"I'm not sure that I'll ever be ready for it, Harry," Daniel admitted. "But it's time, don't you think?"
"Past time, I'd say. About twenty years past?"
Realization- and relief were equally mixed in Daniel's next words. "You know, don't you?" He knew- and he was still here. Because he wanted answers. And it was up to Daniel to give his son the answers to all of the questions he'd had for so many years.
"That you're my father? Yes."
"How did you find out?"
"I can put two and two together as well as anyone, Daniel." Hands in his pockets, Remington studied the pattern on the floor tiles before finally looking up at him. "All these years- and you never said a word. Not one, bloody word."
"How could I? It's only been since you met Laura that you've shown any real interest in finding your past. Before that-"
"I know," Remington sighed. "I remember as well as you do. It couldn't have been easy for you- hearing me talk about what I'd do to my father if I ever met him."
"Kept me up a few nights," Daniel admitted. "I'd lost you once, my boy. I couldn't risk it happening again."
"How- exactly- did you, uh- lose me, Daniel?"
"It wasn't, as you'd always told yourself, because I walked out and abandoned you and your mother," Daniel assured him. "That would never have happened, I promise you that."
"Then what did happen, Daniel?"
"A year before you were born, I was in London, running an ill advised con on a wealthy gentleman. It wasn't going well, and I was ready to back out and cut my losses- but there was a young Irish woman who worked for him. Meg," Daniel said with a deep, regretful sigh. "She was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me. Kind, gentle, she understood me better than I understood myself. I found myself telling her everything. About my childhood, my brother, why I was in London doing what I did for a living- everything. I dragged the con out far longer than I should have just to have the opportunity to keep seeing her."
"You got caught?"
"No. I was successful." Daniel watched his son as he said, "And I asked Meg to marry me."
Remington's surprise was evident. "You what?"
"That surprised you, didn't it?"
"I just never thought- I always assumed-"
"I know. And you have no idea how many times I wanted to dispel that particular belief. But I couldn't. Not and keep my secret."
"Something tells me that happily ever after didn't happen."
"No," Daniel said sadly. "I promised her that I'd quit the life, find a real job. The money I'd gotten from the con went too quickly. Seems I wasn't prepared for the realities of married life. A roof over our heads, food, day-to-day necessities. And I discovered that I wasn't trained to do anything else except con people out of the money. But I tried, Harry. I worked as a day labourer for several months, but we weren't getting anywhere. Meg was talking about going back to her job as a maid to help out- I didn't want that for her. So when an old friend told me about a bank job that couldn't fail, I jumped at the opportunity. I thought I'd get enough to make a fresh start outside of London, perhaps in Ireland. But things didn't go quite as planned."
"You got caught, didn't you?"
"Why do you think I've always tried to steer you clear of robbing banks, hmm? Last year when those lunatic miners forced us to help them pull off that robbery, it brought back some very bad memories for me, I can tell you. Especially when you volunteered to open that safe-"
"We'll discuss last year later. Right now, we're talking about thirty two years ago."
"Almost thirty four, actually," Daniel corrected him. "But you're right. I got caught, and found myself sentenced to prison for at least two years. I told Meg to go back to Ireland, that she was better off without me. She disagreed, but said she would go home until I was free again. Two months later, I got a letter from her. She was staying with her sister in Dublin, working as a maid in a hotel there- and she was going to have a baby." Daniel still recalled that fateful day. He'd seriously considered trying to find a way out of that hellhole, trying to find some way to get to Meg. "For the next six months, I kept waiting for another letter from her, but there was nothing. Not one blessed word. And all of the letters that I sent her were returned unopened. By the time I was released, I was desperate to find out what had happened, to get to Dublin and Meg. But when I finally got there, Meg seemed- different. She said that she regretted our hasty marriage, and that she never wanted to see me again. I almost believed it- until I asked about the baby and she was surprised that I knew about it- She admitted that she wasn't Meg at all, that Meg was dead. She'd died -giving birth to our son."
"Who was the woman, then?" Remington asked.
"Meg's twin sister. They were identical, just as Nate and I are. Meg had never mentioned that she was a twin- I suppose because of my issues with my twin. Maeve-"
"Maeve?" Remington repeated, surprised. "Not-" he pointed toward the door- "your brother's *wife*?"
"I'm afraid so."
"So, not only is my father a twin, but my *mother* was a twin as well?" Remington questioned.
"Frightening, isn't it?" Daniel replied.
Remington sat down in a chair beside the bed as he tried to take in everything Daniel was telling him. "Why did Maeve try to make you think that she was Meg?" he asked.
"Maeve didn't want me to find out that she'd put her sister's child into foster care," Daniel explained.
"She- what?"
"After Meg died, Maeve put her child up for adoption," Daniel repeated. "Harry, I'm sure that losing her sister put Maeve into a downward spiral. She was a single woman, who adored her twin. They had no one else- and Maeve felt incapable of taking care of you. She didn't know I was aware of your existence, and believe that she could make me leave and never know that Meg was dead. When I asked about you- she realized it wasn't going to work and admitted what she'd done. She was angry- at me, mostly, for costing her Meg's companionship. I was angry that she'd sent my son away. I spent the biggest part of a year trying to find you, but being an ex-con made the authorities reluctant to tell me very much." He sighed at the memory. "It didn't help my case that every baby boy I saw I started asking questions about whether or not he was adopted- or a foster child- the authorities finally- suggested, rather strongly, I might add, that I return to London," he explained ruefully. "So I had no choice but to go. Maeve told me earlier that she tried to find you after I left, but had no more luck than I did."
"Why? I mean, after sending me into that bloody hell hole, why suddenly change her mind?"
"Guilt, perhaps. A belated sense of family," Daniel surmised. "I've no idea. You'll have to ask her."
"At the moment, I don't feel very inclined to speak to the woman at all." Daniel sent him a concerned look. "I'll behave, Daniel," he promised. "What happened when you got back to London?"
"It wasn't something I'm proud of, but I spent most of my time in pubs and like places, scraping by on whatever I could. I'd given up. For more years than I care to remember, I lived in the shadows, doing things that I'm not proud having done now."
"What brought you out of it?" Remington asked.
"Strangely enough, my brother."
"Your-?"
"He'd come to London to find me, to tell me that our father was dead, and extend what he considered a generous offer to split the inheritance that the old man had left him. I'd rather not get into all of that, Harry, if you don't mind. Not right now. It's still- not quite settled."
"So Nathan pulled you out of the bottle- how did he meet Maeve?"
"I told him why I was in that bottle, about Meg, about you. About how Meg's sister had stolen you away because Meg died- just as my father had tried to shunt me away because of my mother's death-" he shook his head, reminding himself that he wasn't going there. "But all Nathan heard was that I'd left you- left my son somewhere in Dublin. That I'd abandoned you to your fate and come running to the bottle. He said I'd been a coward for trying to rob that bank and putting Meg into the position she wound up in, virtually alone, and that I'd been an even bigger coward for leaving Ireland as I had. He dared me to go ahead and kill myself, if that's what I was trying to do, but he wasn't going to stay around and watch. He left that day. You know how I relish a challenge, Harry. I cleaned up my act, more or less, to prove to *him* that I could do it. Even though he wasn't there. Apparently, he went to Ireland to try and find you himself. He met Maeve, and they married. Twenty five years later, we meet again- here- and he saved my life again."
"Brixton, Daniel," Remington said softly. "How did you know?"
"Don't ask. Because I can't answer. I just knew. One look at you-" He looked at Harry now and saw again the grimy, dirty, angry youngster he'd first met. "You have her eyes. And her smile. It was all I could to not to grab you up and never let you out of my sight again. But failing that, I did what I could. I'd dreamt of finding you for so many years. I certainly never expected to do it in Brixton, miles away from Dublin. I wanted to tell you, Harry, I really did. But-"
"Then tell me now- why let me go through all of that last year? And what about that bloody watch that Patrick O'Rourke sent me?"
Daniel drew a deep, painful breath. "Can we talk- later, Harry? I need to- rest for awhile." He winced at the pain in his chest.
Seeing it, Remington moved closer, taking Daniel's hand. "Okay. It's a start, eh?"
"It's a start," Daniel agreed, wincing again. "Could you find Carol? Or Nate?"
"I'll send them right in," Remington promised. Remington squeezed Daniel's hand, and then went out of the room. He wasn't surprised to find Carol sitting in a chair. "He's in some pain, Carol. Where's your father?"
"He and Miss Holt went out for a walk, I think."
"I'll go and get him, then."
"I'll go in and see if there's anything I can do for Daniel," Carol assured him. "Father likes to walk in the garden- the quickest way to reach it is through the door at the back of the entry hall."
"Thank you." He didn't wait for her to go into Daniel's room before heading down the hall toward the door she had told him about. His hand was on the polished doorknob when he heard Maeve's voice.
"How did it go, lad?" she asked.
Remington froze; not ready to face the woman who was his mother's sister- and who was responsible for all of the hell he'd gone through as a child. "Daniel needs Nathan -"
"Is he all right?" she asked, and even though he heard the concern in her voice, it didn't fully register as Remington turned to look at her.
"Do you really care, Maeve?" he asked. "Do you?"
Her eyes met his, and then fell away. "So. He's told you, then, about what I did all those years ago." Her tone was resigned, as if she had expected this reaction.
"Yes," Remington confirmed. "But I don't have time to discuss it with you. Right now, my father needs a doctor. If you'll excuse me-" he opened the door and went out, gulping down breaths of the cool, fresh air to try and dampen his temper. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forgive the woman for what she'd done to him- and to Daniel. The moon's bright light created dark shadows in an eerie landscape, seeming to reinforce his uncertainty about so many things in his life. He needed to find Nathan- and Laura.
The thought of being with her sent him down the path, toward the gardens at the back of the property. He walked several yards away from the house before he saw Laura and his uncle strolling across the lawn toward him, talking softly.
"Laura," he said, getting their attention even though he spoke softly. As he joined them, Laura slipped her arm through his.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"I think he tired himself out," Remington said. "He seemed to be in pain."
"Stubborn fool," Nathan sighed. "The man refuses to take his pain medication, then complains when he's in pain." He peered at Remington in the bright moonlight. "How are you?"
"I'll survive. Look, don't worry about me. Just take care of him, okay?"
Nathan hesitated. "Okay. Don't stay out too long, Maeve's probably got supper nearly ready. And she's a very good cook."
"Hmm," Remington said, nodding, trying not to tense up hearing the woman's name. He saw Laura glance at him, frowning.
Once they were alone, Laura asked, "What's wrong?"
"Wrong? Nothing."
"Remington- don't lie to me. Please. Haven't you had enough lies?"
"Lies. Dear God. I don't know how I'm going to sit across a table from that woman and not-"
"Who?"
"Maeve. My- aunt. My mother's twin sister who gave me up to foster care and created this entire bloody mess," he declared.
"Have you spoken to her? Let her try to explain her side of things?" Laura asked.
"Laura, I don't care what her reasons were, I don't know that I could ever forgive -"
"You once said that about your father, too, didn't you? Do you still feel that way?"
"No, of course not. I mean, we've still got some things to work out, but I know now that it wasn't his doing that he lost track of me. It was all *her* fault!" he said forcefully. He took several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. "Look, you go on inside and have supper. I need to walk this off before I have to face her again." He gave her light kiss on the lips, and then moved off down the path toward the garden.
"What am I supposed to tell everyone?" Laura called after him.
"I don't really care. Just tell them that I needed some time to sort out the things Daniel told me," he replied, continuing to walk, albeit backward. Then, lifting a hand, he turned around again and vanished into an inky shadow within the garden that Nathan called his private sanctuary.
Laura watched him go, and then turned back toward the house. Maeve was coming from the direction of Daniel's room when she opened the door, and their eyes met. For a moment, Laura saw something in those blue eyes that she couldn't identify, and it was quickly hidden by curiosity. "Where is Remington?" the woman asked.
"Walking," Laura answered. It seemed the simplest answer. "How is Daniel?"
"Nathan says he should be resting comfortably soon. Carol's going t'sit with him while we eat our supper." Maeve's gaze moved to the door. "He's angry with me, isn't he?"
"He doesn't understand, Maeve," Laura said quietly, placing her hand on her arm. "Once he does-"
"He'll never forgive me. And I can't say as I blame him. I don't know that I've forgiven myself for what I did to him. To the both of them."
***
At a house in one of London's more expensive areas, a nervous man stood before a large desk, turning his cap over and over as the man sitting behind that desk held a flame to the end of a cigar to light it. "Nothing like a good cigar, eh, Billy?" he asked another man who stood to his left.
"Not that I know of, Mr. Harmon," Billy agreed as he was expected to do.
Harmon's heavy lidded eyes surveyed the nervous man through the smoke of the cigar. "So, Mr. Crenshaw. Hank over there tells me that you have some news for me."
"Yes, yes, Mr. Harmon," Crenshaw said, eyeing Hank nervously. "I heard that you were offering money for information about the man who swindled you-?"
"*Tried* to swindle me," Harmon corrected him. "He didn't succeed. And yes, there's a reward for information as to his current whereabouts."
"Uh, yeah, well, I think I may know where he is," Crenshaw told him.
"Where?" Harmon asked, taking another puff from the cigar.
"There's a place outside of town- there's a doctor there, handles private cases. Rumor has it that he's got someone there who just wandered in a few days ago."
"Could be anyone," Harmon mused. "Doesn't mean its Chalmers."
"I saw Chalmers tonight," Crenshaw said.
"You're sure?" He pulled a photograph of Daniel Chalmers from a desk drawer and slid it across the top toward Crenshaw. "You saw this man?"
"It was dark," Crenshaw reminded him. "But I'd swear it was him. He and some bird were out walking about the grounds. He was wearing glasses, but- it was him."
Probably a disguise, Harmon thought. "What's the name of this doctor, Mr. Crenshaw?" Harmon asked, studying the photo.
"Martindale. Nathan Martindale."
"I want to thank you for your help, Mr. Crenshaw," Harmon said, flicking the ashes from the end of the cigar.
"Then, you'll pay me the money you promised?" Crenshaw asked in anticipation.
"Of course. Billy, give Mr. Crenshaw what he deserves."
Billy pulled his gun from the holster and fired one shot. Crenshaw crumpled like a rag doll.
Harmon glanced at Hank. "See that he's taken care of." He picked up the photograph of Chalmers. "Billy, I want you to find out everything you can about this Dr. Martindale. And quickly. Word's getting out that Chalmers is alive. People are starting to say that I'm weak. We can't have that, now, can we? And get someone out there to the Martindale house to keep an eye on things. We don't want Chalmers getting away again."
"Right on it, Mr. Harmon," Billy assured his boss, moving toward the door, opening it for Hank to remove Crenshaw's body before leaving himself.
Harmon's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're not getting away that easily, Chalmers. You'll pay," he promised. "Dearly. No one makes a fool out of Jason Harmon and lives to tell about it."