Chapter 23
They’d driven over to Cedar Key for a couple of days, just to get away and enjoy each other’s company. But now it was time to get back to work and, once and for all, jump into the book. Their relationship was getting serious. Jonathan and Amy were now spending most nights together, and each had made, some subtle, some not so subtle, insinuations about a long-term commitment. At first it was kidding around but as the days and weeks passed it took on a tone of sincerity. They actually found themselves enjoying their discussions about their future together. They both loved the research and writing, the water, reading, and had even talked about children, both wanting them. But for now, they decided to get this book out of the way first; then see where life took them.
Jonathan had never responded to the call from the reporter in Iowa. He figured if the guy really had something, he’d call back…he did. He’d left a couple of messages while they were down in Florida and their first day back he called again. Jonathan sensed it was the reporter and decided he might as well get rid of this guy, so he answered in a rather abrupt tone, “Yes!”
“Mr. Smyth, my name is…”
“Pardon me, but I’ve answered all the questions I’m going to about my brother, so I would appreciate it if you’d leave me alone…okay?”
“Well, that’s fine, but I was calling to give you some information, rather than try and get some. But if you’d prefer to be belligerent about this, I’ll most definitely leave you alone.”
Jonathan, thinking maybe he’d been a little hasty said, “Hold on, I’m sorry, but things have been a little nuts since this story broke. I’m sure you understand.”
There was a disquieting pause, then, “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, I thought you might want this bit of information I dug up. I know you’re writing a book on Jack Zane and you just might find this interesting.”
“I’m sorry I cut you off, what was your name?”
“Bill Tibbets, I’m with the Des Moines Register.”
“Have I ever talked to you before Bill?”
“No, I was in Independence when you were there, but I never spoke to you. I did speak to your dad and several townspeople, but never approached you.”
“Okay, what do you have that might be of interest for my book?”
Jonathan figured if he kept him on the Zane book, he wouldn’t get pulled into talking about his brother.
Tibbets told him that his brother-in-law lived in Storm Lake and was close friends with Barbara and Clyde Wilkes. Clyde had told his brother-in- law that the coffin they dug up and moved to North Dakota was…empty. Barbara figured what the townspeople didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them. Even though he was a killer, she couldn’t stand to think of him buried under a construction site. Jack Zane was still right there in Storm Lake.
Of course Tibbets wanted some kind of remuneration for this information if it in any way appeared in the forthcoming book.
Jonathan was stunned. He couldn’t help but think, will this guy ever go away?
It was very disturbing news but, could have an affect on the book. The first thing he needed to do was verify if it was true, but how? He wouldn’t feel comfortable just calling Barbara Wilkes up and asking her. What if Clyde had told his friend in confidence, now Barbara finds out he spilled the beans? No, there had to be a better way…he just didn’t know what it was right now.
He decided to talk to Amy about it and get her thoughts. She’d gone home to get some things and would be back by dinner. Jonathan sat down at his desk staring mindlessly at all the information on Zane. It seemed every time he felt an end to this…another tentacle from Zane’s past appeared.
Here Jonathan had been feeling very comfortable knowing the guy was finally buried under concrete, underneath buildings…and now he finds out the monster is right where he’d been all along. As he sat, mind wandering, he began having doubts about even doing the book. After all, this book would do nothing but rekindle interest. He leaned back in his chair looking up at the ceiling and thought, My God, I may, through this book, do more to enhance this guy's legend than anyone before, is that what I really want to do?
He heard the key turn in the lock. It was Amy. Maybe she could shed some light on this.
“Hello, Jonathan?”
“In here,” he said, still sitting in his office.
She put her stuff down and walked into the office. She could see he was lost in thought.
“What’s wrong, what are you thinking about?”
He sat up, still somewhat distant, but fairly sure he heard the question. “Why, why do you ask?”
“Because you look like you’re in some far off place. What’s the matter?”
“You know that reporter that kept leaving me messages and called when we got back from Florida, well I finally talked to him…and, it was unsettling to say the least.”
Amy sat down in the chair in front of the desk, “Unsettling how?”
“Zane is still in Iowa.”
She stood up, put her hands on her hips and looked at him like he was crazy, “What do you mean he’s still in Iowa. Barbara had the body moved up to North Dakota.”
“Well that’s what she wants everybody to think. They moved an empty coffin.”
She sat back down. She could see he was dead serious. “How do you know all this, who told you?”
“The reporter’s brother-in-law is a close friend of Barbara and Clyde Wilkes and Clyde told him that’s what happened.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Yeah, I do. I think he checked it out and I’m sure he wouldn’t have told me if he wasn’t sure it was true because he knows I’d verify it.”
“Uh huh and, how exactly are you going to do that?”
He leaned back in his chair again and put on a wry smile, “Funny you should ask, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”
There was no response; she sat waiting for something more, something meaningful.
“I’m sorry,” he said wiping the grin off his face, “I’m really in a quandary here. Not only about this Zane coffin thing, but, I’ll tell you Amy I’ve been wondering if I should even write the damn book.
“Here Zane keeps reappearing, won’t seem to go away and, this book is going to do nothing but boost his image, albeit an evil one.”
She reached across the desk and grabbed him by the hand, “Let’s go talk about this in the living room.”
They sat down on the couch, Amy looking him dead in the eye, “You really are reconsidering aren’t you?”
“Yes…he’s like black paint, running into all the vibrant colors of everyone’s life, changing them, turning them dark. I don’t know if I want to be part of that. And you and I both know that’s precisely what will happen if I write this. Even though he’s dead and buried, his evil will seep out and, who knows who it might affect next. I truly am concerned about this Amy, I feel like I’m at a critical crossroads.”
She didn’t quite know what to say, she’d seen him in various emotional states during the past few months; shock, disbelief, sorrow, but never had she seen him questioning the entire project.
“Well, you’re right about one thing, this is a critical decision and to be honest I’m not sure exactly how I feel about it. I understand what you’re saying, but we, especially you, have put in so much time and effort, not to speak of money…I don’t know. Believe me, I see your point. I know this has had a much deeper effect on you, because your family was directly involved, but on the other hand, I think the passion you felt, came from that. It’s that very thing that made you want to do this in the first place and I think it’s probably what ultimately will make you write the book.
“I know you have legitimate concerns about what might come of this, but don’t forget you’re telling this story not only from the victim's point of view, but as a victim yourself. That’s powerful stuff Jonathan and I have to believe the other victims you interviewed, who consented to
tell their stories, didn’t want that to be in vain. You know better than I how painful it was for some of them and now if you don’t write the book…well, it’s as if you put them through it for nothing.
“I’m sorry, but that’s the way I feel. I think you’d be cheating them and yourself. But you have to do what you’re comfortable doing and what ever you choose, I’m behind you.”
He looked at her warmly, realizing how much she meant to him, her honesty and intelligence, her…her.
“Well, I guess you’re right.”
“No, you can’t guess I’m right…you have to know I’m right, or it’s not your decision."
“Jonathan, what does your heart tell you?”
Well, here it was. This wasn’t about the book; he knew she was right, if he didn’t write it now, all that went before would be a prevarication. This was now about him and about Amy. He also knew that what he felt in his heart was…love. He’d never told her so, well not precisely, but he knew this was the right time. He grabbed her by both hands and looked into her eyes; he could see she didn’t know what was coming, “No, you’re absolutely right about the book - that would be dishonest. But what I feel in my heart, is love…for you, Amy.”
He could feel her hands clasp tightly to his, her eyes welling up and, for the first time that evening she was speechless.
She was, of course, right and he would move forward with the book, but there was still that nagging issue about Zane’s coffin. He still wasn’t sure what to do about it, but he would definitely have to find out where the body was buried.