Reunion (A Psychological Suspense with Murder, Mystery and the Paranormal) (35 page)

He had opened the driver’s-side door and prepared to jump in when he heard someone call his name.

He turned back toward the school.

“Noah, over here!”

He zeroed in on the voice and saw Lana pushing through the crowd, holding Zoe by the hand. Naturally, he smiled and waved. The two women arrived, breathless, in the parking lot.

“Hey, where’re you going with Tanner’s wheels?” asked Lana.

Noah showed the key to her, smiled and said, “A gift from Heaven, and I don’t know where I’m going. Why? Do you need a ride to the hotel?

Lana looked at Zoe and said, “Well, we don’t have to leave for another week. We’ll stay for Maria’s funeral and then—”

Lana’s eyes were full of emotion. Taken aback, Noah looked anew at the beautiful woman in front of him. Lana stared at him with the same doe eyes he had fallen in love with twenty years before. He looked from Lana to Zoe, whose eyes also seemed filled with an unsettled joy or curiosity, he couldn’t tell which. Something had changed in the young woman, he thought, something transforming. Suddenly, Zoe threw her arms around him and held on to him tightly. He wrapped his big arms around her and held her close, thinking she needed comfort after the trauma of worrying about her mom. Noah looked at Lana over Zoe’s shoulder, at first with confusion and then with a dawning sense he realized that something had changed.

• • •

Nothing was said as Zoe spent her first moments in her father’s arms. Lana pressed her hands to her face to control her fragile emotions and watched as Noah visibly began to make sense of Zoe’s action. When Zoe let go and drew back for a moment, Noah gazed at her lovely young face, studied her features, and then looked away into the clearing sky.

“Is she…?” he said to Lana. “Are you…?” he said to Zoe. And then his eyes filled with joyful tears when both simultaneously cried out, “Yes!”

With tears running down his face, he scooped them both into his arms and all three of them cried together. They all hugged and spoke at once, trying to explain everything that had happened.

There were consequences for the secret and bitterness Lana had held inside her for so long, but the payoff for revealing the truth now made her a wealthy soul and she knew it. She watched as her daughter’s lifelong yearning to know her father was fulfilled right before her eyes. She reached out and again embraced Noah, releasing the
pull
from its place of power in her life, freeing her from its shackles.

That embrace was the first of many happy moments for the Berkley family. They took a day trip in the Jeep around the glorious sights of Idaho near Crescent Falls, making new memories for the future. They made time to ask and answer every question they had not been able to discuss in twenty years. Lana invited Noah to join them on the book tour if he promised to show her England. He agreed, with one condition: she had to marry him back home, in Winchester Cathedral and Zoe had to be the maid of honor. With great joy, mother and daughter accepted!

Before they left Crescent Falls, Lana and Noah attended the memorial service for Maria with Kate and Nick. Their dear friend had been the one to start the quest for wholeness and organize the reunion that led to their release from the crippling past. But she had died. The memorial for Maria was a fitting tribute to a courageous and empathetic woman, the last valedictorian of Crescent Falls High. Maria’s mother, though heartbroken, stood proudly surrounded by her friends in the community where she had raised her daughter. Everyone cheered when they heard the mayor announce that the school was to be bulldozed and cleared for a community park, to be named in honor of Maria Vasquez. In it, he said, would be a special basketball and skateboard area, dedicated to the memory of all the victims, including Christopher Haden.

• • •

Kate and Nick’s marriage changed for the better. Nick joined AA, stopped drinking forever and returned to work, sober, for the first time in several years. He and Kate moved to the city to make a new start, and were astonished and delighted to discover that Kate was pregnant—with twins! After years of trying, Kate had given up, thinking that, with Nick’s emotional condition, it was probably best not to have a family anyway. But now, she was elated at the thought of being a mother. Later, Kate also went on to Idaho State and earned a degree in art history.

• • •

Bryan remained in the hospital during Maria’s funeral, but his classmates visited him to say goodbye. They heard later that he retired from the force on disability, but became a volunteer at Mount Carmel State Institution, playing board games and walking on the grounds with the patients.

• • •

After all that had occurred, the survivors lived on. They learned to embrace life like never before, regarding each moment as more precious than the one before. In the end, the remnant of the final class at Crescent Falls High found exactly what they were looking for. And David Ray’s actions had become merely a ricochet in time. The disturbing music that he devised was replaced by a new song—a reframed masterpiece, created by a maestro unmoved by the trigger finger of one of the lost ones. For His time signature is eternity and His wisdom far exceeds human understanding.

Without ceasing, the Master’s song continues in a world both seen and unseen. His hand keeps the time, controls the tempo and moderates the improvisation of the players. As difficult as it is to accept, we all have less control and less time than we think we do.

To the survivors at the reunion, twenty years seemed like a long time, but to the Great Composer, it was only a quarter note in the first frame, and He will chose when the song is over.

THE END

Jeff Bennington is the author of
Killing the Giants
, a political thriller, and the short story,
The Rumblin’
. He lives in Central Indiana with his wife, four children and two stray cats. He also teaches creative writing for a homeschool co-op.

Look for Jeff’s upcoming supernatural thriller,
Act of Vengeance
, in late 2011. All of his works are available at most online stores, including Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and Smashwords.

You can follow Jeff on Twitter @TweetTheBook, Facebook, and his blog,
The Writing Bomb
.

• • •

If you enjoyed
REUNION
, Jeff would love to hear from you. Email him via his web page, jeffbennington.com and be sure to write a review on Amazon, Goodreads or any online retailer. Thanks for reading.

Please enjoy the following sample from Jeff's supernatural thriller,
Twisted Vengeance
, a novel that will keep you guessing until the twisted conclusion.

Twisted Vengeance

~ A Supernatural Thriller by ~

Jeff Bennington

Dedicated to those who have been physically, sexually or emotionally abused. I hope you discover what it means to be truly loved, because you are not "less."

~ Jeff Bennington

D
etective Rick Burns raced into the upscale Indianapolis neighborhood, slammed on the brakes and stepped out of his rusty red Pontiac. He peered into the night and watched the crowd gather, took a deep breath and prayed to God that this murder would not be like the others. The heaviness, the blood and the darkness had finally pricked its sharp edge into his soul.

Red and blue lights enveloped his body and danced across the frightened neighbors who had gathered together, shaking and shivering. The car door let out a lingering squeak as he slammed it shut, and then he hurried toward the crime scene.

The detective rushed past an ambulance and heard a woman whimpering to his right. He turned toward the sound, continued forward and studied her face with twisted brow. She stood near a paramedic and a police officer, with a wool blanket over her shoulders that warmed her from the night breeze. Streams of mascara ran down her cheeks like rivers of death, but her shoulders didn’t shake, and she didn’t sob or wail in disbelief.

Rick examined her slow, careful movements as she gingerly wiped her tears. Her eyes lacked the hollow, confused grief that he’d seen far too often. Lady of the house or mistress, perhaps—whatever the case, he knew something about her didn’t ring true.

He pulled his pen and notepad from his jacket pocket and scribbled a few words regarding his first suspect.

Female Caucasian.

Mid-fifties.

Pin-striped suit.

Stilettos.

Short red hair.

Approximately five foot eight.

No blood visible.

September 13, 11:07 p.m.

The detective weaved through the crowd of wealthy onlookers who were wrapped in throw blankets and pajamas. Fearful murmurs and conjectures splashed his ears as he approached the house. The frightened neighbors looked at him curiously, no doubt wondering who the scruffy-looking man could be.

Rick realized fleetingly that, with his tousled hair, wrinkled T-shirt, faded jeans and running shoes, he probably looked more like a down-on-his-luck reporter than a ten-year veteran of the Indianapolis Police Department.

He could’ve changed his clothes and combed his hair, but there was no time for primping. Rick didn’t bother fussing over his appearance. In his line of work, he found that looks, more often than not, were deceiving. His sport coat was a mere covering, nothing more than a show of respect for his position. He preferred jeans and T-shirts, one of many in a long list of professional quirks.

Rick lifted the crime-scene tape and walked toward the house, a Meridian Street classic with stacked Bedford stone, copper gables and staggered limestone corners that climbed two levels toward the slate roof.

He noticed that a second-story window was open and the room illuminated. Shadows fell against the walls as dark figures walked past the light.

“Forensics? Already?” Rick looked at his watch. “Damn.”