CHAPTER FOUR
“Mom, I sure hope you’re listening.”
Lance sat on the porch of his new home as his father drove down the lane toward town. Dust swirled behind the tailgate in a beautiful pattern that only an old gravel road in the country could create. He finally understood what his dad meant when he used to say that only people who had been away from everything they loved could appreciate the small details when their world reappeared.
Upon returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, Lance had experienced many of the same emotions—an appreciation for life on a small stage.
Even flushing toilets had become a scene of wonder. Most individuals would never know how good they had it here. Life in small town America was as sweet as fresh honey from the hive.
He looked forward to the day when he didn’t feel like he had to have a weapon by his side to feel whole. Until that day came, he would have to make some arrangements to renew his carry permit now that he’d returned from active duty abroad and currently had a new home address.
Home—twelve acres of spacious land, the large barn positioned to the south that had seen much better days, and the quintessential two-story farmhouse with a complete basement. All of these things were now his—a place to call his own.
Lance wasn’t sure he could put into words what this moment meant to him, but it seemed appropriate that he try. He’d already thanked his dad and had been given the grand tour of the old Fetter place.
From this moment forward, it would be known as Lance Kendall’s property.
“I can’t even begin to tell you how much I miss you.” Lance ran a hand over the worn wood of the porch, picking a weed that had come up through the planks. “It honestly didn’t seem real to drive into town, knowing you wouldn’t be standing on the front porch with a dishtowel in your hand to usher us inside for a home-cooked meal once we returned. Don’t get me wrong. Dad did his best to fill your shoes, but let’s face it—he certainly doesn’t give hugs the way you do. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I still have the imprint of his hand on my back.”
Mary Kendall had always been full of life and just a phone call away. That first year Lance had left home had been a hard row to hoe. Marine Corps Recruit Training had been no picnic. That bit of hell had been followed by ITS and then Camp Pendleton as his first duty station.
It wasn’t something any of the Kendalls talked about over family meals. Honestly, serving their country was just what the Kendalls did and everyone followed in those footsteps. But Lance sure as hell called home to talk to his mama every chance he got, because she was the only one who could make everything okay even when she was thousands of miles away.
“This…” Lance let his voice trail off as he swept his gaze across what was now his land. “This is more than I could have ever imagined, Mama. These gifts you gave to us will eventually be handed down to your grandchildren and then your great-grandchildren. You’ve brought us home, bought us homes, and I am so sorry that you’re not here in person to witness our homecoming.”
Lance would never admit it aloud, but he was envious that Mitch had gotten five additional years with their mother. One thing he’d learned over the last twelve years was that time was precious. The small things mattered more than anyone knew.
“I will not disappoint you, Mama.”
All it had taken Lance was a brief moment after walking through the front door of his new home to envision what it would be like come the end of the year. He’d even picked out the bay window in the living room facing the driveway as the perfect place to put his Christmas tree. His mother had loved the scent of evergreens, so much so that the road leading to the family homestead was lined with full-bodied blue spruce trees Dad trimmed each year before the Christmas season.
The low hum of an engine cut through the peaceful morning, signaling his brother’s impatience for the talk they’d postponed last night.
“Oh, and Mama?” Lance lifted a hand in greeting as Noah pulled his truck in beside Lance’s beat-up old silver F-150 that needed a few days in the shop. He couldn’t bring himself to part with his first owned vehicle, and it had nothing to do with not having a car payment. “I really appreciate you looking out for me. I wouldn’t have done so well finding a body in the wall of my house. I speak on behalf of the rest of us when I say we’re all glad it was Noah.”
“Hey,” Noah called out as he stepped out of his much newer F-150. “I just passed Dad, and he said you were still here. Hard to believe these old places are our new digs, huh?”
“You knew about Mom’s final wish since you got back to town and you didn’t warn me?” Lance was only half-serious, especially after the warning Gus had issued this morning about keeping these new homes under wraps. “I’m pretty sure you owe me breakfast.”
“Congratulations, brother.”
Lance stood and accepted Noah’s handshake, feigning this was like every other morning. Had they each let emotions override this moment, neither one would make it into town for breakfast. Biscuits and gravy were sounding pretty good right about now.
“Do you remember old man Fetter?” Lance asked, leading the way up the porch steps and into the house. This place wouldn’t require a total renovation like Noah’s house, but it certainly hadn’t been updated since the ’70s. “I never in a million years thought he’d leave Blyth Lake.”
“I didn’t even know he’d moved to Florida to be with his daughter until a few days ago when Chester mentioned his weekly Euchre card game was short on players.” Noah ran his hand over the chair rail in the living room. “You could sand this down and revert it back to its original look.”
“It wasn’t part of the initial design, though. Look. This one over here is already falling off.” Lance didn’t use a bit of strength when he touched the chair rail near the door. It fell to the floor with a thud. “Did Chester rope you into playing cards?”
“I was waiting for you, Mitch, Jace, and Gwen to show up so that we can start our own weekly card game,” Noah replied with a smile. “And trust me, we won’t be playing Euchre.”
Uncle Jimmy taught his niece and nephews how to play dealer’s choice poker when they were younger, so each of them were rather well-versed in the various forms of the game. It made for interesting stakes, considering they all knew each other’s tells. With Reese in the mix, well, that could make things even more interesting.
“Where’s Reese?” Lance followed Noah through the house, allowing his brother to take stock of the work ahead. It went unspoken that they would help each other over the next few months and years after that with never-ending renovations, just as they would help the others in restoring their homes. Though they might be living in separate residences, their parents had seen to it that Blyth Lake was their home. “I thought she’d be with you to finish the conversation from last night.”
“She’s at an interview with one of the high school administrators and a schoolboard member. She’s looking at taking a teaching position at our alma mater.” Noah surveyed the main and upper floors before opening the basement door located off the kitchen. He flipped the light switch and bathed the descending stairwell in a golden hue. “I’m surprised that these steps are in such good shape.”
“Be careful,” Lance warned him, having already visited the cold damp cellar earlier. “There’s enough cobwebs down there to house a thousand or so spiders. First thing I’m gonna do is bug bomb this place until the walls glow. How’s Reese doing, anyway? It couldn’t have been easy to find out that the body belonged to Sophia.”
“It wasn’t. And I’ve got to tell you, the suspect pool isn’t all that big considering who had access to the Yoder’s farmhouse back in the day.”
Noah carefully descended the steps one at a time until he’d reached the bottom. He found the dangling string to the lone lightbulb easily, but Lance had plans to rewire the electricity down here for more access to lighting and power outlets.
Most folks in Ohio used their basements as storm shelters during tornado season. Lance wanted additional amenities down here to make it more habitable, plus he’d need a place to work and store his weapons.
Lance pondered what Noah meant by the suspect pool, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out whoever put Sophia’s body behind that drywall was connected to the Andersons in some form or fashion.
Lance had been seventeen years old at the time Emma went missing, so that meant he would have been eighteen and already through boot camp before Pete Anderson put up that wall. Unfortunately, that led him to believe they all personally knew whomever it was who had committed such a horrifying act.
“Originally, Detective Kendrick found out that you were the one who snuck out Emma and Sophia from the campground the summer before Emma went missing.” Noah circled the basement while Lance took a seat on one of the lower steps. He could see why Noah had driven out here instead of having this conversation in town. Gossip was rife in these small towns, and Blyth Lake was no exception. “Kendrick thought there might be a connection until Ms. Osburn clarified what happened that night for everyone.”
“Sophia practically begged me to drive her into town, especially after Emma’s sister refused to take the chance of getting caught.” Lance had to smile at the lengths Sophia and Emma had gone to in order to get a ride into town. “She’d promised to be the one to cover for me and Brynn Mercer when we went skinny dipping. You know how Birdie was about those kinda things.”
That had been a night he would never forget. And he still didn’t regret taking the chance of being caught in town by his parents. Any time spent with Brynn back then had been worth the grounding of a lifetime.
“Yeah, well, did you ever ask why Sophia wanted to go into town?”
“Noah, I was given the chance to go skinny dipping with a girl I’d had a crush on all through junior high and high school. I wasn’t asking questions.” Lance really shouldn’t have to explain this to Noah, especially considering he had Byron Warner—who had been five years older—buy a bottle of strawberry wine to impress Whitney Bell. On second thought, that hadn’t turned out all that well. “I honestly didn’t care to know why Sophia and Emma wanted to go into town. I parked on Seventh Street by the cemetery so that no one would see my truck. Those two walked to Main Street from there and came back around forty-five minutes later. I explained all this to Detective Kendrick on the phone, but he still wants to meet with me in person.”
Lance had come to find out from the state detective that Sophia had set her mind on talking with Annie Osburn, the woman who owned the diner. It turned out that Annie had been an actress years before, returning to Blyth Lake with a daughter in tow, and Sophia had high hopes that the woman would give her advice on how to break into the acting business.
Noah and Reese had filled in the gaps from there, though not regarding Sophia. As far as anyone knew after the camp, no one had heard from Sophia Morton again. Everyone had carried on with their lives, or so everyone had thought.
What surprised Lance was to discover that Reese coming to Blyth Lake for answers had prompted Annie Osburn’s daughter to panic at the thought of someone finding out about her mother’s not-so-reputable start in Hollywood. Cassie Osburn had gone to severe lengths to chase Reese out of town before secrets had been spilled.
“Pete Anderson claims he was the one who put up that additional wall…without a body being stuffed inside the drywall.” Noah had done a full circle and was currently leaning against the wooden railing of the staircase. It was then that Lance saw the stress of the last few months in his brother’s features. “I believe him when he said he did the work.”
“Did Detective Kendrick share with you the coroner’s report?”
“Sophia was killed eleven years ago.” Noah rubbed a hand down his face in frustration. “Somehow, someway, her body was put into that wall without Pete Anderson’s knowledge during construction.”
Lance didn’t have to tell Noah that his speculation seemed a bit far-fetched. What did seem plausible was the belief that Emma Irwin had suffered a similar fate.
“I can already see where your mind is going, and the answer is yes.” Noah didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave for town, so Lance leaned back on the step behind him to rest his elbows. “My property was scoured by the state forensics team for anything and everything. And you can bet your ass that when they were done, I still searched every inch of that house. Oh, and they also dragged the pond. Emma was nowhere to be found.”
“What about the graveyard?” It had been a long drive from Oceanside, California to Blyth Lake, Ohio, so Lance had quite a bit of time to think about the current events on the trip home. “Wouldn’t the cemetery be the perfect burial ground to hide a body? Were there any burials around the time that Emma disappeared?”
“That’s real sick, you know that?” Noah shook his head in disgust as he pulled the whitish-grey string to plunge the basement into darkness. It was a good thing the bulb above the stairs was still in working order. “Don’t go saying shit like that to Detective Kendrick. Next thing you know, I’ll be bailing your ass out of jail.”
Lance unfolded his large frame while flipping Noah the bird before heading back up to the kitchen.
“You can’t tell me you didn’t think of that. Hell, Mitch used to read those Stephen King and Dean Koontz novels like we used to skim through Uncle Jimmy’s Playboy magazines. I might have borrowed a couple of books after Mitch went to boot camp. Anything you need to know about getting rid of bodies are somewhere in those pages.”
Lance thought it in poor taste to recommend the body not be buried in a pet cemetery, though that type of dark humor had gotten him through some of the worst of times. Being pinned down with his unit outside of Kandahar during a road march came to mind. He’d come to rely on that black humor more times than he’d care to admit.
“Kendrick is the detective on the case,” Noah pointed out, following Lance into the kitchen before he turned off the stairwell light and closed the basement door. “Why don’t we leave the professionals to do their jobs, and we’ll focus on our own business.”
“Speaking of which, have you decided what you’re going to do once you settle into your new digs?” Lance had no doubt what his intentions were, but Noah had never expressed interest in working with their dad. “There’s not a lot of engineering jobs in Blyth Lake.”
“No, there’s not.” Noah leaned against the far countertop and crossed his arms as if they had all the time in the world. A glance at Lance’s phone told him that they had less than ten minutes to drive into town. “I haven’t told Dad this, but I’m thinking of approaching Miles and Chad to join in their small business. Maybe I could handle the business and electrical installations end while they work the repair trucks. Let’s face it. Wes and Clayton leaving the family business has definitely put Schaeffer’s Contracting and Flooring into a bit of bind. Miles has been hiring outside electrical contractors for a few years. It would make sense for him to partner up with one full time.”
“You could always freelance yourself, you know.” Lance had always been a proponent of owning one’s own business. “It would give you the ability to pick and choose your own jobs. You certainly have the experience from your time in the Marines. Picking up your contracting license and your journeyman’s certificate would be a cakewalk.”
“I know, but I’d rather take some time and get used to being back in civilian life before I start my own shop.”
Noah didn’t have to explain his sentiment. It wasn’t easy to go from such a regimented routine and people who would lay down their lives for you to people who could care less about honor and integrity.
Admittedly, the people of Blyth Lake would be a lot less of a challenge in that category than an everyday civilian. Most of the residents who lived in their small hometown were honest, trustworthy folks.
Of course, then there was the homicidal nut job running around that had everyone on edge.
“I don’t think getting caught up in a twelve-year-old homicide investigation is what you had in mind, though.” Lance pulled his keys from the front pocket of his jeans. “And I’m getting the feeling that you and Detective Kendrick don’t think Sophia’s murder was an isolated incident.”
Noah raised an eyebrow, as if he was daring Lance to argue with that supposition.
“You do understand what you’re suggesting with that assumption, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do,” Noah replied softly, resting a hand on Lance’s shoulder as they both headed for the door. “We just might have a bona fide serial killer roaming Blyth Lake.”