Chapter 50
Logan
“So … anything new and exciting with you?” Glen stares at me from across his desk, the Toronto Star newspaper sitting in front of him punctuating his question.
I school my expression. “Not much. The new bull seems to be getting along fine with—”
“Oh, fuck off with that!” He waves away my deflection with a meaty hand, and then slides his glasses on to read out loud, “‘Twenty-Year-Old Armed Robbery Heist Solved by OPP Detachment Commander and Accomplice’s Brother.’”
“Can’t believe they didn’t include convict in the title,” I say dryly.
“Don’t worry, they fit it in the article.
” Glen slips his glasses back off. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a parolee make the news so many times and not for committing another crime.
First, you save that lady from drowning, then you’re a witness in helping to tie that bar owner to Holly Monroe’s death, and now this.
” He jabs the newspaper. “Gotta say, I’m impressed. ”
So was everyone when Emery called this in. We pinpointed the burial spot based on Jay’s rudimentary map and confirmed it with the metal detector, but beyond that, she wanted everything properly preserved and documented.
Inside the canister were the stolen jewelry lot, four handguns, and a license plate, all untouched by time and elements, sealed just as Jay and Ian had left them.
Forensics stepped in and discovered that the most valuable thing inside—more valuable than the eighty-thousand-dollar diamond ring—were the fingerprints they managed to lift, tying two living suspects to the crime.
Travis Dorsey flipped on Hank within ten minutes, earning himself a lighter sentence in exchange for his full testimony.
According to him, Hank and Travis went to dispose of the van in the scrapyard, expecting to meet up with Jay and Ian later to divide the loot.
But when they found each other again, that plan had changed.
Ian told them that the stash and guns were somewhere safe, where no one would ever find them, until things cooled down and they had a plan for offloading the jewels without getting caught. Hank and Travis were livid, but there was little they could do.
“You know, some people would have been tempted to keep all that jewelry,” Glen says.
“If you think about it, the store’s already gotten their insurance money, and there’s no way anyone would have ever put all this together.
Sure, some of those diamonds would be too risky to sell off, but you could have melted down the metal or pawned off a ring here, a necklace there.
Kept you in spending money for years. Have you seen the price of gold lately? ”
“Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”
Glen’s eyes widen. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Honestly? I couldn’t get it away from me and my family fast enough. That shit has already cost me extra years in prison. I almost died because of it.” I gesture at my ribs, where the shank punctured me. “And Hank Murphy going away for armed robbery feels damn good.”
Emery claimed that watching him get hauled away in handcuffs for this crime in particular was the most satisfying day of her career.
“You know what? Good for you. You’re a better man than I.” Glen nods slowly. “So? What next? Not that it’ll be anywhere near as exciting as this.”
“Let’s see …” I fold my arms as I lean back, remembering how uncomfortable I was sitting in this chair that first visit.
“The mechanic who works on my family’s farm equipment is willing to let me apprentice with him so I can get more hands-on experience with engines.
Eventually, I can take care of them all. ” Wyatt’s equipment too, likely.
“That’s a good opportunity.” He scribbles a note down. “What else?”
“The Bale House is up for sale and my cousins put in an offer. I think they’ll get it, but I don’t know what that’ll look like.
Those two owning a business together?” I shake my head.
They’re already fighting over what the new name should be.
“They’ve offered me a job behind the bar if I want to make extra money. ”
“Is that something you’re interested in?” Glen’s eyebrows arch. “Talking to people?”
He knows me too well. “I’m getting better at it. But it really doesn’t matter. A 10 p.m. curfew gets in the way.”
“That is a condition of your parole, yes.” He nods. “That doesn’t mean conditions aren’t lifted with time. You keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll see what I can do.”
His offer surprises me, though it shouldn’t. “I’d appreciate that.”
“I told you at the start, didn’t I?” Glen pats his chest. “Big fan.”
“Have I been here before?” The cemetery where Jay rests is on the outskirts of town, surrounded by farm fields in every direction. The driveway in is lengthy and lined by bushes. We’re the only people here today. The only living ones, anyway.
“Of course. Your grandparents are buried here. You were young, though.” My mother leads me past tombstones adorned by flowers—both real and fake—and small jars for candles to the end of the row, where a simple rectangle in dark granite sits.
“Here we are.” She stoops to swap the spent flowers for a fresh bouquet.
Seeing Jay’s full name and dates of birth and death hits me in the stomach a lot harder than I expected, which is ironic given it’s just a piece of stone, not nearly as vivid as the mental image of Jay’s lifeless body lying on the pavement that I still carry.
“‘We remember the good,’” I read the engraved line out loud.
“I didn’t want to leave it blank. That didn’t feel right.” Her smile is sad as she regards her eldest child’s resting spot. “There was good in him. Even if I’m the only one who remembers it.”
“You’re not the only one.” The truth is, Jay wasn’t some one-dimensional cartoon villain.
He was like any other guy—he liked music, beach days in summer down on Manitoulin Island, fishing on Lake Temagami with his kid brother.
He helped his mother carry in groceries, and if he got caught at home when a bale of hay needed dropping out in the field, he’d help with that, even if he hated doing it.
Jay had redeeming qualities.
But he also loved chasing thrills, and he never considered the consequences.
And he destroyed so many lives. He might not have meant to, but the decisions were his, all the same.
That is the ongoing battle that all who loved him have to face, and there is no solution that leaves any of us at peace.
I have twenty years’ worth of reasons to hate him and yet buried among it all, I still remember the good.
My mom kneels, and with her spade in hand begins removing weeds that dared take root.
“You know, I noticed that pencil-drawn sketch when I took all those posters down. I recognized Jay’s handwriting.
Made me wonder how long it’d been there.
’Course, I had no idea what it meant, but a part of me worried.
A bigger part of me didn’t want to know.
” She examines the thistle she’s extracted and then digs deeper, yanking out the thick white root.
“Just like I had a feeling there was more to that story with you and that man in prison. A part of me worried that it had something to do with Jay, and a part of me didn’t want to know.
I didn’t mind wearing blinders. I needed them. ”
Finished with her task, she rises, brushing her hands across her jeans. It’s a rare summer day when Annie Landry isn’t wearing soil. “You all think I didn’t know what my son was. That’s why you and Emery hid all this mess with Hank and the stolen jewelry from me, until you couldn’t anymore, right?”
“We didn’t know exactly what we were looking for, and I was worried what we might find,” I admit.
Her gray-blue eyes study me. “You mean bodies?”
There’s no way to sugarcoat that. “Yeah.”
Her brow pinches. “And if you had found them? What then?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head because, honestly, I don’t know how I would have handled discovering that Jay was involved in someone else’s death.
I suppose that could still be the case. “But thank God we didn’t find that.
We righted a wrong and put two people behind bars who deserve to be there.
” Cold River is a better place without Hank Murphy, regardless of whether it benefits me.
“So, your brother ended up helping you from the grave.” She pats the tombstone. “And now I think it’s time you let go of all of it, Logan. Move on from that tragedy, and from agonizing about what Jay may or may not have done all those years ago. It’s not your burden to carry. Not anymore.”
I inhale deeply, feeling her words. I hadn’t realized how much the years of wondering and worrying had weighed on me, how much the unknown had festered to the worst possible outcomes.
“You still have a whole life ahead of you to live, and it can be such a beautiful one, if you allow it.” Reaching up to cup my jaw, she smiles, then releases me and ambles over to tackle the weeds at my grandparents’ grave.