as well as support Cliff socially.”

“So you don’t know precisely how he disciplined your children after you went to bed?”

Madeline sighed, looking guilty. “I wasn’t in the state of mind to ask and I think he threatened the children so they wouldn’t tell me. In truth, I was numb, too tired to care.” She closed her eyes, seeming to realize how weak she sounded, how such a statement of ignorance maligned her.

“Things were better after that. I got medication, the children pitched in to help and I learned how to be a mother. A good one.” She put her hand to her forehead. “None of us spoke of those days, yet, whatever happened drove a wedge between my children and their father. He worked longer hours, seeming relieved not to be integral in their lives. I spent more time with Cliff by myself, attending functions and presiding over dinners with his important contacts. As the years went on, my children chose to ignore their father altogether.”

She opened her hands as if to show her helplessness regarding the rift between father and progeny. “Every one of my children left the house, never to return, by the age of 18.” Wringing her hands she said, “But not one wished to speak of why, even though I begged them to tell me their reasons.”

Rubbing her eyes, she said, “I thought the memorial might take away the pain or at least counter their bitterness.” With a sigh, she said, “I’m so ashamed of those early years. God help me, but I wanted to forget them as much as my children seem to want to.”

Jan took a deep breath. “I have no choice but to tell you of your husband’s discipline methods, Madeline. At this point your children realize it’s the only way to change your mind about the memorial.”

Holding her head between her hands, Madeline closed her eyes and waited for the words she’d been afraid to hear her whole life.

Jan used the voice of a reporter, stating the facts. “He usually hauled them out of bed by their legs, enraged but silent because he wanted you to get your sleep. If your children spoke or squealed, if they made any sound at all, he’d pinch their arms or legs or bellies so hard he bruised them. Hair pulling became a favorite. He’d yank clumps of their hair out as he dragged them from one chore to the next. Like Fagan in Oliver Twist, he’d take pleasure in hearing them moan in pain. If they cried, he’d pinch them harder. If they protested, he’d twist their arms.”

Madeline’s mouth opened in astonishment. “Ryan? Cliff broke his arm?”

“Yes. Ryan told me about that incident. The memory’s as fresh in his mind as if it happened yesterday. Cliff had him using a toothbrush to clean every inch of the tile in the bathrooms. After two hours at the job, Ryan fell asleep. When Cliff found him curled on the floor, he twisted Ryan’s arm as he lifted him up.

Clutching her stomach, Madeline groaned, “No. No. Ryan said he fell.”

“Ryan lied to you. He says all the kids kept the truth from you partly because Cliff said he’d kill them if they told. Over time, shame rendered them mute. To admit their famous father became a werewolf at night? They didn’t think anyone would believe them, including you.”

Madeline plucked a handkerchief from under her sleeve and hid her eyes with it.

Jan continued. “He made them take flashlights into the yard to dig out weeds, hoe the garden and pick snails off the plants. In the house, he had them washing floors and toilets, polishing silver and brass. If they didn’t work fast enough or carefully enough, he pinched them or pulled hair or socked them in their stomachs.”

Jan noted her father’s raised eyebrows. Even the military man was shocked at the image of Cliff’s discipline and disturbed by a mother who couldn’t protect her children against such cruelty.

Madeline must have caught the General’s expression. “I didn’t know.” She wagged her head. “But it’s true, I didn’t want to know.”

“That’s not all.”

“Please,” Madeline said. “I’m not sure I can bear any more.”

Jan took a breath. “He humiliated them in front of each other. When he dragged them out of bed, he made them take their clothes off and work naked. Tess said they got to wear clothes only if they were assigned outside. He’d whisper cruel comments about their pre-puberty bodies and demand they agree with his assessments. Worse, he required them to gang up on one other, only satisfied when their nasty appraisals of each other were as cruel as his were.

“Worst of all,” said Jan, “He set them up to rat on one another. The youngest ones were easy prey, dying for approval from their father. They’d tattle to get praise from Cliff, then sit back while he meted out punishment.” Jan shook her head. “Essentially, they went underground, controlling each other cruelly, using covert physical abuse and mental torture. Cliff’s work was done, only needing reinforcement, say monthly.”

Shoulders sagging, one hand held to her eyes, Madeline said, “I knew they hated their father. Two of my children made suicide attempts. I assume that’s in the medical report you saw. Our youngest son, when he turned sixteen, hit Cliff and broke his nose before he went to live with Tess.” She dropped her head, seeming unable to bear its weight. “Cliff loved me. How could he cherish me and be such a horrible father?” She rubbed her eyes. “I envisioned the memorial taking away the pain.”

Madeline mopped the tears from her face. Looking frail and sad, she lifted Elwood to her lap and hugged him, pulling energy from the animal. “Cancel it. I’ll go into seclusion with Tess and my children.” She sighed. “I’m so ashamed. How can I face them?”

“We’ve recommended a counselor to Tess. Your daughter’s going to hire that person to work with the whole family.”

“Poor Tess. She’s taken the brunt of it.”

Jan sat beside Madeline. Grasping the woman’s hand, Jan said, “She’ll heal with your help. You’re the key to her full recovery. Think of the difference you can make in her life with this decision.”

With a glance at her watch, Jan said. “We need you to pack right now. Once I cancel, the press will swarm—”

“Bang!” came a sound from the kitchen, followed by a grunt and a loud thump.

“What in the—?” Jan popped out of her chair, her eyes on her father.

The General, looking fierce with concern, made for the fireplace, picking up a poker. Elwood hopped out of Madeline’s arms and took off for the kitchen.

“Elly,” Jan shouted, fearing for the dog. “Come here!”

With a gesture to Madeline to stay seated, Jan strode to her father’s side, eyes on the kitchen entry off the dining room. She thought about picking up the fireplace shovel, but before she could grab it, Roman entered the dining room with a wriggling Elwood under one arm, a length of two by four clutched in his other hand.

She put a palm to her heart in a fruitless attempt to slow its beat. Blood emptied from her head even as she took a step to peek into the kitchen, amazed to see a man lying on the floor. She crumpled to the carpet, registering the shock on Roman’s face before she blacked out.

****

Jan hummed, smiling as the vibration filled her mouth and the sound magically moved through the air to signal Roman. He could be across the room and he’d register her need, take note of her stillness and rush to her side. God, the power of a hum. “Baby,” he’d say. “You called.” A statement. A fact. A favorite ritual they’d perfected over years of learning about each other. Of loving each other.

She’d nod, kiss him, and whisper “I’m yours.” With an upraised eyebrow, she’d always beg him for permission to move. But in this, his favorite ritual, he’d shake his head with a No-I’m-in-charge gaze. Inhaling deeply to quiet her bustling self, she’d give herself to Roman’s ministrations. Deep kisses first, his stolid body so close to hers she could feel him harden against her thigh while sweet pain built up inside her. He’d unbutton her blouse and push it off her shoulders, thumbs caressing her breasts even as her shirt fluttered to the floor. The mixture of lust and wonder in his expression as he released her bra and gently discarded it…the way he encircled her breasts with his hands and tweaked her nipples before he dipped to kiss them. Now she’d be humming to keep herself from moving. He’d recognize the tension, look into her eyes and smile smugly at the knowledge that he’d be the lucky one when she got her chance to focus all her repressed energy into making love to him.

By this time, she’d lose track of what was happening to her. Her shorts and panties would be off before she was aware he’d removed them. Somehow he’d taken off his own shirt, pants, and shorts without her knowing when…she was standing right there, not moving, watching him closely, and yet, miraculously, they were both naked, thrumming with need. But she’d learned he wasn’t finished with the ritual. No. One more step of agony mixed with ecstasy. Now he’d kneel, his eyes on hers, piercing and bright. Dizzy with need, she’d put her hands on his shoulders, open her legs, and hum as he lowered his head.

****

Jan hummed as she opened her eyes to find herself in Roman’s arms. Instead of popping up, she relaxed, remembering Pete’s observation about her fainting spells. “It shows you’re sensitive; empathetic.” Considering her dreamy interlude with Roman, she might have to add “sensual” to Pete’s list.

“Hey, Jazz,” Roman said. “How are you doing?”

“Took a quick nap. Got my blood flowing correctly after a little lie-down.”

He smiled. “Good for you. How was the faint dream?”

“No more crying children. This time you were in it, in a very good way.”

“Oh, I like that. Ready to sit up?”

“I am.”

Roman and the General helped her rise and seat herself in a dining room chair with a view to the big country kitchen. To Madeline, wringing her hands in the corner of the room Jan said, “I’m fine. I’ll sort this mess out in a minute.”

Roman managed a crooked smile, conveying a curious mix of bravado and guilt.

She pushed the faint dream aside to deal with the present. “Damn. You and what’s his face heard everything Madeline told us.”

From Madeline: “Who is he? Who are they?”

Jan jerked a thumb at Roman. “We know this guy but not the one on the kitchen floor.”

“Did he come with you?” Madeline asked Roman.

The General raised the fireplace poker when a groan came from the prone man. “Who the hell is he?”

Roman squinted into the kitchen and picked up his two by four. “He’s the intruder. I tapped him with this to keep him from bothering you,” he said, holding the weapon aloft. Roman turned to Madeline. “Roman Keller at your service, ma’am. If you find us some rope, I’ll tie him up. Then we’ll call the police.”

She scurried away on a rope-finding mission.

Jan peered at the man lying on the kitchen floor, a tire iron still clutched in his hand.

“Who is he, Roman?”

“Big Ears, I call him. An employee of our esteemed mayor, I’ve deduced.”

“Really?” The General corralled and calmed Elwood before he stepped up to stand guard over the fellow on the floor. “How do you know?”

Roman reached into his pocket for a cell phone. “Big Ear’s. Direct line to the mayor’s office. I think we’ll find a record of constant contact with Simpson.”

“What is he doing here, and how did you…?” Jan asked.

Roman rested his hand on her shoulder and rubbed his thumb against her skin, just barely, evoking a caress, an apology, a warning…maybe all of the above. Roman said, “He followed you here. I tailed him by car and figured he’d gotten into the house, so I snuck in, too.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You both heard everything we said?”

He shrugged. “I knew he was somewhere close, listening in. I was trying to be quiet in my search so he didn’t know I was looking for him.” He raised his hands in a what-could-I-do gesture.

“You heard everything.”

“I got the gist of it.” He inclined his head in the direction of Big Ears. “He did too. I caught him coming out of the pantry with the tire iron, so I thumped him on the head with this.” He raised the two by four.

“You heard everything,” Jan repeated.

“I couldn’t find him, Jan. I had to be quiet in my search for him, so I…”

She shook her head, amazed. Roman’s expression screamed adrenaline rush…a journalist turned on by the story of the century. A man who would sleep with her to get information on Tess. The Barker children’s secret wasn’t safe in Roman’s hands.

“You’re canceling the memorial, right?” he asked, green eyes bright with interest.

“We are. But I won’t give the real reason to the public. I’m begging you not to, either.”

He frowned. “I have no choice. The world needs to know how cruel Cliff Barker was to his children.”

Jan put her finger to her lips as Madeline hurried into the kitchen, a rope coiled on her arm. “Will this do?” she asked, white-faced, staring at the man on the floor as if to assure herself he was real.

The General took the rope from Madeline and guided her to a seat in the living room, murmuring soothing words to her. “I’ll call the cops,” the General said. Roman grabbed the rope from him and went to work on Big Ears.

Bending down so only Roman could hear her speak, Jan said, “Madeline and the children get to decide when Barker’s history of abuse hits the papers. They’re hurting, Roman, with a long way to go before they can admit what really went on in their family. We’ve got the kids’ mental health at stake, here.”

Roman stopped mid-tie and stared at Jan. “He was a public figure who pretended he was a ‘family values’ man. Hell, he was running on a platform that guaranteed health insurance for every kid under eighteen while he tortured his own kids in the dead of night.”

“I know. I want the man exposed for his deceit as much as you do, but Madeline and the kids deserve to be the ones to make the call. On their timeline.”

“What about Mayor Simpson, who’s taking a ride to the Senate on Barker’s so-called righteous coattails? You want to let him get away with that, duping the public when you know he’s the one who sent Big Ears and his tire iron after you?”

Jan stared at the man groaning on the kitchen floor. “We’ll tell Simpson to leave us alone, giving him a taste of what we know. Without the memorial, he…”

With a final pull on the rope knot around Big Ear’s ankles, Roman stood and closed in on Jan. “He, her, them? How many other people will glorify Cliff Barker when the man should be vilified? Simpson is the tip of the iceberg. Barker was a public figure, known and falsely idolized by thousands of people. A limited e-mailing won’t do, Jan. Everyone needs to know the truth about the man.”

“At the expense of his family? One on the brink of suicide? They need help, time, and the power to tell all when they’re ready.”

“What if they’re never ready?”

Jan peered into the living room to see the General and Elly comforting Madeline. To Roman, she said, “It’s so simple for you, isn’t it? Tell the world the bald truth. If a few people are casualties, tough. What you won’t admit is that you’re into timing these exposés for the biggest drama, the most shock value. Your rush, your reputation. Your story.”

Feeling dizzy with the turmoil, she put her palm to her forehead.

“Jazz?” Roman asked, his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

“No.” She looked at her watch and gasped. “I’ve got half an hour to stop this memorial.” Madeline would need more calming. Danger to the Barkers loomed, the man on the floor, solid evidence. Instead of taking Madeline to Tess’s, they might do better to hide the whole family. “I’ll leave the General here to help you deal with the police.”

Jan drilled Roman with her eyes. “Consider yourself thanked for saving us from the big-eared guy, but not for tailing me and learning secrets you had no right to hear.” She thought she saw sadness in his eyes. No, it was a trick of the light. She blinked away the hope. “And not for the exposé you’re itching to write.”

When he averted his eyes, she tensed. “Fine. You’ll do what you have to, Roman. I’m off to cancel the memorial and confront the mayor while the General helps hide the family.”

Roman nodded.

“We are who we are.”

Again, Roman nodded, oddly silent for a man so at ease with words.

“Goodbye, Roman.” She turned and strode away, listing in her head the next steps and composing the text of the cancellation message. The bustling felt familiar and right.

It was the feel of tears coursing down her cheeks that surprised her.