The House that Jack Built Read online

  Sian couldn't breathe either. Just standing there, staring at Alice, knowing she was dead, Sian felt like she was dying too. Every breath was shorter and shorter. Her chest heaved; her vision darkened. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't... she just couldn't.

  Gavin turned just in time to catch Sian as she fell. Goddamn her for being so stubborn. He should have dragged her away as soon as he'd seen the blood. He should have thrown her over his shoulder and driven away, never looking back. As soon as he'd seen the blood he'd known. He'd known they were dead.

  "Gavin," a harsh voice whispered.

  His heart thudded as he lowered Sian carefully to the floor. "Grandma, you're alive!"

  "Not for long, boy. Come here."

  He stepped over several dead men and knelt beside her, taking her fragile hand in his own. He could see she was already near death, and he wanted to make empty promises and tell her everything would be alright, but he knew better.

  "We've been betrayed," she whispered, voice cracking with pain, face twisted in anger. "Betrayed by one of our own. Find them and avenge us! You are now the head. It is your duty."

  "I swear," he whispered as the life faded from her eyes. "I will not rest until they pay. I will make them all pay." She didn't hear him; she was already gone. Her hand was limp in his, and her face was slack, lacking any sign of the grandma he loved.

  He closed his eyes for a minute, forcing the grief away, trying to hold on to everything Grandma had taught him. Perseverance and right were on his side. Justice would guide him, just as it always had.

  He quickly checked Alice. She was dead. He'd known she was. There was no point in checking his dad. Gavin could have put his hand through the hole in his dad's chest.

  He angrily swiped a tear from his cheek. Grief would do him no good. He needed anger. And righteous retribution on those who had betrayed his family. On those who had murdered them.

  He searched the room, but his father's journals were gone. All the records and notes his father was in charge of as head of the family were gone. Everything was gone.

  It was just him. Him and Sian. He felt a quick wave of despair. How could he avenge his family while keeping Sian safe? He glanced at her. She was still unconscious, sweet-faced, innocent, and angel-like in the soft lights of the closet. How he wished she was just a little harder, just a little meaner, had just a little more edge.

  He searched one of the dead men, knowing it was futile. Only an amateur would have anything on them that would tell Gavin anything, and these men hadn't been amateurs. If they had been, his family would still be alive.

  He didn't find anything. No receipts, no cards or ID's. Not even loose change. He searched them all but found nothing.

  He located the special floor panel, popped it open, and pulled out the lockbox. Everything he and Sian would need was in there. His family was nothing if not prepared.

  He opened the box and picked up the phone stored there. He pushed the power button, mind whirling. He had to call them. It didn't matter that one of them had betrayed them all. He didn't know who it was, and he couldn't let everyone suffer just to protect himself.

  He made his way quickly through the contact list, calling everyone. Most of them answered. Some of them didn't. His words were brief and always the same.

  "The house has fallen. Trust no one."

  He knew he didn't have to speak in code, didn't have to overcomplicate it. But one of them, one of them, was a turncoat. And until he knew which one, he didn't know who to trust and didn't want anyone to trust anyone else.

  After he'd called the last contact, he powered down the phone and put it back in the box. It was time to go. There was nothing for them here, and it wouldn't be long before they came looking for him.

  He glanced around the room one last time. He'd spent so many hours here with Owen and Alice, listening and learning as his dad had taught them what it meant to be an Ellis. He'd taken his oath here, right before his first kill. He'd pledged his allegiance to the Ellis family, to justice, to the removal of corruption in all its forms.

  He couldn't believe it. His father was dead. His family was dead. But he was still an Ellis. He would always be an Ellis. And now he was the Ellis head.

  He cast one last glance at his dad, missing him already, missing his words of wisdom and his dry humor. He had ruled with a firm but fair hand. He had been a good leader. But someone had betrayed his trust, and Gavin would make them pay.

  Chapter Two

  Volume 2; Entry 112; April of 1890, Jack Ellis:

  Bronwen and I saw our new home for the first time today. The young town of Golden is nestled amongst the mountains like a special treat, and as soon as I saw it I knew it was perfect.

  Bronwen is not yet convinced of my decision, but she is quite pregnant so I forgive her for not understanding the brilliance of it. She will eventually come around to my point of view. She always does.

  The east coast cities are already too well established to accept a newcomer as a leader among them, but the West is willing and ready to accept new leadership and new blood, for indeed that is all they have.

  With my lineage and fortune, we will be able to create a life for ourselves here, far away from the filthy air and oppressive politics of London.

  It was dark when Sian woke. She lay in bed for a minute, head fuzzy, body aching, feeling like she had forgotten something important. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then gasped, remembering her terrible and vivid nightmare.

  She rolled out of bed, fumbling for her lamp switch. She had to find Gavin, make sure he was okay, and then she'd tell him all about her dream and they would laugh.

  Her hand hit something, but it wasn't her lamp. Something was wrong. The room didn't feel right. There was carpet under her feet not bare boards. Sian's heart dropped.

  She wasn't in her room. She wasn't home. She didn't know where she was. Her fingers found a switch, and she flipped it, instantly realizing she was in some sort of hotel.

  Gavin was sitting in a chair across from her, face grim and covered in shadows, gun resting on his lap.

  "It wasn't a dream, was it?" she whispered, sitting back down on the bed.

  "No."

  "Gavin... What? Why?" Tears streamed down her cheeks. Why would anyone want to kill her family? Who would want to hurt them? They'd never hurt anyone. They were upstanding members of the community. They had been for over a hundred years.

  "What's going on?" she whispered, suddenly terrified. Gavin wasn't himself. He wasn't goofy and full of laughter. He was stiff and mechanical, and he was scaring her.

  "I can't explain it to you," he said, voice edged with regret. "But I need your help, Sian. I need you with me."

  She didn't know what that meant and was too scared to ask.

  "Someone," he said, voice infused with so much hatred she flinched. "Someone betrayed Dad. Us. All of us. Someone in our family, and I don't know who."

  "Betrayed us? How?"

  He shook his head and said, "That's not important. What's important is that it happened, and you and I are going to hunt them down and kill them."

  "WHAT?!!" Sian screeched, recoiling in horror. How could he even suggest such a thing? They couldn't kill anyone, let alone another Ellis.

  "Kill them!" Gavin snapped. "Avenge Mom, Dad, Grandma, Alice, and Owen! We have to!"

  She pinched herself. It was simply too bizarre to be real. It couldn't be real. Nothing was making sense. Her entire family had been brutally murdered. Gavin was talking about betrayal and revenge. It was wrong. Everything was wrong.

  "Grandma made me swear," Gavin added softly.

  "Grandma?" Sian asked, feeling a burst of hope. "She's alive?"

  "No," Gavin said harshly. "She's dead."

  "Then how...?"

  "It's not complicated!" he barked, not looking like her brother at all. "She was alive, told me to avenge them, and then she died!"

  Sian swallowed a sob and stared at him, wanting to hug him, hold him tight, and tell him it was okay, just like she'd done when his favorite dog Midnight had died. But she couldn't. He wasn't Gavin. He was someone else. Someone she didn't recognize.

  "Why did Dad have a hidden room?" she whispered. "Who killed all those men? Who were they?"

  He shook his head in frustration. "I can't tell you. You just have to trust me. It's just you and me. We're all we have."

  Sian didn't answer for a minute. Then she finally said, "But what about Uncle Danny or Alistair or Nick, Joseph..."

  "No," he interrupted. "We're alone."

  They'd never been alone. Not ever. There were so many Ellis's, and they were always together.

  "Then how... what..." she started.

  "We just figure it out. It shouldn't be that hard."

  She didn't believe him. She also didn't know what exactly they were going to figure out. She could tell Gavin knew more than he was saying, but he wasn't telling her, and she didn't understand why.

  He was her best friend. They never kept secrets from each other. At least she hadn't ever kept a secret from him. But he had. He'd known about the hidden room. He knew what was going on. He knew why their family had died. He was keeping secrets from her.

  The room suddenly felt small, and in the dim light he looked sinister, like a villain waiting to be revealed. She shuddered, folding her knees up to her chest. She wished he would trust her. She didn't have any choice; she had to trust him. He was all she had.

  "They'll be looking for me," Gavin added offhandedly. "So we'll just set a trap."

  "A trap?" Sian gasped. "Are you insane?"

  "A trap," he repeated. "All we need is one."

  "One what?"

  "If we get one of the assassins, he'll tell us everything we need to know," Gavin ground out, eyes hard as diamonds and just as sharp.

  Sian closed her eyes, but when she opened them Gavin's eyes were still unrecognizable. "Gavin, it's not too late," she insisted. "If you don't want to call the police, we should at least call Nick and Joseph. They'll help us. You know they will."

  "No!" he said firmly.

  Sian shrunk against the headboard. His tone of voice made it clear he would accept no argument, and it reminded her of their dad.

  "I'm going to go get some food," he said abruptly. "You stay here. Promise me you won't leave this room."

  "I won't," she whispered.

  "Promise me. Pinky swear." He held out his pinky like he'd done a thousand times before.

  The punishment for breaking a pinky swear was having all your toenails ripped off. It hurt terribly. She'd never felt it, but Owen had once broken a pinky swear and she had held him down while Gavin had ripped off just ONE of Owen's toenails. Owen had screamed like a girl, and he'd never, ever broken a pinky swear again.

  She reached out her hand slowly, knowing if their pinkies touched she wouldn't leave the room until he told her she could.

  "I swear," she whispered, wrapping her pinky with his.

  "I'll be back," he said. Suddenly the hardness left his eyes, replaced by grief and sadness. "Oh Sian," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." He hugged her tightly, and she clung to him, wishing she could go back to this morning, before all this, and make them all run away with her.

  "I wish..."

  "What?" she asked.

  "Nothing."

  Suddenly he was gone, and the air around her felt cold. As soon as the door closed behind him, Sian dropped to the floor and wept.

  They were dead. Her entire family was dead. All of them. Except for Gavin. Her best friend. Her partner in crime. Her big brother. She needed him, but he was so altered, so changed, it was like he wasn't himself at all.

  Gavin sighed heavily as he walked down the motel's dim, long hallway. The walls were filthy; the carpet was stained and bare; there were no surveillance cameras, no security whatsoever. This was the kind of motel someone stayed at when they didn't want to be found or when they had a shady business deal going on.

  There was enough cash in the lockbox for them to stay anywhere they wished for as long as they wanted. Furthermore Gavin had access to over a dozen accounts with plenty of funds, but he preferred staying under the radar. Whoever this was would expect him to hide in the style he was accustomed to. No one would expect Gavin to slum.

  Normally he'd never leave Sian alone in a place like this, but he needed a minute. If she kept looking at him with her questioning, confused eyes, he'd break and tell her everything. Their family had seen enough betrayal today, and he wasn't going to add his to it. She would just have to trust him.

  He'd get food, more weapons, contact some of his people, and try to get a lead on where the assassins had come from and why. He wished Grandma had lived just a minute longer so she could have told him something, anything, just more than what she had.

  They had never trained for anything like this. Not really. There was only one of him, and who knew how many of them. He wished he could trust someone besides Sian. He had family a plenty, but he didn't know who he could trust, and he didn't want to put Sian in danger by trusting the wrong person. He could call Nick; he knew he could. But what about Nick's wife, Nick's brother, Nick's mom? No. He'd have to figure it out on his own.

  Volume 2; Entry 138, Jack Ellis

  In the short time I have been here I have already compiled a list of those I have found full of corruption. In my naivety I thought the corruptness of such a small town would be less than London or New York. I failed to account for the political structure of this land.

  A land ran by the people, for the people. Only it isn't. Wealthy politicians make promise after promise of all they will do for those voting for them, but once they are in office they do not carry through on their promises. They do not protect their people or fight for their people or even care about their suffering. I am stunned by how much it truly resembles the corruption of my own country.

  It is hard to know how to proceed. I am no longer part of a larger group. I am no longer a spoke in a wheel. I am but one man, and the task before me is daunting.

  Ah, but what a foolish man I am, still blinded by my father's archaic rules and beliefs. Bronwen is with me, and she is more valuable than any brother I have and any man I have ever met. With her by my side, as my partner, I am capable of anything.

  It felt as if Sian wept for hours. She couldn't stop seeing her mom's face, white and slack, bloody smile underneath. She couldn't stop seeing Owen's glassy blue eyes. She couldn't stop seeing Alice's crumpled body on the floor. Or the hole in her dad's chest. Or the blood on her grandma's head.

  But that wasn't all. Questions spun through her head. So many questions. There was the hidden room she'd never known existed. The one Gavin knew was there. There was the gun lying limply in Alice's dead hand. She'd never seen such a ridiculous gun, so brightly colored. Teal and pink. Alice's two favorite colors.

  Alice was only seventeen. Or she had been. She was dead now. She wasn't anything. But she had been there in that room, the room Sian hadn't known existed, and she'd had a gun in her hand. And somehow Sian knew, she just knew, Alice had killed at least some of those men.

  When had Alice learned to shoot? Sian supposed it made sense. When Sian was younger she'd gone shooting all the time with her dad. She could still feel her dad's warm hands close over hers as he'd taught her how to aim.

  "Squeeze the trigger, Sian girl. Don't jerk. Squeeze."

  He'd let go of her, stepping back, and Sian had squinted down the sight the way he'd taught her. The target had blurred for a moment, then sharpened, and Sian squeezed.

  The air exploded around her, and she squealed, almost dropping the gun.

  "Did you see that?!" Gavin yelled excitedly from behind her. "She hit the bull's eye! First time!"

  "Good job, Sian," Dad had said, voice pleased. "Again."

  Sian shook her head, clearing the memory and trying to remember Alice with a gun in her hands. Suddenly an image of five-year-old Alice resurfaced. Just as brash and loud as she was at seventeen, holding a pistol almost as big as she was.

  "Did you see that, Daddy?" little Alice crowed. "I almost hit the target!"

  Sian, Owen, and Gavin had laughed and moved off to play their own game of take out the sniper. Sian frowned. When had she stopped going shooting with them? At some point her dad had just stopped taking her. There were an awful lot of things he had stopped taking her to. Her jiu jitsu classes. The fencing club. To observe criminal court. She'd even stopped participating in the family games.

  Why? Why had she stopped? Why hadn't she asked why? But she remembered now. She hadn't questioned him because he'd filled her life with so many other things. He'd purchased her a camera and snowshoes and sent her to a month long gourmet cooking course.

  She was terrible at cooking, but photography had seemed to come to her naturally, so her dad bought her books and computer equipment and enrolled her in course after course after course. He'd even sponsored her blog before she'd started making money on her own, not that she'd needed it.

  All the Ellis's had trust funds that would support them their entire life, even if they lived to be a hundred and fifty. But that didn't stop them from working. The Ellis's were vital, hard-working members of the community; they always had been.

  She stared at the stained carpet, trying to remember how she'd gotten here. What did photography and trust funds have to do with her family being murdered?

  The gun. The gun in Alice's hand. Alice's gun. How many of those men had Alice killed? And why did that make Sian so sad?

  Alice was the wild one, the crazy one, the one who came up with ideas like "let's all go skinny dipping in Clear Creek" even though it was snowing and only fifteen degrees out.

  But a killer? Was Alice a killer? She'd used the gun, Sian was sure of it. She'd killed at least some of the men in that hidden room. And Owen must have killed the men in his doorway. But of course he had. Owen was a killer shot. She just hadn't known he could kill.

  Suddenly Sian wasn't sure of anything. If someone had asked her yesterday, she wouldn't have thought either of her siblings had the ability to kill someone. She'd have laughed at the very thought. Why would they need to kill anyone anyway? That kind of thing only happened in movies, not real life.