Dangerous Lies (31 page)

“When the methadone didn’t work, she reverted back to heroin. She lost so much weight she was almost unrecognizable. She stopped eating, showering, or leaving the house, except to party with Sandy. She refused to get out of bed unless it was to get more drugs. Over time, her partying isolated her from me. She wasn’t there when I needed her. She broke every promise she made. It got to the point that I was so scared, I called my grandparents—her parents. That made things worse. She got really angry and wouldn’t talk to me. Her parents put her in rehab, but the center told us going in that withdrawal is extremely painful and that she’d probably relapse. She did.”

“How many times did she go to rehab?”

“This is her third.”

“In my whole time as a cop, I only saw a handful of abusers recover. Drugs bring out the bad in people. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that addiction is a disease—it doesn’t define the person who’s suffering. Behind the addiction is a real person, a human who deserves respect.”

I shook my head fiercely. “Don’t take away her accountability. She chose this life. She had me, but she chose drugs. She’s a coward. I don’t ever want to be weak like her.”

“She needs your faith, Stella.”

“You think I should believe that this time she’ll get better,” I said, my spine stiffening. Was Carmina listening? This was my mother’s third attempt. The longer she stayed on drugs, the harder it was to quit. I’d given up on her. It hurt too much to care. When you cared, you had something to lose all right.

“Before believing comes faith. Before faith comes hope.”

“I don’t want to hope.”

“Because it hurts?”

I couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. My lip quivered and my throat burned. When I spoke, my words sounded thick and fragile. “It hurts when she lets me down. It hurts knowing drugs are more important to her than me.”

“It’s easier to ignore her, wish her away. If she doesn’t exist, she can’t hurt you.”

“Yes,” I choked.

“Oh, Stella. My sweet Stella.” She gathered me into her arms and rocked me while I cried.

When the worst of my tears had subsided, I said, “Before she called today, I’d actually given some thought to calling her.” Sniffing, I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “I thought it would make me feel better to tell her I don’t hate her anymore, and that I’m ready to move on. I can’t decide if that makes me stupid or just naive.”

“
Brave
, Stella. That’s what it makes you.”

“I don’t want her to think I’m weak or that I caved. She wants me to call back. I don’t want to give her what she wants.”

“What about what you want? Why not look at it that way?”

I considered this. I wanted to be brave. I wanted to heal. Most of all, I wanted Carmina to be proud of me.

I said, “Why did you take me in? Why would you do that? You didn’t know me. You didn’t owe me anything.”

“Well,” she said, “the short answer is, because they asked me.”

“The long answer?”

“I suppose you should know I was appointed to the U.S. Marshals Service when I was thirty-four. I was getting ready to head to Glynco, Georgia, for basic training. Training was seventeen weeks long, and Angie, my daughter, was going to stay with Thomas and Hannah Falconer while I was away. Days before I left, I found out Angie was pregnant. She was fifteen and due in six months. Well, I stayed. I took care of her, then I took care of Nathaniel. Never ended up a U.S. marshal. But I must have stayed on their radar, because they called me and said they needed me to take in a girl who’d been placed in witness protection, keep her safe for the summer.”

“You sacrificed your own success to take care of your family, and then you gave up your retirement to take me in.”

“You make me sound like a good woman, Stella. But I figured it out too late. A few years too late,” she echoed. “It was hope that kept me afloat in those dark weeks after Angie ran away. Hope that I could change. Hope that she’d someday forgive me.”

Even though my eyes felt raw, tears surged back. “I don’t want to hope. I’m terrified my mom will prove me wrong. She’s let me down too many times. That night—the night I went into WITSEC—I swore it would be the last.”

“Tell me about that night. Tell me the worst of it. Get it all out. Tell me, then let it go.”

I wanted to tell her. I wanted it more than anything. To let go of the poison and move on? It was all I thought about. But I was afraid. The fear and shame and guilt coiled around me like a snake ready to strike. If Carmina knew what really happened that night, if she learned what I did, I was terrified she wouldn’t like me anymore.

She’d turn her back on me. And hand me over to the authorities.

BEFORE WORK I STOPPED BY
RadioShack. After a little searching, I found a cheap, no-frills, pay-by-the-minute phone.

The guy working the register scanned the bar code, whistling appreciatively. “Got yourself a real dinosaur here.”

“I’m on a budget.”

“You said it. Anything else?”

“Yeah, how much would a cell phone plan for an iPhone cost?”

“Looking at around seventy a month.”

“Is an Android any cheaper?”

“Same ballpark.”

I calculated a rough sum of my saved tips. Maybe it was better to hold off getting a cell phone plan until my birthday, when I left Thunder Basin and settled somewhere permanently. Recently, I hadn’t given much thought to how my life would change after I turned eighteen, but here it was a few days shy of August. I’d served over half my time in Thunder Basin, and while the realization should have thrilled me, I felt a strange pang of misgiving. In four weeks, I would be leaving Thunder Basin for good, and I hadn’t told Chet. Nor had I discussed my plans with Carmina. I cared about them both deeply, and didn’t look forward to saying good-bye, but the rational part of me knew Thunder Basin wasn’t my final destination. Maybe it was the kind of place Stella Gordon could settle down in, but changing my name didn’t erase Estella Goodwinn from my blood. Could I feel complete here, content? Or was I destined for bigger, better things? I’d always clung to the fantasy of running away with Reed and starting our life over together, of having him nearby to take care of me, but that was no longer an option. Nor was I sure I’d want it if I could have it. This summer had changed me.

I wanted to find my own way.

*  *  *

At work, we were short staffed. Inny had called in sick, and Dixie Jo was on the phone frantically trying to reach Deirdre to see if she could help out through the dinner rush.

“Any luck?” I asked, peeking my head in her office.

“No.” Dixie Jo rubbed her temples. “And this on a Saturday night, of all the bad luck.”

“I’ll do my best to keep up with the cars.”

“Oh, I know you will. That’s not what’s bothering me. It’s Inny,” she admitted. “I can’t reach her. She called and left the message hours ago telling me she was sick. She left a message on the machine. It isn’t like Inny. She’d tell me to my face she wasn’t up for a shift. She’d offer to help find a sub. I can’t shake the feeling she’s avoiding me on purpose. Now, why would she do that?”

“She’s due any day now,” I reminded her. I had a baby gift at home ready to take to Inny the minute I heard she’d gone to the hospital. “Do you think she went into labor?”

“Thought of that and called the hospital. She hasn’t checked in. She isn’t answering her cell phone. What if she’s on some lonely road, in the back of her car, trying to deliver the baby herself?”

“Would she do that?”

“She’s worried she can’t pay the hospital bills.” Another temple squeeze. “She’s picked up extra shifts for months now, saving up. Her parents don’t support the pregnancy, said they’d have nothing to do with her if she kept the baby. Even threatened not to pay the bills. Legally they’d have to, of course, but it’s a matter of pride now. Inny won’t accept their help. If she’s afraid she can’t afford the hospital, I wouldn’t put it past her to deliver the baby in a field. Anything but ask her parents for money. She should’ve come to me. I
told
her to come to me.”

“She wouldn’t do that.” In the two months I’d known Inny, I’d never seen her ask for help. Even with swollen ankles and her belly protruding to the point where she looked like she’d swallowed a beach ball, she refused to sit down for a breather at the end of the night and let me fill her salt and pepper shakers. She was bound and determined to do everything herself.

“Foolish girl,” Dixie Jo snapped. She pushed out of her chair, pacing the office. “Stubborn, pigheaded girl.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I need to be alone, Stella. I need to think where she’d go to have this baby.”

“I can help you look. Now or after my shift. Just tell me what you want me to do.” I was worried about Inny too, especially now that I knew more about her situation. If her parents weren’t on board with the baby, Inny would have turned her back on the idea of asking them for help long ago. No matter how desperate, she’d do this on her own. Even if it killed her.

“I appreciate that,” Dixie Jo said, grief weighing heavily on her face, “but I’m worried either way we’ll be too late.”

*  *  *

After work I found a note under the windshield wiper of Carmina’s truck. It was from Chet, and the news he had to deliver didn’t lighten my mood.

Dusty hadn’t shown up for work today. Chet had been at the ranch until sundown, and hadn’t played the message Dusty’s boss left on his phone until late. Worse, Dusty had raided the emergency stash of money Chet kept in the house. It was gone, all of it. Chet was out looking for him, and would call me at Carmina’s the minute he knew something.

I didn’t want to think bad of Dusty, but I had a hunch he was feeling desperate to get his business with Cooter started—even if it meant cheating his brother. It was hard not to draw a parallel with my mom. Only once, but still once, she stole money from me to fund her habit. The cash was in my wallet before I went to bed. She went partying with Sandy, and in the morning the money was gone. She might have stolen again, had I not learned to hide my money.

*  *  *

I’d fallen asleep with the window open, tempting any trace of a breeze inside my bedroom, and the deep rumble of the Scout pulled me instantly awake. In the dark, I tugged on a pair of shorts and hurried downstairs.

Chet climbed out of the truck, his movements heavy, his shoulders hunched and his eyes dead. He was looking at me, but he didn’t seem to see me. He stood dazed and blinking, almost like he was lost. Right away I knew it was Dusty. Something horrible had happened.

“Chet?” I slipped my feet into Carmina’s garden clogs and jogged down the porch steps. The night air was thick and hot, but the look on Chet’s face chilled me to the core, and I wished I’d brought something to wrap around my shoulders. “It’s Dusty, isn’t it?”

He sank down on the driveway. He leaned his head back against the Scout. His face, which had always appeared strong and certain to me, reflected sheer exhaustion. “He spent it. All of it. His college savings, the money he earned this summer, our emergency fund. Nearly five thousand dollars. Gone.”

“Drugs?” I asked quietly.

He laughed sharply, and the ice in his tone made me shiver again. “I wish he’d blown it on drugs. Drugs he could sell. Drugs would be profitable. He used the money to hire a midwife. His girlfriend was pregnant. I didn’t even know he
had
a girlfriend.”

Now it was my turn to blink. I stared into near space, her name rolling involuntarily off my tongue. “Inny.”

“They’re keeping the baby. Did you hear me? They’re keeping the baby!” he shouted angrily. “Don’t tell me I should be grateful he did the responsible thing. For once, I don’t want him to be responsible. I want him to be selfish. Like I’m being now.”

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“He told me they couldn’t afford the hospital so they hired a midwife. He said they’re keeping the baby, and the minute those words sank in, I started yelling sense at him. I told him he was putting the baby up for adoption or I’d kick him out. He hung up.” Chet’s breath heaved in and out, his eyes dark and blazing. “He doesn’t want to listen, but he knows I’m right. If he keeps the baby, it’s over. He’ll never go to college. He’ll stay here, plastering pools until his back gives out, and then he’ll get a job on the railroad in North Platte. It’s not what my parents wanted.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I’m not cut out for this. I failed. I let everyone down. This is why Dusty wanted to partner with Cooter Saggory—to support his girlfriend and their kid. I never saw it. I was oblivious. And now it’s too late. Everything is falling down around me.”

I didn’t know what to say. I took his face in my hands and tipped his forehead to mine. My hands were steady, but I felt my strength start to crumble. What Chet hadn’t said, but knew as well as I did, was that if Dusty couldn’t support the baby like he thought he could, Chet would step in. He was angry now, and threatening to kick Dusty out, but he wouldn’t. When he calmed, he’d accept that he was Dusty’s guardian, and he’d see this through—at the expense of his own future and dreams.

“Oh, Chet,” I said, feeling my heart break for him.