Six Years
Page 70
A voice behind me said, “You couldn’t leave it alone.”
I spun around to see Jed pointing a gun at me.
“I didn’t do this,” I said.
“I know. He did it to himself.” Jed stared at me. “Cyanide.”
I remembered Benedict’s pillbox now. All the members of Fresh Start, he said, carried one.
“We told you to leave it alone.”
I shook my head, trying to keep it together, trying to tell the side of me that just wanted to collapse and grieve that there’d be time for that later. “This whole thing started before I got involved. I didn’t know a damn thing about any of this until I saw Todd Sanderson’s obituary.”
Jed suddenly looked exhausted. “It doesn’t matter. We asked you to stop in a million different ways. You wouldn’t. It doesn’t make a difference if you’re guilty or innocent. You know about us. We took an oath.”
“To kill me.”
“In this case, yes.” Jed looked again toward the bed. “If Malcolm was committed enough to do this to himself, shouldn’t I be committed enough to kill you?”
But he didn’t fire. Jed no longer relished shooting me. I could see that now. He had when he thought I’d been the one to kill Todd, but the idea of killing me just to keep me quiet was weighing on him. He looked back down at the body in the end.
“Malcolm loved you,” Jed said. “He loved you like a son. He wouldn’t want . . .” His voice just drifted off. The gun dropped to his side.
I took a tentative step toward him. “Jed?”
He turned to me.
“I think I know how Maxwell Minor’s men found Todd in the first place.”
“How?”
“I need to ask you something first,” I said. “Did Fresh Start begin with Todd Sanderson or Malcolm Hume or, well, you?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just . . . trust me for a second, okay?”
“Fresh Start began with Todd,” Jed said. “His father was accused of a heinous crime.”
“Pedophilia,” I said.
“Yes.”
“His father ended up killing himself over it,” I said.
“You can’t imagine what that did to Todd. I was his college roommate and best friend. I watched him fall apart. He railed against the unfairness of it all. If only his father could have moved away, we wondered. But of course, even if he had, that kind of accusation follows you. You can never escape it.”
“Except,” I said, “with a fresh start.”
“Exactly. We realized that there were people who needed to be rescued—and the only way to rescue them was to give them a new life. Professor Hume understood too. He had a person in his life that could have used a fresh start.”
I thought about that. I wondered whether that “person” could very well have been Professor Aaron Kleiner.
“So we joined up,” Jed continued. “We formed this group under the guise of a legitimate charity. My father was a federal marshal. He hid people in witness protection. I knew all the rules. I inherited that family farm from my grandfather. We made it into a retreat. We trained people how to act when they change identities. If you love gambling, for example, you don’t go to Vegas or the track. We worked with them psychologically so they realized that disappearing was a form of suicide and renewal—you kill one being to create another. We created flawless new identities. We used misinformation to lead their stalkers down the wrong path. We added distracting tattoos and disguises. In certain instances, Todd performed cosmetic surgery to change a subject’s appearance.”
“So then what?” I asked. “Where did you relocate the people you rescued?”
Jed smiled. “That’s the beauty. We didn’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You keep searching for Natalie, but you don’t listen. None of us knows where she is. That’s how it works. We couldn’t tell you even if we wanted to. We give them all the tools and at some point, we drop them off at a train station and have no idea where they end up. That’s part of how we keep it safe.”
I tried to push through what he was saying, the notion that there was absolutely no way I could find her, no way that we could ever be together. It was simply too crushing to think that all of this had been futile from the start.
“At some point,” I said, “Natalie came to you guys for help.”
Again Jed looked down at the bed. “She came to Malcolm.”
“How did she know him?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
But I did. Natalie’s mother had told her daughter about Archer Minor’s cheating scandal and how her father had been forced to vanish. She would have tried to track her father down, so naturally Malcolm Hume would be one of the first people she would visit. Malcolm would have befriended her, the daughter of the beloved colleague who had been forced to disappear. Had Malcolm helped her father run from Archer Minor’s family? I don’t know. I suspected that he probably did. Either way, Aaron Kleiner was Malcolm’s impetus for joining Fresh Start. His daughter would be someone he’d immediately care about and take under his wing.
“Natalie came to you guys because she witnessed a murder,” I said.
“Not just any murder. The murder of Archer Minor.”
I nodded. “So she witnesses the murder. She goes to Malcolm. Malcolm brings her to your retreat.”
“First he brought her here.”
Of course, I thought. The painting. This place inspired it.
Jed was smiling.
“What?”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“You were so close to Malcolm,” he said. “Like I said. He loved you like a son.”
“I’m not following.”
“Six years ago, when you needed help writing your dissertation, Malcolm Hume was the one who suggested the Vermont retreat to you, didn’t he?”
I felt a small coldness seep into my bones. “Yeah, so?”
“Fresh Start isn’t just the three of us, of course. We have a committed staff. You met Cookie and some of the others. There aren’t many, for obvious reasons. We have to trust each other completely. At one point, Malcolm thought that you’d be an asset to the organization.”
“Me?”
“That was why he suggested that you attend that retreat. He hoped to show you what Fresh Start was doing so that you’d join us.”
I spun around to see Jed pointing a gun at me.
“I didn’t do this,” I said.
“I know. He did it to himself.” Jed stared at me. “Cyanide.”
I remembered Benedict’s pillbox now. All the members of Fresh Start, he said, carried one.
“We told you to leave it alone.”
I shook my head, trying to keep it together, trying to tell the side of me that just wanted to collapse and grieve that there’d be time for that later. “This whole thing started before I got involved. I didn’t know a damn thing about any of this until I saw Todd Sanderson’s obituary.”
Jed suddenly looked exhausted. “It doesn’t matter. We asked you to stop in a million different ways. You wouldn’t. It doesn’t make a difference if you’re guilty or innocent. You know about us. We took an oath.”
“To kill me.”
“In this case, yes.” Jed looked again toward the bed. “If Malcolm was committed enough to do this to himself, shouldn’t I be committed enough to kill you?”
But he didn’t fire. Jed no longer relished shooting me. I could see that now. He had when he thought I’d been the one to kill Todd, but the idea of killing me just to keep me quiet was weighing on him. He looked back down at the body in the end.
“Malcolm loved you,” Jed said. “He loved you like a son. He wouldn’t want . . .” His voice just drifted off. The gun dropped to his side.
I took a tentative step toward him. “Jed?”
He turned to me.
“I think I know how Maxwell Minor’s men found Todd in the first place.”
“How?”
“I need to ask you something first,” I said. “Did Fresh Start begin with Todd Sanderson or Malcolm Hume or, well, you?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just . . . trust me for a second, okay?”
“Fresh Start began with Todd,” Jed said. “His father was accused of a heinous crime.”
“Pedophilia,” I said.
“Yes.”
“His father ended up killing himself over it,” I said.
“You can’t imagine what that did to Todd. I was his college roommate and best friend. I watched him fall apart. He railed against the unfairness of it all. If only his father could have moved away, we wondered. But of course, even if he had, that kind of accusation follows you. You can never escape it.”
“Except,” I said, “with a fresh start.”
“Exactly. We realized that there were people who needed to be rescued—and the only way to rescue them was to give them a new life. Professor Hume understood too. He had a person in his life that could have used a fresh start.”
I thought about that. I wondered whether that “person” could very well have been Professor Aaron Kleiner.
“So we joined up,” Jed continued. “We formed this group under the guise of a legitimate charity. My father was a federal marshal. He hid people in witness protection. I knew all the rules. I inherited that family farm from my grandfather. We made it into a retreat. We trained people how to act when they change identities. If you love gambling, for example, you don’t go to Vegas or the track. We worked with them psychologically so they realized that disappearing was a form of suicide and renewal—you kill one being to create another. We created flawless new identities. We used misinformation to lead their stalkers down the wrong path. We added distracting tattoos and disguises. In certain instances, Todd performed cosmetic surgery to change a subject’s appearance.”
“So then what?” I asked. “Where did you relocate the people you rescued?”
Jed smiled. “That’s the beauty. We didn’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You keep searching for Natalie, but you don’t listen. None of us knows where she is. That’s how it works. We couldn’t tell you even if we wanted to. We give them all the tools and at some point, we drop them off at a train station and have no idea where they end up. That’s part of how we keep it safe.”
I tried to push through what he was saying, the notion that there was absolutely no way I could find her, no way that we could ever be together. It was simply too crushing to think that all of this had been futile from the start.
“At some point,” I said, “Natalie came to you guys for help.”
Again Jed looked down at the bed. “She came to Malcolm.”
“How did she know him?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
But I did. Natalie’s mother had told her daughter about Archer Minor’s cheating scandal and how her father had been forced to vanish. She would have tried to track her father down, so naturally Malcolm Hume would be one of the first people she would visit. Malcolm would have befriended her, the daughter of the beloved colleague who had been forced to disappear. Had Malcolm helped her father run from Archer Minor’s family? I don’t know. I suspected that he probably did. Either way, Aaron Kleiner was Malcolm’s impetus for joining Fresh Start. His daughter would be someone he’d immediately care about and take under his wing.
“Natalie came to you guys because she witnessed a murder,” I said.
“Not just any murder. The murder of Archer Minor.”
I nodded. “So she witnesses the murder. She goes to Malcolm. Malcolm brings her to your retreat.”
“First he brought her here.”
Of course, I thought. The painting. This place inspired it.
Jed was smiling.
“What?”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“You were so close to Malcolm,” he said. “Like I said. He loved you like a son.”
“I’m not following.”
“Six years ago, when you needed help writing your dissertation, Malcolm Hume was the one who suggested the Vermont retreat to you, didn’t he?”
I felt a small coldness seep into my bones. “Yeah, so?”
“Fresh Start isn’t just the three of us, of course. We have a committed staff. You met Cookie and some of the others. There aren’t many, for obvious reasons. We have to trust each other completely. At one point, Malcolm thought that you’d be an asset to the organization.”
“Me?”
“That was why he suggested that you attend that retreat. He hoped to show you what Fresh Start was doing so that you’d join us.”
