Disturbing the Dead (16 page)

Chapter Twenty

Holly poked her head out of the store’s dressing room. “You ready?”

“Come on,” Rachel said, laughing. “Let me see.”

Holly crept out. She straightened the hem of the pale blue sweater and picked a stray thread from the black slacks, then stood with her arms stiff at her sides and her face screwed up as if she expected the worst. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely beautiful.”

The compliment made Holly blush but didn’t erase her doubtful expression. She seemed to have no idea how pretty she was.

“I’ll pay you back every penny,” she said for at least the tenth time. “I promise.”

“I know that. You don’t have to keep telling me.”

Holly wasn’t easy to do a favor for, and she wouldn’t accept gifts. Rachel had spent the better part of an hour persuading her to come into Mountainview and pick out some new clothes at All Dressed Up. Once there, they’d wrangled over how much Holly needed. They would leave with more than Holly thought was necessary and a lot less than Rachel wanted to buy. But the shopping expedition was a great success. Holly already looked more like a modern young woman and less like a waif from a hollow.

“Let’s have lunch at the Mountaineer and celebrate,” Rachel said. “Wear what you have on. The clerk can take the tags off at the desk.”

“What are we celebratin’?”

“Your new job, of course.” Even as Rachel spoke, worry nagged at her. Tom had called last night and repeated a story about Rudy O’Dell spying on Holly with binoculars. Tom hadn’t sounded convinced that the story was true, since it came from Jack Watford, but he’d asked Rachel to keep an eye on Holly until the police caught O’Dell. Maybe they shouldn’t have come to town today. But surely they were safe in a moving vehicle and here on Main Street. Besides, O’Dell had more important things than Holly to think about—such as evading capture. She dismissed the thought of the fugitive. She and Holly were both going to enjoy this day.

Holly retrieved her old shirt and jeans from the dressing room and pulled on her coat. The ratty brown garment looked about twenty years old, but after Holly had seen the prices of new coats, she’d refused to let Rachel buy one for her. Next time, Rachel hoped.

The clerk snipped the tags off Holly’s sweater and slacks and handed her a big white bag filled with her other purchases. When Rachel finished the credit card transaction and turned to go, Holly was nowhere in sight.

Rachel looked around. “Holly? Where are you?”

Don’t let her wander off anywhere by herself.
Tom’s warning echoed in Rachel’s head.

“She stepped outside, hon,” the sixtyish clerk said.

Rachel shoved the door open and felt a momentary relief when she spotted Holly in front of the hardware store next door. Then she registered the full scene. Holly was backed up against the store’s display window and two tall men loomed over her. One was her creepy drug-dealing cousin, Buddy.

Rachel’s mouth went dry. She strode quickly toward them, braced for another skirmish with Buddy and determined to win this one.

With the white shopping bag clutched to her chest like a shield, her head bowed and shoulders hunched, Holly seemed to be expecting a blow. Rachel came up beside her and threw the men a challenging look. “What’s going on here?”

The two men were a lot alike—tall, handsome, dark-haired. The second, though, was middle-aged.

“Well, hey there, Mary Mary,” Buddy drawled. His taunting grin and cold eyes told her he hadn’t forgotten a thing about their first encounter. “Didn’t I say I’d be seein’ you again real soon? I bet you—”

The older man silenced him with a touch on the shoulder. Buddy’s grin collapsed like a popped balloon.

“You must be Dr. Goddard,” the man drawled.

His lips formed a slow smile that was enough like Buddy’s smirk to send a spasm of revulsion through Rachel. Father and son? Or uncle and nephew? Could this be—?

“This is my daddy,” Holly mumbled.

“Mr. Shackleford,” Rachel said, struggling to keep her voice even. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Amusement crinkled his hooded dark eyes. “Call me Troy.” He leaned toward Rachel and she willed herself not to recoil, but she broke out in a sweat and she knew he could see it. In a confidential tone, Shackleford added, “Don’t believe everything folks tell you. I doubt I could live up to it all.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.”
Watch it, watch it.
Troy Shackleford was too dangerous to mess around with. She had to think about Holly now, not just herself.

Shackleford stroked his chin and gazed down at Rachel through half-closed eyes. His large, strong hands bore scars across the knuckles that made her imagine barroom brawls and fights in parking lots. “How’s my little girl doin’ on the job?”

“Great. I’m lucky to have her.” A gust of wind chilled Rachel’s face and neck and made her shiver.

Shackleford reached out, caught the collar of her coat and tugged it up around her throat. She flinched, and Buddy laughed, a low, derisive snicker.

“You’re cold,” Shackleford said. “You ought to get indoors.”

“Let’s go,” Rachel said to Holly. If the girl bit down any harder on her lower lip she would draw blood.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Holly edged away from her father and cousin and struck off down the sidewalk at a near-run.

Rachel hurried after her. She prayed the two men would give up and go away, but she didn’t believe for a second they would.

“Hey, hold on, Sugar,” Troy Shackleford called after Holly. With long strides he caught up to her. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to a stop. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Despite the cold air, sweat beaded on Holly’s upper lip. “I’m busy,” she squeaked.

Stay calm,
Rachel told herself, trying to make her racing heart slow down. Across the street several men and women had stopped to watch them. Shackleford couldn’t get away with anything out here in plain view. Could he?

“You got time to eat, don’t you, baby?” Shackleford smiled at Holly, but it was a coldly calculated expression with no affection in it. “Let’s drive on out to Rose’s place for a bite. She’s been missin’ you.”

His grip on Holly’s arm tightened, and when the girl whimpered in pain Rachel couldn’t hold herself back anymore. “Let go of her,” she told Shackleford. “Right now.”

Shackleford regarded Rachel with mock reproach. “Are you tryin’ to keep me away from my daughter? That’s not nice, Dr. Goddard.”

All right, you son of a bitch, enough of this.
She pawed through her shoulderbag and dredged out her cell phone. “Let go of Holly or I’ll call the police.”

Shackleford laughed. “What are you gonna tell ’em I’m doin’? I’m invitin’ my daughter to have lunch with me, and you’re interferin’. You’re the one in the wrong.”

“She doesn’t want to go anywhere with you.”

Holly squirmed and tried to free her arm, but Shackleford held on. “I need to talk to you.” His voice lost its oily smoothness. “Now stop bein’ contrary and come on with me. We got things to straighten out.”

He twisted Holly’s arm. The bag slid from her grasp and plopped onto the sidewalk. “No!” Holly cried. “I don’t want to!”

“I’ll call the Sheriff’s Department,” Rachel said. “They’re right around the corner.” Thank God for speed dial. Even 911 might be more than her trembling fingers could manage.

Buddy stepped forward and leaned his face into hers. “Stay out of this, bitch.”

With an effort of will Rachel stood her ground and ignored Buddy. She said to Shackleford, “You’re trying to kidnap Holly off a public street in front of witnesses. Do you think the cops will be on your side?”

He barked a laugh. “Girl, you’ve got a bad habit of stickin’ your pretty little nose where it don’t belong.”

But he released Holly, and she backed away from him.

“We’re leaving,” Rachel said. She bent to retrieve the shopping bag, but Buddy scooped it up and, grinning, held it beyond her grasp. An explosion of fury shook her and she needed every ounce of self-control to keep her voice down to a growl. “Give me the goddamned bag and get out of our way.”

To her amazement, Shackleford said, “Let her have it, Bud.”

“Aw, shit, Troy,” Buddy whined. When his uncle threw him a pointed look, he shoved the bag at Rachel. A sullen little boy, reprimanded and not liking it a bit.

“Come on,” Rachel told Holly, “let’s go.”

They’d walked twenty feet when Shackleford called out, “Hey, Rachel.”

She froze for a second. Then she slowly looked back at him.

He was grinning. “You be real careful now, you hear? You never know what might happen.”

***

Inside the Mountaineer, Rachel chose a booth in a rear corner, away from the hubbub of customers coming and going. She tossed her coat into the booth and slid in after it, then sat for a moment breathing deeply and trying to calm down. She had to get some answers from Holly before she talked to Tom again, and although she felt guilty for taking advantage of the girl’s emotional turmoil, she knew this was a perfect time to pry.

Holly sat opposite Rachel with her arms wrapped around her waist, her gaze vacant and her thoughts obviously still on the street with her father and cousin.

“This is a nice place, isn’t it?” Rachel said.

Holly gazed around as if seeing the restaurant for the first time since they’d entered. Rachel hoped she was comparing it to Rose’s diner. Bright and clean, The Mountaineer had green vinyl booths, pine tables, framed nature photos on the walls and two wagon wheels suspended from the ceiling as lighting fixtures.

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked.

Holly regarded her with bleak eyes. “Now he’s gonna hurt you because of me.”

“He can’t do anything to me,” Rachel said with a confidence she didn’t feel.

“You don’t know what he’s like. He’ll find a way.”

“He’s not going to hurt either of us. I won’t let him. The police won’t let him. You have a lot of people on your side, Holly.”

“Then he’ll take it out on my grandma. Maybe I oughta go back home.”

“No, you can’t let him—”

The waitress’ arrival cut Rachel off. After the young woman took their order and left, Holly leaned over the table and burst out in a fierce whisper, “I
hate
him! I’d have growed up with a mother if it wasn’t for him.”

Rachel laid a hand on Holly’s. She was aware of other customers looking their way.
To hell with them.

“How is he responsible for your mother being gone?” Rachel felt as if she were coaxing answers from a child, not an eighteen-year-old.

“He— He—” Holly gulped. “I’m afraid to tell you.”

Rachel wanted to scream in frustration. What would it take to free Holly from her family’s grip? To drag her demons out into the open? “Please let me help you.”

“You have already,” Holly said. “You gave me a job, you let me move into your house. You went and got me, and you didn’t let Grandma stop you from takin’ me.”

“Why won’t they let you go? Do you know something they don’t want you to tell anybody?”

“I can’t—” Holly shook her head.

“Why are you afraid of your father? Has he ever hit you or—or anything else?”

Holly bit her lip and didn’t speak.

The son of a bitch.
“Please tell me what he did. I’m your friend, I want to understand.”

Holly stared into space for a long moment before answering. “The last night I ever saw Mama, they were yellin’ at each other. I was so scared, I got under my bed. I covered up my ears, but I could hear them yellin’.”

“What were they fighting about?”

“I don’t know. She said she wasn’t gonna help him, she wasn’t gonna let him get away with something, I don’t know what. He called her awful names. And he said—” Holly fought back a sob. “He said he’d kill her if she went against him.”

Rachel’s chest felt so tight that she had to force each breath in and out. “What happened then, Holly?”

“He beat her up. He beat her so bad—” Holly squeezed her eyes shut. “Her face was all bloody, her nose and mouth. Her arm was hurt because he shoved her and she fell down and hit a table. He said he’d kill her if she called the law on him. Then he walked out and left her like that.”

“Did he come back later?”

Holly shook her head. “She put me to bed and pulled up the covers and—” Her hand rose to stroke her hair. “She touched me like that. She called me her darlin’ little girl and told me not to worry. And I went to sleep. I thought it was gonna be all right. But when I woke up, Mama was gone. I never saw her again. She didn’t even say goodbye.”

“Were her clothes gone?”

“Yeah. But she left me behind.”

Rachel squeezed Holly’s hands. “What did your grandmother say about your mother leaving?”

“She said Mama needed to go somewhere and find a job, and she’d come back for me. But she never did. She left because she was scared of him, and she was scared to come back.” Holly sniffled, yanked a tissue from her coat pocket and dabbed her runny nose. “But don’t you think she could’ve took me with her? If she really loved me.”