Chapter Eight - Dayton's Secret

              I came back inside and closed the back door quickly behind me and locked it.  I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Lara’s number.  It rang once.  Then twice, and a third time.

         “C-mon dammit.  Be there.”  I said.

         “Hello?”  She answered. 

         A huge sigh of relief fell over me.

         “Lara, it’s Marty.  Are you at home?  Where are you?”  I asked, loudly.

         “Yeah, I’m at home.  Marty, what’s wrong?”  She asked.

         “You need to get out of their now and go to Sam’s house.  It’s closest.  You’re in danger.  I’ll explain everything in a little bit.  But you need to go now!”

         “Okay Marty.  I’ll leave right now.”

         “Call me when you get to Sam’s!”  I said.

         “I will.”

         “I’ll see you in a few.”  I said, hanging up the phone. 

         My father walked into the kitchen a moment later.

         “Marty, what the hell is going on?”  He asked.

         “I’m guessing your attacker was supposed to leave this with you.”  I said.

         I showed him the military photo of Lara and a scared look fell on his face. 

         “We need to talk.”  I said.

        

         My father sat down on the couch while I sat down across from him on the love seat. 

         “Dad, what the hell is going on here?”  I asked.

“Son, you know as much as I do.”

         “Stop bullshitting me!  You know something.  Tell me what it is now!”  I said, louder, standing up and walking around the living room.

         “Marty, what the hell do you want from me?!” 

         “First Jeni.  Mom dies.  You’re almost killed, and now someone’s targeted Lara.  You’re hiding something.  Tell me what it is or I’ll call forensics in here and I’ll rip this place apart!” 

         “My God.  That’s what you came here for wasn’t it?  To search my place?” 

         “I need answers Dad!”  I screamed.

         “No, you want vengeance for Jeni!  And look at what you’re doing to get it!”  He yelled back.

         “I want justice, dammit!  She deserves that much!” 

         “And you want me to be the fall guy!  You’ve got the wrong guy in your cross-hairs.  Jesus Christ Marty!  I loved Jeni too!”

I stood there for a moment glaring at him, trying to break the seriousness of his look upon me.  I felt my eyes start to get watery.

         “Not as much as I did.”  I said, plopping back down onto the couch.

         At that point, I had exhausted my anger and the feeling in my chest turned to sadness.  I put my head in my hands and just thought about what I could possibly say next. 

         “Did you go to Mom’s funeral?”  I asked.

         “Yeah, I did.”  He replied, in a quieter voice.

         “And…”

         “There were very few people there.  I could count them on one hand.  The ceremony was fairly short.  She wanted to be cremated, and her ashes spread across the water on Lake Michigan.”  He said.

         “Did you do that for her?”  I asked, with my head still buried in my hands.

         “No, someone else was taking care of it.”  He said.

         I tried to imagine my father at the funeral.  What would he have said?  Is he sorry she’s gone?  Does he miss her?  I could easily see only a handful of people in front of her casket.  It’s hard to make friends when you’re too busy making enemies.  She died how she lived.  I pushed the thoughts away as far as possible and focused on my father. 

         “Dad.  I’m going to ask you one more time.  You know something.  What is it?”  I said, looking up at him.  “How did Jeni know about you and Turnovsky and I didn’t?”

         He looked down, let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. 

         “Because I told her.”  He said.  “Jeni was a kind, gentle, good listener.  I thought she could help.”

         “Help with what?”  I asked. 

         “All these years, I’ve tried to protect you from the truth.  The truth about your mother.”

         “My mother?  She was a freaking alcoholic Dad, who gave less than a shit about her family!  She left us!  End of story.”  I said.

“Not exactly.  She left because I threw her out.”  He said.

         “Yeah, because she was a drunk and refused to get help.  I’ve heard the same story a million times Dad!”  I said, with my voice growing louder once again.

         “It wasn’t the drinking that made me throw her out, Marty.”  He said.

         I looked at him giving full attention to what he was about to say.

         “I threw her out because she had an affair.” 

         “What?”  I said.

         His eyes had glazed over at me, as if he was remembering the very events that took place that day in his mind.

         “You asked how Jeni knew about Turnovsky and you didn’t?  He was the man your mother was sleeping with.  My friend.  My own partner.  Milo had an affair with my wife right under my nose.”

         I felt numb to his words.  Surprised was hardly a worthy adjective.

         “Jesus!  Why the hell didn’t you ever tell me about this?”  I said standing up again.

         “Isn’t it obvious?”  He said.

         I turned back toward him.

         “Look back on how you reacted toward the mention of your mother in the past.  Did you really need another reason to hate her!?”  He asked.

         The question stopped me from giving him an answer.  I didn’t need another reason to hate her.  I had enough already.  He was right about that.  But it didn’t justify him covering the truth up for all these years. 

         “No, I guess I didn’t.”  I said, in a quiet voice.  “How did you find out?”  I continued.

         “I suspected your mother was cheating on me fairly early on.  We got into a fight one night, and she left the house.  Without her knowing I followed her back to a hotel where she met Milo a little while later.  I sat out in the car until dawn.  She left early that morning.  I beat her back home, got dressed, came to work, business as usual.  That afternoon I couldn’t bear the thought of her betrayal any longer, so I went home and confronted her about it.  By the time I got there, her bags were already packed in her car.  We fought for a little while longer and-“

         “That was the last time I saw my mother.”  I interrupted.

         “Yep.” 

         “That was the last day I saw her alive.”  He finished. 

         “What about Turnovsky?  Did he murder his wife?” 

         “Technically?  Yes.  Intentionally?  No.”  He said.

         “Then what the hell happened?”  I asked.

         “After your mother left our house, she then went to Milo’s revealing her love for him in front of his wife.  Milo insisted your mother was psychotic and forced her to leave.  But that didn’t stop his wife’s questions.  Like me, she had her suspicions about his loyalty to their marriage early on.  That night she ran upstairs and grabbed the gun

from their nightstand.  Before Milo could catch up to her, she emptied the bullets out of the gun and hid them under the bed.  When Milo came into the bedroom, she pointed the gun at him demanding the truth.  She just wanted to scare him into confessing.  After an intense argument, Milo was sure she was going to shoot, so he fired first, killing his wife.  It wasn’t until later he found that the gun she had wasn’t loaded.” 

         “Oh my God.”  I said. 

         “But that wasn’t the worst part of it.”  He said.  “He didn’t know that I knew the truth about their affair.  After he shot his wife, he called me for help.  I got to the scene shortly before you did and wrote the accurate report of what happened.  But I was still angry.  I hated him for betraying me like that.  I hid the police report I wrote in the safety deposit box, and the case-workers went off the report you filled out.  At the time, I felt I was justified in my actions toward him.  He needed to pay for his betrayal to me and the murder of his wife.  I just never thought they would’ve given him the death penalty.”

         “So when you found out they were going for the death sentence, you tried to defend him didn’t you?”  I asked.

         “Yep.  But it was too late, obviously.  The courts wanted to set an example of him.  Before his death, I did tell him the truth about my knowledge of the affair.  I wanted him to know before he died.  You can imagine his reaction when I told him.” 

         A moment later, my cell phone rang.  It was Lara.

         “Are you at Sam’s?”  I answered.

         “Yeah, I’m here.  I’m fine.  What the hell is going on?”

“I’ll explain when I get there.”  I said.

         I hung up the phone and turned to my father.

         “You’re coming with me.”  I said.

         A little while later, the four of us sat down at Sam’s dinner table to discuss the situation.  I had my father describe in detail what he had told me a short time ago.  I sat next to him listening intently for any changes, but there were none.  When my father finished telling us what happened between the Turnovskys, I told Lara and Sam what happened when I went to my father’s house.  I pulled out the military photograph of Lara and placed it on the table in front of us.  Lara jumped out of her seat abruptly.

         “What the hell is that?!”  She exclaimed.

         “This is why I told you to come here.”  I said. 

         “How does he know me?  Why am I suddenly a target?!”

         “I don’t know, but I promise you, Lara, we’re going to find out.”  I said.

         “This is slowly starting to make sense.”  Sam said.  “Bear with me here.  First, he goes after Jeni, your mother dies the week before, Dayton is attacked tonight, and Lara is his next target.” 

         “What are you getting at Sam?”  Dayton said.

         “I think he’s after you, Martin.”  Sam said, looking at me. 

         I looked over at Sam.  The look on his face illustrated his seriousness.

“So far, he’s gone after everyone close to you.”  Sam continued.

         “But why me?”  I asked.

         “I don’t know.  But one thing is becoming clear, everyone you know, all of us here are in danger.”

         “You said my mother died from alcohol poisoning.”  I said, looking at my father. 

         “Yes, she did.  I don’t think her death is directly related to what’s going on here.  But maybe we can use this.”  My father said.

         “What do you mean?”  Sam said.

         “He may not know that he dropped the photo of Lara yet.  Either way, he doesn’t know we have it.  He may not know that we’re on to him.  We could use that to our advantage.”  He said.

         “What, like you mean set a trap for him?”  I said.

         “Why not?”  He said.

         “Wait a minute.  We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here.  Dayton, there’s one thing I still don’t understand…”  Sam said.  “We saw you drive by at the restaurant the night Jeni died.  We ran out to talk to you but you drove off…why?” 

         The room fell silent and all of our eyes shifted to my father.  He looked down at the table and let out a sigh.

         “I got a phone call a few hours before I went to Marty’s house that night.  I didn’t recognize the voice.  It was disguised by one of those voice-altering gadgets.  The caller said to meet him at the restaurant at 2am.  I asked what it was about and he said it was about my wife.  Your mother.”  He said, looking at me.  “I pushed him further, but he said it was urgent.”

         “2am?  That’s when you and I met there Sam!”  I said.

         “I pulled up to the restaurant and noticed you two inside.  I didn’t want to involve you considering what had just happened, so I got out of there.”  My father said.

         “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”  I said.

         “I didn’t think it was important.”  He said.

         “Well, Dad, if Sam hadn’t mentioned it, would you have told us!?”  I said, raising my voice.

         “I…I don’t know, probably.” 

         “You were just attacked in your own home!  If I hadn’t been there, you might be dead by now!  I’d consider that detail pretty freaking important!”  I said, yelling at him. 

         “Marty, calm down.  Let’s take this one step at a time.”  Sam said.  “Is there anything else that happened that we need to know about?”

         “No, that’s it.”  Dayton said.

         “This could very well mean that Sam and I were sitting in the same restaurant with the killer that night, and didn’t even know it.”  I said.

         Sam and I glanced at one another realizing the creepy thought.

         “I could go back to Chicago and see what I can find there.”  My father said.

         “What do you expect to find?”  Sam asked.

         “I don’t know, but somehow your mother is connected to this Marty.  Who ever called me knows something.  There’s got to be something there that can shed some light on this.”


Coming up next:  Chapter Nine - Sending a Mother's Love