Page 118 of Vanish From Sight
CHAPTER 34
Thursday, November 24, 6:30 p.m.
Thanksgiving felt like the Last Supper.
Twelve of them were in attendance: Noah and his two kids, Kerri and her two, Ray and Gretchen, Maddie and her significant other, Jake Randall, a man they all had yet to know. Then there was Hugh at the end of the table like some high priest overseeing his flock. To his direct right was Maggie Coleman from the newspaper, a close friend of the family who he’d invited to join them, a kind gesture since she was a widow.
The room was filled with a warm glow from candlelight. The smell of roast turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes wafted through the air. On the surface it all looked idyllic, but the tension in the room was palpable.
Noah couldn’t help but feel the weight of Luke’s absence at the table, never mind the loss of his ex. He had yet to tell anyone how she died, only that it was an open case. The pain was stillraw and would be felt for months. His children who sat sullenly at the table felt the same way. It was hard to be thankful when so much had been lost.
The silence was broken only by the sound of silverware clinking against the plates and the occasional cough. Hugh, a stern but well-meaning man, attempted to keep the conversation flowing, but his efforts were met with stony silence from all barring Maggie.
Noah scooped potato into his mouth and stared at Ray across from him. The last time they had spoken, his older brother had attempted suicide. Then there was the discovery of the debt and the money he’d been spending like water to feed his gambling addiction. Noah had paid off the debt, but the awkwardness of the situation hung heavily in the air. Ray promised to pay him back but Noah wasn’t holding out hope for that. His attempt at taking his life was a topic that not even Hugh had been privy to. It would remain a secret between Ray, Maddie and himself.
His sister gulped wine like it was going out of fashion, her gaze bouncing between them.
Forks scraped against plates and the soft whispers of Kerri’s children could be heard as they exchanged furtive glances with his own two. They now had something in common. Both had tragically lost a parent under circumstances that weren’t natural.
No child should have experienced that.
Noah’s heart ached as he looked around the table and considered how much damage had been done. Everyone had been affected by loss in some way. He only wished it could be different.
“More wine?” Hugh asked, his eyebrows raising as he screeched his chair back and dabbed the corner of his lips with a napkin. The room erupted with a hearty yes, almost at once, as if numbing themselves as fast as they could mightdelude them into thinking that the meal was anything but awkward.
“You know, Dad, I’ll get it,” Noah said. “Sit. Chat.”
Chat? The word sounded foreign.
“No, it’s fine. I have to use the washroom, anyway,” he said. If Noah wasn’t mistaken, even his own father looked a little out of his comfort zone.
“You think I could get some more pop, Dad?” Ethan asked.
“Sure, buddy.”
Noah took his glass and headed out into the kitchen, away from the rabble. He checked the fridge but they were out. Hugh was returning with two bottles of a reserve Pinot Noir, a favorite of his. “You out of pop?”
“No, there’s some more in the garage.” He went to walk by him but stopped short. “Noah. Um. About the funeral for Lena. I’ll take care of all the cost involved.”
“You don’t have to do that. The Grayson’s said it would be handled.”
“No. I insist. I’ll phone and speak to Doug. Lena was a part of this family. It’s the least I can do.” He let out a heavy sigh as if burdened by a weight he couldn’t verbalize. “I’m sorry, Noah,” he said before walking back into the dining room. Something about the way he said it struck Noah as odd. Sorry generally wasn’t in Hugh Sutherland’s vocabulary. He certainly hadn’t heard it in the years he’d been alive.
Perplexed, he pushed it from his mind and strolled into the garage. Inside it was immaculately clean and tidy, just the way his father liked it. The walls were lined with tools, and there was a workbench to the right side of the room.
As he walked towards the fridge, Noah glanced at the gleaming red truck parked on the right side and a sleek black BMW that sat next to it. The floor was spotless, and the air was filled with the faint smell of motor oil and gasoline.
Just as he was taking out the pop, he heard the sound of the door opening behind him. He turned to find Kerri standing in the doorway.
She looked worried, and he could tell that she had something important to say. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low. She cast a glance over her shoulder and then approached him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“After our last conversation, I did a bit more digging,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I found out whose name is on the LLC. It’s owned by a man named Luther Ashford. You familiar with him?”
“Huh. Well. I think I have a good idea,” he replied, thinking of the Ashford Royale, the casino that was managed by Gabriel Ironwood.
“A powerful family, Noah. More money than they know what to do with.”
“Which would explain why he was willing to offer the waterfront property rent free.”
