Blood Wounds (8 page)

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling my cheeks blush with embarrassment. "I mean it. I really am. Please forgive me."

Faye shook her head. "Willa, sweetie, we all love you and we want to help you get through all this, but you're not the only one suffering around here. Mavis Coffey may be a mean old witch, but even she doesn't deserve this kind of pain, and you may not know Crystal's family, but I do, and they're good, decent folk. Everyone in town is grieving for them. We knew those sweet little girls Budge slashed to death, and he killed us a little bit along with them. So stop dreaming about family reunions and people showing you the love. I'll show you plenty because I've known you since before you were born and your momma is closer to me than my own sister, but to everyone else, you're Budge Coffey's daughter. The lucky one. The one that got away."

"Look," Pauline said, "I don't have to go to Santa Fe. I'll stick around here for the week, if it's all right with you, Faye. The sofa will suit me fine, and then Willa will have company while you're working."

"No," I said. "Pauline, you should see your friends for a few days. And, Faye, you're right, and I really am sorry. I haven't been thinking about anyone but me. I'll see the lawyer, and then I'll do some schoolwork. I brought stuff with me, and it'd be a mistake for me to fall too far behind."

"Good," Faye said. "That's settled. Now eat your toast and get dressed, and we'll go to Sam's and see what's what."

"S
AM, THIS IS
MY GODDAUGHTER,
" Faye said an hour later, "Willa Coffey. And this is her friend Pauline Henderson, who came with her from Pennsylvania. Willa, Pauline, this is Sam Whalen, the best lawyer in Maynard County."

"She has to say that," Sam said. "I sign her paycheck."

"It's true anyway," Faye said. "I wouldn't be bringing Willa to you if it wasn't."

Sam gestured for us to sit down. I took the chair opposite him, and Pauline and Faye sat on either side of me.

"It's very nice of you to see me," I said. "Faye thinks it's a good idea for me to have a lawyer."

"Everyone should have a lawyer," Sam said. "Otherwise we lawyers would go out of business."

We all laughed, but it wasn't like this morning. It was a polite laughter.

"Faye's told me a bit about your situation," Sam said. "And of course, I know some of the rest. Your momma married a man named McDougal when you were a little girl, but he never adopted you. That right?"

"He would have if he could," I said, "but..." And suddenly I didn't know what to call him. Dwayne? Budge? My father? "He couldn't," I finished. "I feel like Jack's my father, though."

Sam nodded. "You're a lucky girl that way," he said. "But as far as the government's concerned, you're Dwayne Coffey's daughter, for better or worse."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Pauline asked.

"Well, for one thing it means Willa's entitled to Social Security benefits," Sam said. "Assuming Dwayne held on to a taxpaying job long enough to put in to the system."

"He worked at the tannery," Faye said. "On and off since high school, and steady since he got sober and found God. That would have been six, seven years by now."

"Well, it won't be much," Sam said. "But Willa's entitled to whatever the benefits are."

"What about Trace?" I asked. "Will I be sharing with him?"

"Trace's Dwayne's boy," Faye said. "Dwayne never married his momma, if that makes any difference."

"No difference at all," Sam said, "as long as Dwayne is listed on the birth certificate as his father. Is he older than Willa or younger?"

"Older," Faye said. "He must be eighteen by now."

"Then he's probably too old for the benefits," Sam said. "Eighteen's the cutoff unless you're still in high school. Now, you'll need your birth certificate. Did you bring yours with you?"

I shook my head. "My mother must have it," I said.

"If she doesn't, she can certainly get a copy," Sam said. "We'll need Dwayne's death certificate also." He wrote something down on a piece of paper.

"Should I be asking for the Social Security?" I asked. "I mean, I didn't know him. Dwayne. I haven't seen him since I was four."

"You're entitled to it," Sam said. "As long as Dwayne paid in to the system. No reason to turn down money the government owes you."

"When the adoption goes through, the Social Security will stop, right?" Pauline asked.

Sam nodded. "So Jack might want to hold off until Willa's eighteen," he said. "Or graduates high school. It's waited this long, it could wait a couple more years."

"I'm not sure Jack will see it that way," Pauline said. "But it is something to consider."

"Now, I don't know if Dwayne left a will," Sam said. "He wasn't my client, but I'll ask around. If he did and he left everything to his wife, then most likely what there is will be divided equally between Willa and Trace."

"There couldn't be that much," Faye said. "He and Crystal had a cute little house, but the bank probably owns more of it than they did."

"Was Dwayne a veteran?" Sam asked.

Faye shook her head.

Sam wrote
veteran
on his pad and crossed it out. "That way I'll remember not to look into it," he said. "Social Security'll make a payment for funeral expenses. Do you know who's going to be making the arrangements?"

"Most likely Mavis Coffey," Faye said. "But you know, the way Budge died, I don't think she'll be making much of a fuss."

"I don't want his money," I said. "Maybe Trace could get it."

"It's going to be more headaches than money anyway," Sam said. "First his debts'll have to be paid off. The house. The car. The charge cards. We need to check if the house is still officially a crime scene. If Willa can get in, she might want to take a memento or two."

"There's nothing I want," I said.

"We should still make an inventory," Sam said. "Crystal might have left behind some trinkets."

"I don't understand," Pauline said. "Wouldn't Crystal's things go to her family?"

"Depends on her will," Sam said. "Assuming she made one, and it won't surprise me if she didn't. But if she left everything to her little girls, or if she never got around to making a will, then as long as one of those little girls survived her, that child inherited whatever there is. If the court determines Krissi was the last in her family to die, she'd be regarded as Crystal's heir and Willa and Trace would then inherit from her."

"Have you seen an autopsy report?" Pauline asked. "Do they know for sure that Krissi was alive when Dwayne left Pryor?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm going by what I saw on TV," he said. "If the autopsy's been released, I haven't heard about it." He wrote another note.

"What are you saying?" I asked. "If Krissi was still alive when Budge left, then Trace and I inherit Crystal's things?"

Sam nodded. "It goes from Crystal to her daughters, and from her daughters to you and Trace," he said. "Unless Crystal made a will leaving everything to someone else, her parents or her sisters and brothers. For that matter, we should check to see if the little girls had anything. Sometimes people give babies bonds or a little bit of money. That'd go directly to you and Trace, since there's no will involved."

"That's sick," I said. "My father killed them. Crystal and the girls. I never once laid my eyes on them and my father stabbed them to death, and I'm supposed to take their jewelry and their savings accounts?"

"There's no difference between your taking them and Trace," Sam said.

"It
is
different," I said. "Trace knew them. They're nothing to me. I didn't even know they existed until I heard they were dead. How can I possibly be entitled to their things?"

"It's the law," Sam said. "Same as Social Security. The law's there so we know what the rules are. Without rules, we'd run around fighting each other, not caring what anybody thinks. Sometimes rules can seem arbitrary, and sometimes unfair, but they give us our boundaries, and we need to respect them."

"My father didn't follow the rules," I said. "He was a monster. He broke all the rules. He killed his children. There's blood everywhere because of him. How can the rules be right if, thanks to him, I get money or jewelry or anything?"

"It isn't a question of right and wrong," Sam said. "Of course what Dwayne did was wrong. And if you and your mother decide you shouldn't take anything, then you can refuse your inheritance and it can all go to Trace. But I'd be remiss as a lawyer if I didn't tell you what your rights are. And as your lawyer, I'm going to make sure to find out what there is to inherit, and that it goes to you, for you to decide what to do with. Once you know what there is, what you're legally entitled to, you can decide whether to give your share to Trace or to Crystal's parents or to anybody else you want. But the rules have to be followed, Willa. That's just the way it is."

"Is there anything else?" Pauline asked.

"With all those reporters around, someone might want to talk to Willa," Sam said. "Maybe even make her an offer for her story."

"Her parents would never approve of that," Pauline said. "Never."

"Willa, do you feel the same way?" Sam asked.

"There's nothing I could tell," I said. "I'm here for my sisters' funerals. I don't know anything about Dwayne, about any of them."

"If any reporters come sniffing, we'll send them to you," Faye said. "And you can tell them to go to hell for us."

Sam grinned. "That's one of the things lawyers do best," he said. "All right, Willa. You'll ask your mother about your birth certificate and I'll see what I can do about getting copies of Dwayne's death certificate, and find out if they've determined when Krissi died, and if Dwayne or Crystal made out wills. Do you have any questions?"

"Did you know him?" I asked. "Dwayne. I was wondering if you'd ever met him."

"There are three ways people know each other in this town," Sam said. "School, church, and bars. Dwayne was pretty well known in all those places, so yeah, I knew him, like I know a lot of people around here. I knew Crystal too. I went to school with her mother. There's nobody here who isn't grieving, Willa. But none of that is your fault. Dwayne had his reasons. God had His. You're here because you need to be here, to pay tribute to those sweet little sisters you never had the chance to know. Trust me to do what I do best, looking out for the interests of my clients. Faye here will see to it that I do my job, so you'll have one less thing to deal with. All right?"

"All right," I said, rising from the chair. "And thank you. I know I'm driving everyone crazy. I don't seem to be able to stop myself. Back home—well, I'm a different person back home. Quiet. Nice, I think. But the past few days, I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. So I keep saying the wrong thing and doing the wrong thing, and I can't help it. I'm really sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Sam said. "Not to me, at any rate. Just trust me to do my job. Deal?"

"Deal," I said. "And thank you."

P
AULINE LEFT AFTER
we got back to Faye's. She offered to stay until after lunch, but she had a long drive ahead of her and I told her to go.

Then I urged Faye to go back to her office. "I'll be fine," I said. "I ought to call home and start on my homework."

"I'll call you later," Faye said. "And don't be shy about calling me."

"I won't. I promise," I said.

Moe gave Faye a nudge as she left. I went up to my room and, while I sat on the bed, Curly emerged from the closet to keep me company.

I stared at the yearbook pictures of my mother and Budge. I stared at my textbooks. I stared at the quilt, at Curly on the quilt.

Finally I pulled out my cell phone and called home. There was no answer, so I called Mom's cell, but she didn't answer that either.

I felt the now familiar wave of panic wash over me. Somehow, somewhere, my whole family had vanished and I was left alone in Pryor. It was my punishment for being defiant. If I couldn't be Quiet-Never-Make-A-Fuss Willa, Mom and Jack, Brooke and Alyssa, wanted no part of me.

I couldn't even blame them. Quiet-Never-Make-A-Fuss Willa was gone, replaced by the self-pitying, scene-making daughter of a...

I couldn't bring myself to define Budge, to put a label on him. Because whatever he was, I was his daughter, and whether I loved him or not, whether I even knew him or not, he was a part of me, so entwined with my body and my soul that he could never be disentangled.

If Jack had been able to adopt me, would I be sitting on this bed, staring at Dwayne Coffey's high school picture? If I'd had as much right as Brooke and Alyssa to call Jack Daddy, would I have truly believed he loved me as much as he loved them?

We're a happy family,
I said to myself, closing the yearbook and piling it on top of the others.
We have to be.
Because if I didn't have that to believe in, then I had nothing left at all.

M
Y CELL RANG.
I answered it. It was Mom, I told myself, or maybe Jack.

But it was Faye. "How're you doing?" she asked. "Hard at work?"

I'd spent so much of my life claiming things were fine when they weren't that it surprised me to hear the truth come from my mouth. "No," I said. "I haven't even tried."

Faye laughed. "At least you're honest about it," she said. "I have a couple of things to tell you. First off, you don't have to worry about the house and the bank and mortgages. Turns out Budge and Crystal rented. I had a nice talk with Harry Norris—he owns the house—and he said the police are all through with it, and since the rent's paid up till the end of the month, you have plenty of time to go there, look through the things, and make up your mind about what you might want. He said the police did a pretty good job cleaning up, but you can tell something awful happened, so you should be prepared."

"I don't want any of their things," I said.

"Still, you should go through it," Faye said. "Budge's grandma will probably track Trace down so he can get his share, but you're here, so you might as well take what you want. Harry's going to drop the key off later and you can go over tomorrow."