The Inheritances Game (Jameson Hawthorne)

Avery's Father?

"We need to talk." I looked at Jameson who had found me in the hallway, I was heading to the Archive to talk to Avery.

 "I'm busy" I tried to walk past him but he stopped me.

"It's E-day." Jameson said. "You have plenty of free time." The modular scheduling system at Heights Country Day was complicated and took forever to remember. 

"Fine what is it?"

"Toby Hawthorne is Avery's father."

I looked around. "What?"

"That's what you figured out yesterday."

I nodded. "I'm going to ask her right now."

I saw Avery sitting at a table with a couple books, her bodyguard stood in the corner watching. I looked to Jameson before grabbing a seat next to Avery.

"Hi." She looked to me then to Jameson.

"We found something." 

She looked at me puzzled. "Why are you telling me?"

"Is Toby Hawthorne your father." I asked ignoring her question.

She looked at me in shock, "How did you-

"Let's go somewhere more private." Jameson interrupted looking around.

Avery's Pov

I followed Jameson and Catalina. Eli, who couldn't possibly have heard the whispers, followed me—out of the main building, across the quad, down a stone path to the Art Center. Inside, we strode past studio after studio, until we ended up in what a sign informed me was the Black Box Theater: an enormous square room with black walls, a black floor, and stage lights built into a black ceiling. Jameson flipped a series of switches, and the overhead lights turned on. Eli took up a position by the door, and I followed Catalina to the far side of the room.

"What Cal said in the archive," Jameson murmured looking to Catalina. "It was just a theory."The room was built for acoustics, built for voices to carry. "Tell me we're wrong." 

I glanced back at Eli and chose my words carefully in response. "I found a hidden compartment in your grandfather's desk. There was a copy of my birth certificate." I didn't say Toby's name. I wouldn't, not with an audience. 

"And?" Jameson prompted. 

"The name was my father's. The signature wasn't." 

"I knew it." Catalina said.

Jameson started pacing, but he turned back toward me before he got too far away. "Do you realize what this means, Heiress?" he asked, his green eyes alight. I did. I'd said it out loud once. It made sense—more sense than anything else had made since I arrived for the reading of the will. 

"There could be other explanations," I said hoarsely, even though I didn't really believe that. I have a secret. My mom hadn't invented that game out of nowhere. My whole life, she'd been telling me there was something I didn't know. Something big. Something about me. 

"It makes perfect sense—Hawthorne sense." Catalina said looking excited.

"Twelve birds, one stone, Heiress. Whatever happened twenty years ago, the old man intended to use you to pull his prodigal son back onto the board now." Jameson looked just as excited.

"Doesn't seem like it worked," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. I was the biggest news story in the world. I had no idea where Toby was, but the same couldn't be said in reverse. If he is my father, then where is he? Why isn't he here?

"Let's call off the bet," Jameson said softly. I whipped my head up to look at him. I searched for a tell on his face, something to let me know what angle he was playing. "This is big, Heiress." If he'd been anyone else, his voice might have sounded gentle—but the Jameson Hawthorne I knew wasn't gentle. "Big enough that neither of us needs extra motivation now. Neither of us is going to solve this alone."

"I'm at the center of this. You need me." 

"And you don't need anyone?" 

"Fine," I said, my voice rough in my throat. "Let's call off the bet." 

"Now that you guys are on a team." Catalina said, before looking to Jameson. "How about we get some air?"

"I like what you're thinking."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Follow me." Catalina said.

Two minutes later, Jameson, Catalina, and I were on top of the Art Center. This time, Eli didn't get a chance to position himself in the doorway before Jameson locked him out. My bodyguard knocked on the door to the roof, then pounded. 

"I'm fine," I yelled back, watching as Jameson walked over to stand at the very edge of the roof. The toes of his dress shoes hung over the edge. The wind picked up. "Be careful," I said, even though he didn't know the meaning of the word. 

"You know something funny, Heiress? My grandfather always said that Hawthorne men have nine lives." Jameson turned back to me. "Hawthorne men," he repeated, "have nine lives. He was talking about Toby. The old man knew his son had survived. He knew that Toby was out there. But he never did more than drop hints until he left that message for Xander." 

"Find Tobias Hawthorne the Second," I said quietly. Catalina came out from behind a nearby column with what appeared to be a roll of Astroturf and a bucket of golf balls. She set the bucket down, then rolled out the turf. While she was setting that up, Jameson disappeared then came back with a golf club and snatched a ball from the bucket. He laid the ball on the turf and lined up his shot. 

"I come up here," he said, looking out at the picturesque woods on the back side of the campus, "to get away." His feet shoulder width apart, he swung the club back, then took his shot. The golf ball soared off the roof of the Art Center and into the woods. "I'm not saying that I think you're overwhelmed, Heiress. I'm not saying that I think you're hurting. I'm just saying"—he held the golf club out to me—"sometimes it feels good to smack the hell out of something." I stared at him, incredulous, then smiled. "This has got to be against the rules." 

"What rules?" Catalina smiled handing me a golf ball. "Allow me to let you in on a Hawthorne trade secret, there are no rules that matter more than winning." She said looking to Jameson.

"I don't know who my father is. Skye was never what one would call maternal. The old man raised us. He made us in his own image." Jameson said swinging, and the ball went soaring. "Xan has his mind. Grayson got the gravitas. Nash has a savior complex. And I..." Another ball. Another shot. "I don't know when to give up." Jameson turned back to me and held the club out once more. I remembered Skye telling me that the word to describe Jameson was hungry. I took the club from his hand. "I'm the one who doesn't give up," Jameson reiterated. "But Xander's the one the old man asked to find Toby." 

On the other side of the door to the roof, Eli was still banging. I should put him out of his misery. I looked at Jameson. I should walk away. But I didn't. I walked over to the bucket of golf balls and tossed one onto the turf. I'd never held a golf club before. I had no idea what I was doing, but it looked satisfying. Sometimes, it did feel good to smack the hell out of something. The first time I swung, I missed the ball.

"Head down," Catalina told me. "Move your hands father down too." I swung again this time the club connected with the ball, and I watched it soar. A rush of emotion built up inside me, and this time I didn't push it down.

"If Toby's my father," I said, louder than I'd meant to, "where has he been all my life? You know the way your grandfather's mind operated," I told Jameson fiercely. "You know his go-to tricks. What are we missing?" 

"Toby 'died' years before you were born." Catalina said. "It's been twenty years since the fire on Hawthorne Island." 

It had been twenty years since the fire. Twenty years since Tobias Hawthorne had revised his will to disinherit his entire family. And just like that, I had an idea. "In the last game we played, there were clues embedded in the old man's will. "

"But that wasn't the old man's only will." Jameson knew exactly what I was saying. He saw what I saw. 

"The old man changed his middle name to Tattersall right after Toby's supposed death. And right after that, he wrote a will disinheriting the family." I swallowed. "You're always saying he had favorite tricks. What do you think the chances are that the old will is part of this puzzle?"