Chapter 33

Bolton

I drove as quickly as I could without alarming anyone into my drive. My keys in my hand, I unlocked the door and called out for Lilly. She didn’t answer, but Mrs. Polk came out of the kitchen, her face white with something. “She’s not here. She took the baby for a walk. I’m surprised you didn’t see them as you came in.”

I went cold inside. Anything that wasn’t normal was suspicious. “Mrs. Polk, whatever you do, stay in the kitchen, you hear? Don’t answer the door or let anyone in unless it’s me or Lilly. Tell Mary the same thing.”

Her mouth opened, but I didn’t stay to explain. “Do it!” I shouted and left. “Lilly!” I called, walking around the house, but she didn’t answer. I spotted cars down at the barns and reasoned she might have walked down there to see Mr. Fred. I hadn’t gone more than two feet before Mr. Fred himself burst around the corner of the house and grabbed my arm.

“Bolt, get back!”

“What’s wrong? Is Lilly with you?”

“Someone took her and the baby, Bolt. I thought the car was the people from Covington, coming to look at the foal. I headed that way when I saw some guy in a heavy coat come out of the barn, and she was right there with the baby. He threw a bag or something over her head, shouldered her, and picked up the baby. She started screaming and then stopped. Thought I’d better come up here for reinforcements.”

My heart pounded as I ran back into the house and unlocked my office, pocketing three guns. I handed one to Mr. Fred outside and told him to conceal it and walk toward the barns calmly, just like he always did. “I’ll come, but inside the tree line. Don’t do anything courageous, Mr. Fred, but he’s not here to hurt her. He’s here for me.”

He reached the barn just steps ahead of me. I’d hung back for that reason, my eyes searching for clues and logistics as I approached. As I got close, I could hear Jinx wailing, but not a sound from Lilly. That made my blood freeze. I motioned Mr. Fred to go around to the other side of the barn and then hold up. When he was in position, I came out of the tree line and approached the barn from the back. At that moment, I heard two shots.

“Goddammit!” I yelled, running as fast as I could toward the barn. When I was ten feet away, the door opened, and a man’s leg emerged. I rolled to the ground and out of line of sight so I could catch him from the side or back. I raised my gun, and then checked it.

“Dad! Dad? What are you doing here?”

“Heh! Well, Bolt, about time you showed up.” He was holding a wailing Jinx.

“Dad, where are they? Where’s Lilly?”

“She’s inside.”

I didn’t wait for an explanation but kicked the door open, my guns in hand. A shaft of sunlight came through a skylight above the hayloft, and where it hit the floor, there were two bodies. Mr. Fred burst in from the side and we both froze at the sight.

There was a man and a woman. I leaped toward her, kneeling beside her. Rolling her over, I prepared myself for the worst.

It was Michele. Mr. Fred had rolled over the man who was obviously dead, shot through the head. He was moving along the perimeter of the barn, shoving aside feed buckets and bales of hay in his search. “Got her!” he shouted.

I got to her just as Mr. Fred lifted her up. I grabbed her wrist. She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead! I took Lilly from him and hurried out of the barn, just as Lilly was beginning to stir. The fresh air helped, and I slapped her wrists, kissing her at the same time.

“She’ll be OK,” my father said from his position on the tailgate of his truck. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed it when I arrived, but there it was. “Just a little chloroform, I’m guessing. They weren’t after her, Bolt. They were after you… and me.”

“Bolt?” Lilly was calling my name. “Jinx?” she asked sitting up where I’d placed her on the grass.

“He’s fine, he’s fine. Are you OK?”

“My head hurts, but yes. Bolt, someone grabbed me.”

“It’s OK, sweetheart. It’s over. They’re…gone.”

“They? Who? Why? Give me my baby!”

“Now you just sit there a little longer till you get your head back. I’ve got the baby,” my dad spoke up.

“Here, I’ll take him,” I said, moving toward them.

“Nuh-uh-uh. No you don’t. This is the first time I get to hold my grandson. Not so fast.”

“Dad, no, he’s not—”

“Not what? My grandson? You’re full of shit, as usual, Bolt. Look at them eyes. He’s the spittin’ image of your mother. He’s got her eyes and nose. That baby is all Symington, son. Let’s hope he got a little of my gumption, though.”

I couldn’t have been more galvanized if I’d been struck by lightning. My father was right! Those were my mother’s eyes, my eyes. That’s why I’d taken to him so quickly. I just never let myself see it. I turned to look at Lilly, and she mustered a half smile and nodded. “I was going to tell you at our wedding,” she said weakly.

“I don’t understand, Dad. I heard shots.”

“Of course, you did. I pulled the trigger. Got the both of them.”

“But, Dad, that’s Michele Overton in there, Dad. She’s an American diplomat! You killed an innocent woman!”

“Like hell I did. She wasn’t one of us, son. She flipped a few years back, but we just hadn’t been able to prove it. But I’d gotten the goods on her, and she knew it. She got him, and they were comin’ for us.”

“You mean?”

He nodded and put the baby on his shoulder, patting him gently to calm his crying.

I turned around. “Mr. Fred, I’m going to have to ask you to leave us. There’s something private we need to talk about.”

“Aw, hell, Bolt. He knows, goddammit.”

“Knows? Knows what?”

“How about her?”

“She knows, too.”

“Well, then, come on up to the house, and let’s take this baby inside. I need a brandy,” he growled, and before I could stop him, he climbed behind the wheel of his truck and started the ignition, Jinx on his shoulder.

“Hold on there,” I said, running toward him.

“Get in back, dammit. I’ll drive slow. Got a baby on my shoulder, don’t you see that?”

I stood there, helpless and confused, but I helped Lilly up, and the three of us sat on the tailgate as Dad drove over the field up toward his house. As soon as he stopped, Lilly jumped off and took Jinx from him.

Once everyone had calmed down and we were sitting in Dad’s great room, he began to talk. I realized I hadn’t been in the house since my mother died. It felt strange.

“Son, you’re not worth a damn as a spy, I can tell you that,” he said, and I immediately bristled, but I kept my seat.

“Why do you think your mother and I quarreled so much? She never wanted me to leave, said it scared her. So, I let her go with me sometimes, when you were real little. You and her stayed at a resort while I’d go in, and when I was done, we’d see a little more of the world and then come back. Why the hell do you think they came to you when you were finishing college? You think they just pulled your name out of a hat?”

“They told me it was the languages,” I said, feeling like a schoolboy.

“Sure, they did. They tell everybody something. Nobody in his right mind would do what we did. Yeah, the languages helped, came in right handy, tell you the truth. But you were my son, and that gave them two of us to hold over one another’s head. I’ll bet you Michele told you something dirty about me, didn’t she?”

I nodded. “Said you and she had an affair.”

He laughed, downing his drink and pouring another. “Figured it was something like that. She always had a hankerin’ for me, but hell, I had your mother. Who in his right mind would lose that?”

“You mean…?”

“You thought I had other women, didn’t you?”

“But…”

“Yeah, that was part of the cover. They had to make me out to be one helluva son of a bitch. Nobody worries about a drunk listenin’ in. Problem was, I played the role too good. As you can see,” he held out his empty glass as testimony and immediately refilled it.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been working for them since I was a kid?”

“Before you came along. That’s how I met your mother. It was a ball for some French damned nobility. I was all dressed in Marine blues and she, well, she was wearing this soft yellow dress that fit her in all the right places. But it wasn’t that—it was the way she held herself, the way she laughed, and how she charmed anyone who came close. I wanted her. I wanted her for myself and to bring her back here and give her a life any woman would dream of.” He took a slug. “Well, I brought her back, and she had a good life, I guess. As good as she could bein’ married to me.”

“Dad,” I started.

“Nope! Don’t say a word. I know what you think of me, and most of it I deserve. I’m a mean drunk, son, but she never gave up on me. She never did. Called me her hero, she did.” His voice trailed off as his eyes looked out somewhere else, where memories live.

I stood up and pulled Lilly and the baby to a stand. “Let me carry my son,” I said, and Lilly smiled and nodded, handing me Jinx.

“His name is Jackson Bolton Symington,” by the way,” she said softly.

I turned in amazement. She nodded. “You never asked.”

I took my woman and my son home.