“That’s right, until she got pregnant with me.”
Sandra glanced at Donny, who caught her eye. “Do you know who your father is?”
“Yes, but only recently. My aunt left me a letter for after she died.”
“Was your father Timothy Hanson, Ryan?” She treaded carefully.
“Yes.”
“Did he ever help your mother out, Ryan? Try to be a part of her life? Yours?” Sandra surmised the answers but wanted to hear them directly from Ryan. It was best guess until he confirmed things.
“He was never around. Even after his death, I was left nothing!” Ryan roared. “He couldn’t spare my mother a fucking penny to help her.”
His words paved the way for where Sandra wanted to go next. “Not even a penny, eh?”
“No. She was working all the time. I remember that even at five years old. I had crappy babysitters who chatted on the phone with their boyfriends and couldn’t be bothered spending time with me. He could have just handed her some money. He wouldn’t have even missed it. He had so much of it!” Ryan’s voice rose another octave. “You should see this place in here. It’s a castle. But it’s all built on lies. Lies, lies,” he repeated as if falling into a chant.
“Was your mother looking for financial aid close to her death?” Sandra felt like she was tiptoeing through a minefield. Mary Ellison might have remembered wrong. Sandra was fishing for confirmation.
“My aunt told me everything that matters.”
“Will you tell me?”
“No.”
“If you told me, the truth would be out.”
“No, that’s not how this works. As I told you before, you need to find it out for yourselves. That way there will be no disputing the truth when it comes out. You must think I’m some crazy lunatic, and maybe I am, but…”
“No one is saying that.”
“Huh. I feel like one to be honest. But let’s get this straight, Special Agent Vos, I almost died in that crash. I should have been dead years ago, so trust me when I say I have nothing to lose.”
The call was cut off.
This isn’t good at all…
SEVENTEEN
1:45 PM
Ryan had slammed the receiver down so hard, he could still feel the pulse in his palm from the impact. He was tempted to hurl the phone at the wall and smash it into pieces. But instead, he stood there, collecting his breath, trying to calm himself. He heard his mother’s voice from beyond the grave talking to him. “You are my brave boy.” Had that ever happened in real life? He couldn’t be sure, but he wanted to believe that it had. Just as he wanted to accept the vague memories of her putting him to bed every night. How she’d tap a kiss to his forehead before leaving his room.You’re a fool to accept this… It’s all fantasy. You’re nothing but a coward. Otherwise you would have killed everyone in this room.The voice challenged him. It was tempting to give in, to prove himself. But these Hansons, born with a silver spoon to their mouths, would suffer more if they were forced to live with their shame.Chicken! You’re pathetic.
“You can’t seriously be claiming you’re my brother?” Edward’s voice cut through, working in chorus with his inner critic.
Just shut up!He squeezed out both voices, remembering he was the one in charge here. The sooner the people in this room acknowledged that, the better it would be for them.
Ryan eyed the bar cart across the room again and went over. He poured out a few fingers’ worth of the amber liquid from a crystal decanter into a rocks glass. It was probably crystal too. He swung it back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he threw the glass against the wall, watching it rain down in tiny shards.
The teenager was crying loudly, and the boy was still wheezing. At least the kid was still drawing air.
“Hello? Did you hear me?” Edward waved a hand in the air. “There’s no way you’re my brother. You’re insane to think anyone would believe that.”
“Edward,” his wife cautioned.
“No, no, it’s all right. Edward here is as delusional as the rest of you. All of you sit up here in your gilded cage, looking down on everyone else. But worse than that you put on the show of being beyond reproach, role models the world should emulate. Well, I call bullshit on that!” Ryan walked over and put the gun on the back of Edward’s head. He flicked the letter from his aunt on the man’s lap. “Read it all the way through.”
Ryan caught a silent exchange, a furtive glance, between Edward and his wife. But it had Edward lifting the letter.
