Shadow in Serenity

fifteen


The funeral home was crowded from the first moment of visitation. Flowers lined all four walls of the viewing room, where mourners clustered beside the coffin, paying their last respects to the barber who’d been such a vital part of the community. Logan felt a tinge of apprehension as he signed the guest book, and a great sadness fell over him as he noted how vastly different this was than it had been when Montague died.

He hadn’t bothered with visitation for Montague, since they’d been in the town solely to score, and the only “friends” they’d made were marks who had believed them to be government employees selling surplus real-estate holdings dirt cheap. Since Montague had never spoken of family back home in England, Logan had arranged a small, private funeral at which the only guests were Logan and the preacher he’d hired. He had taken the money they’d made thus far on that score — several thousand dollars — and bought the best coffin he could afford and a headstone with Montague’s final con — an epitaph that claimed he was “a pious man, beloved of all who knew him.”

But it wasn’t a con in Slade’s case, for everyone who came by to pay their respects to Slade’s daughter had tears in their eyes and stories to tell of special ways Slade had touched them. It was so sudden, they all said. So unexpected. He’d had so much living yet to do.

But no one felt that as vividly as Logan, as he waited for the small group at the coffin to break up. And when they did, there was Jack, curled up on the floor at the foot of the casket, looking as forlorn as an abandoned child.

Logan didn’t know where the tears came from, but he blinked them back as he looked down at Slade’s slumbering body. “You weren’t supposed to die, you old fool,” he whispered under his breath. He drew in a long, deep breath and turned away.

Carny stood behind him, looking up at him with uncertain eyes. “Carny.”

“I heard he was with you when he died,” she said, and though he expected it, he found no accusation in her voice.

“That’s right.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, and he wondered when she would ask how much he’d gotten from the man before he collapsed. If she knew he held a check for a hundred thousand dollars in his pocket right now, she’d probably break her neck getting to a phone to call the police.

He looked back at Slade’s body. “He was talking about retiring. Traveling. Doing all the things he’d never had time to do.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat.

Carny looked down at Slade’s body, her eyes filling with tears. “Serenity won’t be the same without him.” Then she looked up at Logan. “Are you all right?”

The question threw him, and for a moment, he searched the words for hidden meaning. Why wasn’t she condemning him, blaming him? “I … I’m fine.” He looked down at the dog, still lying there. “Look at Jack. He won’t leave Slade’s side.”

“It’s gonna be awfully hard for him,” Carny said.

Logan stooped next to the dog and scratched his ear. As he stroked Jack, Slade’s daughter Betsy left the cluster of people surrounding her and approached them. “We don’t know what we’re going to do with Jack,” she said, wiping her eyes. “He wouldn’t leave Daddy’s side all night. Mr. Nelson, the undertaker, said he had to lock him out of the building last night, but he slept right beside the door until he let him in this morning.”

The image of Jack refusing to leave Slade’s side touched Logan in a place that had been numb for as long as he could remember. “How do you explain death to a dog?” His eyes filled again, and he blinked back the sting of tears. “He’ll just keep expecting him to come back.”

Carny touched Betsy’s shoulder. “Are you all right? Have you slept any?”

“Some,” Betsy said. “It’s been a shock, but … we’ll make it. Mr. Brisco, I know he was with you when he died … I know you did everything you could …”

Logan looked at her. Where were these emotions coming from, the ones assaulting him from so many directions today? Coming to this town had been a mistake. A serious tactical error. Montague would have been long gone, and he’d have already cashed that hundred-thousand-dollar check.

But Logan wasn’t Montague. Maybe he was just weak.

“He … he came to me that day to talk about an investment, Betsy,” he said, and Carny’s head snapped up. “He had a dream of retiring and traveling and doing whatever he wanted, but he still wanted to leave an inheritance to you to put your kids through college, help you financially … he wanted to invest his retirement into the park, so he could make it grow enough to do both of those things.”

“He gave you money?” Carny asked.

“Yes,” Logan said. “He gave me everything he had. A hundred thousand dollars.”

Betsy gasped. Carny’s mouth dropped open, but it was Betsy who got out the words.

“I had no idea … that he had …”

“He’s been saving for years,” Logan said. “Your father might not have made a lot of money, but he saved it well.”

He could see the recriminations in Carny’s eyes, the murderous accusations, the I-told-you-so’s. But for now, she had too much decorum to vent those feelings in front of Slade’s body, his grieving daughter, and a room full of mourners.

Logan looked into the young woman’s eyes and realized he had two choices. He could keep the money and tell Betsy how much this investment was going to make for her and her family, or he could do the right thing, the thing Carny least expected. The thing he would never have expected of himself.

Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out the check, unfolded it, and handed it to Betsy. “I haven’t cashed the check yet, Betsy. And in light of what happened to Slade, I can’t do it in good conscience. This money should go to you.”

Bursting into tears, Betsy took the check in trembling hands. Reaching up to hug him, she whispered, “Thank you, Logan. You’re a good man.” Then she disappeared back into the other room, leaving him with Slade’s body, Jack, and Carny.

Carny looked speechless when he finally met her gaze. She’d clearly been ready to chew him out, and now she didn’t seem to know what to say.

“What did you think I would do?” he asked. “Skip town with his life savings?”

She drew in a deep breath. “I thought I had you all figured out,” she whispered.

“Yeah, well, life’s full of surprises.”

Unable to take another moment of her scrutiny, and unable to hold back his anger at himself, Logan made his way back through the crowd and left the funeral home. Instead of returning to the Welcome Inn, he just drove. What was happening to him? As he drove down the main street of town, mentally identifying every store by its owner, he found that he had warm feelings about each owner’s family and the employees who worked there. Some of them had given him money, and others were on the verge.

He was getting too soft. Giving back that check had been inexplicable. Montague would have washed his hands of Logan right then and there.

He reached the outskirts of town, where the land lay empty and abandoned — the area he’d claimed would be developed into the park. And as he aimlessly followed the roads around it, he asked himself why he had given that check back. Was it for his own conscience, a conscience that had never spoken up before, no matter how much money he took? Or was it to impress Carny? If so, it was just another hustle.

He drove for over an hour before he realized he had no direction. No attachment. No home. Was the life in hiding Montague had dreamed of really so great? Montague had never attained his dream. He’d died in a strange town, and even his headstone was a sham. He hadn’t been able to keep his fortune. What good had any of his clever schemes done him the day he dropped dead?

Logan wasn’t sure he wanted the same fate — to leave behind no legacy except that of being a fraud and a thief.

He didn’t like the fact that it disturbed him so deeply. Why now, when it never had before? Logan pulled his car to the side of the road, left it idling, and tried to think. Never before had he allowed himself regrets about the people he’d scammed. Never before had he given a thought to what they would think of him when he was gone.

But this time, he cared deeply.

Jerking the car into gear, he turned around and headed back to Serenity. But his self-disgust stayed with him like the stench of a skunk. He had to see this through, because it was too late to turn back. But when it was over, there would be little joy in his success.