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“Bribery—and violence,” Martha whispered. “Members of the town council offered bribes to town officials and police to turn a blind eye to their illegal activities. Paying off inspectors to overlook safety violations in businesses owned by council members or their associates. Vote manipulation during elections to ensure their continued control over the town. Voter intimidation, ballot tampering, and even falsifying election results to secure their positions of power.
“Extortion to intimidate those who opposed their agenda. They would threaten business owners with closure or residents with eviction if they spoke out against council decisions. In some cases, the council resorted to violence to maintain their grip on power. Council members received kickbacks and payoffs from contractors and developers in exchange for lucrative contracts and favorable zoning decisions.” She looked distraught.
He tilted his head and looked at the ceiling. “And did you know about any of this as it was happening?” Jackson’s voice rose. Olivia slipped her hand in his.
“Your father tried to protect us from it all. He didn't want me to worry. But I could see it in his eyes, Jackson. The stress, the frustration... It weighed heavily on him.
“You were just over twenty when he died. You were young, and he wanted you to enjoy your life. Get through school. Have fun. You were away at college. I think he would have shared things with you if he hadn’t died.”
Jackson shook his head. “I understand. But I can't help wondering...what if things had been different? What if Dad had been able to expose them for who they really were?”
“We'll never know. But what's important now is that we honor your father's and Chuck Everhart’s memory by standing up for what's right. Just like they would have wanted. I think whoever set fire to the garage and the library meant to stop you and Olivia from pursuing the truth.”
“Was that why Dad and Livvy’s dad didn't run for reelection? Because of what was going on with the council?
Martha looked thoughtful. “Well, that was part of it, but your fathers wanted to be more present in your lives, especially as you were growing up. They didn't want to miss out on those precious moments.”
Jackson nodded.
Liv interjected, “Martha, do you remember anything unusual happening around twenty years ago? Before the fire that took both our fathers?”
In the dimly lit kitchen of Jackson's childhood home, tension hung thick in the air. Outside, the soft patter of rain against the windowpane mirrored the heaviness on their hearts.
Jackson's mother, her expression grave, broke the uneasy silence. “I think your father and Chuck found definitive evidence.”
Jackson exchanged a worried glance with Olivia. “What do you mean, Mom?”
His mother took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to reveal. “The group that's always been reelected—your dad and Chuck found proof of a murder they orchestrated. But they needed to follow the money trail to seal the deal. They planned on going to the State Highway Patrol.”
Jackson's eyes widened. “But that's?—”
Before he could finish his sentence, his mother continued, her tone grim. “Your father, he'd decided to run for reelection,” she revealed, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. “Chuck was helping him run, but, officially, your dad was on the ballot. Running gave your father access to the books and, more importantly, the offices.”
Her voice was grave. “Together, Chuck and your father had been back-tracing expenditures, trying to uncover the truth.”
Olivia teared up. “That would be a huge threat. Jackson, can you get the report on that fire?”
“I have it in my office at the station.” Jackson’s despair matched Olivia’s, but he was determined to get to the bottom of this. “Mom, do you think it was enough to bury them?”
Martha looked as if she were slapped. “You think Dad and Chuck were murdered?”
“It’s time we uncover the truth, Mom. For Dad's sake, and for Liv's dad too,” Jackson spat.
Martha placed a hand over Jackson's. “Be careful, both of you. Some truths are better left buried.”
Olivia nodded. “We'll tread carefully, Martha. But I think it's time we find out what really happened all those years ago. And if it has anything to do what’s happening now.”
The pair headed upstairs to gather their stuff. Jackson's frustration simmered beneath the surface as his mother’s evasiveness grated on his nerves. He halted in his tracks, his anger bubbling up, ready to boil over. Every answer from her was like pulling teeth, leaving him feeling more frustrated and powerless with each passing moment.
Liv stopped walking and turned to face him. As she reached up, cupping his stubbled face in her hands, Jackson's anger faltered, giving way to a rush of conflicting emotions. He saw the strength in her eyes.
For a moment, they stood there in silence, then, with a gentle touch, Liv's fingers traced the line of his jaw, her touch both tender and reassuring. “She's afraid,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “And, more importantly, she's afraid for you.”
Fifteen
As Jackson and Olivia pulled up to her childhood home, Charlotte welcomed them with open arms. In the living room, surrounded by the comforting scent of vanilla candles and the flickering light of a fireplace, Liv took a deep breath. The room suddenly seemed to hold secrets long buried. With a determined gaze, she turned to her mother and broached a subject that had hung in the shadows of her family history.
“Mom,” Liv began, “I need to know more about the Waverly family, about the time of Chris and Rainey's deaths.” As she looked at Jackson, her gaze carried a mixture of pain and yearning for truth.
