CHAPTER 38
LUCY
The next day was humid and still. We ate tomato sandwiches for lunch, and Birdie studied her Bible. I sat on the porch for what felt like hours, trying to read the condensed version of Old Yeller and wondering how Reader’s Digest decided which parts to cut. I had trouble rooting myself in the make-believe world on the page. I was thinking about Crete. I couldn’t reconcile the two different images in my head: the uncle who loved me and the man Birdie suspected of attacking my mother. I tried to remember what the noises in his basement had sounded like, but I wasn’t sure I could trust my memory not to be overwhelmed by my imagination. Another thought surfaced, over and over, but I did my best to push it back down. I didn’t want to think about the possibility that Crete could be my father.
Birdie came out on the porch late in the afternoon and took down her bird feeder. “It’s gonna blow later,” she said. “Storm’s coming in.” I helped her move the hanging petunia onto the porch floor. We sat down on the steps to watch the clouds bloom in the sky to our west.
“Bess and I were talking about Holly Castle yesterday,” I said. “Remember her?”
“That poor girl.” Birdie shook her head. “Such an earnest little thing. Didn’t she win a blue ribbon for one of her rabbits at the fair way back when?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Bess and I didn’t even place.”
“I know you didn’t,” Birdie said. “You and Bess should’ve taken lessons from Holly. I always did feel sorry for her, though, having Becky for a mother.”
“Bess said Holly’s gone to live with her grandparents. So maybe things’ll work out better for her there.”
Birdie fixed her gaze on me. “That girl don’t have any grandparents. Becky never knew who the dad was, and her own folks passed a long while back. Your dad buried ’em.”
I shrugged. “Maybe it’s some other relatives, then.”
“I thought her other family lived in town.”
“No clue,” I said.
Birdie clicked her tongue, ruminating. “Well, I guess she couldn’t do worse than Becky.”
I wondered if it was a relief to Becky, doing whatever she wanted now that Holly was gone … somewhere. It was easy for girls like Cheri or Holly to slip away, to vanish, without anyone asking questions. No one was looking out for them. No one would guess that they might be locked away in a trailer. Or a basement. The noise I heard at Crete’s—could it have been Holly pounding on the door with those spindly arms that I still pictured clutching a rabbit cage?
It sounded crazy, and I was probably wrong, but I knew in my heart that it was possible. I couldn’t keep on doing nothing if there was even the slightest chance that Crete had someone in his basement. If Holly or some other girl were in there, I had to help her. It couldn’t wait. She could end up like Cheri if I waited. I needed to call Ray and have him contact the state police. They were more likely to listen to such a bizarre claim coming from him.
“If a big storm’s coming,” I said, “I should get over to the house and make sure all the windows are closed.” I didn’t want to explain everything to Ray on the phone with Birdie listening in. It had been hard enough the first time, with Daniel.
“Good idea,” Birdie said. “I’ll drive you.”
“The sun’s still shining, worrywart. I’ll run home and check on things, and as long as the weather stays clear, I’d like to get some work done in the garden. I bet it’s already full of weeds. If you want, I’ll bring back some zucchini and tomatoes, and we can do some canning later.”
Birdie glanced at the horizon. “Keep your eye on the weather. I expect you back before a drop hits the ground.”
I set off at a jog, taking nothing with me. The humidity sapped my strength, mimicked dreams where I ran in slow motion, the landscape barely moving no matter how hard I pushed myself. What I was about to do could tear my family apart. I wasn’t prepared for that. But I knew it had to be done.
Finally, I reached the house. It looked more abandoned than usual, as though the moment we left, paint had sloughed off, dry rot spread, shingles peeled and dropped. Queen Anne’s lace had reclaimed the yard, the frilly heads bobbing in the breeze. I walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone to dial Ray. His secretary answered, and I discovered why he hadn’t called me back. He’d blown out his knee playing golf in Branson and was staying at his lake house there while he recovered from surgery. “I’ll give you the number,” she said after I swore it was an emergency. “But I guarantee he’s out on the boat.” She was right, apparently, because no one answered.
I hunched over the phone, trying to decide whether to call Bess or my dad or Deputy Swicegood, who played poker with Crete once a month. Lucy. A voice wavered in the stillness of the empty house. I didn’t know whether I’d heard it or if it was only in my head. I turned around, and a shape materialized in the shadows. It was Jamie Petree. Fear tingled across my chest and down my spine as my body prepared to fight or flee. I hadn’t seen Jamie since the day at the river when he’d kissed me, but I recalled the crush of his body against mine, the vise of his arms, with clarity.
“I don’t mean to scare you,” he said. “I been waiting to get you alone.”
Not the best choice of words if he didn’t want to scare me.
“I almost had you yesterday, at Birdie’s. In the woods.”
“You’ve been watching me?” I judged the distance between us, weighed it against the number of steps to the gun rack in the hall. Jamie eased closer, and I saw a flash of brushed metal peeking out from the waistband of his jeans. A handgun, the kind I’d seen only on TV.
“We need to go now,” he said.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” My voice sounded wispy, unconvincing.
Jamie held up his arms like he was surrendering. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the gun, and he realized that I had noticed it. Slowly, he lowered one hand and slid the weapon from his waistband, repositioning it at his back, out of sight, as if that would ease my fears.
“Just listen, okay?” I couldn’t do much else; my feet were not convinced that I should run. “I have a business meeting I thought you’d be interested in. You remember the guy I told you about? Well, he decided he wants some of my inventory. And he don’t want to pay for it. So he offered up a trade, a pretty little girl with long white hair, all mine for one evening only. Because she’s such a prized *, she’ll soon be moving to larger markets. His words.” He watched for my reaction. Holly had to be that white-haired girl: at fourteen, barely more than a child. “The meeting,” Jamie continued, “is at your uncle’s house.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked him. “What do you care about helping that girl?”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple dipping and rising in slow motion. “It’s not her,” he mumbled. “It’s you.”
“You want to help me?”
He looked away uncomfortably. “You ever have the same dream over and over? Like it won’t leave you be? Like it’s trying to tell you something?”
I watched him expectantly, waiting for more.
“Forget it,” he said. “Just returning a favor, I guess.”
Jamie didn’t owe me anything. Our exchange on the riverbank, when we kissed, had been an even one. There was a possibility that he was lying to me, luring me into any number of undesirable situations, but when he met my gaze, I saw something there and knew he was telling the truth.
“Let’s go,” he said, and I followed him out the door.
Jamie had left his souped-up Charger just out of sight, around a bend in the road. Save the vinyl upholstery on the seats, the interior of the car was stripped to a bare metal skeleton. The engine roared so lustily that my internal organs buzzed with its vibration, and together Jamie and I sped toward Crete’s house beneath rapidly darkening clouds.
I hollered to be heard over the engine. “What do we do when we get there?”
“You don’t do anything but stay out of sight. If he leaves me alone with the girl, we throw her in the car and haul ass.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
He glanced at me, his hair swirling in his face. “You’re smart,” he said. “I figured you’d think of something.”
Honeysuckle bushes crowded the narrow road as we neared the turnoff to Crete’s. He would be heading home from Dane’s soon, if he were on his normal schedule. My nerves jangled, but Jamie maintained the drowsy expression he always wore, like he wasn’t the least bit scared by what we were about to do.
“You should get down,” he said. “Stay hid unless I need you.”
I crouched on the floorboards, wondering how I’d know if he needed me and what I would do if he did. I had nothing prepared, no magic spells, no plans. Jamie parked the car and unloaded something from the trunk. Emory greeted him—I recognized the voice from the time he’d yelled at me and Daniel by Mrs. Stoddard’s trailer—and Jamie, not much for social graces, moved right into negotiations.
“It’s a lot of product,” he said. “You know it’s worth more than a fuck.”
“You’ll change your mind when you see her,” Emory said. “Besides, it’s in your interest for us to develop a working relationship. There’s give and take, but you gotta consider the long term. What’s in it for you.”
Silence while Jamie pretended to think about it. “So how does this work?”
Emory laughed, a harsh scraping sound. “Don’t tell me you never had a whore, boy. I can see that’s a lie.”
Jamie, unruffled: “I just meant, do we trade up front? You take the stuff, and I take the girl to my place for a few hours?”
“Well, no.” Emory’s laugh dried up. “You’re not taking her anywhere. You come in and do your business, and I’ll be here, making sure you mind your manners.”
“How do I know I can trust you once I hand over my part and walk into that house? No offense, you understand. But I could be walking into a bullet.”
“Trust takes time, son, I get that. Trust’ll come from working together for our mutual benefit. But right now we both need what the other’s got. So what can I do to put you at ease and get this deal done?”
“I wanna see her,” Jamie said. “The girl. Bring her out so I know she’s really in there. That she’s everything you said.”
Emory groaned. Plainly, he wasn’t used to accommodating demands. “All right,” he said. “I’ll give you an eyeful. And you can give me a sample of your wares there. Insurance for both of us.”
I heard the door to the house open and close. Jamie stepped back and leaned against the car. “Get ready,” he murmured. The gun was nestled in his waistband at the small of his back, hidden by his shirt. I hadn’t gotten a look at Emory, but he surely had a weapon, too.
The door slammed again. Emory’s voice, off to the side: “I’ll help myself to that sample now. Go on and have your look.”
“Jesus,” Jamie muttered. “She even old enough for titties?”
I raised my head high enough to peer out the window, and there she was, behind the screen door, real and not real, Holly and not Holly. She swayed like a puppet on a string. I threw open the car door and sprinted toward the house.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Emory howled, registering who I was.
If Holly was confused or scared or grateful when I yanked open the screen door, I couldn’t tell. Her eyes rolled, and she slumped against me as I reached for her, her body light and malleable. I locked my arms around her rib cage and pulled her out of the house. When I turned around, Emory stood in my way. Behind him, Jamie had drawn his gun, but he held it at his side, waiting to see what I would do.
“What the hell, little girl?” Emory said. “Crete know you’re out here?”
Wind gathered in the surrounding trees, shuffling the leaves and building into a low mournful keening. It swept over us with an unexpected chill. “I called the state troopers,” I lied. “You want to clear out, go now.”
His eyes narrowed, nearly hidden by tufted gray brows. “You wouldn’t turn in your own uncle.”
“Not without warning,” I said. “He’s already left town.” I didn’t know the strength of their bond, didn’t know if he’d believe his partner would turn on him to survive. With each passing moment, Crete drove closer. If his truck pulled into the driveway, everything would fall apart.
Emory’s arm sliced through the air and dealt a backhand smack to my face, his knuckles smashing into my cheekbone. My grip faltered, and Holly sagged to the ground, a pale puddle at my feet. Jamie lunged toward us, but Emory was already on the run, slowing down just enough to grab the box Jamie had brought and toss it into the van. He peeled out, heading for the compound at Caney Mountain, I guessed, or maybe straight out of town. I wondered how much time we had before he called my uncle.
We had to go. Jamie and I hustled Holly to the car and laid her in the backseat. Her lips moved as though speaking, but not in a voice we could hear. Likewise, her eyes flitted to things we couldn’t see. She was drugged, adrift, her hair sliding across her face like a veil.
“Shit,” Jamie hissed as we piled into the front seat. “She’s a fucking kid, for Christ’s sake!”
Lightning stripped the world of color in one vivid pop. If thunder followed, it was lost in the rev of the engine as Jamie launched us down the road. Rain pecked the windshield, slow at first, then relentless, a barrage of firecrackers. We rolled up the windows.
“She should see a doctor,” I said.
“We’ll take her to Birdie’s.”
“No.” There was a good chance Crete would find out what had happened from Emory, or that he’d piece things together on his own, and I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt when he came for me. “The hospital in Mountain Home.”
“We can’t take her there.” Panic edged into Jamie’s voice. “I can’t drive some drugged-up kid across state lines. What do you think’ll happen? What the fuck are you gonna say when we sign her in?”
He was right. “Take her to Sarah Cole’s, then. You know where she lives?”
He nodded, biting his lip. We bumped off the gravel onto the main road. The blacktop steamed in the rain. Headlights ghosted by, but I couldn’t make out the vehicle through the downpour. We watched the mirror nervously but saw no lights behind us.
“Drop me at my house,” I said. He shot me a confused glance but didn’t object. “I’ll meet you at Sarah’s as soon as I can. Just keep Holly safe.” I placed my hand on his arm. His biceps twitched, and he made a loose turn onto Toad Holler Road, the car skidding and correcting as he braked and regained speed.