Chapter 25
Thora dropped the phone and screamed into her hands. That vision she had of George at Devil’s Cauldron—that couldn’t have
been him, could it? Had he snuck up to the kitchen and picked a rotisserie chicken clean? He simply couldn’t have been responsible
for the most malicious incidents, the candle burning under the basement doorknob and the rattlesnake. It didn’t make any sense.
Thora threw herself onto Mack’s couch and gave herself a few minutes to wail and gnash her teeth. The confusion, the grief,
the fear, everything collided in the most horrifying medley of emotions that simply overwhelmed her. She was home alone, sobbing
into a pillow. She did that until dropping into a fitful sleep, her body simply overloading and giving up on her.
When she woke, not a whit refreshed, the anger surged to the forefront.
There hadn’t been a memorial for George because he expressly stated he didn’t want one.
But what had happened between when Mikey allegedly found George’s body in the house and the fire?
Now she had a mystery to solve. And her curiosity helped her out of her muddled state into one of action.
First, she texted Mikey. Can we talk?
Mikey worked at another location of the AdironGas chain that employed Mack. Sure, I can take my 15 minute break right now.
“What’s up?” Mikey asked when he picked up the phone.
Thora breathed deep. This was going to be a rough conversation for them both, she knew it. “I need to talk to you about when
George died.”
“Okay,” Mikey said, dragging out the second syllable.
“Can you tell me what it was like when you found him?”
“Thora, I don’t think you want to hear about this.”
“No, I do.”
“Don’t blame me if you get nightmares. Mack asked me to bring some groceries up to Juniper. I went in through the kitchen
door and called his name. He didn’t say anything and I thought maybe he was taking a nap or whatever.”
“Right.”
“I put the groceries away and then started looking through the house. He wasn’t in any of the rooms. I thought he must be
out for a hike or whatever.”
She was thankful for the thorough picture he was painting. “Uh-huh.”
“I figured I would wait around, because he never went too far, and I wanted to make sure he didn’t need anything else. That’s
when I noticed the basement door was open.”
A lump swelled in her throat. “So you went down into the basement,” she managed to croak out.
“You still have that burn scar from when I pranked you?”
“Sure do. It’ll probably be there forever.” Now the first man she might have truly loved had a matching one. Wasn’t that another cruel joke?
“God, I was such a little asshole.”
“Was?”
“Shut up. You want to hear the story or not?” he said, calling up that petulant self perfectly.
“My apologies. Proceed.” Thora was trying to stay cool as she heard these specifics of George’s death for the first time from
the person who found him.
“I went into the basement and found him.”
“And you were sure he was dead?”
Mikey took a long pause. “There was no mistaking it. I’ve never been able to unsee it. PTSD diagnosis and everything. I don’t
want to say anything more about it.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. So then what did you do?”
“I ran the hell out of there, drove until I got reception, and called my mom to tell her.”
“And she called 911?”
“Probably. I never followed up, I guess. I figured she had it handled. And we all knew George didn’t want a memorial.”
Surely this didn’t mean what Thora feared.
“Thanks, Mikey. I am sorry to make you dig into the past like this.” She was going to wait until she had the whole story to
tell him about the results of the police investigation.
“I’m doing okay actually. I had EMDR therapy, which helped a lot. Mack calls it my EDM therapy, which makes me wonder what
she thinks I was doing once a week for six months.”
“Healing trauma through beat drops, obviously.”
Mikey chuckled at that. Thora felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t seen Mikey since coming back to Juniper.
She and Mack had such a strong bond, but she hadn’t been able to establish anything approaching that strength with anyone else in her family.
It was a pleasant surprise to know Mikey took his pain seriously.
Most Williamsons would grit their teeth through the hardship and mistake suppression for proper processing.
“Can you text me your mom’s number?” Thora asked. The fact that she didn’t have it in her phone already was indicative of
these degraded family bonds.
“Sure. What for?”
“I have to inventory everything at Juniper for insurance reasons, and I thought she might be able to help,” Thora said. It
wasn’t technically a lie. The inventory was in process and Aunt Mary Jo might be able to help. Mikey could know the real truth
once Thora herself established it.
“Makes sense.”
“Thanks. I’ll catch you later.”
Thora wanted to believe Mikey regarding finding George’s remains, but it was truly inconceivable that no one had removed them
from the house. So she called up Mary Jo.
“Who’s this?” she answered. The chilly tone felt about right, considering how this was going.
“Hi, Mary Jo, it’s Thora.”
“Oh. I guess my phone doesn’t know you.”
You don’t know me either, Thora thought. George, Mack, and Lee were probably the only people who ever had.
“I had some questions about what happened when George died.”
“Your house burned down and you’re thinking about George?”
Thora decided not to pay any heed to the condescension. “It’ll make sense later, I promise. Mikey told me that when he found
George, he immediately called you.”
“Yes he did. Always a good boy, that Mikey.” The first trace of warmth softened her voice. An actually good boy could have called emergency services himself, not that Mary Jo’s opinion could be swayed.
“What did you do after Mikey called?” Thora asked.
“I called your mother. I didn’t want to be stuck with the bill from a funeral home, and George had given your father the power
of attorney. I knew he would be the best person to deal with it.”
“But you didn’t call my father?”
“Oh honey, you can’t count on a man in this kind of situation.”
Couldn’t count on Mary Jo either, not that she would be reflecting on that. These tired gender roles were exhausting her.
“And you didn’t call the police or 911?” she pushed.
“Mikey said the man was very dead. Didn’t seem like much of an emergency.”
Thora had so many questions. Maybe it came from watching too many medical dramas during evenings with Bryony, but she thought
deaths that occurred outside of a hospital required an investigation.
“Okay, thank you, I think that’s everything I need to know.”
“Bye dear.”
The endearment rang false. Mary Jo did not hold her dear. She probably called everyone that so that they’d think she was nice.
The game of telephone continued. She called her mother. “Hi, Mom.”
“How is everything?”
Shitty! Not only had she lost her house and a man she was growing to love, it increasingly seemed like she’d been sharing
her house with the corpse of a beloved relative for a week!
“Fine,” she said.
She could acknowledge she was part of the problem here with the communication gap. But she wasn’t interested in remedying
that at this moment. “I have some questions about what happened when George died.”
“Okay.” Apparently she wasn’t even curious why.
“Mikey found George. He called Mary Jo. Mary Jo called you.”
“And I talked to your father. Mary Jo loves to think all men are worthless besides Mikey. The sun shines out of Mikey’s ass.”
Thora could do without the editorializing, even though she was inclined to agree with her mother’s assessment.
“And what did Dad do?” she continued.
“He called Uncle Lou. It made absolutely no sense that we were going to deal with this mess from Massachusetts.”
“Mary Jo said Dad had the power of attorney.”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to meet with funeral directors and pick out caskets. That’s for people who live close
by to do.”
The Williamsons were gold medal buck passers. Dodgeball champions, if the ball was one single responsibility. Not that Thora
put any stock in being proud of one’s name or lineage, but this was getting ridiculous. “Did you realize Mary Jo hadn’t called
any emergency services to come to Juniper?”
“No, I didn’t ask. Why?”
She steeled herself to deliver her horrific theory. “I don’t think anyone ever came to get George’s body.”
“What?” her mother shouted into the phone. Finally, someone else’s emotions were being stirred by this shitshow.
“I’m 99.99% sure. I have to call Lou though.”
“Do you have his phone number?”
“No,” Thora said through gritted teeth.
With the number written on the palm of her hand in ballpoint pen, Thora made what she assumed was going to be her final phone call regarding this matter.
“Hi, Uncle Lou, it’s Thora,” she said, trying to sound as neutral as she could.
“Everything okay, Thora?” There was a tone of alarm in his voice.
She understood. Why would she ever call this man under normal circumstances? In a functional family, a random call from a
relative wouldn’t strike fear into someone’s heart. George, as the most vulnerable member of that dysfunctional family, never
stood a chance. She’d swallowed so much guilt and shame without acknowledging how systemically her family had failed him.
It was never just her.
Oddly, that panicked answer set her slightly at ease. She could give herself a little grace, even if what she wanted to do
was vomit some guilt and shame onto the members of her parents’ generation.
“Everything’s fine. I’m trying to put some missing pieces into place about Juniper.”
“I know you’re probably sad that old shack burned down, but honestly, there’s probably pretty good money coming your way from
the insurance.”
She didn’t care about the money. She’d throw everything Bryony left her into the sea if it meant she could save even a fraction
of the irreplaceable treasures from the house. If she could start fresh with Lee.
“Maybe,” she said noncommittally. “Here’s my understanding of what happened when George died. My father called you to get