Chasing Shadows Page 6
"I didn't mean to scare Grace. I didn't know who she was, not until this evening, but she took one look at me and, and," he couldn't finish, his words running into one another.
"Nate." Ms Riley spoke softly. "Grace fainted because of something that happened at school. An accident of some kind." He lifted his head to look her in the eye.
"She said that she hit her head on a locker door this afternoon, but didn't realize just how bad it actually was."
"But she fell, she looked at me and fainted."
"It was just really bad timing, I promise Nate. I would never lie to you." Nate felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"Can you tell me what happened with Grace? Why you thought she would be afraid of you?" Taking his time, he explained how he had mistaken Grace's intentions with her camera, how he hadn't listened to her and how he had walked away with her camera.
"My first day back and I have already messed up. I know Gramps thought I needed this, needed to come back to Silver Glade to somehow right the wrongs of the past, but I don't think I can do that." Nate felt a wave of grief hit, wishing he could talk with his grandfather. He felt tears fall and made no effort to hide them.
"Come into the lounge, there is something I think you need to see," Ms Riley helped him to his feet. Leaving him on the sofa while she opened an old writing desk, she sat beside him. She had a large envelope in her hands, which she then handed to Nate.
"Your grandfather asked me to keep this until I felt you needed to see it. I haven't read it, but I can guess some of what it says." She paused as if trying to find the right words.
"Your grandfather loved you so much Nate. He only ever wanted the best for you. He wanted to make sure that you had the right people in your life even if that meant you had to face the past." He gave her a small nod to show he had heard what she had said.
"I'm going to ring Jack, and get the guest room ready. You are going to stay here tonight. No arguments." Then she left the room leaving Nate alone.
The envelope seemed to burn in his hands. How he wanted to open it and read the words that his Gramps had written, wondering what might be revealed, but nervous that once the words were in the open they could never be unseen. With a sigh Nate broke the seal and took out some documents as well as a letter addressed to him, in his grandfather's neat handwriting.
"My dearest Nathaniel,
If you are reading this then I am no longer with you. I can only hope that you are not angry with me for what I have asked of you. I know that you never wanted to return to Silver Glade ever again. I have never forgotten the young, frightened boy who made his way to my home. The haunted look, that in spite of all my efforts you have never quite lost.
I am ever hopeful that Jack Riley will continue to help you heal. To put to rest the ghosts of the past. That Jack will be by your side as you face this next challenge. I regret that I can not be with you when you return to a place you have always wanted to forget.
I do not expect you to forgive those who have hurt you, for there should not be forgiveness for all they have done to you. I know that my daughter is incapable of making amends, or even acknowledging that she has done wrong. I know that I bear some responsibility for her faults, that I failed to see how my leniency with Amelia could lead her down a dangerous path. Never once did I think she was capable of the pain she would cause, even if she was not the one to hurt you physically.
I have done my best to prepare you for the life ahead of you. The responsibility of running the Henderson Foundation will fall on your shoulders, but I have left you with a board who will offer wise counsel, who will not be blinded by greed and who understand all that your grandmother and I hoped to achieve.
It is inevitable that Charles Sinclair will try to steal what is rightfully yours. He has already made attempts. You must always be on your guard, but I hope that all our lessons on strategy, psychology and so on will aid you when he makes his move.
You were done a great wrong by your mother, aided and abetted by certain people in Silver Glade.
In my attempts to free you from your past, I allowed their actions to go unpunished, and now the town has become corrupt. Newer generations of the founding families have forgotten that this town was always to offer sanctuary to anyone who needed it. Instead they have now made our town an unsafe place for those who live there. The shadow cast by their actions can no longer be allowed to continue to grow.
How I wish I had more time to prepare you for all that now lies ahead, but my illness is not to be stopped this time. I have left further letters with Ms Riley, who will decide when you need them most. She, like her son, is aware of what I have asked of you, and has promised to help in any way she can.
With endless respect and love,
Gramps"
Nate reread the letter three times, he was finally starting to understand his grandfather's reasoning for the codicil in his will. He just wasn't sure if Silver Glade could be saved. His mother was as much a lost cause now as she had been when he had first left the town. There was no doubt that his stepfather was already plotting and scheming. He heard Ms Riley walk back into the room.
"Come along now, time you were asleep," she didn't ask about the contents of the letter.
"How is Grace," he asked, gathering the papers and standing.
"Jack said that she was resting, and should be discharged tomorrow." Nate felt relief at hearing that.
"Now you need your rest, we can talk in the morning." Ms Riley showed him to the guest room, and it wasn't long until he was asleep, the day's events catching up with him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Early the next morning Nate left Ms Riley's house, having shared a quick breakfast with her. He knew that Grace would be staying there and even though Ms Riley had insisted that her granddaughter would understand the reasons why their first meeting had gone so badly, he felt that she should first have the chance to rest and recover some more following her visit to the hospital.
After collecting his truck from Jack's house he had made the drive to his family's property. The last place Nate wanted to be was back at the house where he had lived for most of his childhood. To call it a home would be a lie. Maybe when he was younger, when it just been just them, no gold diggers or con-men, it had been as close to as a home as his mother had been able to make it.
Now though it was little more than a prison. The people who lived there were no better than jailers, holding him hostage until they could get their ransom. The irony was, that as the official owner of the property, Nate could have had his mother, and her twisted husband evicted whenever he wanted to.
He could make life very uncomfortable for Charles Sinclair, but had so far resisted the urge to show his hand.
He knew that Charles still thought he would be able to find a loophole in his grandfather's will, or failing that could use Nate's mother as some kind of bargaining chip to get control of the extensive assets that had been left to Nate.
His stepfather had been playing a long game, starting from when he had first met Amelia Henderson and saw a weak woman who could be easily manipulated. How Nate wished the man had done some basic research into the source of the wealth he coveted.
It would have saved them all so much time and heartache, if Sinclair had known that Amelia would never have direct access to the majority of the family money. Maybe then he would have moved on to another target.
It wasn't as if his mom was poor, her monthly allowance was more than generous, even with her expensive tastes, the problem was that Sinclair wanted more. Wanted everything.
The Henderson Foundation, of which he was now the sole beneficiary, ensured that Nate, and those he chose to share the money with, would never want for anything ever again. He didn't want the money, didn't want to have to deal with those who would try to take it away from him; like his stepfather who was trying to prove that Nate was incapable of handling the responsibility.
Charles Sinclair
had made ill advised deals with people he should never even have met. The kind of people who never forget. People who were not known for their patience when it came to broken promises or unpaid debts. People who didn't care about how you repaid what was owed, just that your account was settled.
Sinclair was also doing his best to ruin his stepson's reputation in Silver Glade, and as Nate knew from the previous day, at least one of the town's law enforcement officers was in his stepfather's pocket, much like the high school principal.
"I see you've decided to grace us with your presence." As if summoned by Nate's negative thoughts, Charles Sinclair appeared, dressed as if he were a landowner from days past.
He knew little about clothes, but even he could tell that the outfit Charles wore was made to measure from some obnoxious bespoke tailor, and therefore ridiculously expensive.
From his research, he knew that Charles had not been raised surrounded by wealth. His family was not poor by any stretch of the imagination, but he definitely had ideas above his station, as Nate's grandmother would have said.
Sinclair might have been aiming for a classy ensemble but as far as Nate was concerned he looked like a cross between the man from Monopoly and the Fat Controller of Thomas the Tank Engine fame!
"Did you forget that you have a curfew?" Nate barely stopped a smirk crossing his face. Was his stepfather serious? A curfew? He was over eighteen, and had been legally emancipated since his thirteenth birthday.
"Was there something you wanted?" He wanted Charles to get straight to the point. He was tired and not in the mood to deal with his stepfather trying to score points.
"While you are living in my home I have every right to know where you are, especially as both Principal Carter and Officer Camden told me you had skipped school yesterday." This time the urge to laugh was almost too much to contain. Was his stepfather serious with this B.S.?
"For the last time Charles, I don't answer to you. Stay away from me. Keep your friends away from me."
"Is that a threat Nate? Because a judge might think it was. And I know a lot of judges." His stepfather it seemed, was still attempting to prove that he had the upper hand, and Nate was done with this particular conversation. He walked towards the front door, stopping when he found it locked. Trying his key he discovered that it didn't work.
"Oh did I forget to mention that I had all the locks changed? There are some dangerous people around lately, you can't be too careful about who you let in." Clearly Charles thought that he had somehow scored points against him.
"Our poor police department is lacking in sufficient funds, so there are usually delays in responding to call outs. It would be such a shame if anything happened to you here, and there was nobody around to help you."
"You've become predictable in your old age Charles," Nate replied, taking out his phone to send a message. It was the only way that he could distract himself from the clear threat that his stepfather had made. The words were also an unwelcome reminder of days gone by, when the help he badly needed, had never reached Nate.
"And yet you are the one who is locked out, not me. If you ever want to step inside again I shall expect certain things first." Charles practically cackled, thinking he had bested his stepson.
"You do know you sound like Dr. Evil right now don't you?" He read the reply to his text, then strolled back to his truck, taking comfort in the uncertainty that flashed across his stepfather's face. Whatever reaction Charles had been looking for, Nate had once again called his bluff.
"Just to clarify, you have changed all the locks to the house. You are refusing to allow me access to all my belongings inside, including medication and private documents?"
"You are banned from the house, from the property, from speaking to anyone who lives here. That includes your mother and any member of staff." Charles could not hide the glee in his voice.
"And if I want access to anything?" Again Nate spoke slowly.
"You will sign over full control of the Henderson Foundation to me. You will publicly apologize to me and your mother, for all the lies you have told. You will agree to in-house treatment at a facility of my choosing to deal with your anger issues. Issues which you will also admit to in public, for all of Silver Glade to hear."
"Are you going to set up the P.A system for me or will that task fall to one of the goon squad?" His stepfather's face showed his anger at Nate's flippant comment, but really with no one to witness this altercation, that Charles knew of, what was the man hoping to achieve?
"Wow that's some wish list Charles. Never going to happen, but it's always nice to have confirmation of what you are looking for." He jumped into the cab of his truck, started the engine, before calling out to his stepfather who had begun walking towards the house.
"By the way Charles, you need to be more careful, you never really know who might be watching." He enjoyed the worried look his words caused, the older man unsure exactly what had just happened. Charles Sinclair was a foolish man, who was making careless mistakes. Mistakes that Nate would take great happiness in holding against him.
As he drove out of Silver Glade, taking a lesser known road towards the forest, he was glad that he had taken the time to consider just what Charles might do to try and keep him in line. It was somewhat comforting that at least the first few games Charles decided to play were not all that surprising. Continuing to ruin his reputation – check. Kicking Nate out of the house, another check.
Unfortunately for his stepfather, he didn't know that Nate had spent years reading book after book on war strategy. He had learned the mistakes made by other men who thought they could cheat the system, only to be taken down by a simple error. He had also learned not to underestimate an enemy, especially those like his stepfather who would act rashly when they felt under pressure.
When he had shown an aptitude for coding and hacking, his grandfather had encouraged his skill and curiosity, hiring the best tutors available. One tutor had specialized in making tiny but powerful cameras that could be worn or hidden to record easily. Two of his cameras were currently located in Nate's truck, he had a few lapel pin cameras and others were hidden strategically around the house he had just left.
He had been shown how to use scanners to pick up on hidden cameras, how to block signals; modern warfare as his Gramps would say. When Nate had been forced to move back to Silver Glade, he had used all his skills to find the various cameras and listening devices that had been concealed, no doubt by Charles.
He had then used that information to lay a trap, and by the way his stepfather had acted that afternoon, not to mention the notifications that were flooding his phone, the game was on.
He turned off the road, driving up what could best be called a dirt track. Only those who knew it was there would ever find it; hence it's appeal. The track was not paved, and demanded a driver's full attention.
At another point equally as difficult to find, another track emerged, the trees becoming more dense, until they suddenly opened up to show the house they guarded. A simple three bed wooden cabin sat on a plot of land that also housed a large work shed. This was Nate's true home.
It had been built by a team who had worked for his grandfather for years. None of the construction crew were from the local area, they had lived on site while the work was undertaken, and per their contracts, they'd had no contact with anyone from Silver Glade.
The cabin, once finished, as well as the land on which it sat, was registered to a shell corporation, so that if anyone checked, it had no connection with the Henderson Foundation.
Unknown to the general population of Silver Glade, Nate had returned a month earlier than planned, setting up at the cabin and preparing for the first meeting with his mother and stepfather; for what they believed to be the official reading of his grandfather's will.
For the year prior to his death, Gramps had been sharing random pieces of information with him, such as the construction of the log cabin. Even when Nate ha
d told him that it was unlikely that he would ever return to his home town, his grandfather had just replied that you never knew what would happen; when he might need a safe place to rest his head.
He had never, not once, ever imagined the contents of his grandfather's will. At first he had been overwhelmed by being named as sole heir; with all that it implied; he was simply stunned by the codicil.
It was obvious that Gramps had been planning for some time, and although angry at being forced to return to Silver Glade, he couldn't deny that the house was just what he needed.
Nate used one of the bedrooms as a study. As well as all his computer and security equipment, the room was where he kept the sophisticated safe his grandfather had gifted him. There were a few papers that he kept close, the majority were in another location, away from prying eyes.
Making sure that the door was locked behind him, he grabbed a cold drink from the fridge. He then made his way to check on some of the monitors. He couldn't help laughing when he saw his stepfather tearing apart the room that he had been staying in.
Nate had purposely made a point to discuss where he should keep his "important documents" when on a call to Jack. Then he had "hidden" them in full view of the camera that had been placed in the library.
He still couldn't believe that Charles had actually fallen for that particular trick. To an uneducated eye, the papers would look important, and then to someone with a legal background they might appear to be genuine documents.
The truth was they were all fabricated, all forgeries, and not legally binding. Still by the time that was discovered, Charles would have nothing to show for all his spying except for some heavy duty legal bills; that was assuming his stepfather actually paid his lawyer, which knowing the man was actually unlikely. He hoped that with Charles focused on the papers, his stepfather would now be less inclined to waste time annoying Nate with petty little fights.