Page 4 of Burning Daylight
I hadn’t believed her tales. Not really, anyway. Until she told me one of them was a Calloway, and the other a Montgomery.
Thatpart I believed.
Loyalty means everything in this family, so it makes sense the generations before felt the same.
She’s never said it specifically, but I imagine she’s talking about the actual founders of the town: Theodore Montgomery andmygreat-great-grandfather Alabaster Calloway.
A construction juggernaut and a real-estate tycoon.
They had a deal. They’d build Rosebrook Falls together, sign the WayMont Compact Agreement to make sure everything wassplit fifty-fifty, and then they’d keep the power and influence in the family by marrying off their kids to each other.
So, when Theodore’s son Kenneth went and found himself aVoltairegirl to fall in love with instead? Alabaster took it personal.
The Voltaire girl wound up dead, and accusations were tossed out like candy on Halloween.
I don’t know if there’s any truth to it, but Idoknow that Marcus’s wife Eleanor was a Voltaire before she wound up dead, too.
My brother Alex loved to tell Beverly’s tales anytime we’d go camping. He’d jump up on his soapbox, creating visions of death and destruction where civil hands were stained with civil blood and fierce love went to die.
I loved watching him in his element, acting out scenes and capturing his audience. Sometimes I’d even fantasize about writing novels with him starring in their adaptations.
To this day, Alex swears they’re all true stories, but considering they were told with a flashlight under his chin and his voice wavering like the spirit of our great-great-grandfather was about to jump out and snatch us, I don’t really trust his claims.
My eldest brother Paxton says Beverly was creating tragic fairy tales to explain why our parents are constantly at each other’s throats.
It makes sense, I guess.
To be honest, it’s been years since I’ve given much thought to the Rosebrook Falls wives’ tale at all.
Today, though, it’s stuck in my brain.
Maybe because Paxton just announced his engagement to Tiffany Heartinger, the oil heiress from Pennsylvania, and while everyone else is gazing at them with heart eyes, I can tell Paxton doesn’t give a damn one way or another.
For him, it’s just another business deal. Strengthening the family ties and all that.
But seeing him so resigned to his fate has me thinking maybe Beverly is right, after all.
Maybe the towniscursed.
Either way, I’m thankful to get away from the celebration, even if it is because Mother sent me on a wild goose chase.
Freaking Lance.
I’m going to punch him in the throat when I find him.
It’s just like his dumb ass to disappear, and somehow, whenever he goes missing, it’s always me who has to track him down.
I’ve checked all the usual spots, everywhere from Verona University’s small college campus to Fortune’s Fool, the local theater in the town square.
But my troublemaker of a brother is nowhere to be found.
So now I’m at my last resort, hiking up to the tallest spot in Rosebrook Falls: Upside Down Rock, a secluded area hidden off the overgrown trails in Verona County Park.
My phone rings as I’m trekking the steep hill, but I already know it’s either Paxton or Mother, so I don’t answer.
As I walk the weed-filled and dusty path, nostalgia hits me in the center of my gut.
For my thirteenth birthday, Lance taught me how to sneak out and come here. Said it was “a rite of passage for a teenaged Calloway.”
