Page 58 of Filthy Savage
The old man sits silently for a few moments, looking out of his window pensively. “I suppose we could say this all started when Natalie and I were in high school. I was in my senior year, and she was a freshman. We were the only two military brats in town back then, so we quickly figured that out right off the bat.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “I was a bit of a rebel back then, and I may have told her that once I turn eighteen, I’d show up at school in my dad’s army gear from head to toe, minus the weapons, of course. It was just as a prank, you know? I guess you could say that Natalie took it upon herself to make sure I didn’t do anything foolhardy around the other kids. Anyhow, it was about a week before my birthday. I had driven my car to school, but it was a real beater. The alternator acted up all the time. The thing wouldn’t start that afternoon, so I walked, figuring I’d take the shortcut behind the school that ran right through the woods to the back of my house. That was the fastest way to borrow some jumper cables and be back on the road.”
“You found my mother in the woods?” Nancy asks, probably hoping he’d move the story along and get to the point a lot faster than his current speed.
“Yes I did, dear,” he confirms. “Natalie lived three houses down my street, so she took that shortcut every day. We walked into those woods that day, but the world got a little bit darker after we walked out. I mean, how shocked and frightened would you be to see your dads leaving the woods with their commanding officer after agreeing to an off-the-books kill order?”
“None of them saw you?”
He shakes his head, his movements pensive and slow. “No, but Natalie and I were naïve. We confronted our parents later that night.”
“What was their explanation?” Nancy asks.
“We were quickly and firmly warned to forget that we saw or heard anything, and to never utter a word of it to anyone. Heck, my old man actually threatened me that we could be charged with treason. Of course, we kept it to ourselves, and our parents made a point of it too, to protect us. After that, we put it behind us. We moved on. Natalie and I barely kept in touch, except for the fact that our parents remained neighbors right up until they passed on. Years later, I met Kade’s mother. Natalie got married to Alain. We had you kids, then about six years before Natalie and Alain were…before they passed, I came home from work to find a note shoved under my front door, warning me that I was in danger.”
“Who was it from?”
“Natalie. I didn’t know what it was about, but I was curious. I went to see her and Alain that night. She brought out some of her dad’s files, files she kept years after he passed away. Files she shouldn’t have had in the first place. Everything was coded like gibberish. She had a lot of theories but honestly, the only thing we knew for sure was the list of names. And that this was a big secret our parents kept close to their vests to protect their former commanding officer… a man who moved up the ranks faster than anyone ever did, an individual whose family quickly became a powerful voice in politics.”
“Let me see if I’m hearing you right,” I say. “You’re telling me that our grandfathers killed someone to help their army boss, and now he’s big on the political scene? Are you saying the two things are connected?”
“It’s a theory. It’s an explanation that makes sense.”
“Do you have proof?”
He shakes his head and his face goes solemn. “Natalie had those files. I don’t know what happened to them, but even so, there wasn’t anything definitive. There was no smoking gun to speak of.”
“You’re not suggesting that…” I start, but have to take a long breath. The words won’t come off my tongue.
“Were our parents killed because of some coded files that belonged to our grandfather?” Nancy asks abruptly, taking the words right out of my mouth.
“It sounds preposterous, I know. But proof or not, that’s what I’ve come to believe.”
“Did she say anything about Vincent Belmont?”
“No. Nothing at all.” Mr. Jackson’s phone rings somewhere in his pocket. He pulls it out and checks the screen, then turns off the volume. “That’s your mother,” he says to Kade. “I’ll call her back in a minute.” His gaze returns to Nancy and me. “I never knew Vincent back then. I only met him through you, Nancy. Anyway, after we spoke, I moved the wife and Kade out of Nevada altogether. We settled down in Utah, which is why we never had a chance to spend time with you kids. Years later, some old neighbors phoned me about Natalie and Alain’s passing, but not in time for their funerals. I still regret not being there for you.”
He shakes his head, agitated. “My wife and I tried to reach out and help you and your brother, but Child Welfare Services were being real hardasses. They wouldn’t even give us a contact number. I had no idea when Kade announced he was getting hitched to you, Nancy, that you were Nancy as in Natalie and Alain Voltaire’s daughter…not until I met you, dear. And even then, what was I supposed to tell you? That your ma and I saw some things we shouldn’t have, and some files she was holding onto might’ve gotten her killed? And please don’t blame Kade for any of this. This is the first he’s hearing of the full story too.”
Kade’s phone rings. He ignores it, and a second later, Nancy’s phone buzzes.
“It’s Tilly,” Nancy says after pulling the phone from her purse. “Tilly is Keith’s wife, Axe. It must be urgent if she’s calling all of our numbers back to back.” She swipes the call answer button and puts it on speakerphone. “Hi Tilly. Sorry we didn’t answer sooner. I’ve got you on speaker for Kade and Keith. Are the kids all right?”
“Yes, dear. They’re fine. Perfectly safe. It’s just… I think you need to come over right away. Hurry.”
Nancy’s eyes shoot up to Kade, then to Mr. Jackson. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
* * *
I’m not surprisedthat Nancy speeds the entire way to get to Kade’s folks’ house about three miles away from the residential development where Nancy and Kade live. She even beats the two SUVs over there. I follow her past Kade’s bodyguards into the front door of the older ranch-style home.
“Tilly?” She shouts from the front door. “Asher, honey? Annalee?”
“We’re out back,” says the voice I assume to be the kids’ grandmother.
I follow Nancy through French doors that open onto a wooden porch. The backyard is a large, fenced, lawn-covered space, lined with massive old sequoia trees.
“Tilly, this is my brother Alexander,” Nancy says quickly to the older woman sitting on the porch swing on the left of the French doors. “Alexander, Tilly. So, where are the kids? What happened?”
