Chapter 31
Brad sat opposite Liv, Turk, and Jackson, his expression somber. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice strained with emotion. “I managed to get in touch with the Wheatons in New York. They... they told me something I think we all need to know.”
“Michael... he found out he was adopted,” Brad revealed. “It happened when he was injured, during the call where he received the medal of valor. He realized his blood type was different from the Wheatons’.”
A collective gasp filled the room. “That”s why he moved here,” Liv’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Brad nodded. “They told him,” he continued, “about his adoption, about his birth mother...Emily Moore.”
Jackson reached out a comforting hand to Liv. His voice broke the silence, “He came here looking for answers.”
After this news, Jackson retreated to the bedroom, the revelations weighing heavily on him. The conversation left him feeling unsettled and overwhelmed, his thoughts swirling with the magnitude of Sinclair Waverly”s deeds.
* * *
Isobel sat with Liv.“You need to find out if Michael had contact with his birth mother. If so, finding out he was adopted and her death could be the triggers that set him off.”
Liv called the facility where Emily died. The nurse manager had fond memories of Emily. “Her son visited frequently and was with her when she passed away.” The manager sniffled. “His presence brought her such joy in her last months.
“He generously donated most of her belongings, except for her book collection and her diary. Despite her cognitive decline, Emily continued to write in her diary, capturing her thoughts even as they became confused.”
Liv thanked the nurse manager for her time. Her voice trembled with emotion as she spoke to her sister, her words heavy with the weight of sorrow and regret. “I was angry... so angry,” she admitted. “But now... now I”m just sad.
“I can”t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Michael,” she continued, “to find out, as an adult, he was adopted, and then to finally find his birth mother... only to lose her to something as cruel as a brain tumor.”
Tears welled in Liv”s eyes as she struggled to find the right words to express the depth of her sadness. “I just... I don”t know how to process it.” She sighed, the emotion overwhelming her. “How do you come to terms with something like this? How do you find the strength to keep going, knowing the one person you were searching for is gone forever?”
Isobel stood up and hugged her.
* * *
Turk satbeside Jackson in his room, their conversation heavy. Jackson”s brow furrowed. “I can”t believe all of this,” he muttered. “How could this town have been so blind for so long?”
Turk placed a comforting hand on Jackson”s shoulder, offering him a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, no one wanted to know what was really going on behind the scenes. We were just trying to make it through each day.”
Jackson shook his head, his eyes clouded with sorrow. “But still... to think that, all this time, while we went about our lives, people were suffering in silence. It”s heartbreaking because of how evil Sinclair Waverly and the town council were.”
His voice wavered with a mixture of anger and sadness as he spoke. The thought of the pain and suffering inflicted by those in power filled him with a sense of righteous indignation.
“We can”t let them get away with it,” he continued, his jaw clenched. “We have to fight back, expose the truth and hold them accountable for their actions. Otherwise, their corruption will continue to poison this town, and more innocent lives will be destroyed.”
Turk nodded in agreement. “I know it”s hard to come to terms with, but we can”t change the past. What we can do is learn from it and make sure it never happens again.”
Jackson sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But how do we move forward from something like this? How do we even begin to make things right?”
Turk leaned in closer, his voice gentle yet resolute. “First, you need to continue making a difference in people”s lives. Use this as an opportunity to bring about change, to ensure that no one else suffers the way those people did. Turn the pain of our town”s past around. Stop Michael, expose the Waverlys for who they are, and rebuild.”
Jackson”s gaze met Turk”s, a glimmer flickering in his eyes. “You”re right. We can”t undo what”s been done, but we can make a difference now. We can be the ones to stand up and speak out for those who can”t.”
Turk smiled. “Exactly, you can take that Waverly heritage and be the change our town needs. I promise to help you show the past doesn”t define Waverly Junction.”
As they sat in the quiet bedroom, Jackson found serenity in Turk’s company. He worked through his feelings about his connection to the Waverlys and grew even more secure in his identity as Martha and David Reynolds’ son.
* * *
As Liv beganto piece together the puzzle in her mind, a realization struck her. “Brad, we need to find where Emily Moore lived before she went into the home. I worked a fire scene in Parkside Woods. There were hot burn spots.” She hit her heel of her hand against her forehead. “He was figuring out how much white phosphorous to use.”
As she voiced her suspicions aloud, Turk and Jackson came down the stairs, Jackson’s expression grim. “We need to walk the area. But I’d guess the next target would be the Waverly estate,” he confirmed. “The house and surrounding woods would be a helluva finale.”
“I’ll call Lamply, have an engine dispatched to the estate,” Turk said.
“Lamply. Wasn’t he on the council in 1979?” Jackson asked.
“One more target,” Liv whispered. She wasted no time in alerting the police to the potential arson target, while Turk stepped into the other room to call the chief to dispatch an engine to the estate and to his home.
Liv swished her jaw.
Jackson asked, “Livvy, what’s wrong?”
“It doesn’t fit. None of the victims have been killed where the fires were set,” she insisted.
“Liv, you were right. Emily Moore had a small home in Parkside Woods,” Brad said.
“That’s where he killed them,” Liv whispered.
Turk returned, looking ill. “Lamply’s secretary said the chief left with Detective Wheaton an hour ago.”
* * *
In the smallempty room in Emily Moore”s home, Michael Wheaton stood, his gaze fixed on Chief Lamply, who was bound to a chair.
Michael adjusted the camera he had set up, ensuring it captured every moment of their interaction. With a steady hand, he pressed record and began to speak, his voice firm and resolute. “Hello, Liv. By the time you receive this recording, you”ll know the truth. Chief Lamply here is responsible for the murder of your dad, Chuck Everhart.”
Lamply”s eyes widened in disbelief at Michael”s accusation. “You have no proof,” he spat, his voice laced with defiance.
Michael stepped closer, his eyes burning with determination. “Oh, but I do. You see, I know about the fire you set to silence David Reynolds. Chuck wasn”t meant to die that night, but you made sure he did.” He held up a file. “I spent hours looking at the video taken by the news people, the witness statements. I put it all together.”
Lamply”s fa?ade crumbled, his shoulders slumping in defeat as the weight of his guilt bore down on him. “I had to do it,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I had to protect myself and my reputation.”
Michael shook his head in disgust, his fists clenched at his sides. “You let an innocent man die to save yourself. You”re nothing but a coward. Like everyone else on that council. A council who protected their crimes by hurting others.”
As Michael continued to record, he watched as Chief Lamply hung his head in shame, the truth of his actions finally catching up to him.
With the recording complete, Michael turned off the camera, knowing Liv would soon have the answers she needed. As he loaded his weapon, the perimeter alarm rang. He laughed. “A perfect end to you. The others went with a bullet. You will aptly go with a fire.” He slipped out the back door.