Devil Moon (6 page)

Melissa chewed a wad of gum, pulling a long string out of her mouth once in a while. Her tattered jeans and old, stained t-shirt made him feel guilty. He'd press Pam to buy the kid some decent clothes.

"I rode my bike." Phil noted the bicycle parked in the grass. "Mom doesn't care where I go after school as long as I'm home by five. It isn't that far over here. Thought I'd check out the team. They really stunk last year. Looks like they still stink."

At that moment they watched the receiver fumble the ball. Phil winced.

"It's early in the season yet," Phil said. "So, how's school going? Do you like your teachers?"

"They're all right." Melissa kept chewing and watching the football practice, never making eye contact with Phil. Her long, stringy brown hair hung on her bony shoulders.

Phil jiggled his feet impatiently. "Do you need any school supplies?"

"Nah."

Jeez, talking to his own kid was like conversing with a brick wall. Maybe he should just get back to practice and let her watch. He felt like an idiot trying to make small talk.

Then she looked him straight in the eye. "Mom says you're a drunk. Are you?"

Oh, Christ, here we go. "You know I go to AA meetings. Yeah, I've been a drunk."

"Mom says you only sober up for visitations, but you drink the rest of the time."

Phil bit back a curse and kept his cool. "I haven't had a drink in three years."

"Mom says you're a loser."

Phil rested his hands on his wide spread knees. "Well, I've had my ups and downs, just like everybody else. I didn't live up to your mother's expectations. But I'm trying to make up for past mistakes. Don't count me out of the game yet."

Melissa stood up. "If you can make this group of hammerheads into a winning team, I guess you wouldn't be such a loser."

She started down the bleacher steps, then stopped and turned around. "Did you know that a cockroach can live six months without its head?"

Phil couldn't suppress a grin. "No, I didn't know that."

"Oh yeah, it's true. I read it on the Internet. See ya." She bounced down to her bicycle.

Phil watched her slim figure mount the bike and push off. The pressure was on. He had to turn these hammerheads into football players.

He had to do it for Melissa.

* * *

While Phil conversed with Melissa, Maddie sat in her office making up a list of all the items necessary to be done before tomorrow night's Moonlight Madness Dance. The decoration committee planned a silver orb in the midst of a twinkling galaxy dangling above the gym floor. Randy and his ever-popular stack of CD's and karaoke machine would provide the music. Randy played a zany DJ to perfection.

She began writing a memo to the chaperones to remind them of their responsibilities. She'd finished the paragraph telling them to be vigilant about stopping overt PDA (public display of affection) when she heard a light tap on her door. The small, heart-shaped face of Reba Finn, a sophomore who lived near Maddie's cabin, peeked through the window. She motioned the girl in.

"Hey, Miz Harris," said the shy backwoods girl in a timid voice.

"Good afternoon, Reba. Miss the bus, did you?"

Reba shifted heavy textbooks. "Yes, ma'am. I had to go around and get the books checked out to me 'cause I weren't here yesterday and then I was too late for the bus."

Reba had come to Maddie's attention the previous year as she drove by the girl walking along the mountain road that led to town. Maddie recognized her as a Beaver Cove High student and pulled over. Reba had missed the bus that stopped along the country road leading to her home. Despite a five-mile walk, the girl was determined to get to school. Maddie gave her a ride that day and several other times during the course of the year. Some mornings Maddie found Reba swinging on her front porch, waiting for the assistant principal to head out the door.

With her quiet manner, big brown eyes and naturally curly auburn hair, Reba possessed an ethereal quality that intrigued Maddie. Reba had revealed bits and pieces of her life as the year had gone by. The oldest of five siblings, her father was a mechanic of sorts, drove a wrecker to pick up stranded motorists, and liked to compete in car rallies. Maddie always avoided those terribly noisy affairs held at county fair grounds. She couldn't imagine why anyone would want to participate in such a thing. Reba didn't say much about her mother except she "tended the youngins."

"Sit down a minute, sweetheart, while I finish this memo. Then we can be on our way." Maddie returned to her keyboard as Reba slid into a chair.

"Did you have a good summer?" Maddie asked.

"It was fine, I guess. We had a mess of blackberries to put up and the corn was good. My brother, George, got hisself bit by a snake and we thought he might die, but he din't."

Reba placed her burden of books down in the other chair and sat very still in the one she occupied, as if afraid she might damage it. Maddie glanced at the girl in the tattered clothes and recognized the potential. Reba could go either way; her life teetered on the cusp. She might continue in school and break the mold of her background. Or she might drop out of school, become pregnant and only possibly married. Maddie imagined two possible future Rebas: one smiling, educated and confident; the other careworn and tired holding a baby in her arms, and a small child by the hand.

Maddie didn't want this girl to fall by the wayside. Perhaps, with a little more personal attention, she could point Reba toward a brighter future. Getting her out of her shell might be a good start. "Are you coming to the dance tomorrow night?"

Reba hung her head. "Ah, I cain't do that."

"Why, because you don't have anything to wear?"

Reba nodded her head.

"It's a fifties theme. I'm sure we can find an extra poodle skirt and matching sweater you can wear. You can stay after school and I'll give you a lift home when the dance is over. What do you say?"

Reba's eyes lit up and her little bow mouth widened into a real smile. "I'd really like that."

"Excellent." Maddie hit the print button on her computer. "Gather up your things, I'm ready to go."

The two headed down the hall to the teacher's lounge. Maddie's clicking heels tattooed a steady beat while Reba's holey tennis shoes squished along side. Maddie stopped at the teacher mailboxes intending to slip her memos in the chaperones' slots. When she got to the box marked
Wilcox
, crammed with messages she assumed that the Coach was ignoring or didn't know about his mailbox.

She tapped the memo against her pursed lips. "Hmmm. I think we need to make a detour to the football field. It seems the coach needs a personal delivery."

* * *

Phil stood on the sidelines watching his guys make their thirtieth try at the sling shot play. It might be his imagination, but he thought they were improving. Stu drew diagrams on a piece of paper, excitedly sketching out his ideas. Ray Martinez, their quarterback, had made the last five passes to his receiver right on the money.

A flash of yellow caught the corner of Phil's eye and he turned to see the assistant principal making her way through the gate along the sidelines. A girl accompanying her took a seat on the bleachers as she continued her path toward him. He really got a kick out of this chick. Her high heels sank into the soft turf with every step. Her chic little canary colored suit with the matching scarf around her neck looked completely out of place on a football field, but she walked with resolve. He enjoyed the sexy hip action despite the prissy purse to her lips. She appeared a woman with a mission and no amount of mud or wind hindered her way.

Just as she reached him, her heel tripped in a hole and he caught her by the arms as she pitched forward. "Steady, sister. Why women wear those idiotic shoes, I'll never know."

Phil righted Maddie and she quickly regained her composure. She tugged her jacket into place. "Coach Wilcox, I came to remind you that you're a chaperone for the school dance tomorrow night. I've brought you a list of all the duties outlined for the function. Are you aware that your mailbox is full of messages?"

Phil accepted the memo Maddie shoved in his hands, took a glance at it, crumpled the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. "Yeah, I need to check it out one of these days. So what time does the shindig start?"

"If you'll examine the list currently compressed in your clothing, you'll see you need to be there at 6:30. It's a 50's theme dance. Dress accordingly."

"I'll get out my James Dean costume. You can wear your
Good Morning, Miss Dove
getup." His glance raked over her body. "Or are you wearing it now?"

"What?" Maddie knew she'd just been insulted. Jennifer Jones in
Good Morning, Miss Dove
, was a prim schoolteacher spinster.

"Coach Wilcox, are you
trying
to antagonize me or does it just come naturally to you?"

"I guess you could say it's part of my personal charm. Like being uptight and snobby is part of yours," he said with teasing eyes.

She pushed the dark-rimmed glasses up her nose. "My first impression of you was that you were an insufferable lout and it hasn't changed one bit."

Phil broke out with laughter. "Ah, lighten up, sweetheart. I'll be at your dance. I'll..." he pulled the paper out of his pocket and started to read from her list, "'guard against PDA, ascertain the presence of alcohol or drugs and diffuse the onset of violent confrontation.' Sounds like a blast all right. Save a dance for me." He lowered his voice. "You do dance, don't you, cupcake?"

She hated the way he made her feel like a stodgy wallflower. "Of course I dance. I've taken ballroom, swing, polka, even cha-cha and tango lessons."

"Great, we'll show these kids how it's done." He leaned into her conspiratorially. "Listen, I'd love to stand here all afternoon talking to you, but I've got a football team to coach. These guys already probably think you're out here hitting on me, so you'd better go now. I'll see you around." He gave her a wink, turned and sauntered back to his assistant.

Maddie's mouth dropped open in amazement. The unmitigated gall! The colossal ego. The dumb jock, the jar headed ignoramus...She marched back and picked Reba up with a litany of insults running through her mind.

Phil watched her figure retreating off the field. She had a wiggle to her walk that he had to admire. Yeah, he had to admit it. Nice ass.

* * *

Maddie insisted on driving Reba all the way home, something she'd never done before. The girl had always been happy to exit the car at the junction to the main road. But seeing her today with a load of books, Maddie made the turn up the gravel road.

The ride extended much farther than Maddie anticipated, about two miles. It seemed longer because she had to take it slowly, avoiding potholes and washouts. The county obviously didn't consider Finn Lane worthy of any expense for maintenance. Oak trees, sumac, and poison ivy grew thickly along the sides. Maddie sensed a departure from the civilized world. When she rounded a bend and finally glimpsed the Finn residence, she knew she had reached an isolated kingdom.

Mr. Finn and his clan had carved a ramshackle domain in the heart of the woods. The house resembled a modern-day Noah's ark. The original structure had been a long rectangular trailer home sitting on blocks to level it on the hilly terrain. From there, rooms and stories had been added as needed, constructed from whatever materials had been available at the time. Plywood and corrugated metal had come in handy for walls, along with the natural logs from the surrounding hills. Uneven stairs led up to three separate entrances, none of which appeared to be a proper "front door."

Surrounding the building were assorted vehicles that appeared to be missing many vital parts. To the left were two carports shielding sparkling custom-made cars, one painted turquoise blue, the other a gleaming burgundy featuring fancy flame decorations. These were obviously Mr. Finn's competition vehicles. Maddie shook her head at the priorities of people. His daughter wore thrift store cast-offs while his cars looked like a million bucks. Finn's wrecker and a pickup truck sat parked next to a doghouse bearing the sign
Hell Hounds
.

Several assorted dogs started barking up a storm, disturbing the three black cats that sprawled on a stairway. A tremor of terror quivered in Maddie's stomach as the dogs approached her car. Big, black dogs always brought forth a frightened response since she'd been attacked by a neighbor's Labrador when she was five years old. When two large paws and a monstrous head appeared at her window, she had to fight the urge to throw the car into reverse and make a mad dash for paved roads. Her heart thumped a fearful rhythm in her chest.

A door banged opened at the house and a thin, sandy-haired man in need of a haircut came out looking suspicious and hostile.

Reba quickly opened the door and yelled, "It's me, Pa! Miss Harris brung me home."

His whole demeanor changed as he watched Reba getting out of the car. Finn smiled, shoved his hand through his hair and started down the stairs, yelling at the curs to shut up.

"It's about time you got home. I was 'bout to send the dogs out for you."