Last Chance Book Club

Chapter 18


A week after the fire at The Kismet, Mrs. Andrews came into Todd’s third-period history class and announced to everyone that Todd needed to go to the principal’s office.

Everyone started to laugh. Todd collected his books and followed Mrs. Andrews. He was trying to think of what he might have done wrong. His hands got all sweaty, and his heart was pumping hard, like the night of the fire, when he thought Mom might get burned up.

He was still a little shaky over the fire. Everyone in school was talking about it. But he didn’t want to. He worried that Mom might decide to go back to Baltimore.

And he’d have to leave Champ.

Even worse, he wouldn’t get a chance to go to Coach Canaday’s football camp. He’d decided that maybe if he got really good at football, Dad would pay attention to him.

He followed Mrs. Andrews into Mr. Middleton’s office. The principal was sitting at his desk, and there was an African-American lady with him.

“Todd, I’d like you to meet Ms. Darrett,” Mr. Middleton said.

“Hello, Todd,” she said in a deep, husky voice.

The principal gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, Todd. Ms. Darrett is here to ask you a few questions.”

“About what? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Of course you haven’t. We’re just concerned that maybe there are things you want to talk about,” Mr. Middleton said.

“What things?”

Ms. Darrett gave him a smile that Todd could see right through. She was a big, fat poser.

“Why don’t you sit down?”

“I don’t want to sit. I want to go back to history class.”

“Sit down, Todd,” Mr. Middleton said.

He sat.

“Now, I just want to ask you a few questions about the man you’re living with,” Ms. Darrett said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, the man you’re living with. Mr. Randall.”

“What about him?”

“Has he ever done anything that made you uncomfortable?”

Hettie pulled her Audi TT into the gravel drive next to her river house. The house had once belonged to her father and it wasn’t anything grand. Just a five-room bungalow with a tin roof. She’d spent her summers in this little house, with its porch overlooking the flowing waters of the Edisto River.

The house sat in a long line of small bungalows owned by other local citizens. Altogether there were about twenty homes here, and the homeowners made up the board of the Edisto Country Club.

It was an unusual country club because there wasn’t a tennis court or golf course to be found. Just a big party pavilion where Allenberg hosted the annual Watermelon Festival barbecue. And the river, of course.

It was the last day of April—time to get the house ready for the summer. In past years, Violet would come out here and do the work. But this year, Hettie had come herself. And she’d almost enjoyed the sweeping and the dusting and the mopping. She was tired when she finally sat on the porch with a glass of sweet tea.

Now that Jimmy was gone, she was thinking about closing up the big house in June, July, and August and spending her summer here. She was thinking about letting Violet take a paid vacation. She was thinking about cooking and cleaning for herself.

She sat on the old porch glider and rocked back and forth, thinking about the mistakes she’d made in her life.

Her reverie was broken a few moments later when a big red Cadillac Eldorado came up the drive. She tensed, expecting Dash to pull into her driveway. He was about the last person on earth she wanted to talk to. He was one of the mistakes she’d made.

But instead of stopping to visit, he drove right past and pulled his big car into the driveway of Miriam’s house. He seemed to have a little spring in his step as he walked from the car to the porch. He entered the bungalow, and a moment later the air conditioner kicked in.

Five minutes later, Savannah’s little Honda came rolling up the drive. She pulled her car in behind Dash’s and headed toward the porch steps.

Dash and Savannah were probably just getting the place ready for the summer. Hettie put it out of her mind until about an hour later, when they both emerged. Before they headed to their respective automobiles, they stopped and embraced.

Hettie felt like a voyeur, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. That kiss was not exactly what a couple of cousins usually shared. It was practically scorching. And you’d have to be a total idiot not to realize that they didn’t really want to leave each other.

Hettie checked her watch. It was almost three-thirty. The middle school let out in about ten minutes, and Savannah probably had to go pick up Todd.

Hettie’s first inclination was to pick up the phone and call Rocky. This was hot stuff. But her second inclination was something altogether different.

The loneliness that she’d been valiantly battling for years settled over her like a heavy blanket. It was one thing to be lonely when you knew a man like Dash was just waiting there in the wings. And even if she didn’t love Dash and had never intended to be with him, seeing him with someone else made her envious.

And not because she wanted him. She just wanted what Dash and Savannah seemed to have found. She wanted to kiss someone like Savannah kissed Dash. Like she wanted to devour him.

Hettie squeezed her eyes shut and told herself that she was being silly. She reminded herself that her independence was more important than hot, sultry kisses.

But wait. Savannah was one of the most independent women Hettie had ever met. And there she was kissing on Dash Randall like he hung the moon. And, of course, Dash had given her a ton of money for the theater, but she didn’t even know it. Dash was doing everything he could to support that independence.

Damn.

She had misjudged him. Badly. He’d changed. He’d grown up. He was a better man than Jimmy ever could have been.

Of course, she didn’t love him. She never would. But mixed in with her own self-pity was a little glimmer of happiness. For Dash. Because Savannah was a wonderful woman.

And now, of course, it all made sense. No wonder Savannah had refused Bill’s proposal.

Hettie smiled. Maybe Rocky wasn’t the first person she needed to tell about this new, interesting development. Maybe Bill needed to know. She had a feeling that Bill might be relieved to find out that it wasn’t him Savannah had rejected. It was just a matter of chemistry.

And then she wondered if Bill knew anything about chemistry.

Todd seemed kind of subdued when Savannah picked him up from school.

“Did you have a good day?”

“It was okay.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Sometimes trying to talk to a twelve-year-old was impossible.

When Savannah got home, a blue Chevy sedan blocked her parking spot in the drive. She parked in Dash’s normal spot and got out of the Honda.

A woman in a navy blue suit greeted her from the porch where she had obviously been waiting. “Savannah White?” the woman said, getting up out of one of the rockers.

“That’s me. What can I do for you?” Savannah headed for the porch. Todd hung back.

“Your aunt said I could wait for you here,” the woman said.

“And you are?”

“I’m Shawna Darrett with the Allenberg County office of the Department of Social Services.” She thrust out her hand. Savannah shook it with as firm a grip as she could muster.

“What can I do for you Ms. Darrett?”

The woman gazed at Todd, who was still standing by the car. “Honey, why don’t you go on inside while I speak with your mother.”

Todd strode forward, up the steps. “Are you going to ask her a bunch of dumb questions, too?”

Savannah turned on Todd. “What questions?”

“Mr. Middleton pulled me out of South Carolina history so I could talk with her. She asked me all kinds of questions about how I got the black eye.”

“How you got the black—honey, everyone knows how you got that black eye.”

“Yeah, but she wanted to make sure it wasn’t because Dash hit me or something.”

“What?”

He shrugged and then glared at Ms. Darrett. “Dash didn’t hit me, okay? And I don’t think his taking me out into the swamp to hunt for frogs was a big deal, either. Or taking me to meet Coach Canaday. Or playing football and Ultimate Frisbee with me.”

“Now, Todd, sometimes when an older man—”

“Zip it, lady. I’m going to walk Champ.” Todd turned and stomped into the house and slammed the door.

“What’s this about?” Savannah asked.

“Is your son always so rude?”

“Sometimes, when a complete stranger arrives and tells him that the only man who has ever shown any interest in him is being accused of abusing him. If you want to see abuse and neglect, try talking to Todd’s father.”

Ms. Darrett smiled. “Now, I know this is difficult. But we’re required to investigate every allegation of abuse and neglect. And someone made a report to our office that Todd was being abused, or was at risk of being abused. That he was living in a household with a man who is a substance abuser and who has a history of violence.”

“Who did this?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. It could have been an anonymous report. We get them all the time. Now, why don’t we sit down and talk about this, shall we?”

Savannah sat in one of the rockers as her fury mounted. This was exactly the sort of thing Claire would pull. It was ten times more effective than arson. And, of course, Claire had the best legal minds at her disposal. While Savannah was here on her own.

“I have a few questions about Dash Randall. I see that he was a professional baseball player. I looked up his history. Did you know that major-league baseball sent him to rehab on three separate occasions?”

“No.”

“You should have, especially since your son is living in the same house with him.”

“He’s family.”

“Most abusers are.”

“He didn’t abuse anyone. And he’s sober now. He goes to AA meetings every Thursday evening.”

“I know that. But he has a history of addiction and that’s not good. Now, during your time here, has Mr. Randall been involved in any violence? Any fighting or anything like that?”

Savannah’s stomach dropped. She had to be honest with this woman. “Uh, well, he got into a fight at Dot’s Spot a couple of months ago.”

“Dot’s Spot?”

She closed her eyes. “It’s a bar in town.”

“Was he drinking?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Dot Cox, who owns the place. But he did get into a fight with Roy Burdett. And I can guarantee you that Roy was drinking. But aside from that one time I haven’t—”

“So he goes to bars on a regular basis.”

“No. Just that one time.”

“I see.”

“And he’s been showing a lot of attention to your son?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“No. I think it’s wonderful. Todd needs a man around, since his father has been absent most of his life.”

Shawna Darrett interlaced her fingers. She had very long nails painted an electric pink, and there were at least five rings distributed among her ten fingers. She might be wearing a blue suit, but behind that institutional exterior was a real human person.

After a long moment, the caseworker spoke. “Mrs. White, I know this is hard. And I know that Mr. Randall is well off and somewhat famous. But think about what happened up in Pennsylvania with that college coach. Sometimes predators look like the guy next door. They are the kind of men that kids gravitate toward. And I gather that Mr. Randall teaches a whole bunch of children up at that stable of his.”

Savannah could not believe the way this woman was twisting reality. “I’m sorry. Dash teaches kids to ride horses, and from what I’ve seen, he’s pretty good at it. And the kids he teaches seem to really like him. He also helps out the Little League, I’ve discovered. Not to mention Pop Warner football. And I’m not talking about just giving money. I’m talking about helping out with his time.”

“Exactly. That’s what predators do.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“And then there’s the allegation of arson and something to do with snakes. I spoke with the Allenberg sheriff, and while he seems to believe that Mr. Randall isn’t guilty of anything, it’s also a fact that the only people who have a key to the theater are you, Dash Randall, and the contractor.”

“The contractor left the door open. Dash did not burn down the theater.”

“But what about the snakes? I gather he put the snakes in the theater and then had someone videotape him catching them.”

“He did no such thing. I can’t believe the sheriff told you that.”

“Well, not exactly. But the sheriff did admit that Mr. Randall is still a person of interest in the case. As are you, I might add. Which is problematic.”

Emotions welled up in Savannah’s throat making it hard to respond to Ms. Darrett’s indictment. “You think I burned the theater? You think I’m a criminal?” she managed to say, despite the knot in her throat.

“No, ma’am. I’m just investigating the facts to make sure that Todd is taken care of.” Shawna leaned forward and put a hand on her knee. “I know this is hard. Mr. Randall is your cousin. But that’s the way these cases usually go. The bad actor is someone everyone trusts.”

“No. You’re crazy. Dash is not abusing Todd. He’s not a drug addict, or, God forbid, some kind of pedophile. And neither he nor I is an arsonist. Please, this is ridiculous.”

“According to my research, Mr. Randall came from an abusive home. You know that a very large percentage of abusers were abused themselves.”

“No. Stop. I’m not listening.” Savannah stood up, tears forming in her eyes.

“Ma’am, please, calm down. We’re just trying to do the best thing for your child. I have to tell you that, if you don’t cooperate in our investigation, we’ll have to take steps to put your child in a safer environment.”

She turned. “Safer environment? You mean foster care?”

“Well, it’s not perfect, but it—”

“You think foster care is better than living with his mother and his great-aunt and a guy who pays some attention to him?”

“Ma’am, if that guy is hurting him, and you’re letting him do it, then yes.”

“Oh, my God. This is crazy. This is my ex-mother-in-law trying to make my life a living hell. That’s all this is.”

“Well, that may be, but I would advise you to sit down and answer my questions in a calm manner. Otherwise things might not go so well for you.”

Savannah buttoned her lip and sniffled back her angry tears. She was not going to let Claire White defeat her. She was not going to let that woman smear Dash either.

She sat down. “What do you want to know?”

Dash strolled from his car to the house, a goofy smile on his face. He’d been sneaking around with Savannah for a week. And he’d stopped being scared and started feeling happy.

Happiness, he discovered, was addictive.

He was hooked on Savannah. Bad. But it didn’t feel bad. It didn’t feel destructive. It was just… good.

Because he had a feeling she was also hooked on him. And that was new and different and wonderful.

He wanted to come out, so to speak. There was no way they could continue to skulk around having dirty sex every afternoon without someone finding out. And he didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore.

He was in love. In a sober way. Which was kind of weird because being with Savannah was an incredible high. Why hadn’t he ever figured this out before?

He opened the front door and heard Savannah’s voice even before he reached the kitchen. Something was wrong. He quickened his pace. He’d learned how to recognize her moods.

“Claire, I can’t believe you would stoop so low.” She was angry. Boy howdy, he didn’t think he’d ever heard her voice sound so harsh.

“Well, if you didn’t do this horrible thing, then who did? I would really appreciate it if you would back off and tell Greg that he needs to call me so we can discuss this like adults.”

Dash entered the kitchen to find Savannah standing at the sink, looking out the window with her back to him. Her body was tense—practically rigid through the shoulders. The wicked witch of Baltimore was obviously on the other end of the line.

Savannah pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it. “Bitch,” she growled.

“Did she hang up on you?” Dash asked.

She turned. Holy moly, her face was a mess.

“Darlin’ what is it?”

“Nothing,” she said, her lips tight. She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and blew her nose.

“You’ve been crying. It has to be something.”

“No, it doesn’t.” She dabbed her eyes. “I’ve got to get supper started. It’s book club night.” She didn’t meet his gaze.

“Darlin’, what’s the wicked witch up to now?”

“It’s nothing. She’s being difficult is all, and she makes me so angry. I don’t like feeling angry. So please, just leave me alone. I need to cook.”

She started moving around the kitchen like a whirlwind. It occurred to him that Savannah’s love for cooking was emotionally rooted. She and Aunt Sally had been thick as thieves. She might remember her grandfather better, but in some ways she was a whole lot like Aunt Sally. Aunt Sally almost never got angry, but when she did, she would cry. And the tears coming out of Savannah’s eyes were a dead giveaway.

He ought to leave her alone. But he couldn’t. All he could think about was the way Uncle Earnest used to handle Aunt Sally. So he sauntered up behind her, put his hands on her tense shoulders, and turned her around.

He didn’t try to kiss her, or talk to her, or anything. He just gave her the biggest hug he could muster. She kind of melted into his chest, and that warmed him up from the inside out. It wasn’t even a sexual warmth, it was just… good. To hold her like this was just the best thing in the world. Especially when she leaned on him. No one had done that before. Ever.

He held her for a solid two minutes before she pushed away. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. She was still upset about something, but she wasn’t going to talk about it.

He wanted her to share her burden with him. But he couldn’t force that kind of trust. He needed to give her time. And the strange thing was that he knew he had all the time in the world.

She wasn’t going anywhere. She was here to stay.

“I gotta cook dinner,” she said.

“Okay. I’ll get out of your hair. Where’s Todd?”

“He’s at Oliver’s house. He’s having dinner over there.”

“We were going to go to Golfing for God for putt-putt tonight.”

She shrugged. “I guess he forgot. I’m glad he has friends his own age.”

Something wasn’t right. But he didn’t want to push it. “Okay.” He headed down the hall and out to the porch. Aunt Miriam was sitting in her rocker. She looked like she was sleeping.

The skin along her jawline looked waxy. She had gotten so frail these last few months. His heart squeezed in his chest. Aunt Mim would be eighty-five in September. He had to accept that her days on this earth were numbered. In fact, lately, since Uncle Harry died, she seemed to be less interested in things. Like she wanted to go be with Harry instead of being here. With him.

He didn’t like thinking about that. And he didn’t like thinking about the way Savannah wouldn’t meet his eyes, just now.

What in the world would he do if Miriam died and Savannah left? The question rocked him to his soul.

Savannah sniffled back her tears and finished layering the noodles and cheese for her lasagna.

She needed to stop crying. How the hell was she supposed to tell Dash what Claire had gotten up to? It would destroy him to know that people thought he was a danger to kids. If she fought this thing, they would drag Dash’s reputation through the mud and back. She didn’t want to think about the gossip. She didn’t want to think about the hurt or the damage fighting this would cause.

She popped the lasagna into the oven and started pulling together a salad. Dash wasn’t the only one who would be hurt.

Savannah had spoken with Doc Cooper several times over the last few weeks. They were both concerned that Miriam was losing weight, even though Savannah was pushing food at her. Doc was beginning to think that Miriam might be experiencing transient ischemic attacks—or mini strokes. But the only way to test that was to take her up to Orangeburg for an MRI. She didn’t want to go.

Miriam was in frail health. She was old. This investigation might kill her.

More tears flooded her eyes.

If she went back to Baltimore, she could stop this attack on Dash and Miriam. But it would leave Todd brokenhearted. He’d have to leave Champ behind. He’d have to leave Dash behind. He’d have to leave the friends he’d been making. How could she do that to him?

How could she do this to herself? Because she had fallen in love with Dash. She didn’t want to leave him. But she couldn’t stay.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks. This was an impossible situation. No matter what she did, someone was going to get hurt.