Silas Kane

Chapter 17:

The basement smelled like old paper and coffee.

The man's name was Solomon. He didn't give a last name and I didn't ask. He sat down across from me at a folding table covered in files and took his glasses off and cleaned them on his shirt.

"Okay," he said. "First thing. You're not gonna cry."

I blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not gonna cry. Not in here. You can cry in the car. You can cry at home. You can cry in the shower. But not in here. Because the second you cry I start feeling sorry for you and I stop thinking straight. And I need to think straight right now."

I looked at Kael. Kael was standing by the door with his arms crossed.

"He's not a people person," Kael said.

"I'm not a people person," Solomon said. "I'm a paper person. Paper doesn't cry. Paper tells the truth." He put his glasses back on. "Now. Start at the beginning. And when I say the beginning I mean the actual beginning. Not the part where you ran. The part before."

I started at the beginning.

I told him about my father. The quiet man. The heart attack when I was twelve. The funeral with the box in the ground.

I told him about my mother. The note. The hundred dollars. The aunt who didn't want me.

I told him about Damon. The way he was sweet at first. The way he got quiet. The way quiet turned into something else. The lamp. The blood on the kitchen floor.

I told him about Lily. The running. The three rules. The diner. The bar.

Solomon didn't interrupt. He just wrote things down. Fast. Neat. His pen moved the whole time.

When I was done he sat back.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay?"

"Your father's not dead."

"I know."

"No. I mean your father's not dead. The man in the box was not your father. The man at the funeral was not your father. Your father is alive."

I stared at him.

"That's not what Sierra said. Sierra said my father was a good man who died when I was twelve and the man at the funeral was—"

"Sierra's wrong." Solomon pulled a file out of the stack. "Or she's lying. Or she doesn't know. I don't care which one. What I care about is this."

He opened the file.

"This is a copy of a death certificate filed in this county eighteen years ago. Name: Thomas James Donnelly. Cause of death: myocardial infarction. Age: forty-two. Survived by wife Colleen and daughter Ella Rae."

He turned it around.

"This is a real death certificate. I checked. It's filed with the county. It's in the system."

"So?"

"So look at the signature at the bottom. The medical examiner."

I looked.

The signature was a scrawl. I couldn't read it.

"Who is it?"

"Man named Harold Pike. Retired now. But eighteen years ago Harold Pike was the county medical examiner and Harold Pike had a gambling problem." Solomon pulled out another sheet. "Harold Pike declared bankruptcy four years after your father's death. He owed eighty thousand dollars to a casino in Atlantic City. He paid it off in one lump sum. Cash."

The basement went quiet.

"Who paid it?" Kael said.

"A company called Kane Holdings."

I sat back.

"Silas Kane."

"Silas Kane." Solomon closed the file. "Silas Kane paid off a medical examiner eighty thousand dollars to sign a death certificate for a man who wasn't dead."

"But the box," I said. "There was a body. My mother cried. I saw the box go into the ground."

"Caskets can be empty. Funerals can be staged. A twelve-year-old girl can be told anything." Solomon looked at me. "I've been digging into Kane for six years. I've pulled tax records. Property records. Court filings. I've got a list of sixteen people he's paid off. Harold Pike is number eleven."

"Six years," Kael said. "You've been on him for six years."

"I've been on him for six years because he ruined my brother's life. My brother had a construction company. Kane wanted it. My brother said no. Kane got a lawyer and a permit and a contractor and my brother lost everything." Solomon's jaw tightened. "My brother hanged himself in his garage two years later."

The room was very quiet.

"So this is personal," I said.

"It's personal," Solomon said. "But it's also the only way I can help you. Because I know where he's weak."

"Where?"

Solomon pulled out a sheet of paper. Set it in front of me.

"His daughter."

I looked at the paper.

It was a birth certificate. Name: Ella Rae Donnelly. Father: Thomas James Donnelly. Mother: Colleen Anne Donnelly.

"Ella," Solomon said. "You are not Silas Kane's daughter."

I sat back.

"What?"

"Your father was Thomas Donnelly. A good man. A quiet man. A man who worked at a hardware store and went to church on Sundays and never did anything wrong in his life. He died when you were twelve. The man in the box was your father."

"Then why did Silas Kane—"

"Because Silas Kane is not your father. He's your father's brother."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"Silas Kane was born Silas Donnelly. He changed his name when he was twenty-two. He's your father's younger brother. Your uncle."

Kael made a sound behind me.

"Wait," I said. "Wait. That doesn't make sense. If he's my uncle, why did he fake my father's death? Why did he pay my mother to leave me? Why has he been watching me for twelve years?"

"Because he wanted your father's land."

"Land?"

Solomon pulled out another sheet.

"Your father owned property. A lot of it. Twenty-two acres on the east end. He bought it when you were born. He put it in a trust. In your name. He left it to you when he died."

I stared at him.

"Twenty-two acres."

"Twenty-two acres. On the east end. Where your mother's house is. Where Silas Kane has been buying property for six months. Where he wants to build his new headquarters."

I put my hand on the table.

"He wants my land."

"He wants your land."

"But my mother sold it. She bought a house. She—"

"She bought a house on Tuller Street. Which is the house on the twenty-two acres. Which was in a trust that you were the beneficiary of. Which your mother had no legal right to sell."

I looked at Kael.

He was staring at Solomon.

"Say that again," he said.

"Colleen Donnelly didn't sell the property. She couldn't. It wasn't hers. She signed paperwork she didn't read and she got a house and a garden and a big tree in the backyard and for eight years she lived there and didn't know she was living on her daughter's land."

Solomon turned back to me.

"Three weeks ago Silas Kane showed up at her door. He told her the house wasn't hers. He told her she had to leave. And she called me."

"You?" Kael said.

"She called me because she didn't know who else to call. She'd been living on that land for eight years and she didn't know her own daughter owned it and she didn't know what to do." Solomon looked at me. "She's not a bad woman, Ella. She's just weak. There's a difference."

I sat there.

"What does he want?" I said.

"Silas Kane wants the land. He wants the twenty-two acres. He wants to build his headquarters on the east end and he wants to be the man who controls the east side. But to do that he needs your land. And to get your land he needs you out of the picture."

"How?"

"Two ways. One, he gets you declared unfit and takes Lily. If you're unfit, you can't manage a trust. He petitions the court and gets himself appointed trustee. Two—"

"He kills me," I said.

Solomon was quiet for a second.

"Or he makes you disappear," he said. "Same thing. Different paperwork."

---

We sat there for a while.

I couldn't talk. My brain was going in circles. My father. My uncle. Twenty-two acres. My mother living on my land for eight years. A fake death and a fake funeral and a fake box in the ground.

"I need a minute," I said.

Solomon nodded. Got up. Walked to the stairs.

Kael sat down next to me.

"Ella," he said.

"Don't."

"Okay."

"Don't say okay."

"Okay."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It came out broken and ugly and I put my face in my hands and my shoulders started shaking and I was crying.

Kael didn't say anything.

He just put his arm around me and pulled me into his side and held me there while I cried.

---

It took a long time.

When I was done I wiped my face with my sleeve. Kael didn't let go. His arm was heavy and warm and I didn't want it to stop.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't."

"I got your shirt wet."

"It's a shirt."

"It's a nice shirt."

"Ella."

I looked up at him.

"What do we do now?" I said.

Kael looked at me.

"We take the land back," he said.

"Can we?"

"Solomon thinks we can. There's a trust. There's a will. There's paperwork. If we can prove Silas Kane paid off a medical examiner to fake your father's death, we can void the probate. We can get the land back in your name. And then—"

"And then what?"

"And then we fight him in court. We fight him in the county. We fight him on every front he opens." Kael's jaw moved. "But first we need to get ahead of the paperwork."

"What paperwork?"

Kael looked at me.

"He said he was going to file a welfare complaint. That was hours ago. He's already filed. He's already got a judge. He's already got a hearing scheduled."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

I stood up.

"Tomorrow?"

"Nine AM. County courthouse. Emergency hearing."

"Kael, that's—"

"Twelve hours." He stood up. "Twelve hours to get ready."

"What do we do?"

Kael looked at me.

"We call Solomon. We get your mother. We get Lily. And we go to the courthouse in the morning and we tell them the truth."

"The truth."

"The truth about Silas Kane. The truth about the land. The truth about your father. All of it." He reached out and pushed a piece of hair off my face. "And we don't cry. Not in there."

I looked up at him.

"I'm not gonna cry," I said.

"Good."

"I'm gonna do something else."

"What?"

I walked to the stairs.

"Call Solomon," I said. "I've got a plan."

Chapter 17 Ends.