Adam was present at the auditions but clearly did not recognize Miles. He sat in the third row, made notes which he handed to Tobias, and listened to all the candidates. But he never let on that anything was different about Miles. He had been respectful and friendly to all the candidates but that was it. And for Miles, it was a break-through.
He had expected to burst out in anger if Adam did not recognize him. He had expected his hands to ball up into fists. He had even rehearsed all the grievances that he wanted Adam to know about. To rub it in, publicly. But when Adam shook his hand and there were absolutely no signs of recognition, Miles had felt nothing but pity.
He remembered every detail about Tammy, their home, their drunk father, and how they arrived at the orphanage. He remembered everything about their dorm there, their friends, the games, and their guidance counsellors. He remembered the day he ran away. It was etched into his memory. First as a source of anger but ever since he found his family with the Mitchells, it had become a source of compassion.
He felt sorry for the restless father who could not see beauty if it slapped him in the face. He felt sympathy for Tammy and yes, pity. Pity that her addiction ruled her life and that she was not in control. And Adam? Strangely, he had started to feel less angry. He too had his own place within a group now. He too had a home and a steady life pattern now. Life with the Mitchells was not exciting as they were older and needed medical attention. However, they loved to travel and Miles was able to see parts of the world he had only read about in books.
The Mitchells had opened their arms and their home to him and their home was filled with sanctuary and solace. He was safe within their walls. No more addiction, no abuse, no fighting for a meal. No more noisy dorms, sharing bathrooms, and overworked counsellors. He had the Mitchells undivided attention and they respected the silence he needed to steady himself. He felt his anger ebb away.
With every week and with every month that Miles lived with the Mitchells, he changed. For the first time he felt confident enough to say what he really felt. He felt safe with them to say what he really thought about anything and what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Interior decorating had been a secret interest exploited only on the pages of his private journals. When he finally showed James and Emily his drawings, they encouraged him to study architecture.
Part 8:
“First the jerk gets taken in, then the jerk gets adopted, then the jerk gets our name, and now the jerk is getting our money?”
Karsten looked at his older brother James Mitchell, Jr. “Jim, one more time. Mom and pop legally made that jerk of a teenager a Mitchell and now he will inherit our money?”
Jim watched his younger brother pace frantically around the room. He never thought that Karsten was the brightest kid on the block. Karsten was always impulsive and easily agitated. He might need to explain the plan again after Karsten calmed down.
Karsten’s blood was boiling. He knew Jim was watching and knew exactly what he thought. And what he thought about him. He always knew what Jim thought. About everything. Ever since they were boys he had been able to read his brother’s mind, anticipate his next move, and frame him for everything. But he had to admit that from the two of them, Jim was the brain. So he would find a solution for this one. Jim always found solutions.
Ten days ago, Jim had paid their parents an unexpected visit. He was driving to a conference and was getting tired. He still had a few hours to go. Instead of paying for a hotel, he decided to bunk for free at his parents’ home. When he turned into their street he saw an unfamiliar car in the driveway. He didn’t recognize the license plate. When he stepped on the front porch, he heard several voices inside.
The conversation was a pretty serious one. He was not able to hear word for word what was said but did pick up that something needed to be signed. He heard the shuffling of papers and voices that he did not recognize. He reached for the door knob, grabbed it, and bit his tongue not to curse.
His instincts were to curse and kick the door wide open just like he always had done when he still lived at home. He hated that his mother sprayed Lysol on door knobs, light switches, and a variety of cabinet handles. He always felt the sticky chemical layers even hours after his mother had used the spray. She of course told him that she had wiped it dry. However, now was not the time to get caught. He bit his tongue, turned the knob, and stepped quietly inside.
In the foyer, he could see the living room reflected in the mirror next to the wardrobe bench. That ghastly old mirror. A tacky gold-colored frame that made him think of the King-Nerd, Louis XIV. He immediately became angry with himself for remembering something he had learned at school and was about to facepalm himself. Instead, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and calmed himself enough to study the reflections in the mirror.
He saw the living room drapes that he hated. Royal blue thick velvet over cream-colored sheers. It reminded him of a cheap conference center. His parents were sitting on the couch. Same old couch. Yellow-beige with paisley patterns. How ugly can a couch get?!
A teenager sat on the love seat. That was Miles, the poor jerk his parents were saving from eternal life in the system. He looked pathetic sitting all straight up holding a tea-cup. A tea-cup! If this had been a school playground someone would have received a treatment to man-up!
Two unknown men were walking to and from the dining room table to his parents handing them documents to sign. They were well-dressed, polite, pointing out to his parents where to place their initials and where to sign.
The Mitchells were busy making arrangements for Miles to be legally adopted, to get their name, and when they passed, inherit their money. Miles only knew about the adoption. As soon as Jim understood there was more to it he had stormed into the room like a bull responding to a red flag.
Karsten remembered how upset Jim had been when he showed up on his doorstep afterwards. He stood there screaming, holding a speeding ticket, and fuming that the money was gone unless they got rid of that jerk.
It took a lot of beers, ice packs, and Tylenol for Jim to calm down enough to speak in full sentences. That’s when Karsten learned that their parents were actually going through with the adoption of the orphan Miles H. Guard. And, that if they passed away Miles would be their sole heir. Some standard size college funds for grandchildren and donations to charities but aside from that, the orphan-bastard would be loaded. His future was safe and secured.
While Jim went into the kitchen to get another cold pack, Karsten dug out his bank statements and looked at the dismal figures. It wasn’t like he had nothing at all but he certainly wasn’t rich. Not by a long shot. And neither was Jim. Both had good salaries and steady careers but there were no weekend houses on Martha’s Vineyard for either one of them.
“The only way to turn this around is to get rid of the jerk!” Jim had calmed down enough now to think and actually formulate a plan. The conference and the speeding ticket all forgotten, he centered on regaining what was rightfully his. He was the oldest son and therefore first in line to inherit the bulk of the money. With some of course, for Karsten.
Karsten studied his older brother. Jim had lost some hair and what was left was thinning. His lifestyle had left its marks on his body. He was pudgy with more than ample love handles stretching his Lycra shirt to the max. The smell of alcohol seemed to come out of his pores and his skin had this ever-present shine. In contrast, Karsten was always well-dressed, clean-shaven, slim, and well-mannered. He was vain enough to spend money on his outward appearance and made sure that people knew that he came from money. Money that would one day be his.
Both Jim and Karsten were so sure of their inheritance that they had done the absolute minimum to secure their retirement. They had bank accounts but neither had any real savings. They had nice houses but both had double mortgages and no free equity. They had some valuable objects but neither could afford the lifestyle they both dreamed about. Jet-setting in Monte Carlo, sailing on the Mediterranean,
winters in Vancouver, pub hopping in London, and driving in the latest Maserati.
If they would inherit, they’d be able to afford everything they could think off. Turned out, mom and pop were loaded from the start. Timber on her side of the family, oil on his. Despite that, they never wore designer clothes, lived in an ordinary suburb, and had made their kids get jobs to help pay for their drivers’ education. Before the boys knew how much they were worth neither Jim not Karsten had thought twice about their childhood. But once Jim had cracked their father’s safe and found the latest bank statements …. well, there were things worth fighting for and their birth right was certainly worth the battle. But they would have to be patient if they wanted to succeed.
Both brothers, disgusted with their parents, moved away to keep as much of the lower 48 between them. They speculated that the Mitchells would pine away and come crawling to beg them to return home. In the beginning, that was indeed the case. James and Emily had made desperate attempts to find their children and to re-establish contact. Until the private investigator found them. Until the PI described how they lived their lives, told them about the rumors, and how the kids behaved towards others. Until the PI told them everyone around their boys knew that they had money coming.
Neither James not Emily had ever thought that they would be able to trust a non-blood related young person with their lives. Until they met Miles. He was older than the other orphans, withdrawn, and quiet. He clearly had seen hardship and valued the simpler things in life.
When the judge asked him whether he had anything to add before he would officially declare him to be known as Miles H. Guard-Mitchell, he had turned to Emily and James. And he confessed.
He never thought he’d get adopted as all the people who were kid-shopping at the orphanage looked into the nursery and the toddler rooms first. Hardly anyone was interested in preteens let alone teenagers. He told them that he fully expected they too would not return to visit him ever again after they first met.
With a soft voice, he told the judge it would be his honor to finally have parents, a real mom and a real dad. He straightened his back, looked at the judge, and said: “I am ready to become their son.”
Part 9:
“You killed one of them, didn’t you?” Ally was helping Hanson to put Luc’s old files in storage. Hanson put a box on the steel shelves, held her hand on the lid a little longer than necessary, before facing the evidence room clerk she really liked. “Yes, it was either him or Luc.”
During the investigation, Luc had made the tactical error to beef up security around Adam after Miles was arrested instead of simultaneously following up on Miles’ background as Paul had suggested. As a results, they lost Tripp, the security guard at Vance Stadium while everyone was in town covering Adam and the band during a live cast.
Vance Stadium was not left unprotected but there were definitely possibilities for those who waited long enough. Tripp, one of the older guards, was no match for two younger men determined to get in and do harm. Jim and Karsten had observed him long enough to know that Tripp had a cold and that he closed his eyes when he sneezed. And when he sneezed again he was quickly overpowered. Karsten later said that he would have been ok with the old dude in duct tape but it was Jim who had dealt the fatal blow again. “Jim had this crazy look in his eyes. I didn’t want to confront that” Karsten later confessed.
As soon as Miles was arrested, they all let their guard down. Tobias had mentioned that he had found signs of sabotage on the stage and that attempts had been made to break in the equipment booths. Luc told him everything would calm down now that they had the step-brother in custody.
Ally handed Hanson a tag for the box. “You too were downtown at the live cast, weren’t you?” Hanson shook her head and took the tag checking the information she already knew was correct.
Maybe it will feel good to tell her, get some stress off my chest. She’s always been discreet and reliable.
Hanson attached the tag and turned to Ally. “While the Chief personally oversaw the increased security around the band and Adam, not all detectives went downtown. Paul stayed behind and talked to Miles. She told Miles about all the dead roadies. He told her that he knew and that he had kept track of them as he recognized their names from the six stops he did in Europe. He even drew a map on a napkin and outlined for Paul which roadie worked which stop on the tour.
While he made that crude doodle of Europe Paul had studied him. She was not convinced he was a murderer. He had hidden information, yes. But she didn’t believe he had it in him to kill. Miles just didn’t strike her as someone capable to kill seven times.
So when he told Paul that he was here in Vance to warn Adam that someone was after him, Paul believed him. She made him go over every detail he remembered about his past, about life with Tammy, life with Adam, the orphanage, the Mitchells, etc. He told her about experiencing abandonment and how he credited the Mitchells for his sanity. That’s when Paul found out that Miles had no contact with the Mitchells’ own children. That’s when it occurred to her that maybe something completely different was going on here.”
***
Athena opened her office door, checked the hallway, and then carefully closed and locked her door. Her head felt heavy and there was a tightness around her temples she couldn’t get rid of. She crossed over to the other side of her office and sat on the leather couch. That thing was ugly but functional and always made her laugh inside. It reminded her of a shrink’s couch.
Come in, and tell me what’s bothering you!
What was bothering me?
Luc is right, there are loose ends.
She made herself comfortable lying down, closed her eyes, and reviewed the case. She knew it so well that it was like looking through a viewfinder. She had one as a child. The disks she had were all nature pictures. She had envied her friend down the block. She had a disk with animal pictures!
Thinking back brought a smile on Athena’s face. She had a happy childhood. Nobody expected her to become a cop. But she had everyone’s support after she made up her mind. How incredibly hard must it be to grow up without the support of those around you? The more she learned about Miles the more she liked the man he had become.
Athena kicked the viewfinder into motion.
We found Arthur murdered on stage. Miles was in one of the dressing rooms scrubbing off an 11-hour drive. He was arrested and taken back to post for questioning. The Chief and the others went downtown for the live cast with Adam and the band. Paul stayed to get more information out of Miles. I was here. Then Paul told me. I radioed Luc. He hesitated to return to the Stadium with the others so he came alone. Paul and I went to the Stadium. We found Tripp outside. Paul thought both brothers would be there. We got in, worked our way to the stage. Luc arrived, saw Tripp, called for backup, and went in alone.
And that had turned out to be almost fatal. Jim’s plan was to sabotage the stage’s extensions. Adam, known to be the jumping kind, would dislocate the loosened bolts to the point where the extension would collapse. He’d get seriously hurt falling from that height. They would then post on Facebook that Miles was not just a sub but also an angry little step-bro now arrested, et voilà!
While Karsten, the stronger of the two, was sabotaging the stage from below, Jim had kept an eye on the front entrance. And he saw Luc and that Luc was alone. He jumped on him from behind. To his amazement, the old man wasn’t easy to beat.
We went for the stage. Karsten was shot in the arm by Paul. He screamed to Jim. Jim was beating up Luc. Luc went down. Jim grabbed the syringe from his pocket. Stuck it in Luc’s neck near his aorta, then he saw me. No choice. I had to shoot.
***
Paul had changed into her workout gear and headed to the gym.
I hate loose ends and I am overlooking one. Damn it.
She selected a bicycle and adjusted the seat.
Arthur was butchered with another hex key. He was on stage. Miles was found when the others checked the dressing roo
ms. He said he needed to scrub off the 11-hour drive. Neat freak! Herschel placed him under arrest and took him in for questioning. The Chief and the others went downtown for the live cast with Adam and his band. I was trying to get more out of Miles. Hanson was here. I told her those brothers sounded far more like killers than Miles. She radioed Luc to return to the Stadium. Amazing that he came alone.
We went to the Stadium and found Tripp dead outside. Duct taped and beaten to death. We went to the stage. Karsten was under there with tools. He turned to grab something but I was faster. I shot his arm. Hanson saw the Chief was alone. Jim beat him up. Then Jim saw Hanson. He used the Chief like a shield. Cowardly bastard. I saw the syringe in the Chief’s neck. I was behind Hanson. She aimed and shot the bastard right between the eyes. His head jerked backwards. The Chief fell with the syringe still stuck in his neck.
Paul was certain the case wasn’t over but right now, she couldn’t put her finger on the loose ends. She recalled what Herschel had told her about the interrogation.
Karsten didn’t show any emotions when he was told that his older brother was shot dead. He shrug and asked how long he’d have to stay here because after all he had killed nobody. That’s what he said.
After Jim went down Hanson radioed for an ambulance to get Luc to the emergency room. The syringe had missed his aorta by a millimeter. His physical recovery was almost instantly but the psychological damage was done. He questioned his own judgment. Not just in this case. In any case after the Benedict Brothers. For a while it seemed the Chief had lost his edge. But Hanson saved him again. Diplomatically, she handled all details until Luc had made peace with himself. At least, enough peace to function again as Chief.
How do you forgive yourself for such a blunder? It killed Tripp. Would Tripp be alive if the Stadium had more security? Well, at least he wouldn’t be patrolling outside all by himself, would he?