The Border: The Complete Series (46 page)

***

“Well when
are
you coming back?”

“I don't know. I just called to -”

“This is ridiculous, Ben. You said you were just going to see your family for Christmas, but now -”

“I might not be coming back at all,” he added, interrupting her. Sighing, he closed his eyes, trying to quieten the sense of chaos that was threatening to shake his skull apart. For a moment, just a few seconds, he felt as if he might have hit a wall, as if after years of ducking and weaving he'd finally got to a point where his only option was collapse. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and realized that the sensation had passed. He'd get through this. He always got through things. He was a survivor.

“Ben...” Paula said on the other end of the line, her tone having become much softer, more worried now that she was fully awake. “Listen to me -”

“I have to do something,” he replied, interrupting her again. “It's not that I don't want to come back and see you soon, it's that I might not be able to.” He turned and leaned against the wall, watching as the life of the town continued all around. People were hurrying in and out of stores, scooping up last-minute Christmas gifts. “I always told you that things could get complicated around me.”

“You did, but... What does that mean, Ben?”

“I can't keep coming back to Bowley and then running again,” he told her. “I have to do something about all of this, or I'm not better than the rest of them. Better men than me have ignored this thing for too long. That's the thing, I always thought the better men would step up and sort it out, but they didn't. I think maybe they're leaving it to scum like me.”

“But you might be home in a week or two, right?”

“I don't know.”

“But you might?” She waited for an answer. “Please, tell me you might.”

“I might.”

“And nothing's happened, has it?” She waited again. “You sound different, like maybe... Are you upset, Ben? Have you been crying?”

“Me?” He tried to laugh, but he immediately knew that the effort sounded hopelessly false. “Crying? No, I haven't been crying. When was the last time you saw me crying?”

“You know,” she continued, “I
could
come to Bowley and -”

“No.”

“But if it'd -”

“No!” he said firmly. “You're not to set foot in this place, do you understand? I swear, if -” Stopping suddenly, he became aware of a man who was loitering nearby, ostensibly emptying his coat pockets into a trashcan next to the bench. Eying the man with suspicion, Ben couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps it was someone from the Border, someone who'd been sent to keep track of him. He waited a couple of seconds, before the man turned and walked away, heading toward the hardware store.

“Ben?” Paula said. “What's so bad about me coming to see you? Are you ashamed of me and -”

“No,” he said, interrupting her again, “I'm not ashamed of anything. Last night, my...” His voice trailed off, and he realized that if he told her about Jack's death, he wouldn't be able to keep her away. She was that kind of person. “Look, I
will
be home, you know I will. Next week, maybe the week after, I'm just being melodramatic. I'll be home as soon as possible, and then we'll have a fake Christmas to replace this one, and everything'll be okay. And then it's your birthday on Valentine's Day, right? We'll really go crazy this year.”

“You're just saying that to keep me from showing up in Bowley.”

“I'm not, I swear.”

She paused. “Look after yourself, Ben. You sound ragged. And call more often. It'd be nice to hear from you at least every other day, if not more. And try to -” Stopping suddenly, she sighed. “Jesus Christ, do you hear me? I sound like some nagging, housebound...” Now it was her turn to fall silent, and a moment later she could be heard swallowing hard on the other end of the line. “Okay,” she continued finally, “I am
not
going to nag you or complain about you not being here, that's not the kind of person I am. Just promise you'll try to get home as soon as you can.”

“I'll try.”

“And call me occasionally. Humor me. Just so I know you're okay.”

“I'll try.” Looking down at the grass, he began to imagine the Border down there, most likely still active even in the middle of the day. “I've got to go,” he added, getting to his feet. “I have things to do.”

“You
have
to call me tomorrow,” she continued. “It's Christmas.”

“Sure. And Paula... I love you.”

He waited.

Silence.

“Paula? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you,” she replied, her voice sounding even more strained and worried than before. “I just know you never say that unless you're really scared.”

He stood in silence, not knowing what to say. He could hear her on the other end of the line, waiting for him to speak, but he desperately wanted her to just hang up. After a couple of minutes like that, he realized he couldn't say the one thing that mattered, so finally he just cut the call.

Finally the house had fallen silent, after hours and hours of tears.

“She's sleeping,” Audrey said as she pulled the door shut, letting it bump gently against the frame. “The kids are in with her, they're all...” She paused, her eyes filled with tears. “They're all exhausted. Still, I don't suppose they'll sleep for long.”

“You need to sleep too,” Ben replied, leading her through to the dark kitchen. He flicked on one of the lights before heading to the counter and hitting a switch on the side of the coffee machine. “We all need to sleep.”

He grabbed two mugs, before turning and seeing that his mother was standing in the doorway, as if she had no idea what to do next.

“Sit down,” he told her.

“But -”

“Just sit down.”

After pausing for a moment, she made her way to the breakfast bar and sat on one of the stools.

“Where's Beth?” he asked as he looked through the cupboard, trying to find a pot of instant coffee.

“She went home to pick up some things. She'll be back soon. She's not holding up well, but...” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “Why would someone do this? Who would anyone ever want to kill Jack?” She paused. “It was always girls who died. They never killed a man until now. Not in Bowley.”

Setting some mugs down, Ben paused for a moment. Part of him felt it had just been a turn of phrase, something to ignore, but at the same time he couldn't quite let it go. “They?” he asked finally.

He waited.

Silence.

Turning to her, he saw that she was staring at the dark window. Again, he told himself he was reading too much into his mother's words, but after a moment he realized there was a hint of darkness in her eyes.

“You know, don't you?” he said finally.

Again, he waited.

“You know about the Border.” He took a step toward her. “
You
, of all people, know about that place. How?” He paused. “Please, tell me you weren't one of those girls who -”

“Of course not!” she hissed, as if the idea revolted her. “Don't even suggest such a thing! The girls who work in that place are harlots and...” She sighed, clearly shocked. “No right-thinking, decent person would ever go to work down there.”

“Then how do you know about it, Mom?”

“Oh...” She sighed. “I'm not a fool, Ben. I see things, I hear things. Anyone in this rotten little town would know about it if they just kept their eyes open and thought about all the discrepancies. It's ludicrous to think that something like the Border could stay hidden without the complicity of everyone in Bowley. I've never been there, of course. I've never really seen what happens, but I know enough. I've heard plenty over the years, and my imagination has filled in the rest, thank you very much.” She paused, with fear in her eyes. “I know you know too. I know you worked down there for a short while, just general dogsbody work.”

He waited for her to continue. “What else do you know?”

“Ben -”

“What else do you know?” he asked again, more firmly this time.

“I know that...” She took a deep breath, as if maybe she was close to tears. “I know... I know the basics. I know Garland Packer -”

“What do you know about Garland Packer?” he snapped.

“Never mind.”

He watched her for a moment, before stepping closer. “What do you know about Garland Packer?” he asked again.

“Don't push me, Ben.”

“Do you know how he died?”

She froze.

“How did he die?” he asked.

“Some passing vagrant -”

“How did he die, Mom?”

“Alex said -”

“How did he die?” he shouted, taking a step toward her, causing her to flinch slightly. “Don't spew out that garbage about passing vagrants that Alex comes out with every time he needs to explain his own incompetence! Tell me how Garland Packer died!”

He waited, his face flushed with anger.

“Well, you killed him, didn't you?” she said finally, with a sigh. Her tone was almost dismissive, as if it didn't really matter. She glanced toward the door, to make sure that no-one was listening. “Don't worry, no-one else knows. Not as far as I'm aware, anyway. I just put two and two together.”

“When?”

“Ben -”

“When did you work it out?”

“When it happened.” She paused. “It wasn't exactly hard to spot, not for anyone who actually had their eyes open.”

“And you didn't think to mention it to me?”

“What would be the point? You seemed to have it all under control.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

He stepped closer to her. “Let me get this straight,” he said after a moment. “You knew that I'd murdered Garland Packer, and you did absolutely nothing about it?”

“What
should
I have done?” she asked. “Marched you down to the police station?”

“You should have done
something
,” he replied. “Realizing that your son is a murderer is not a life event that most people would be able to sweep under the carpet.”

“You had your reasons.”

“I had my
reasons
?” he asked incredulously, clearly struggling to believe what he was hearing. “What the hell does that mean? I'm a murderer but it's okay because you figure I wasn't just doing it for fun?”

“You're a smart boy,” she replied, her voice sounding firmer now, more poised. “You've always been a good person, and moral too. I didn't know Garland Packer very well, but I knew enough to understand the malign influence he had over this town. The last thing I wanted was to ruin your life by implicating you in what happened to him, so I left well alone.” Getting to her feet, she headed to the cabinet and took out a bottle of gin. “I always told you I was the opposite of your father, didn't I? Now
there's
a man who never made a decent decision in his life. The day he got turned down by the Border...”

Her voice trailed off.

“He got turned down?” Ben said after a moment.

She shrugged.

“I guess it's starting to make sense now,” he continued. “I knew he was lying when he said he hadn't heard of it. Still, how could
you
never mention that you knew what I'd done? Do you realize how much danger I've been in ever since that day? Even now, I'm certain they're going to come after me.”

“Then you'd better run.” She took a swig of gin, before turning to him. “Again.”

He shook his head.

“Ben -”

“I'm not running,” he told her. “I'm not turning a blind eye and I'm not pretending I don't know what's happening.”

“What's the alternative? Try to expose it?” She paused. “They'll never let you.”

“I don't need them to
let
me,” he said firmly. “I didn't let them kill my brother, but they still did it. They still sent their stag-headed man after him. Why did they do that, anyway? Was Jack finally starting to work out what was happening? Don't tell me my ham-fisted brother was actually onto the story of a lifetime...”

“I honestly have no idea,” Audrey replied, taking another swig from the bottle. “He never mentioned anything about it to me.”

“This is insane,” he said, heading to the door. “Paula was right, I never should have come back. I should have stayed away and let this whole place rot.”

“Who's Paula?”

He glanced back at her. “Never mind.”

“Is there someone in your life?” she asked with a hopeful smile. “Please, Ben, sit down and talk to me. Tell me about yourself. Do you have a girlfriend? My God, you could be married for all I know. Do you have children?” She waited for a reply. “Don't you think it's time for us to actually talk for once? We've got a lot of catching-up to do.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” he replied, “except I can't. To be completely honest, I don't think I could spend another moment in your company without throwing up.” With that, he headed out into the hallway, leaving her standing alone with the bottle of gin.

“Why don't you invite her to come visit?” she called after him. “Ben? Invite Paula! We'd all love to meet her!”

***

“Jack didn't hate you,” Beth said several hours later, as she and Ben sat on the steps at the front of the house. The morning sun had risen a while earlier, and Christmas Day had somehow arrived in the middle of the family's horror. “He was just messed up,” she continued. “He was so desperate to understand everything, he latched onto the first explanation that even remotely made sense.”

“Did you read the paper?” Ben asked.

She nodded.

“He thought I was a serial murderer,” Ben continued. “He thought I was a monster. Frankly, I'd rather he'd hated my guts for some banal reason instead of...” Sighing, he put his head in his hands. “Well, this is turning out to be a fine Christmas, isn't it? Will the funeral home be open tomorrow, or do we have to wait for the twenty-seventh?”

She put an arm around his shoulder.

“No-one believes that you killed Jack,” she told him. “I think even Dad couldn't quite twist his thought processes into such a knot that he got to
that
conclusion.”

“Speaking of which,” Ben replied, turning to her, “is there any word from the old man? Given the events of the past twenty-four hours, don't you think he might decide to come along today?”

She sighed. “Bob's driven over to see if he can get him to change his mind. I don't think he'll have much of a chance, though.” She checked her watch. “It's half past nine, we should -”

Suddenly she froze, and a moment of shock filled her features.

“We should what?” Ben asked. “Go back inside and try to salvage Christmas? Put on happy faces for the kids? Jesus Christ, the kids... What are we going to do about the kids?”

“It's half past nine,” Beth whispered, trying not to panic as she remembered the arrangement she'd made with Luke at the diner, a little over twenty-four hours earlier. Somehow, in all the madness that had followed, she'd forgotten all about the deal. “Half past nine, that means it's thirty minutes since...”

“Beth?”

“Oh Jesus Christ!” she shouted, scrambling to her feet and racing into the house. As soon as she reached the kitchen, she grabbed her phone and brought up Luke's number, desperately trying to get in touch with him to call off the hit. “Pick up,” she whispered, almost breathless with fear, “pick up, please, for the love of God -”

The call failed to connect.

Trying again, she got the same result.

“No,” she stammered, starting to hyperventilate as she stared at the phone, “this can't be happening!”

“Beth?” Ben asked from the doorway, having caught up to her. “What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Hang on,” she replied, bringing up Bob's number and waiting for him to answer. “Come on, you son of a bitch, answer your goddamn -”

“Hey,” Bob said suddenly on the other end of the line, “I'll be home in a bit. I tried your Dad -”

“Where are you?” she asked frantically.

“I'm... Uh, I'm just on the other side of town. I'm outside the garage on Bleeker Street, but -”

“Oh God,” she continued, trying to work out what to do next. “You have to get home. Bob, I need you to get home right now!”

“I've got a flat tire. I'm just changing it and -”

“Come home!” she screamed.

“Beth -”

“You have to come home! You have to -”

Stopping suddenly, she realized she could hear another voice on the other end of the line, a woman's voice.

“Bob?” she asked cautiously. “Who are you with?”

“Um, no-one,” he replied, clearly lying. “Honey, I'll be right back in an hour or so. Wait, I have to go, there's someone stopping to -”

Suddenly the line went dead.

“Bob?”

She waited.

“Bob?” Frantically, she tried to call him again, only to find that his phone was off. She tried a couple more times before freezing, and for a moment her mind felt completely blank, as if her level of panic had reached an unprecedented level. All thoughts, all emotions, had come to a grinding halt, waiting for her to somehow find a way forward.

“Beth?” Ben said, making his way over to her. “What's wrong? Is Bob okay?”

“If, on the other hand,” she remembered Luke telling her a little over twenty-four hours earlier, “you don't send me a message during the twenty-four hours, I will know that you want me to go ahead. Your decision will be irrevocable, and I will strike fast and I will strike hard, and you will never hear from me again. Your husband will be history within minutes of that deadline passing.”

“Oh God,” she stammered, trying once again to get through to Bob, but finding that his phone was still switched off. “I have to find him, I have to stop all of this before it's too late.”

“Stop what?” Ben asked. “Beth, you're starting to worry me.”

“I need your help,” she continued breathlessly, turning to him, “but first I have to tell you something and...” She paused. “Ben, you have to promise not to get mad at me. I've done something terrible.”