House of Steel (35 page)

“When I was young, sure.” Ann leaned in,
placing her elbows on the counter.

“What do you mean?”

“There were other men that I thought were
interesting
, but nothing ever compared to your father. He is
my rock. He is the only one to ever bring pure joy to my life. He
gave me you along with Mark and Ben. What man do you know would
stop into a hardware store, see two boys that needed help and bring
them in? That’s what I love about him. One of many things,” she
said, glancing back into the living room as a burst of laughter
exploded from the other room. “I would have missed that sound.”

“I’m glad you don’t have to miss it,”
Delaney responded.

“Me, too. Dr. Jackson saved me. I feel so
lucky. So… blessed. Like divine intervention,” she said, focusing
on the last words.

“Does this mean you’ll be frequenting church
with Dad?” Delaney joked as she dried her hands and slid onto the
stool next to Ann.

“Probably not,” she laughed. “But someone
was looking out for me for once.”
Yeah, a murderer with gray
eyes. His name is Holston Parker. Do you know him by
chance?

“Well, I’m happy you got connected with Dr.
Jackson, however that happened,” Delaney said while grabbing the
Journal Sentinel
on the counter. Despite receiving the daily
newspaper for as long as Delaney could remember, she had never once
seen her mother read the paper. Delaney began to flip through it,
idly turning the thin pages as her eyes scanned the pictures and
headlines.

“You know I never really read the paper,”
Ann confessed with a small laugh, “Even when I worked there. Your
Uncle Walt would be so disappointed.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Look, someone donated $30,000 to the youth
art program you used to be in. An anonymous donor, how generous,”
Ann said, pointing to a picture of smiling children holding their
creations. Delaney smiled knowingly; her mother hadn’t needed the
money Delaney had collected after all, so she’d found somewhere
else that did. Her only condition had been that the program screen
and hire more qualified instructors.

Delaney turned the page, feeling her heart
stop as she paused on the third page of the business section. His
defined face and steel eyes stared back at her, as if he was
mocking her.
He’s still watching. He will always be here.
He
stood next to President Givens in front of Parker Tower which was
set to open in the upcoming weeks at Leighton. She cringed before
she turned the page over, not wanting to look at his face. She
couldn’t read about how Holston Parker, philanthropist, was saving
the community, one building at a time.

“Wait, go back,” Ann said as she grabbed the
corner of the newspaper to flip the page back to the black and
white picture of the two men. Delaney glanced at her mother,
staring at the picture of Holston Parker and President Givens. Her
eyes squinted, scrutinizing the picture before they became
watery.

“What is it?” Delaney breathed, watching her
face.

“Nothing,” she sighed, sliding back into her
chair.

“What?” Delaney pressed, hesitant to know
why her mother had paused at the picture to look directly at
Holston Parker.

“The picture just looks like someone I knew
a long time ago,” she said, waving her hand in the air, dismissing
the notion.

“Which one?”

“The shorter one. The man with the
distinguished face and serious eyes. He looks like someone I used
to know,” she said, sitting back up to reread the caption. “But it
says his name is Holston Parker. I don’t know Holston Parker of
Parker Enterprises. That’s the company Mark works for. Is that
Mark’s boss?”

“Yeah,” Delaney replied, feeling her heart
thrust against her ribs.

“The similarities are just astonishing.
That’s how I would envision him to look.” Her words softened as her
eyebrows scrunched down, “But it’s been almost thirty years. Is
that the building Mark has been working on?” She pointed to the
building in the background. “I haven’t exactly been involved in
your lives lately.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. It’s a striking
building.”
Funded and built by a manipulative, threatening
killer that you seem to know. “
Who did you think it was? What
was his name?” She waited while she studied her mother’s body
shifting in the seat. Ann’s cheeks flushed as she waved her hand to
dismiss the thoughts.
You remember.
This is my chance.
Who is Holston Parker?
Delaney leaned toward her, closing the
gap between them.

“Mom?”

“The man that I was thinking of. The man
that looks like Holston Parker. His name was George Boyd. I met him
at this little diner I used to work at. It was a funny name for a
restaurant if you ask me. It was called the House of Steel.”

39

The Same Day ~ March 15

Evie stepped onto the street, feeling the
unevenness of the damp cobblestones beneath her boots. The slow
trickle of the snow melting filtered through the cracks as she
moved toward the line of boats in front of her, leaving the
snow-capped mountains behind her. The chimneys of the small houses
puffed white smoke into the air, adding to the already foggy mist
that plagued the mountainous region. Their small, lit windows
illuminated the otherwise dark, night sky providing a soft glow as
she examined where the waves crashed up onto the shores, rocking
the queue of boats that sat perched in the bay. Most of them were
back from their daily runs. Only a few men remained in their boats,
finishing the last clean-up and preparation for the next day.

She had waited all day, sitting in the
coffee shop just a few blocks down, watching the tour boats filter
in and out of the bay carrying sightseers on scenic fishing
excursions. She had learned, through the broken English of a
waitress and an American man that visitors flocked to Norway’s
Lofoten to fish during the annual cod spawning. The chain of
islands’ mild temperature and gorgeous scenery added to the allure.
But Evie hadn’t come there to vacation. She was there to find
someone she hadn’t seen for a decade - a fisherman on the Norwegian
Sea.

He had made a good decision to move to
Norway. The serene and natural atmosphere suited him. He could
blend in without anyone finding him. She contemplated the notion
for a moment, wondering what it would feel like to disappear to a
foreign country. To immerse herself in the land and culture. Europe
was the birth land of beautiful churches and rich history.

She stopped to sit on a bench next to a path
that overlooked the sea as she thought of the prospect of running
and never looking back. Holston Parker would never find her here.
It was a corner of the world where he couldn’t touch her. She
adjusted her wig, letting the blonde hair fall down her back. It
was long, just like her sister’s. It was months later, and she
still couldn’t reconcile the fact that Delaney Jones was her
sister.

She breathed in, feeling the brisk air of
the night. She smelled the fragrances of the sea mixed in with the
scent of new grass. New growth and life surrounded her. Spring was
on its way in Norway, just like it was in Wisconsin. She sighed
before setting her eyes back on the boat rocking in the waves. She
couldn’t make out the letters anymore, but she had found it earlier
that morning, noting its place among the line of boats. The name
“Betty” had been splashed in red across the white hull. She watched
as the outline of a man finished moving on the boat and climbed
down. He was heading straight to her, moving slowly along the
path.

Her body relaxed as she felt the familiar
feel of metal knocking against her knee. She knew she wouldn’t need
the knife, but she had bought one anyway before she had even
checked into the hotel. It brought too much comfort to her, too
much control.

His body moved closer, his boots knocking
against the path. The gear she had envisioned him wearing was gone.
He had left the rubber boots and jacket on his boat. Instead, he
wore jeans and a canvas-like jacket that hung open, swaying with
his movement. His orange hat sat high on his head, letting the cool
air breathe onto his dark hair. She couldn’t make out his face in
the dark, but she was sure it was him. “Betty” had been the final
piece that had assured her.

“Ryan.” Her voice cut through the sound of
the water knocking against the boats. The man stopped and turned
toward her.

“Pardon?” His voice was laced with a
Norwegian accent. He hadn’t been speaking English.

“Ryan Gordon.”

He took two large steps toward her as she
shifted her hand near her leg, feeling the metal beneath her
pants.

“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong person,”
his voice answered. He was now standing only a few feet from her.
She studied his face as it tensed from the threat. The same gentle
eyes as Elizabeth’s looked back at her. He still had his thick
eyebrows; it was him, Elizabeth’s brother.

“It’s me. Evie Parker,” she whispered,
watching his shoulders and arms fall back down.

“Evie?”

“Yeah. It’s me, Ryan.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked as she
stood up to stand in front of him, inhaling the aromas of the sea
from his body.

“I’m here to see you.” Her voice was even
and steady.

“How did you find me?” he pressed, looking
close at her hair. “What’s with the hair?” Evie pulled off the
blonde wig, letting the wind air out her cropped hair. “That’s
better,” he said as his eyes settled on her dark brown hair. Evie
smiled as she ran her fingers through the strands.

“So how did you find me?”

“I just did,” she said. “But it took me
three months, so don’t worry,” she finished, trying to reassure
him. It was clear that she was an unwanted visitor. She couldn’t
blame him.

“I didn’t think anyone ever would. Or at
least I hoped,” he replied, looking out into the sea before turning
back to her.

“You made it hard, but I was determined to
find you because I thought you might have some answers,” she
started.

“Evie, I can’t do this,” he interrupted.

“Ryan, I need you. You knew what happened to
Elizabeth, didn’t you?” She stared into his eyes as they softened
and welled.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been on the run for three months. From
my father,” she hesitated on the words, still hating the sound of
it from her lips. “I found out about Elizabeth. That it wasn’t an
accident. That she was murdered.”

“How did you find out?” Ryan asked as he
fell down on the bench, taking the hat from his head.

“I had a little conversation with the man
who covered up her murder,” she said as she slid onto the bench
next to him. “Before I killed him.”

His head shot up as he turned to her. “Evie,
you need to go.”

“Please. Just give me a few minutes,” Evie
pleaded. She had known this would be hard. She swallowed before she
asked a question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. “How did you
find out about Elizabeth?”

“I can’t,” he replied, shifting his feet to
stand up. Evie put her hand on his knee, drawing his eyes to
hers.

“Please, I need to hear this,” she
whispered.

“I’ve never told anyone. It was the reason I
left,” he started.

“I know,” she encouraged.

“I was working in the field that day
Elizabeth was killed. I saw her that morning. She said she was
going to spend the day with you and your boyfriend.” Ryan glared at
Evie before continuing, “I was cutting hay for the Schmidt brothers
when I lost a spring for the chopper. I had gone back late that
afternoon and was looking around the field when I saw your father
and a man with white hair. The guy you killed, did he have white
hair?”

“Yes. Gunnar,” she replied.

“They didn’t know I was there. At first, I
almost called out to them, but then I saw them carrying what looked
like a big burlap sack. Out of the end of the sack, I saw strands
of curly blonde hair. I flattened myself down in the field, unable
to move,” Ryan said as he rubbed his hands back and forth together.
“I should have done something. I should have confronted them, but I
just couldn’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault. She was gone
already,” Evie whispered.

“I know that now. I didn’t know it was
Elizabeth then. I couldn’t allow myself to think that,” he replied.
“But when the officer called that night about an accident. That she
had hit a tree from going too fast -”

“She never drove that fast. It wasn’t like
Elizabeth.”

“I knew it wasn’t right. I knew something
bad had happened, but I didn’t know what it was, and your father
came in to take care of everything when my dad - he was just out of
his mind,” Ryan rushed as his chest welled.

“I know. We all were,” Evie said as she put
her hand on his knee.

“I didn’t know who to turn to. I wanted to
call the police, and I almost did, had it not been for your father.
He knew that I had seen something or felt that something was wrong.
He pulled me aside the next day. He told me that something
unimaginable had happened to Elizabeth and that he had found her,
but that he knew my dad couldn’t live with it. He said he made it
look like an accident to give my dad some peace of mind. That he
had taken care of the man who had murdered Elizabeth. Whoever that
was,” Ryan finished. His shoulders fell forward as if a huge weight
had been lifted from his body.

“Henry,” Evie whispered.

“I didn’t know if I could trust your father,
but I didn’t see any other option. He didn’t give me an
alternative. I had nothing to go on except that I maybe saw
something suspicious that day. I knew your father would ruin me and
my dad if he had to,” he said before adding, “Who was Henry?”

“Henry was the boy I was seeing. He was one
of my father’s employees,” Evie replied.