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“Until one day, Dad got a call. A couple of supposed vacationers came up to rent out Jubilee Farm for the season. Harmless guys posing as husbands. They wanted to sip tea on the porch while watching the sunset. Nothing to worry about, except the owners of one of the neighboring farms saw something strange.
“Men with tools cut through the forest bordering his land, heading for the farm. Obvious that they didn’t want to be noticed,” Cairo said. “So, he goes out to check what’s going on and they say they don’t know what he’s talking about. There are no men. No tools. No reason for him to interrupt their afternoon. As he’s leaving, he notices a mound of dirt under a tarp and a structure that wasn’t there before.
“A couple days later, Mark Jubilee’s daughter called asking the neighbor if he’s heard from her parents. She’s been calling for weeks and neither one called her back. He tells her they took off on vacation. She replied, no they didn’t.”
Goose bumps rippled down my flesh. I did not like where this story was going.
“The neighbor called the sheriff immediately. When she got word of what was going on, she ordered him to handle it off books. There was no doubt that those men knew, and they must’ve done something horrible to the Jubilees.”
Cairo’s eyes glazed. “I was thirteen. It was soon after the divorce, and I— I didn’t trust the guy by himself,” he said softly. “I didn’t know what he’d do. So, when he got a call in the middle of the night that made him slump against the wall, pleading with the person on the other end, I assumed it was Nora.
“Dad eventually got himself up and told me he was going out. He wouldn’t be long, and I was to finish my dinner and go to sleep. But I knew he was dragging himself back to Nora for another kicking. If that soulless woman got her hands on him again, destroyed any more of his dignity, my dad would swallow his gun. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“What did you do?”
“I climbed in the back of the truck when he wasn’t looking. Together we drove out to Jubilee Farm.”
My chest tightened. No, this story would not have a happy ending.
“I heard them arguing,” Cairo said. “Crashing, shouting, and then pleas for help. I didn’t think, Rain. I grabbed the spare shotgun my dad kept under the seat, and came in through the back door.
“The kitchen was a mess, but Dad had them both on their knees—gun trained on them. Man, they were bleating their innocence. One bawled his eyes out. The other spun a story of a shady guy that offered them fifty percent of their haul if they lured the Jubilees out and hid their excavating. They didn’t hurt anyone, and they promised to leave and never come back.”
I blew out a long breath. “Your father wanted to believe them. He couldn’t stomach executing two men in cold blood.”
“That’s why he lowered his gun, Rain. Told them to leave immediately and if they ever returned, it’d be a different story. He turned his back on them, and the bawler shot up, snatching a cleaver off the block. He swung for my dad’s head, and I fired. Two shots in the back without hesitation. His friend ran at me and I killed him too.”
Holding his hand, I dropped kisses on his knuckles, willing warmth into his body.
“Dad vomited. He screeched and bawled and hugged me so tight it hurt. He was a mess, so I took charge. Made him bury the bodies in that hole they were digging. Then we searched the house to find and remove any trace they were there. Dad found the Jubilees in the basement freezer.”
“Oh no. That poor family.” I stroked his cheek. “And my Cairo. You were only thirteen.”
“The old man said that a lot in the months following. ‘You’re only thirteen. This will mess you up for the rest of your life. Sorry. Forgive me. I’ll be a better father.’ On and on it went till he and the shrinks realized I was fine. Too fine.
“There wasn’t a change in my sleep or eating. I wasn’t pissing my bed or sobbing into my breakfast. And more than once, Dad would try to leave in the middle of the night and catch me sneaking in the truck bed to go with him.”
A mirthless smile stretched his lips. “Everyone asks what’s wrong with my eyes, Rain, and the answer was always simple. They scare people... because they’re empty. Like me, you look inside of them and can’t find warmth or love or happiness. You can’t find anything at all.”
“That’s not true—”
“That’s why I was the most logical person to take on the job,” he carried on like I hadn’t spoken. “Dad didn’t have the stomach for it. If he tried, it would’ve destroyed the little left of my father.”
