Carnal Innocence (35 page)

“It wasn’t your mother, it was Burke.” He walked to her, putting his arms around her as much to brace himself as Caroline. “Darleen Talbot’s missing.” He stared at their reflections again, in the shadowed window. Through a glass darkly, he thought, and shut his eyes. “We’ll start the search at first light.”

“I
wish you’d try to get some more sleep.” Tucker stood by, frustrated, while Caroline used a woman’s tools to disguise the results of a long, restless night.

“I couldn’t.” She dabbed more concealer under her eyes and blended. “I’d just sit around and wait for the phone to ring.”

“Go down to Sweetwater.” He stood behind her, watching her in the tiny bathroom mirror. Despite the circumstances, he felt an odd and powerful sense of intimacy at sharing this private space, being a witness to this ageless female ritual. “Take a nap in my hammock.”

“Tucker, don’t worry about me. It’s Darleen we all should be concerned about. And the Fullers—Junior. That little baby. God.” Struggling to hold on, she stabbed the mascara brush in and out of the tube. “How could this happen?”

“We’re not sure anything happened yet. She might have just run off somewhere. Billy T. said he hadn’t seen her, but after Junior walloped him, he’d be apt to lie if he had.”

“Then why did she leave her car on the side of the road?”

They’d been over this again and again. “Maybe she was going to meet somebody. That stretch is pretty lonely. She could have left her car and gone off with somebody else just to give Junior a bad night or two.”

“I hope you’re right.” She dragged a comb through her hair, then turned. “I hope to God you’re right, because if you’re not, it might be like the others. And if it is, that would mean that—”

“Don’t take it any further until it has to go there.” Gently, he curled his fingers around her forearms. “Day to day, remember?”

“I’m trying.” She leaned against him a moment. The tiny room was still steamy from their shower. Outside the single high window, first light was blooming. “If my mother’s right, the press should be here before the day’s over. I can deal with that.” On a long breath she pulled back. “I can. But I feel I have to go to the Fullers to offer Happy some sort of support. I’m not sure I can deal with that.”

“There’ll be plenty of others there for her. You don’t have to go.”

“I do. I can be an outsider, or I can belong. It comes down to how you treat others, doesn’t it?”

Hadn’t he said something very similar to Cy just the day before? It was hard to argue with yourself. “I’ll come by when I can. If I can.”

She nodded, glancing out the doorway when she heard the toot of a horn. “That’s probably Burke. It’s nearly dawn.”

“I’d better go, then.”

“Tucker.” She took his shirt-sleeve when he turned away, then kissed him. Soft, quiet, comforting. “That’s all.”

He rested his cheek on hers for one last moment. “That’s enough.”

Though it was still shy of eight
A.M
. when Caroline arrived at the Fullers’, Happy wasn’t alone. Friends and family had closed ranks. There was coffee brewing to replace the pots already consumed. Though no one
thought of food, women gathered in the kitchen, that time-honored space of comfort.

Caroline hesitated in the doorway, beyond the murmur of conversation, the circle of support and worry and reassurances. She recognized the faces: Susie jiggling Scooter on her hip, Josie standing, restless, by the back door, Toby’s wife, Winnie, rinsing out cups in the sink, Birdie Shays stationed staunchly beside Happy, Marvella quietly ripping apart a paper napkin.

The sense of intrusion was so great, Caroline nearly turned around and walked out again. It was Josie who saw her, who offered her a tired smile of understanding.

“Caroline. You look like a whipped dog. Come on in and we’ll pump you full of coffee.”

“I just …” She looked helplessly from one woman to the other. “I wanted to stop by and see if there was anything I could do.”

“Nothing but wait.” Happy held out a hand. Reaching for it, Caroline stepped into the circle.

So they waited, in a melding of perfumes and soft voices, with talk about children and men and a baby’s restless crying. Della joined them mid-morning, with jangling jewelry and a basket of sandwiches. She bullied Happy into eating half of one, scolded Josie for making the coffee too strong, and quieted Scooter by giving him one of her bright plastic bracelets to chew on.

“That child’s got muddy diapers,” she declared. “I can scent ’em a mile off.”

“I’ll change him.” Susie picked him up off the floor, where he was busy banging Della’s bracelet on the tile. “He’s tired, too. Aren’t you tired, little man? I’ll just put him down in the daybed, Happy.”

“He likes that little yellow teddy bear,” Happy told her, pressing her trembling lips together. “Darleen left it for him yesterday.”

“Why don’t you find it for her, Happy?” Della shot Birdie a warning look before the woman could protest. “She needs something to do,” Della said quietly when Happy went out. “Worrying’ll eat her up. We all need something. Birdie, see if you can find the makings for one of your Jell-O parfaits. That’ll go down cool by
afternoon. Marvella, you stop wringing your hands and use ’em to squeeze some lemons. We’ll have lemonade instead of this goddamn coffee. Winnie, I think you should mix up one of your potions for Happy. Get her to sleep awhile.”

“I thought about it, Miss Della. I didn’t believe she’d drink it.”

Della smiled grimly. “She will if I tell her to. That woman’s been going head to head with me for years, but I’ve been holding back. Josie, you and Caroline clean up these dishes.”

“A woman as bossy as you ought to have a platoon of marines to order around.” Even as she complained, Josie stacked dishes.

Now there was purpose in the room as well as a sense of unity. Caroline found herself smiling at Della. “How can I get to be you when I grow up?”

Highly pleased, Della fussed with the big gold buttons of her blouse. “Why, child, you just learn how to use your mean. We all got it, but not everybody knows how to use it constructive like.”

“Happy’s other girls ought to be here,” Birdie said, slamming cupboard doors. “They ought to.”

“You know they’ll come if there’s need. Marvella, is that how your mama taught you to squeeze a lemon? Bear down, girl.” Satisfied, Della began to rewrap uneaten sandwiches. “Those girls got families, Birdie. Jobs and homes of their own. Wouldn’t it be foolish of them to travel all this way if Darleen’s just kicking up her heels?”

“Miss Della?” Winnie sprinkled herbs into a pot on the stove. Her hands were small and dainty. She was a quiet women, given more to doing than to talking. But when she spoke, her voice was cool and smooth, like cream. “I’m going to brew this up like a tea. I ain’t making it strong, just enough to ease.”

“Let’s have a look.” Della joined her at the stove, where they muttered and sniffed. Birdie ignored their conversation. As a doctor’s wife, she didn’t think it quite proper for her to approve of folk medicines.

“There’s nothing more I can do here.” Josie wiped
her hands dry on a tea towel. “I’m going out to hunt around some myself.”

“There’s more than a dozen men taking care of that,” Birdie said. Her tone was sharp enough to have Josie lift a brow, but Birdie had to put her frustration somewhere.

“Men don’t always know best where to look for a woman.” Josie picked up her purse. “I’m going to check on Cousin Lulu first, Della, then I’m going to ride over to see Billy T. If he knows anything, he’d be more likely to tell me than he would a man.”

“Don’t see as that’s anything to brag on,” Della muttered.

Josie shrugged. “Fact’s a fact. Besides, Happy’s better off knowing whatever there is to know sooner rather than later. She’ll make herself sick if this goes on too long.”

No one could think of an argument to that. She left by the back door. Moments later they heard the roar of her car engine springing to life.

“If that Billy T. knows where Darleen took off to—” Birdie began.

“If he does, Josie’ll find out sure as God made little green apples.” Della handed Winnie a cup for the sedative she’d brewed.

“He went off to sleep just like an angel,” Happy said as she walked back into the room. Her famous smile was ragged at the edges. “Not a thing like his mama. Why, she used to fight sleep like it was Satan come to steal her soul. I must’ve walked a million miles of floor with …” Rubbing at her eyes, she trailed off.

“You sit on down here, Priscilla,” Della ordered, using Happy’s given name to get her moving. “This is just making you sick, is all.” Using her big, broad hands, she pushed Happy into a chair. “You let us do the worrying awhile. Nobody better at it than a room full of women. Winnie, bring me that cup.”

“It’s a might hot, Miz Fuller. You gotta blow on it first.” Winnie set the cup in front of her, then stayed, resting a hand on the back of the chair. Winnie had gone to school with Happy’s eldest daughter, and Belle Fuller
had been the first white girl ever to invite Winnie into her home to play with dolls.

“What is it?”

“It’s what’s good for you,” Della said, and waved Winnie aside.

“I don’t want one of Winnie’s magic potions,” she said petulantly. “I’m not sick, I’m just—”

“Scared and miserable,” Della finished. “By the look of you, you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. You know Winnie wouldn’t give you anything wasn’t helpful. You drink up now and get some rest.”

“What I need is coffee.” When Happy started to rise, Della shoved her back.

“Now you listen to me. Being stubborn’s not gonna change a thing. God willing, your Darleen’ll be back here preening herself over the ruckus she caused. But right now you’ve got a child upstairs sleeping who’s going to need you one way or the other. What good can you do him if you’re worn out.”

“I just want her back.” When the tears started, she laid her head against Della’s cushioning breast. “I just want my girl back. I was so hard on her, Della.”

“You never gave her nothing she didn’t need.”

“She was always so fretful. Even as a baby, the minute she got one thing she wanted something else. I wanted what was best for her, but I never could seem to find it.”

Needing to help, Caroline stepped forward. “Here, Happy.” She lifted the cup. “Drink a little.”

Happy took a swallow, then two, before grabbing Caroline’s hand. “She doesn’t think I love her, but I do. Somehow you always love in a special way the one who gives you the most grief. All I can think is that when she was here yesterday, wanting me to side with her about what happened with Junior and that Bonny boy, I couldn’t do it. She was wrong. Darleen never could figure out what was right and what was wrong, but she came here wanting her mother to stick up for her. And I didn’t. We just ended up fighting like always, with her stomping off. I didn’t even watch her drive away.”

She began to sob then, and Della rocked her and stroked
her hair. Susie had come back in to put her arm around Marvella.

“Those other girls.” Happy’s fingers convulsed on Caroline’s. “Oh, sweet Jesus, I keep thinking about those other girls.”

“Hush now.” Della lifted the cup to Happy’s lips. “Aren’t they saying that was Austin, and he’s dead as a doornail. Why, Caroline here shot him in the head, and every woman in Innocence is grateful to her. Except maybe Mavis Hatinger, and she would be if she had a lick of sense. Now, you come on with me, darling. I’m going to take you up for a nice lie-down.”

“Just for a little while.” With Winnie’s brew making her eyelids heavy, Happy let Della lead her out of the kitchen.

“Oh, Mama.” Marvella turned into Susie’s shoulder to weep.

“Shush now, don’t you start.” But Susie patted her back. “We don’t know that any thing’s happened.”

“We have to have faith,” Winnie added. “And while we’re having it, I’m going to fix some food in case others come by. I’ll fry up some chicken.”

“Good.” Susie gave Marvella a last pat. “Honey, you peel some potatoes and put them on to boil for potato salad. No use anybody going hungry. No telling how long we’ll have to wait.”

Tucker stood on the banks of Gooseneck Creek and wiped his damp face with a bandanna. The temperature had soared to a hundred and two with the air so thick it felt as if you could grab a fistful and wring it out. The sky was a pale blue, bleached by the merciless white sun.

He imagined himself taking a quick, relieving dunk in the water. The picture helped a little, but he settled for soaking his bandanna in the creek and cooling his face and neck.

He remembered that Arnette had been found here—by Darleen’s brother. While he was hunkered down, Tucker took time to say a prayer.

Please God, don’t let me find her.

Someone would, he was sure. He’d discounted the hopeful theory that she’d taken off with someone. It didn’t make sense. She hadn’t had time to hook up with anyone but Billy T., and he, along with all of her women friends, insisted he hadn’t heard from her.

Tucker believed him. Male pride was at stake. Billy T. wasn’t likely to take up with a woman whose husband had bested him with a frying pan. Darleen hadn’t been of particular importance to Billy T. One woman was the same as another to him.

The inevitable comparison with himself left Tucker with a bad taste in his mouth.

Darleen hadn’t left her car on the side of the road during a thunderstorm to hop into another with some new lover or new friend. Not when Junior claimed none of her clothes were missing, and that the housekeeping money was still tucked away in the coffee can, where she’d kept it.

Someone would find her, Tucker thought again. And again he prayed it would be someone else.

He rose to move among the reeds. His part of the search party was ranged along the banks, slopping through the weeds and mud, hoping, Tucker was sure, that they found nothing but some old beer bottles and maybe a used condom.

They were all armed, which made him a little edgy. Junior had already blasted away a water moccasin. Since it had seemed to make him feel better, no one had commented.

The fact was, there was very little conversation. The men worked silently, like soldiers setting up an ambush. Or walking into one. One of the helicopters called up from County swept by now and again, chopping at the hot air, and the two-way radios each group leader carried on their belts would squawk and buzz with talk or static. The FBI was holding back from taking over. But then, they didn’t know Innocence or its people. Burns was convinced Darleen was just another dissatisfied wife who’d taken off for greener pastures.