Chapter 6
The ruins of the burned-down Waverly Mansion stood as a somber testament to the devastation that swept through its halls twenty years earlier. Charred timbers jutted out at odd angles, their blackened surfaces bearing witness to the ferocity of the flames that had consumed them. In the center of what was once the enormous living room, a massive fireplace loomed like a silent soldier amidst the wreckage.
Etched into the stone above the hearth was a large phoenix, its intricate wings spread wide as if poised for flight. In front of the imposing fireplace lay the pit where the burned body had been found. The charred earth bore the imprint of the new flames that had ravaged it.
A week after her hospital discharge, Olivia and Michael walked through the remnants, their footsteps careful not to kick up the decaying leaves. She gazed at the remains of the once-beautiful home, unable to shake the feeling that there were still secrets hidden within its walls, waiting to be uncovered.
“You okay, Liv?” Michael carried a forensics kit. “That was a long walk into the site.”
Olivia glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. He was more than just a companion on investigations; he was a former NYPD arson investigator who brought a wealth of experience to their partnership. His transfer to the Waverly County Police Department after moving to Waverly Junction initially raised eyebrows, but his expertise in arson cases quickly solidified his position.
She used her inhaler. “Just fine.” She slipped it into her pocket and lifted her camera, shooting pictures of the entire ruins. “I’ve lived here all my life and never hiked out here.”
She sat on the remains of what used to be a mahogany end table and sketched the hole where the burnt body of a male was found. “Why here?” she asked, less a question for her partner and more a question to the ether.
“Until we get a cause of death and ID, haven’t a clue. Ritual killing? Desolate location?” Michael put out some ideas.
“Do you see any drag marks in the woods? There doesn’t seem to be much seepage into this ditch. I’ll look a little deeper.”
With the forensic brush in hand, Olivia meticulously swept the dirt, her trained eye scanning for any overlooked clues. As she brushed away the earth, a glass vial revealed itself, an intricate phoenix etching catching the light.
“A vial with a phoenix symbol? That”s peculiar,” Michael commented.
Olivia examined the vial closely, her mind racing. “This might be more significant than we thought.”
She carefully secured the vial, making notes and taking more photographs for further analysis. He watched, a silent partner in their investigative dance.
As they left the site, Michael walked beside her, their footsteps crunching on the fallen leaves littering the forest floor. There was something in his demeanor that set her on edge, a hint of too much familiarity that made her pulse quicken.
“Liv,” Michael said with a charming smile, stepping a little closer than what felt appropriate for their casual conversation. “You did great out there today.”
Olivia forced a polite smile, trying to keep her tone casual as she responded, “Thanks, Michael. It was a team effort.”
As they continued walking, Michael”s words took on a flirtatious undertone, his gaze lingering a little too long and his tone a touch too suggestive. “You know, Liv, I couldn”t help but notice how amazing you looked back there.” His smile widened as he glanced at her. “When I heard about the fire… God, you could have died. And considering what happened, you look like you got your color back.”
Olivia”s discomfort grew with each passing moment, her heart pounding in her chest as she searched for a way to politely extricate herself from the situation. “Um, thanks, Michael, but let”s stay focused on the case.”
Michael wasn”t taking the hint, his advances becoming more persistent by the second.
“Come on, Liv, don”t be like that.” He reached out to gently touch her arm. “I promise it”ll be fun. Just you and me, exploring the woods together.”
Before Olivia could respond, the sound of branches snapping nearby interrupted their conversation, and Detective Andrews emerged from the trees. “Hey, guys, your radio isn’t picking up. We”ve got to head back to town,” his voice cut through the tension like a lifeline. “Captain wants us back for a debrief.”
Relief flooded through Olivia as she seized the opportunity to escape Michael”s unwanted advances. She shot Andrews a grateful smile and quickly fell into step beside him, eager to put some distance between herself and her overly flirtatious colleague.
She had been spared from a potentially uncomfortable situation, but she knew eventually she’d have to deal with it.
* * *
Jackson spedthrough the city”s winding streets, heading to his adoptive parents” house on the west side of town. The quaint Cape Cod-style home, with its sloping roof and cozy dormer windows, exuded a timeless charm, nestled amidst a picturesque landscape of rolling hills and lush greenery. Painted in a soft shade of robin”s egg blue, the exterior seemed to blend seamlessly with the tranquil surroundings. A neatly trimmed lawn stretched out in front, dotted with colorful flower beds and bordered by a picket fence.
A winding gravel driveway led up to the front of the house, flanked on either side by towering oak trees that provided welcome shade in the summer months. The detached garage, painted to match the house, stood nearby.
Jackson parked his truck in the familiar driveway and made his way to the front door. He knocked and slid his key into the lock. Martha Reynolds opened the door at the same time. Her face was lined with age, but, bearing a warm, welcoming smile, she opened her arms.
Sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting soft beams of light across the hardwood floors and illuminating the comfortable furnishings that filled the rooms. In the kitchen, the scent of freshly baked cookies lingered in the air, mingling with the aroma of brewing coffee. Family photos adorned the walls, capturing cherished memories of years gone by and adding a personal touch to the welcoming space.
Jackson”s mother was an outwardly happy woman, but beneath her cheerful exterior lay a quiet strength—a resilience forged in the face of adversity. She had faced her fair share of challenges over the years, but she never let them dim her spirit or dampen her optimism, especially when it came to her only son.
He had known since he was four that he was adopted, but the details surrounding the adoption were shrouded in mystery. His mother had shared bits and pieces of how he was found but always evaded the full story. He had asked multiple times, but his parents would deflect the conversation, as if the answers were too painful to reveal.
After his conversation in Olivia’s hospital room with Charlotte, he needed to know what his mother was hiding. This was his first free moment to speak with his mother since talking to Charlotte Everhart.
“Jackson, you surprised me. What brings you here on a weekday morning? Is everything alright?” she asked, concern in her eyes.
“Mom, we need to talk.” He knew he couldn”t put it off any longer. He sought answers to the secrets his family had kept buried for far too long.
Martha Reynolds looked at her son, her eyes filled with apprehension. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter the cozy living room.
Jackson took a deep breath, his heart pounding. Opening this door might lead to painful truths, but he couldn”t ignore his questions any longer. He sat on a corner of the couch and motioned for his mother to sit across from him on her usual spot, a comfortable armchair.
“Mom, I need to know,” Jackson began. “How did you and Dad come to adopt me?”
Martha sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands folded in her lap. “Jackson, you know some things are better left in the past. Dad and I wanted to protect you from that pain.”
Jackson leaned forward, his voice firm. “I can”t protect anyone if I don”t know the truth. Turk and I went hiking on our day off. We went in search of and finally found the old Waverly mansion buried deep in Waverly woods.” He swallowed hard. “We found a body that was recently left there.
“Olivia Everhart was injured in a different fire, and when I went to visit her in the hospital, I was sitting with her mother, Charlotte. I asked her what she knew about the original fire at the Waverly mansion, including a phoenix symbol on the remnants of a fireplace mantel. She suggested you might know more than she did.” He stood and walked to the curio cabinet that stood in the corner of the living room and lifted a sterling silver rattle. Etched on the handle was a phoenix. When he handed it to his mother, she placed it on the table.
Martha met Jackson’s gaze, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Alright, I suppose it’s time.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Your father and Chuck Everhart found you beneath your momma’s body in the living room the night the Waverly mansion burned.”
Jackson sank down into the couch. His face turned pale, and his breaths turned ragged.
“Your birth mother, Rainey, and her boyfriend, Christopher, died in that fire.” She closed her eyes, reopened them, and looked at Jackson with tears shining. “Christopher Waverly and Rainey Ashcroft.”
The names began to sink in—the last names of the two families who founded the town and were embroiled in a feud. The town lore had been passed down for years.
“Earlier that day, Christopher had a disagreement with the Waverly Junction town council, a dispute over a business deal. It escalated into a heated confrontation at the meeting.”
Jackson”s pulse rose as he listened intently, his mother”s words unraveling a long-kept secret.
“That night, hours after the argument, the fire broke out. Christopher, Rainey and you were trapped inside. They were overcome by the smoke just inside the front door. Apparently, the deadbolt was engaged. They couldn’t make it out. You were found beneath Rainey.”
“This rattle was in your hand.” She handed Jackson the sterling silver rattle. “You were barely two months old. We still don’t know how you survived. Poor sweet baby, you had severe smoke inhalation.”
She swallowed. “I was working that night in the PICU. I spent the night taking care of you. While you were in the hospital, we contacted Robert Kendrick, the town attorney. As per his instructions, we placed an ad in the legal notices of the local papers seeking any relatives. No Ashcrofts or anyone related to Rainey were found. No one responded to the ad, so the court allowed your dad and me to legally adopt you.”
She frowned. “Rainey was eighteen and pregnant when she began her relationship with Christopher, who was twenty-five. Christopher’s parents, Silas and Jule, as well as Christopher’s grandparents, Sinclair and Edna, wanted no part of Rainey’s baby.” She swiped at her eyes. “Dad and I paid for the testing they did in those days. From what the lab could tell us, Rainey was your momma, but the tissue testing was inconclusive for Christopher Waverly. But with their signature, the Waverlys relinquished any rights.” She reached for his hand. “Dad and I didn’t tell you because we knew that news would hurt your feelings.”
Tears welled up in Jackson”s eyes as he absorbed the truth. His birth mother’s fate and how he was adopted was becoming clear, but, most importantly, he now understood his parents’ fear of hurting his feelings. He sat slack-jawed, but, after a long pause, he finally spoke. “Oh, Mom. How can I be hurt? You and Dad wanted me dearly.”
“Your dad and I always planned to tell you. Then your dad was gone. Can you forgive me?” She pulled a crumpled tissue from the pocket of her apron and dabbed her nose.
Jackson hated to see her cry. He thought for a moment and realized scolding his mom about keeping the secret would only cause her more pain and change nothing. He never felt unloved. He offered her an understanding smile. “What happened the night of the fire?”
Martha”s gaze darkened. “Your momma and Christopher were in love. She worked as a maid in the Waverly house under the name of Rainey Bradshaw. She was pregnant before they started seeing each other. When we investigated, we discovered there was no father listed on your birth certificate. After the fire, Sinclair Waverly suspected Rainey used the name Bradshaw for some type of revenge against the Waverlys.
“The arsonist left Christopher, Rainey and you to die without facing any consequences. Your dad and Chuck thought someone on the Waverly town council ordered the fire.” She took a deep breath. “They never found out who. But your dad and Chuck thought it was started with white phosphorus. The official report said it was an accidental electric fire.”
Jackson blew out a breath. “White phosphorous ignites when it’s added to oxygen with a fierce and unforgiving flame.”
“Your dad and Chuck Everhart coined a nickname for part of the town council at the time: The Council of Nine. Your dad was the tenth, and Chuck Everhart was number eleven. The Nine ruled by intimidation. They always got their way. Robert Kendrick was on the council. If we’d known how ruthless he was, we’d never have used him as our attorney. Your dad and Chuck figured out he was the keeper of the town secrets.”
“Mom, please. Tell me,” he pleaded.
“Come with me.” Martha headed to his father’s upstairs office, where she now kept all of his father’s and his awards as well as ran the house business.
She slid open a set of pocket doors and removed a file secreted inside. “Those who dared to voice dissent against the majority of the town council faced intimidation and coercion. People who disagreed with the council”s decisions found themselves targeted by a campaign of harassment and retribution.
“For some, it meant facing smear campaigns designed to discredit their reputation and undermine their credibility in the eyes of the public. False accusations and malicious rumors were spread. Others faced more direct threats of violence or blackmail. Lives and livelihoods were placed in jeopardy by those seeking to maintain their grip on power at any cost.”
Jackson clenched his fists, anger coursing through him. Could the body we found be related to Christopher and Rainey’s deaths or my birth? “Does this Council of Nine still exist?”
Martha shrugged gravely. “We stopped paying attention when your dad chose not to run for re-election. By then, he was volunteering as your football, basketball, and baseball coach. You were more important than any town council.”
Did they threaten Dad?Jackson’s shoulders sagged. “Mom, I know this was hard for you to share with me. Thank you.”
But he knew there were more secrets yet to be revealed.
* * *
By the timeJackson left his mom’s, it had turned into a cold night. He decided to check on Olivia. Chinese takeout in hand, he made his way to her place, his mind still swirling with the revelations from the discussion about his adoption and the town council.
He knocked gently on her door, the faint aroma of spices from the food wafting through the air. She greeted him with a mixture of surprise and warmth in her eyes. Liv”s apartment was in a quiet neighborhood. It was decorated with a blend of modern and vintage elements, giving it a unique and comfortable atmosphere. The living room had warm, earthy tones and a plush, olive-green sofa. The coffee table was piled with books and magazines. Soft, ambient lighting came from a combination of floor lamps and some strategically placed LED candles.
“Jackson, what brings you here?” Her cheeks pinked.
“I thought I”d swing by, see how you”re feeling. Brought some Chinese food too. I figured you might not feel up to cooking. May I come in?”
She waved him inside. “Sure.”
He entered her apartment, placing the containers on the table. The kitchen boasted a sleek design with stainless-steel appliances and granite countertops. Olivia”s love for cooking was evident in the well-organized shelves filled with cookbooks and neatly arranged spices. A small dining area adjacent to the kitchen featured a rustic wooden table surrounded by mismatched chairs, giving it a charming, eclectic vibe.
“Sit.” She walked into her kitchen and grabbed some dishes and silverware. “Can I get you something to drink?” She placed the plates on the table.
He pulled some tea bags out and waved them. “Tea?”
Olivia put up the kettle and returned to the dining area. “I went back to work today. I took a walk out to the Waverly estate.” She swished her jaw. “My partner and I did a little excavating.” She stared at Jackson. “We found a glass vial with a phoenix etched in the glass. It was sent to the ME.” She grabbed her phone and brought up a photograph.
“Damn.” He followed her back into the kitchen and waited for the water to boil. After pouring the boiling water into the mugs Liv pulled out of the cabinet, he carried them to the table. They both sat. “It looks like the same design on the fireplace.”
Jackson opened the containers. “I got a chicken, beef, and a shrimp dish. I didn’t know what you like.” He stopped and pressed his hands between his knees. “Livvy, I need to tell you something.” He took a deep breath.
“What’s wrong?” Liv leaned in toward him.
“Your mom. When you were in the hospital, I asked her if she knew anything about the estate. She advised me to talk to my mom.” He slurped a sip of the hot tea. “I was adopted. I knew that. But she was always evasive about the circumstances.”
A fine sweat broke out across his forehead. “My mother kept stuff from me all these years. But today she finally told me my father and yours found me as an infant beneath the body of my dead birth mother. They found me in the ashes of the Waverly mansion fire.” He reached into his pocket and placed the engraved silver rattle on the table. “And this was found in my hand.”
* * *
Liv listenedin stunned silence as Jackson revealed the startling truth about his past, her own mind reeling. As he continued, recounting the circumstances of his adoption and the secrets that had been kept from him for so long, empathy washed over her. She could see the pain etched in the lines of his face, the raw emotion in his words.
Reaching out, she placed a comforting hand on his arm. In that moment, the distance between them vanished, replaced by a shared bond that had brought them together.
And as she looked at the silver rattle, a symbol of the secrets that had shaped his life, Liv knew there were more ghosts in their past.
* * *
“I never felt abandonedor unloved. But this, it”s a lot to process, you know? Learning about where I came from, how I ended up being adopted.”
Olivia continued to listen, her eyes remaining teary.
Jackson rarely let anyone in, much less let them see him vulnerable. Yet he felt safe allowing her to see this side of him.
“I can”t imagine how you’re feeling.” She walked to his side and wrapped him in her arms. In that intimate moment, something shifted between them. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
Their eyes met again, igniting a flicker of something more. “Liv, we better eat before the food gets cold.” He put the brakes on how he was feeling. He’d never felt so off-balance with a woman before.
She nodded and returned to her seat.
As they ate, they continued getting to know each other. “You know some of my story. Tell me about your family,” he asked, his eyes gleaming.
She chuckled. “You met my mom and two of my sisters. There are five of us. I’m the oldest. You met Sophie, the ER doc. You met Molly, the ME. Then there’s Isobel, a forensic psychologist specializing in criminal behavior and profiling. Ruthie is a defense attorney.”
“The Everhart girls. What a group.” He smiled at her. “I’m growing partial to the big sister.”
Olivia blushed. “Well, Captain Reynolds, I’m growing partial to you too.”
He checked his watch and looked sad. “Livvy, I need to get going. I’m due on shift tonight.”
She walked him to the door. “Be careful.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
Jackson closed his eyes and savored the kiss. It was a gentle kiss filled with desire and promise. If he had a choice, he’d kiss her for days.
A fire alarm ringtone sounded on his phone, reminding him he needed to head to work. His eyes opened, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “Promise me you’ll give me a raincheck.”
“It would be my pleasure.” She gave him a wide smile.